Black Box Ch. 01

Author's notes: This story series will take place in the same "pornographic universe" as my other two series, Wish Box and A Nice Apology. It might not appear to be a mind control story at first. But give it a few chapters and things will start to unfold.

Chapter 1.

No one dreams of becoming an accountant. This is maybe not a fact, but it was something I used to tell myself as I stared into the mirror in the mornings. My name is Peter, and this is a story about how a series of highly improbable or even magical, events turned my life completely upside down.

But let me start at the beginning. I grew up in foster care with my uncle, who happened to be a lousy card playing semi-drunk looser. In the end though, he did offer a roof over my head and always managed to put food on the table somehow. I quickly learned to take care of myself though, and also, I found already at an early age that I had a knack for numbers and puzzles. I thrived in school until I reached my teens when other stuff than being able to memorize the most numbers of decimals in PI started to become important. In high-school I was the odd kid that no one wanted to hang out with but I can't say I was bullied in any way. These were also the years when I discovered computers and I spent most my time learning every bit about both how they were built and how to program them. By my senior year I was an accomplished hacker and had also started to make programs that made probability calculations to solve hugely advanced math problems.

I had my mind set on going to college on a part scholarship when disaster struck. My deadbeat uncle finally gambled too much above his limit and the week before my graduation he was declared bankrupt and to my distress I found he had cleared out all my savings too in order to pay off his bookies. To make a long story short, instead of going to college and possibly becoming a math's Professor, I was forced to take a crappy job to help pay off his debts. These guys were not to be played with and they somehow considered me responsible for the debts too.

My uncle had a friend who owned an accounting firm. I never knew the exact details of how they knew each other, but since we were desperately searching for any opportunity to pay off the debts, my uncle explained my aptitude for numbers to him, and I was offered a job. I knew something was shady because one part of my already shitty salary went directly to the bookies in order to keep them from coming after us, and I never knew how long I would be forced to work there.

Fast forward to the day where my life would start to turn upside down. I took a deep breath and shut off the alarm on my phone. It was 6.30 in the morning and I forced myself out of bed and started my morning routine. As always, I stared into the mirror while brushing my teeth and repeated my mantra, "No one, dreams of becoming an accountant!" For almost a year I had worked this job and I still didn't know if I would ever be free. My uncle had moved out of the apartment and we had more or less fallen out of contact, but I was still paying for his debts. It took me over an hour to reach the office, which was good because it gave me time to calm down and to focus. I needed to do a good job and I had hopes that one day not too far from now I would be able to start saving for college again.

Despite the situation I was in, part of me felt lucky I ended up working with numbers at least, even though the tasks felt very menial and simple to me. My boss, Mr. Williams, was a short fat and balding man but an overall good guy. He treated everyone well and it seems that no one else but he knew about the arrangement with the bookies. Unfortunately for me, I was not working directly with Mr. Williams.

I was the assistant, or personal errand boy, to his wife Sarah, who was also the senior accountant at the firm. I was thrilled at first when I learned I would be working with Mrs. Williams. She was an absolutely gorgeous woman, although stiff and dare I say boring. Tall, blonde and with a voluptuous body she was quite the contrast to her husband. She really lived up to the stereotype of an accountant though. She always dressed conservatively and behaved like a prude. However, that still didn't stop me from admiring her body and she quickly turned into one of my main inspirations when masturbating. I would often beat off to the image of her wonderful tits or the thought of her full red lips wrapped around my throbbing cock.

It didn't take me long to learn that she could be sort of a bitch though. She had an aura of superiority, especially when her husband wasn't around, and she would make huge scenes out of the smallest mistakes. I don't know what issues she had with me, but I seemed to really tick her off, even when I delivered flawless work for her. Deep down I think she felt a resentment towards me for being so good at number and having such attention to details. Rumors around the office was that she only got the management job by sleeping with Mr. Williams and now she was using everyone else to cover for her own short comings.

Today started no different than any other day. I greeted my colleges by the coffee machine while Mrs. Williams was busy throwing papers around by the printers, acting like a true drama queen.

"Don't just stand there," she snapped as soon as she noticed me, "didn't I tell you to leave the files for my meeting on my desk yesterday?" she continued and shuffled around in the mess of papers around the printer.

"I put them right there," I said casually and walked into her office. I put aside one of her women's magazines that was spread open on her desk and picked up the pile of folders that I had left for her. I turned around just in time to see her storm into the office and she quickly ripped the folders right out of my hands.

"Don't be a smartass..." she huffed as she placed the folders in her briefcase and hurried out the door.

She was obviously late for a meeting again, and once she was out the door you could hear the office come to life again and I got a few knowing nods and smiles from my other co-workers. I think they all appreciated that I had become the main target for her little rage attacks, while they managed to stay under her radar. With her gone and my list of tasks for the day being so simple I managed to wrap everything urgent up in an hour or two, so I felt I had some time to play with my little secret project.

After I had realized I wouldn't be getting any real challenging work at this place, and knowing I would go mad if my brain stayed unstimulated, I had secretly installed one of my programs on the company server and every once in a while, when I had the opportunity, I was running an experiment trying to figure out a way to find book keeping errors or other mistakes. I figured that such a program could be valuable and I would most likely be able to both pay off my uncle's debts, and get myself through college if I could sell it.

Today, I was running a search and while I was waiting for the program to finish, I was pretending to sort the next stack of files for Mrs. William's next big meeting. I wasn't surprised to find a long list of mistakes once the search was done. But what did catch my attention was that a lot of them were connected to the same client. Usually there would be one or two mistakes per account, but in this case my program had found over ten thousand errors. I adjusted the search and ran it again to make sure it wasn't my program that was the cause and in the second run the list had grown to over a million errors.

They were tiny fractions of errors and it dawned upon me that someone could be running a scheme here. I remember reading about penny shaving but never figured someone would be stupid enough to try that today. Digging deeper I could find that all errors were indeed connected to the same client, an Italian exporter of rare goods, and to my horror I could also trace everything back to one user account, mine.

I could feel a chill down my spine as I verified the user name, but then I noticed something odd. The errors dated way back, to one week before I had received my access information. My mind was now set to solve this puzzle and it didn't take me long to access log-files and trace the user login to a specific computer at the office. To my amazement, I found it all originated from Mrs. William's office. I stared in disbelief at the screen for a good while before I methodically started to download a copy of it all to a USB drive and stored it as evidence. If this was fraud, it could mean the end for the company, and most likely the guilty people would end up in jail.

It crossed my mind that this could be my ticket out of here, but before I went ahead with something rash, I wanted to make sure I wasn't mistaken. I quickly removed my program from the server and made sure all traces of it were gone, I then took the USB drive home and spent all evening analyzing the data. It took me well past midnight to verify it all, but it looked solid, there was no doubt that someone ran a penny shaving scheme and it all originated from Mrs. William's computer. I made a few copies of my data before I went to bed, but I hardly got any sleep that night. My mind was too busy running scenarios on how to proceed with the information.

My head felt like a hardboiled egg about to crack when I woke up, but as I made my way into work my mind was made up. Once at the office I hurried through the lobby and knocked on the door to Mr. William's office. I usually never talked to him in private so he did look a bit surprised as I stepped in and closed the door. I assumed, since the bookies my uncle got in trouble with received parts of my salary, Mr. William was connected to them somehow, and the last thing I needed was to get into more trouble by implicating his wife in some advanced scheme. That's why I figured I would give him the evidence, and let him handle it.

"Mr. Williams," I started, sounding way more confident than I expected, "I have something to show you."

"I'm sure one of the accountants can help you," he interrupted, and gave me a stern look.

"No, I think this matter requires your attention personally," I continued and carefully placed the USB drive on his desk.

"What's this?" he asked and took the drive in his hand and examined it.

"Just have a look at the files on it, and I will explain," I said, and took a step back from his desk and nervously pocketed my hands to help me stay calm. Mr. Williams shrugged and planted the drive in his computer and turned a serious face as he started to browse the files.

"I found these errors by mistake," I said, not feeling comfortable telling him about my little experimental software that had been searching through the company servers. I had erased all traces of it already, and felt pretty sure no one could find evidence of it. Mr. Williams's expression turned even more serious as he kept browsing the data.

"As you can see, there's a pattern to these mistakes. They were obviously planted there," I continued, "and they seem to implicate myself, but as you see on the dates, this started before I received access to the system."

Mr. Williams still stared at the screen with a stern look on his face and only broke away to look right at me for a second when I went on to explain the final parts of my findings. "I'm afraid, there is no doubt that this originated from your wife's computer," I said and I could see him start to look furious as he most likely realized the data was correct. He let out a deep sigh and finally spoke to me.

"I assume you want something for this information," he said in a stone-cold voice and stared right at me.

"No, please listen," I said, my voice shaking, "that's not why I'm here. I just want you to know that I had nothing to do with it. What you do with the information is none of my business."

"Alright then," he said with a huff, but just as he was about to continue his eyes darted to the screen again and his face went pale.

"What account is this again?" he said with a cough, and his fingers furiously smattered over his keyboard as he seemed to search for something. He finally leaned back in his chair and gently bumped a fist into his forehead several times, his face still pale, almost as if he had seen a ghost.

"Have you shown this to anyone else Peter?" he asked and looked up at me.

"No, and you have the only copy," I said, knowing I would get rid of all my copies as soon as I got home. I wanted nothing to do with this mess.

"That's good," he said, "and I'm sorry Peter, but I will have to let you go. Don't worry about your uncle's debt, that will all be taken care of. You just go home now, and never come back here again. Do you understand?"

"I honestly don't," I said, as a sense of panic started to build, "but I hear you, I won't be back."

With that I left the office without a word to anyone. On my way home that sense of panic kept growing but then slowly faded as I was coming to terms with what had happened. I was finally free from the debts, and if I could only find a new job I could start to save up for college. I spent the day home, working some more on my software, to make sure I really had the right data, but I couldn't find anything wrong with it. The next day I started looking up job opportunities and even started to look at some college applications. I few days later I had my first interviews scheduled and I was happily watching TV after dinner when my phone rang. I picked it up, assuming it was some random sales call, but to my surprise it was Mr. Williams calling.

"Peter," he said, "I believe I was a bit hasty last we spoke. I need you back at the office, right now. It's important, so I have called for a taxi to come pick you up. Be ready in five minutes."

"But," I started to protest but realized he had already hung up on me. I figured this was bad, but also realized I probably didn't have much choice. I had to show up, so I made my way down to the street, and soon a taxi came to pick me up and drove me to the office. Once there, the building seemed empty as I made my way through the downstairs lobby, but as I stepped out the elevator, I saw a bunch of people sitting in our large conference room.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Williams were there, together with two men in suits, and a woman that looked, in lack of a better comparison, like a Bond villain's henchwoman. She was tall with long red hair in a pony tail, and an athletic body that was wrapped in black leather pants, high heel boots and a tight leather top that when she turned to look at me, I realized showed off an impressive cleavage.

"Come in here kid," the older of the two men said. He spoke with some foreign accent and I figured that if the redhead was the henchwoman, this was most likely the villain. I quickly looked at Mr. Williams and saw that he had a serious look on his face and Mrs. Williams just stared down into the table.

"Why is he here," she whispered at Mr. Williams, barely moving her lips as she spoke.

"Just be quiet you fool," he whispered back at her, "don't you realize what you've done."

"Shut up, the both of you," the other man said and both Mr. and Mrs. Williams froze and went silent.

"I don't take people stealing from me lightly," the old man continued, "and especially not when you try to play me for a fool."

"I am sorry! We will pay back every cent," Mr. Williams pleaded.

"That you will," the old man said, and turned towards him, "with interest."

"You will have my money transferred tomorrow, and then I don't want to hear from you again, ever. I'll be taking over this company, and I expect your resignation in writing before you leave. Is that clear?"

"Yes, of course," Mr. Williams sighed, but almost looked relieved as the old man now turned towards me.

"You're the kid that found out about their little scheme?" he said and looked straight at me.

"Mhm yes," I mumbled, "yes Sir I mean."

"It's Mr. Salvio," the old man said and reached out to shake my hand, "and you did good. Tell me, how was it that you discovered this anyways, and tell me the truth now."

I figured lying to this guy would be a huge mistake so I decided to come clean. "I was just testing a program I'm working on," I started and I heard Mr. Williams grumble but before he could speak up the other man gave him an angry look and he fell silent again.

"It found all the small errors in the books, too small to be noticed by the accountants, and when I traced it, I found out that it was planted there by someone using my account," I continued.

"So, it was you then?" the old man asked with a raised brow and a small grin.

"No," I almost screamed, my voice cracking, "it was planted even before I started here, by her!" I said and pointed at Mrs. Williams.

"Relax kid," Mr. Salvio chuckled, "she's already told us, which is good. If it's one thing I hate, it's a liar."

The whole room fell silent now, and I swear I could hear the drops of sweat that were sliding down the side of my face.

"But I like you," Mr. Salvio said in a loud voice that made me almost jump where I stood, "and I think I could make use of someone with your talents. I want you to take over for Mr. Williams here, and put full focus on developing that program. Show me what it really can do."

"What, I can't run a business," I cried out, again with a cracked voice.

"Ah, don't worry, Sarah will be here to assist you, won't you?" the old man said and turned to look at her. She looked honestly confused and turned to her husband.

"Didn't you say we could leave?" she said with a soft voice that was a huge contrast to the bitchy tone she normally used around the office.

"I said he could leave," the old man said and pointed to Mr. Williams, "but you will stay right here where we can keep an eye on you."

"Honey please," she almost cried and reached for Mr. Williams's hand, "can't you do something?"

"Stop it," Mr. Williams hissed at her, "just do as you are told."

The old man let out a grunt and then took me by the arm and led me out of the conference room. "I have high hopes for you kid," he said and smiled as we walked towards the elevator, "you make sure to keep working on that program. I will give you a call when I need your services, and we can put it to another little test. Meanwhile, enjoy your time here, and don't worry about the practicalities. Sarah will take care of everything for you."

The two men disappeared into the elevator and the woman followed Mr. Williams into his office. I took a seat in the couch out by the lobby and waited, throwing glances over towards the conference room where Mrs. Williams sat motionless resting her head in her palms. There was an eerie silence in the office that only broke when the woman emerged from Mr. Williams's office with a bunch of folders under her arm. Seconds later I felt my phone buzz in my pocket as I received an e-mail. I quickly opened it and gasped as I read.

This was a message to all employees from Mr. Williams, telling us that the company had received unexpected expenses and would be shut down, everyone would receive their notices in separate e-mails. The woman made her way back into the conference room, where she leaned in close to Mrs. Williams and whispered something in her ear and then nodded towards me.

I couldn't make out a word they said, but the woman just kept smiling as Mrs. Williams nodded and stared blankly into the glass wall in front of her. Their conversation ended just as Mr. Williams came out from his office carrying two briefcases, and wearing his coat, obviously ready to leave.

"You have no one to blame here but yourself," he said, as he stopped by the door to the conference room, "just do as your told now for once in your life."