Sales Ch. 02

byattero©

Wednesday hadn't just been a good day; it had been a great day. Conquering Natalie filled me with a sense of confidence and strength that lasted for the rest of the day. My customers responded well to it; I was closing deals left and right. I felt like I was on top of the world.

Natalie didn't fare quite as well, of course. The semen on her face was barely noticeable and no one could see "LIAM'S WHORE" written on her chest through her shirt, but I'm sure she was painfully aware of their presence. She managed to close a handful of deals, but knowing that she had been defeated was clearly gnawing away at her.

At the end of the day I scanned our respective numbers. Frustratingly she was still ahead of me, though I had gone a way towards closing the gap. If Thursday went the same way I'd surely overtake her. Clocking out, I went home to get some sleep -- I would need to be rested to be at my best.

Sleep didn't come easily, though. I tossed and turned for hours while playing out the day's events in my head. I couldn't believe that I had done the things that I had done, and I couldn't believe that I had gotten away with them. I regretted nothing, but it was difficult to realize how much things had changed.

It was tremendously screwed up, but a large part of my reality had been an understanding that Natalie was my hated enemy. So much of what I did at work was driven by the desire to finally defeat her and prove that she wasn't better than me. After Wednesday, that reality just didn't make sense -- she was no longer my rival, she was my bitch. It was an awesome change, but I was struggling to wrap my brain around it.

The most confusing part was how I felt about Natalie. Previous to Wednesday it was easy to hate her -- she was always above me, always rubbing it in my face. That dynamic made no sense anymore, and I found it increasingly difficult to hate her. Without the desire to finally overcome her, I was beginning to realize that I actually kind of liked her.

Sure, she had spent the last couple of years going out of her way to fuck with me, but I had done the same to her. In a way, I almost respected her for her constant tormenting of me -- if I were honest, I'd probably have done the same if I was in her position. Still, adjusting to the idea that I liked my former arch-enemy was a bit difficult.

I awoke Thursday morning feeling exhausted. Glancing at my alarm clock I saw it was already 9:00 -- apparently I wasn't just too distracted to sleep, I was too distracted to remember to set my alarm. Hopping out of bed I took a quick shower and began the drive to work.

I arrived around 10:00, two full hours late. Fortunately, it didn't seem that I had missed anything -- aside from Natalie's and Dave's cars, the parking lot was empty. Management might not be happy when they went over the time cards, but after my sales performance the previous day I wasn't too worried. I briefly checked my appearance in my rear view mirror before heading in to work. Entering through the front door I found Dave and Natalie relaxing by the front counter.

I never cared for Dave. We got along fine professionally, but there was something about his personality that had always made me want to avoid him. Dave was the kind of guy who followed every single rule and habitually looked down on those who didn't, a perpetual gossip, and a bit of a sycophant -- none of which exactly meshed well with my personality. We weren't enemies, but we were hardly friends.

Seeing Dave standing there on that Thursday morning irritated me even more than normal. I desperately wanted to torment Natalie and reinforce our new power dynamic, but I wasn't crazy about making our relationship public knowledge. If Dave suspected anything was up I could be certain that the rest of the store would soon know as well, and I had no desire for that to happen. Even if I managed to avoid getting into any trouble for what I had done, which was extremely unlikely, I liked the idea of keeping things secret. There was a lot going on in my head, and I didn't need the added variables that public knowledge would bring. Clocking in, I racked my brain for ways that I could remove him from the equation.

The sad fact was that there really wasn't anything that I could do to get some alone time with Natalie without raising his suspicion. Like the rest of the store, Dave knew that we hated each other. Even standing close to her would seem abnormal. Accepting that I would just have to be patient I took my place at the counter, hoping for customers to distract myself with.

Being patient was difficult. I found myself wondering obsessively if the phrase "LIAM'S WHORE" still appeared on Natalie's chest. I wasn't even sure if I wanted it to still be there or not. The idea of her degrading herself by tracing such a dehumanizing thing on her own chest was extremely appealing, but so was the idea of punishing her for disobedience. Doing my best to hide my frustration, I leaned back against the counter and began tapping my foot on the tile floor, impatiently waiting for a customer.

An hour had passed before an elderly customer walked into the store. I reacted slowly, having been lost in my own mind at the time, and Dave managed to greet him before I got a chance to. Initially irritated, I quickly realized that this wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Dave would be paying attention to the customer, not to Natalie and myself. He'd still be able to see us, of course, so it wasn't like I'd be able to bend her over the counter and fuck her brains out; but I'd be able to at least talk to her without him noticing.

Dave greeted the customer and launched immediately into his sales process. The process was designed to look completely casual, but was actually a carefully designed routine meant to build rapport with the customer and determine what exactly he was looking for. It was painfully dull to watch, and my burning desire to get alone with Natalie was doing nothing to help my patience. Tapping my foot, I waited impetuously for him to reach the point where he'd move away from the counter to show the customer some products.

Eventually, Dave finally felt he had a solid enough understanding of what the customer was looking for and led him away from the counter. The store's layout was open, so I'd still have to act carefully -- Dave would be able to see me at any time, though I could count on his focus being elsewhere. It wasn't exactly what I wanted, but it would have to do.

Keeping my motions calm and fluid I took a few steps towards Natalie, stopping several feet away from her so as not to appear too suspicious. I figured that from that distance she'd be able to hear me even if I kept my voice low, and if Dave happened to glance over we'd still be far enough that he wouldn't suspect anything. Leaning back against the counter I kept my eyes on Dave, waiting for him to appear sufficiently distracted.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to grow the balls you need to approach," Natalie stated, keeping her voice low and her eyes straight ahead.

Her comment irritated me, but I kept my cool. She wasn't an idiot; she must have known why I didn't approach her with Dave present. Furthermore, she probably wanted to keep what had happened the day before secret just as badly as I did, even if it was for different reasons. She was most likely just looking for a way to insult me and regain some face after how I had humiliated her on Wednesday.

"So, you've spent the entire morning thinking about my balls?" I retorted. "You worry too much, bitch. My balls are just fine, and I'll happily demonstrate that fact to you later today."

"The funny thing to me is that you probably believe that," she replied. "Yesterday was a one-time thing, and it will never, never happen again. Hope you enjoyed it; there will be no encore performance."

"You sound rather confident," I admitted. "I think I like that, actually -- it's almost becoming. Of course, you'd have to be a moron to actually believe the things you're saying, so you lose points there. Pretty much a wash, when all is said and done."

"Oh, come the fuck on," she chuckled. "You really think I believe for one second that you're going to rape me again with Dave here? Yeah, I am confident, and I'd say I have every reason to be. Face it, Liam, you haven't won and you're not going to."

"I disagree," I argued. "Actually, I think the fact that you feel compelled to hide behind a brown-nosing douchebag like Dave says that I've already won. Unfortunately, once again you're showing more confidence than intelligence, bitch -- do you think I'm the slightest bit intimidated by a weasel like him? Please, I could probably take him down with even less effort than I'd need to take you down."

"Interesting solution," she sighed. "You'll just beat him into submission and then have your way with me like the caveman your intellect suggests you to be. You may be physically capable of pulling that off, Liam, but I'd remind you that we live in a society of law. Even you aren't stupid enough to not realize the consequences of doing shit like that."

"Probably true," I ceded, "but it's hardly relevant. You're only safe when there are witnesses present -- all I have to do is get you alone. Speaking of which, you'll be taking your lunch break at 1:00 today. You'll go to the shopping center down the street, and you'll wait in your car."

"Will I, now?" she laughed. "I'm curious, Liam -- what happens when I absolutely don't do anything remotely like that? Are you going to stomp your feet and throw a little temper tantrum because you didn't get your way? If you do, please let me know ahead of time. I'd love to see that; I'm sure it will be adorable."

"You know, I could answer that," I replied. "I could make up some elaborate and specific punishment to ensure that you truly understand how important it is that you obey my commands like a good little bitch. I could actually truly drive home the point that if you rebel against me here, you'll regret it -- but I won't."

"Why not, pussy?" she sneered. "Can't come up with anything, or just too afraid?"

"Too apathetic, really," I shrugged. "There's no need to make up a punishment, because there's no chance that you will disobey. You can tell yourself that it's because you're just curious, or because you know I'd punish you in some horrific and terrible manner, or even because you think you might be able to turn the tables on me and get some revenge -- I don't really care. I may not know how you'll justify it to yourself but in the end, I know you'll be there like a good little bitch. I need not waste my breath making silly little threats over things that won't happen."

Glancing over at Natalie I saw that my response had had the desired effect. Though she tried to hide it, she was clearly flustered. It looked as though she were searching for something to say back to me, but couldn't think of anything that would work. I had her exactly where I liked her.

"Anyway, you've got a few hours before 1:00. You can spend them pretending that you're struggling over whether or not to go, or imagining the horrible things that I'll be doing to you when you do. If you'd prefer, you can even convince yourself that you're really not going; only to break down at the last moment and obey me. I really don't care one way or the other, but I still need to check last month's tickets -- you never know when some scumbag is going to try to steal a sale, you know? If anyone needs me I'll be in the back."

Having said my piece I headed for the back room, struggling not to look back to see her reaction. The line about checking my receipts was bullshit -- it was something that I probably should do at some point, but it was hardly the reason for my exit. I wanted desperately to tear Natalie's clothes off and bend her over the counter, and while I knew I had the self-control to restrain myself from such behavior I didn't want to risk tipping her off to how much I wanted her with my body language.

Logging into the computer I went through the motions of checking receipts. I tried to tune out everything and just focus on the green letters and numbers on the screen, but it was futile. I spent minutes on each receipt instead of seconds, and if there was anything to miss then I'm sure I missed it. After wasting half an hour, I pocketed a permanent marker that was lying on the desk and went back out to the front.

Both Natalie and Dave were with customers. This was probably a good thing -- I had no desire to speak with Dave, and I didn't trust myself to keep cool around Natalie. Tapping my foot, I waited impatiently until a customer came in.

I spoke with two customers that morning and failed miserably both times. I still had my confidence from the day before, but my focus was shit. As much as I tried to focus on their needs, I just couldn't take my mind off of Natalie. I obsessed over what I was going to do to her -- both that day and in a more long term sense. I frequently glanced at the clock on the wall, wanting it to be 1:00 already. In general, I left the customers thinking that I really didn't give a flying fuck about them, which was probably accurate.

More coworkers arrived around noon, though I barely noticed. My thoughts were exclusively on her; everything else was irrelevant information that could only irritate me. Repeatedly glancing at the clock, I made it until 12:50 before I could stand waiting no longer. Clocking out for lunch I jumped in my car and drove to the parking lot down the street; eager to get away before anyone noticed how strangely I was behaving.

Pulling into the parking lot, I parked on the outside edge so that I'd be able to see the cars as they entered. After applying the parking brake and removing my keys from the ignition I took a deep breath and tried to focus. I wanted to be calm and composed when she arrived, but that clearly wasn't going to happen. I had far too much energy to contain; I'd simply have to settle for being calmer than she was. That didn't seem too difficult -- I was certain that she was far more off-balance than I was.

Waiting for her to arrive I found myself regretting the fact that I had left early. I had justified it by telling myself that it was necessary to take off before I got tied up with a customer, but the truth was that I was just impatient. In hindsight it was foolish -- my leaving earlier wasn't going to get her there any quicker.

As the minutes passed, I found myself growing concerned. When we were in the store I honestly believed that she'd show up without threats, suspecting that she had too much pride to back down and hide from me. Sitting in my car I was beginning to fear that I had been overly confident. Frustrated at myself for not having made sure that she would show up, I impatiently scanned the parking lot with my eyes.

I considered driving back to the store. I could make up some bullshit excuse about having left something in the back room, and I don't think anyone would notice. While I was there I could see if Natalie was still there as well. I was just about to put the key back in the ignition when I saw her car pull into the lot.

Natalie spotted my car and drove over, parking right next to me. I was mildly impressed -- it was nice to see such boldness. Relieved that she had obeyed my instructions I steadied myself emotionally and got out of the car, doing my best to project the image of confidence. Natalie got out of her car as well, looking more nervous than I'm sure she would have liked to be.

"You look relieved," she commented. "You didn't think I wouldn't show up, did you? I hope that you weren't sitting in your car this entire time, nervously worrying about where I was -- I'd feel bad about doing that to you."

"Keep dreaming," I spat, trying to regain my balance. "I knew you'd show up. You're my bitch, after all, and while you may desperately need some training I would certainly hope that even you would know better than to refuse a direct order."

"About that, Liam," she sneered. "I didn't come here to give you another opportunity to embarrass yourself sexually; I came here to clear up some misconceptions that I think you have about what happened yesterday. First and foremost, I need you to understand that I am your coworker, not your bitch. You don't own me, control me, or have even the slightest power over me. If anything, my superior performance puts me in charge, here -- though I promise, I'll be gentle so as not to hurt your delicate little feelings. You need to stop looking at me as your rival and start seeing me as your mentor -- if you play your cards right, I just might take you under my wing."

"I'm glad you cleared that up," I laughed sarcastically. "I was apparently very confused; though I'm not sure it's my fault. Seeing you on your hands and knees licking my shoes yesterday may have led me to believe that our relationship was very different from what you're currently suggesting. Literally bending you over a desk and fucking your brains out may have reinforced that misconception as well. You have to admit your reactions didn't really make sense unless we accept that you are, in fact, my bitch."

"I was tired," she tried to explain. "You caught me off-guard, and it will never happen again. I'd apologize for the misunderstanding, but I think if anything you ought to be thanking me. You've probably never had a woman of my caliber, and you probably never will again. You're welcome, by the way."

"I'd love to believe you," I claimed, "but the thing is I just can't. It's nothing personal, but you are in sales, you know? Not exactly the most trustworthy of careers, and all. I think you're full of shit, and all of this bullshit confidence is nothing more than a pathetic act."

"You can think whatever you like," she shrugged, "but that doesn't change anything. I'm not your bitch, Liam. Keep pushing me, though, and you might just become mine."

"I'm pretty sure that I can prove that you are, actually," I argued. "I'm actually quite positive that if you remove your shirt, we'll see written evidence that proves my claims."

I was bluffing, of course. I had no idea if my territorial marking still existed on her chest or not, but I was interested in seeing her reaction. Her body language told me that I was probably right -- she looked flustered and at a loss for words, implying that she had most likely traced it back on just as I had told her.

"It's just too bad you'll never get that shirt off," she retorted. "I'll let you pretend that your words are still there, though -- it seems like it's very important to you, and I think it would be cruel to destroy your childlike hope."

I assumed that her courage came from the fact that we were in broad daylight and she didn't think I'd try anything there. Looking around, though, I was feeling pretty confident with our location. Other cars were parked in the lot, but no one was close, and no one was watching.

"I'm not really the pretending type," I reminded her. "Get in my car, bitch. I think we need to make sure that you did your homework."

"Liam," she laughed, "have you been smoking crack? I mean, your optimism is certainly adorable but you don't actually think that I'm going to obey you, do you?"

"Look around, Natalie," I suggested. "The nearest car is at least 100 feet away and its owner is mostly in one of those stores. No one's looking in our direction, and even if they were they'd be too far away to see anything. We may technically be in public, but you're hardly safe."

"I'll scream," she warned, sounding increasingly nervous.

"Maybe you will," I shrugged. "It'd be rather pathetic, but it's not like you were all too rich in dignity in the first place. I'm pretty sure I can get my hand over your mouth long before anyone hears you, though. Now, you have a choice little girl -- you can get in my car voluntarily like a good bitch or I can force you. I'm okay with either way, but if you disobey me you will be punished."

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