Always Quiet 01

After the interruption due to the pandemic life was returning to pre epidemic normalcy. Masks were no longer worn by most people, sporting event and concert attendances were at capacity and the majority of companies had returned to in office workers. At least the employees of Riven Banking Co. were now all back at their desks after an almost two year remote operating mode and generating the myriad financial transactions each day that helped oil the wheels of industry.

The city in which the bank was headquartered is unimportant. Just another of the world's metropolises. So, too, is the building in which the bank leased its space; just another soaring tower of tens of floors with thousands of drones in a metal and glass hive. We are only interested in the story of two of the bank's employees, a Vice President named Carl Hayes and a clerk named Eve Trayson.

Carl had started with Riven just out of college and now, after more than twenty years he had risen to be a Vice President in charge of a unit comprised of 30 or so workers. Like most hierarchies his unit consisted of a few direct reports, their team leaders and the teams themselves. Carl had little to do with the worker bees and most of his time was taken up with meetings. Meetings with his direct reports, meetings with the senior executives he reported to, occasional meetings with clients and the rare Board Meeting from time to time.

Now well into his 40's Carl lived alone in a loft in a former mill building, took trips to go fishing several times a year and had recently acquired a new (to him) sports car that he had yearned for since he was a teen. Carl had never married, though he had had two relationships that each had lasted more than 5 years. While it is unlikely that anyone would describe him as a ladies man he was able to find a woman to spend time with whenever he felt the need.

Eve was younger, just in her 30's. She lived at home with her parents, though they regularly encouraged her to move out on her own. She rarely dated and her life revolved around her job. As a clerk on one of the teams in Carl's group her daily assignments consisted of creating and executing transfers of sums of money for the Bank's clients. Her cube was more or less tucked in a corner of the floor, coincidentally just past the door to Carl's office.

People rarely took note of Eve and if they did it was to comment on her overall drabness. She had mousey brown hair and stood slumped or stoop shouldered. The colors of her clothing tended to beiges and browns which added to her drabness. Eve spoke quietly, when she spoke at all and interacted with her coworkers minimally. She had been at Riven for 4 years and received passing reviews each year that entitled her to an average raise in pay but not much else.

It's likely that until the fateful day, Carl may not have even known Eve's name. It's doubtful he had ever spoken more than a few words to her, perhaps a 'hello' or 'good night' in the elevator. Based on the women that Carl favored to spend his time with it's very likely that Eve did not even register on his radar.

Over time Carl had begun to identify a desire in himself that took time to define. At first it was just an awareness that something was lacking in his life. In time he came to understand that there was a missing piece in his relationships. As yet he could not put his finger on what was missing but his most recent relationships had been shorter than those in the past. He rejected each woman because of some undefined deficiency.

On a grey Friday morning before a holiday long weekend that seemed a perfect fit to Eve's blandness she arrived at work, early as usual, sat at her desk and fired up her computer. In the bluish glow of the two screens on her desk she began the login process that afforded her access to the systems necessary to perform her duties, just as she had for oh so many days before.

Throughout the morning and afternoon she created and executed the movements of large sums of money as requested by clients, no different than she had done for years. She stopped only briefly to eat her lunch in the break room, sitting alone eating soup she brought from home. At the end of the day, well after most of the others in the department had left, she closed out her last transaction, logged out and shut down her computer to head home. Her weekend plans centered on reading books and watching TV.

On Tuesday after the holiday Carl breezed into the office, as usual after everyone else had arrived. There was an undercurrent of something different he could feel but not name as he strode to his office. Barely had he taken off his jacket than Janet and Bob were in his office. Janet was wringing her hands and Bob was hemming and hawing trying to speak.

"Well, what's going on?" Carl asked.

"Mind if I shut the door?" Bob said in response as he performed the action without waiting for a reply.

Carl sat behind his desk. "Uh oh, I don't like the look of this. What is it?"

"Well, uh, the thing is, uh, um...." Bob stammered.

"Out with it," Carl demanded, "What's going on?"

Janet took a step forward. "We've got a significant problem. A transaction got balled up on Friday and the client is going to be pretty steamed when they find out," she explained.

"Who's the client?"

"Brookhouse."

"Crap" Carl spat. Brookhouse was one to the Bank's largest clients. "What happened?"

Bob jumped in. "The transaction was reversed. Instead of sending the money to Brookhouse we took the money from Brookhouse."

"How much?"

Janet provided the multi million dollar amount.

"This'll cause a shit storm," Carl moaned. "Who screwed up?"

"Eve Trayson," Janet replied.

"Who the fuck is that?"

"The woman who sits there, just outside your office," Janet answered, pointing in the direction of Eve's cube.

"Get me her file. Has the mistake been rectified?"

Bob, ever the obsequious suck up spoke over Janet and said, "In process now, Carl."

"Not a word about this to anyone, and I mean anyone. Get me her file and get this fixed immediately. Let me know as soon as it is. Now get out, I have some unpleasant calls to make."

Despite his admonition for secrecy, like most corporate environments, word of the screw up had already spread among the rank and file in the department.

Janet and Bob scurried away, shutting the door behind them. Carl was not stupid, he hadn't risen to his position by being dumb. He immediately called the Senior Vice President he reported to and asked to see him. He was granted an audience right away so he headed for the elevator to go up one floor. On his way he looked over at Eve Trayson's cube. Her saw a small, brown haired form hunched over her key board.

Carl received a fairly vehement tongue lashing in his boss's office one floor above and returned to his office with steam coming out of his ears. Someone was going to have to bear the brunt of his anger and he knew who it would be. As he made his way back to his office Janet met him and handed him Eve's file. Carl snatched it quickly from her hand, stomped to his office and shut the door a little more firmly than usual.

He opened the file and read her reviews. Unremarkable in every way. Performance, average; test scores, average; passed over for promotion twice due to better candidates being available even though she had been with the Bank longer. His phone buzzed. Janet was on the line to tell him the mistake had been rectified and the other party had no problem back dating the transaction so that it would appear as if it had never happened.

Exhaling deeply in relief Carl quickly emailed his boss with the news and then called the client to report on the error and resolution. The individual he spoke with took the news without reaction and thanked him for being forthcoming. Carl did not believe that this conversation was the end of the story and was concerned that a major shitstorm might still result if calls were made from a senior level at the client to executives at the Bank.

Eve had taken note of the unusual activity between Janet, Bob and Carl and wondered what was up. She was becoming a little concerned when she noticed a few people, including Janet, looking at her from time to time. The concern grew through lunch as others stole looks at her as she worked and ate. By the time she returned to her desk after lunch she began to feel decidedly uncomfortable.

Due to the nature and size of the financial transactions the Bank handled they performed background checks on their employees. This was disclosed to each employee upon being offered a position. These checks were randomly updated during an employee's tenure with the company. Fortunately for Carl, Eve's information had been updated within the last six months and so he read the most recent update about her, including her life (or lack of a life) outside the Bank.

The portrait her file painted of Eve was of a meek woman who needed her job and so Carl decided that it would be easy for him to extract his pound of flesh from her. He decided that in order to have maximum impact he would wait until the end of the day to call her into his office. He passed his instructions on to Janet.

Eve's radar was up when Janet arrived at her cube, her face solemn. "Mr. Hayes wants you to stop by his office at the end of the day before you leave," was all she said.

A chill ran up Eve's spine and shivered all the way through her.

"Do you know what it's about?"

Janet mumbled, "I'll let Mr. Hayes tell you," as she walked away.

Fear began to build in Eve.

At 5:20 Carl heard the faintest of knocks on his door and looked up. There stood Eve. In a soft, almost squeaky voice she said, "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, Eve. Come in and shut the door behind you." He didn't offer her a seat so she stood in front of his desk.

Carl leaned back in his chair and appraised the woman standing before him. Not very tall, perhaps 5' 4" she had thick brown hair folded into a loose bun at the back of her head. She wore no makeup and her face appeared sallow and washed out. Her dress appeared to hang like a sack from her shoulders, shapeless and revealing little of the form beneath it. The hemline was below her knees. Her bare legs ended in a pair of scuffed, brown, flat shoes. If required to describe her in one word Carl would have said dull.

Eve fidgeted as she stared at the edge of the desk before her. Fear had grown since Janet's visit this afternoon and it manifested itself by raising her temperature so she felt very hot as she stood before Carl.

Carl decided that he would get everything he could from Eve as recompense for the dressing down he had received and the concern he felt abut potential future repercussions from the client and the floor above. Slowly, in a stern voice, he began to review the mistake that Eve had made on Friday and it's impact, both actual and possible. Inside he was enjoying seeing this docile woman quake before him.

As he concluded his recital of the event he looked straight at her. She raised her head and began to speak so quietly he barked, "Speak up."

"Are you going to fire me, sir?" she squeaked.

"I certainly would be be within my rights if I did," he stated.

Eve clasped her hands in front of her and pleaded, "Please don't fire me, sir. Please. I'm very, very sorry for having screwed up. I'll do whatever you ask to keep my job."

Carl arched an eyebrow as he listened to her. "Whatever I ask?"

"Yes, sir. I like this job. I don't want to have to look for another. Please don't fire me. I'll owe you if you protect me," she whined.

In reality Carl probably couldn't have fired Eve. This was the first blemish in her history at the Bank and while she would have been reported, perhaps demoted and certainly more closely watched for a while going forward, terminating her employment was not a likely option. But it appeared she didn't know that. So Carl chose to use her ignorance to his advantage.

The grin that Eve saw grow on Carl's face was a cross between a leer and a sneer. "Step around here to the side of my desk," he instructed, pointing to the floor beside his chair. He swiveled to follow her progress as she moved. He relished the look of capitulation on her face as she arrived at the spot indicated.

"Take off your dress," he ordered.

Eve gasped, "What?"

"You heard me, take off your dress."

"But.."

He cut her off with a raised hand. "Did you or did you not say 'I'll do anything to keep my job'?"

Though he would not have thought it possible Eve's shoulders slumped further. After a moment, with shaking hands, she bent to grasp the edge of her dress and pulled it up over her head letting it drop behind her. She couldn't find a place to settle her arms and her hands seemed to travel over her body first covering her breasts, then her crotch, then letting them hang awkwardly at her sides. Despite the ugly, beige, old style bra and the beige granny panties Carl was pleasantly surprised by the body before him and felt a twinge in his groin.

"Now the bra and panties."

"Sir, please, no." Eve appealed "Please don't make me do that."

Carl laughed a bit while just twirling his finger to indicate, go ahead and do it.

Slowly, while staring at the floor, Eve reached behind her to unclasp her bra. It fell to the floor as she bent forward to take hold of her panties at the hip and slide them to her feet.

"Kick off those shoes, too."

Eve flushed bright pink from her forehead to her chest as the humiliation of standing completely naked and exposed in front of this Vice President set in. As she straightened back up, but still looking at the floor, her entire self seemed to be revealed to this man.

Carl's erection was now straining in his pants as Eve's form was revealed. This meek little mouse was hiding a fabulous body under that sack of a dress! She was trim, with no excess anywhere on her. Her breasts were full and pert, likely a C cup, perhaps even a D. She had thick, half inch or more long, ruby nipples that proudly stood at attention. The curves from her ribs to her waist to her hips made her shape look like an hourglass. There was an unruly thatch of brown hair between her thighs that was a bit off putting but that could be easily dealt with.

Eve stood stock still in her shame. Carl had made no sound and she knew that he was ogling her from head to toes. When she dared to look up she was shocked to see him holding his cell phone and taking pictures of her.

"What do you think you are doing?" she screeched.

"Whatever the hell I like," he sneered in response. "Now turn around and show me your ass."

Huffing in anger and balling her hands into fists Eve slowly complied with his command. Her bum was every bit as nice as her front, firm but supple with two dimples in small of her back.

"Nice," Carl said, as much to himself as to Eve.

Eve looked back over her shoulder with ire in her eyes and caught him taking more pictures of her.

"Why?" she asked simply as she turned back to face him.

"Several reasons. First, simply because I can. Second, as, let's call it, insurance for the future. And third, because you have a very hot body and I want to be able to look at it when ever I want."

His smugness infuriated Eve but all she asked was, "What do you mean 'insurance for the future'?"

"Well, you see," he began, "I'm liking this little dynamic, me telling you what to do and you doing it. I don't think I want to give that up. While I can hold the threat of firing you over your head to ensure your acquiescing to my, let's call them requests, for a while, eventually that threat will wear thin and so these pics will provide a longer term commitment on your part."

Eve stood with her mouth open in shock as she listened.

"How appropriate that you have your mouth open. I want you to get on your knees and blow me, right here, right now!"

Her brain shut off at that point and she seemed to move as if guided by some puppeteer's hidden strings. Dropping to her knees in front of him she unzipped his fly and reached into his pants and boxers to extract his swollen cock. Not having had many dicks in her hands over the years she had little to compare it with but it was circumcised, seemed to be 6 or 7 inches long and as thick as the cardboard tube inside a roll of paper towels.

Closing her eyes, Eve leaned forward, extended her tongue and licked the underside of his head.

"Yessssss," Carl hissed.

Slowly she explored the glans by running her tongue all over it coating it in a thin sheen of her saliva. Her right hand held the shaft firmly but not too hard as she continued to lick. After a minute or so she felt Carl's hands in her hair forcing her down toward his crotch.

"Suck it, slut," he rasped.

She felt his prick invade her mouth, stretching her lips and jaw. Suddenly he yanked hard on her hair pulling her up.

"Watch your teeth, bitch!" he snapped at her.

"Sorry, sir," she whispered and lowered her mouth on him again, careful to keep her teeth away from his most sensitive flesh. Before long he was pushing and pulling her head down and up on his erection. With each down stroke he forced more of his cock into her mouth. When the tip hit the back of her throat she gagged and spit drooled from her lips down his shaft.

He was relentless despite her repeated gagging and increased the pace of her bobbing.

"I'm getting close slut. Make sure you swallow it all," he dictated.

Her pride burned at being called a slut but she knew that by her actions she could be considered a one. Naked, on her knees sucking off her boss's boss she was no better than a whore. Then she felt his legs stiffen and his hips rise, forcing his cock deep in her mouth. She could feel his dick pulse and then the warm goo filling her. She swallowed as quickly as she could so that the cum would not overflow her lips.

When she no longer felt him pulsing and he released his grip on her hair she raised up a little and sucked the last drops from the tip before he pushed her away, his penis too sensitive to accept any more attention.

She sat back on her heels, feeling a bit of rug burn on her knees and looked down at the saliva coating her breasts. She heard him zipping up his pants and then felt a condescending pat on her head.

"Very good, my little slut. Room for improvement, such as taking me all the way down your throat but an acceptable blow job none the less."

The blood rose, coloring her face and chest yet again as she listened to his smarmy words. "I am not your little slut," she said defiantly.

"Oh but you are," he laughed as he waved his cell phone in front of her displaying a picture that clearly showed her face with his penis in her mouth. "You are my slut and we are just getting started. Unlock your cell phone and give it to me."

She searched through her pile of clothes and took the phone out of her dress pocket, unlocked it and handed it to Carl. She watched as he created a new contact with his cell phone number and the name HIM all in caps.

"I expect that you will always answer my texts or calls promptly. You will follow all of my instructions, each and every time or you will be punished. We're just getting started, you and I, and there is so much I can do for you, and you for me."

"I'm certain I can guess what you want me to do for you but what is it you think you can do for me?"

"Oh, it's going to be a regular My Fair Lady/Pygmallion situation. I am going to make you blossom my little Eliza Doolittle. Now, pick up your things and scamper on home. Be ready to complete any tasks I assign you and find a carrot or cucumber to practice your BJ skills!"

Carl stood and put on his coat as he walked out of the office leaving Eve to scramble to cover up in fear the cleaners might see her naked. All the way home she was infuriated at the way Carl had treated her and she rehashed how he had used and humiliated her in his office. It was only as she recognized how sopping wet the encounter had made her pussy that she reconsidered the events in another light.