Instagram Tales - Isabel Stadler

But where once she'd had free rein to do as she liked with her displays, now John pulled her into line with the rest of the stores countrywide.

"Sorry Izzy you're going to have to change it," he said rudely, as he cast his eye over her latest display. He knew it had taken her two days to move everything around until she was satisfied with the result, deeming it perfect. It actually did look really good but telling her that wasn't going to help him in his quest.

"You what ... but why?" Isabel whined, as she looked horrified at the prospect, "what's wrong with it?"

"Well for one thing, you've not followed the planogram," he replied condescendingly.

"But ... but.. the plans are shit ..." Isabel stuttered before John cut her off.

"Company policy Isabel, no ifs ... no buts ... no maybes ... get it changed," he snapped. He turned to walk away but paused and looked back over his shoulder. "And get it done by tonight. No excuses."

Isabel clenched her fists in anger as she watched him stroll away. She was seething. She'd never felt so belittled. Every manger before John had loved her innovative merchandising displays and her increased sales proved she knew what she was doing. But this ... this was intolerable.

She shook her head in frustration and as tears formed in her eyes, angrily began to dismantle her display.

*

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Over the ensuing weeks John's dismissive attitude about her displays paled into insignificance when he began to question everything she did at work.

It seemed to her that she was singled out for criticism. Nothing she did pleased him. He questioned her work ethic as well as her surly attitude when she railed back at his constant carping. She felt he was being unfair and told him so. Again his response was for her to 'up her game'. He couldn't afford to carry staff who weren't prepared to go that extra mile. The pressure was on, to achieve more sales. Either step up or leave.

Isabel became more and more incensed at the unfairness of it all. In her opinion she was one of the very few members of staff who worked hard to make their store successful. But here was John casting doubt on her performance and commitment.

And then to add salt into her wounds, John then arbitrarily began to change her shifts. Isabel had worked the same shift rotation for years and had built a life for herself outside of work around that. But now, not only had John put her down to work more late nights, he had her on early morning openings for the following day. It left her tired and irritable, especially as Dominic did virtually no housework to help out at home.

"Why did you change my shifts John?" Isabel said when she went to see him a couple of weeks after receiving her changed shift pattern. "For months I've always worked that shift pattern."

"Needs must Izzy," he replied with a smirk. "Besides, you didn't complain about working them for the last two weeks."

"I was helping out."

"Well good for you," John replied condescendingly.

"But I was told it was only a temporary measure."

"Well, now it isn't," John replied curtly.

"But it's not fair. You've got me down for three late nights in the week with early morning openings the next day after two of them."

"You saying you won't do them then Izzy?" John said pointedly.

Isabel hesitated.

"It's what I want Izzy and if you don't like it, you can always leave. I won't have any problem replacing you."

The look of horror on Isabel's face pleased him. He could tell she was upset because he knew she needed the job. He was definitely getting to her.

"Anything else Izzy? If not I would be obliged if you would clear off and get some work done. And close the door on your way out."

Seething internally, Isabel stormed out of John's office, completely missing the smug grin that was plastered all over his face.

*

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THE PRESSURE BUILDS

A major side effect of Dominic's injuries following his accident was that for some reason, it left him susceptible to infection. He'd had a couple of illnesses before, which had confined him to bed. Being incapable of looking after himself Izzy had taken holiday days to nurse him back to health, but now he was ill again.

This time Isabel rang in sick. It was a tough decision to make as morally and ethically she knew she shouldn't. After all she wasn't ill but she had no more holiday days to use and could ill afford not to be paid.

It didn't take John long before he spotted a recurring theme with Isabel's absences from work. By surreptitious and careful questioning of Isabel's work colleagues he soon found out about Dominic's illness relapses.

After each absence Isabel had to attend a 'return to work' meeting when she was questioned as to the reason for her time off. John took great delight in informing Isabel of her rapidly increasing Bradford score. It meant very little to Isabel. To her it was yet another thing that 'big business' used to make their staff more uncomfortable.

It was a few months later when Isabel was summoned to John's office following yet another absence from work. She no sooner had taken her seat than he was all business.

"Isabel, as you know you've had a lot of time off over the last few months and as a result your Bradford score has gone through the roof. Unfortunately because of these many absences I have no alternative but to put you into a Short Term Stage 1 Sickness Absence Management procedure."

Isabel shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, fine, whatever," she replied flippantly.

John smiled malevolently. "By your flippant response Isabel, I'm not sure you're taking this seriously enough; so let me read what it says here," he said, as he referred to the paper in his hand.

"If, with support, a satisfactory level of attendance has not been achieved or maintained it may become necessary to issue a formal warning, to inform the employee that his/her job may be at risk if attendance levels do not improve."

He paused to see how Isabel was reacting. She just looked blankly back at him.

He carried on. "If, with support, and following a formal warning, a satisfactory level of attendance has NOT been achieved or maintained, it may become necessary to dismiss the employee on the grounds of capability."

He lay the document down on his desk and looked up at Isabel.

"What does that all mean? I'm not sure I understand," she said irritably.

"Bottom line Izzy and putting it bluntly ... anymore time off work and you're toast. I can sack your sorry arse," John said with relish.

He sat back in his chair watching as a range of different emotions flooded across her face. First shock, followed by horror and then stark realisation.

"No, you can't ... I need this job. You don't understand. It wasn't me that was sick. I took the time off to look after Dominic ..." She stopped abruptly as she realised what she'd just blurted out.

"I ... I ... what I mean is ..."

"I know exactly what you mean Izzy, in fact I've known for sometime that you've been ripping the company off. In a way that's probably grounds for dismissal on it's own."

"But why ... if you knew, why didn't you say something?" Isabel blurted out. She felt sick to her stomach. She just couldn't lose her job. Not now, not with the way things were at home.

"Well, I just wanted to see where it took you. I know you're desperate to keep your job."

"Yes ... please ... please don't sack me. I don't know what I'll do if I lose my job ... I ... I'll do anything ... please, just don't sack me."

John smiled inwardly to himself in smug satisfaction. She'd just uttered those three immortal words. 'I'll do anything!'

"Interesting choice of words there Izzy," he said. He stood and walked over to the door before he turned towards her. "I tell you what, I just need to make a telephone call, so I'll step outside for five or ten minutes to let you think about what you've just said."

With a nod and a smirk in her direction he closed the door behind him and left Isabel alone with her thoughts. She was close to tears. How had her life disintegrated so fast? One minute she was alive and happy and looking forward to a glorious life with Dominic and now she was on the verge of losing everything. She sniffled into a tissue, wiping the tears from her eyes as she pondered on what she could do.

All too soon John returned, his entry into the office making her jump.

"Come to any decision yet then Izzy," he said as he turned and locked the door. He walked over to where she was sitting and towered over her.

Isabel swallowed hard as she looked up into his face.

"No," she whimpered, "I don't know what you want of me," she added sorrowfully.

"Okay, let me show you then," John said with a leer. He grabbed hold of her hands and pulled her up out of her chair and into his arms. He leaned in quickly and kissed her. It happened so fast that it took Isabel a few seconds to realise what was happening to her. She was soon struggling to escape his lips as he manhandled her up against the wall of his office and pinned her there.

She struggled, her hands clawing at his arms trying to free herself from his grip. She could feel the strength of his body as it pressed against hers, one hand holding her in place comfortably whilst his other cupped her face to stop her from twisting away. He was persistent and soon she found her lips fused to his as he tried to force his tongue inside her mouth.

"Please ... no ... stop," she whimpered as she managed to free her lips from his, "please ... I ... don't ... no .... please ...."

Her pleas were cut short as John forced his lips against hers once more. This time his tongue made it inside her mouth and despite her best efforts Isabel soon found her own tongue responding.

Soon she was kissing him back. She didn't want to but she couldn't help it. She still struggled to free herself from his grip but she wasn't putting up much of a fight by the time he'd got his tongue inside her mouth.

John was beside himself with lust. Her full lips were every bit as tasty as he remembered. Who cared if she wasn't fully into this. She was still kissing him back even though he knew she was reluctant to do so.

He moved a hand up and closed it around one of her breasts. He groaned inwardly, revelling in the sensation of having that large, heavy mound of flesh in his hand.

Isabel broke the kiss. "Please ... John ... no ... don't ... please ..." she whimpered as she tried to move his hand away.

John leered back at her as he looked deep into her eyes. "Don't you want me to do that to you Izzy?"

She shook her head and he grinned.

"Yeah you do," he replied with a wicked grin. He leaned in and kissed her hard, his hand resuming the manipulation of her breast. He knew he was getting to her. Even through her blouse and bra he could feel her nipple had become erect and hard. She was weakening, her breathing had become laboured and she had begun to push herself against his body in desire rather than in an attempt to free herself.

It wouldn't be long now. He just wondered whether he had the balls to actually fuck her in his office during opening hours. It was risky but what a buzz that would be!

It was the urgent ringing of the phone that broke the spell. He sighed deeply as he reluctantly let go off Isabel's boob and picked it up.

"Yep," he said.

As he released his hold of Isabel she slumped back against the wall, her head hung low in shame. Her whole body was quivering. And she didn't know if it was from shock or arousal.

"Yeah, I'll be right there." He hung up the phone before turning back to Isabel.

"I think we need to discuss your situation somewhere we won't be disturbed don't you? I suggest you give it some thought and if you want to save your job then we'll meet up on Friday night to compare notes. How does that sound?"

"Friday night? I'm not sure I understand," she said with a worried frown.

"Well I don't think we should discuss things here at work do you? Let's be civilised about this. I'll take you out Friday night to a quiet place where we can talk about your future whilst having a drink or two."

"What like a date?" she reacted, "you want to take me out ... on a date?"

"No, not a date Izzy. Think of it as more a relaxed informal meeting between two work colleagues away from the rigidity of work. I think we owe you that much, don't you?"

"I guess so," she replied. She paused for a moment or two before adding, "what should I wear?"

John grinned in reply, "I'll leave you to figure that one out."

After he left Isabel staggered off to the toilet. She sat for a while with her legs pressed together willing the ache between her thighs to subside. She felt dirty and used at what had happened and guilty and ashamed because she realised that part of her had become aroused and excited.

*

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END GAME

Friday night came around all too soon for Isabel's liking. She'd finally figured out what John wanted. Of course she'd really known all along but had been hoping that she had misread the signs. She knew now she'd only been deluding herself.

Earlier she'd told Dominic the lie about meeting up with work colleagues for a night out. He'd not seemed bothered. But as she applied the finishing touches to her makeup she found herself thinking back to the way she'd behaved with John on the dance floor all those weeks ago when he'd kissed her and groped her breasts and touched her most intimate of parts.

She felt the rush of guilt and was ashamed. She was a married woman and yet she'd allowed another man to kiss her. And if that in itself wasn't bad enough she'd then allowed him to touch her intimately. And that just wasn't right, on any level.

And that was before John had turned to blackmail. Because that's what this was now, especially after the incident in his office. That was when he'd shown his real intentions. She knew now that everything that had gone before was to set her up for this one act. It had only ever been about sex and she cursed herself for being so stupidly naive. She'd been totally unprepared and then shocked at the depths to which he'd stooped to get inside her panties.

She took a taxi to the bar. Dominic had seemed uninterested in her leaving, barely acknowledging her when she said goodbye. She was tense, her stomach in knots when she entered the bar and saw John rise from his booth seat to meet her.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. Her navy blue skirt was short, somewhere between her bum and mid thigh. It was tight and clung to her long, slender legs, stretching pleasingly with each fluid movement of her body, her purposeful stride belying the reluctance she felt inside as she made her way across the floor towards him.

As she drew closer he could see her top was a simple, slate grey coloured tee shirt that was cut low enough to reveal a generous amount of cleavage and tight enough to highlight the size of her breasts. A short, fashionable grey leather jacket completed her outfit. It was simple but she looked great.

"You came," John said with a grin, "I wasn't sure if you would."

Isabel gave him a weak grimace in return. "You made it sound like I had little choice," she replied.

"Indeed I did," he chuckled as he guided her into the booth.

"I already got us a bottle of wine, I hope you like white," he added as he slid in close alongside her. He poured her a glass and handed it to her. He was sitting far too close for her liking. Plus his lingering stare was making her uncomfortable. She took a deep draft, feeling the slightly sour taste of the dry white wine. She took another drink to calm her nerves. It tasted slightly better.

John took his time as he looked her over. She certainly wasn't a beautiful woman, if truth be told she wasn't even that pretty. Not in a conventional way. But she certainly had something. Maybe it was her angular look where everything was out of alignment, but which just served to make her beautiful in a different way. She seemed to exude an overt sensuality that he found hard to resist. But then again she had big tits, so maybe that was all he truly liked and responded to.

"I've seen this outfit before," he suddenly said.

Isabel looked at him with surprise. "What do you mean? When ... where?"

John sat back and smiled. He tilted his head sideways to look at her legs. Isabel tugged at the hem of her skirt but to no avail. She looked up into his face to see him smirking back at her.

She let out a loud sigh signalling her disgust. "So, when have you seen me in this?" she asked irritably. She took another drink from her glass of wine. It wasn't so bad after all, in fact it was quite nice.

John leaned forward and refilled her glass. "I've seen a picture, on your Instagram account," he said with a smile.

"My Instagram? You've looked at my Instagram account? Why would you do that? And besides that ... how did you find it?"

John pulled his head back in faux shock. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise it was a private account. You do know you can restrict who looks at it, don't you? But obviously you like the attention and judging by the photos you've posted, you don't mind flaunting your body to the world, showing your tits and your arse and your sexy lingerie. And yet, here you are making out that you're disgusted by the whole thing. You know what Izzy, if you don't want people to look at your body then don't post body revealing pictures on the internet!"

"I ... well ... I didn't ... I didn't post them. It's my husband's account. He put them on, not me!"

John laughed. "So your husband is happy to let men and no doubt some women too, look at racy pictures of your body and fantasise about you? Is that what you're trying to say here Izzy? Your cuck husband gets off on thinking that men are beating one out over your pictures?"

"Oh that's disgusting!" You know what, you really are a pig."

"ME! It's not me who's posting scantily clad pictures of you on the worldwide web now is it? It's your husband that's the pig. But you know what, I think you get off on it."

"I do NOT!" she responded angrily.

John laughed again. "Okay, if you say so Izzy." He paused briefly as he took a sip from his drink. Returning the glass to the table he topped it up before he continued.

"So what about that last photo then, you know the one, the one where you're naked from the waist up, the one taken from behind but at such an angle that it shows a side shot of your breast?"

He paused and smiled when he saw the look on her face.

"That's a great picture - and not a hint of sag. Really quite impressive - given the size of your tits! I've already fapped off to that one a few times!" he added with a grin.

"Oh, you're disgusting," Isabel replied quietly.

"ME! I'm Disgusting? As I've already said, I'm not the one posting naked pictures of you. That would be your husband. Or did you not know about that one?"

"Yes of course I did. But he's an artist. I did it for his art, nothing more. I'm his muse."

John laughed again. "You're his muse! Don't make me laugh. He's a fucking pervert who gets off on the idea of men like me wanking themselves off to pictures of you. And I think you get a thrill from it as well. You like to be centre of attention, on display, showing off your sexy curves, flaunting your body. It turns you on."

"No you're wrong and no it doesn't," Isabel countered anxiously. The things that John had just said made it all seem so cheap and tawdry, the exact opposite to what Dominic had said to her when they'd first discussed posing and then posting the pictures.

"Yeah it does," John said, as he moved closer. Isabel grimaced. He was too close, she could feel his hot breath on her face as he leaned in towards her and added, "and I bet if I put my hand up your skirt and touch your panties, I'll find you're already wet."