Life as a New Hire Ch. 04

"Ah, Katrina," I mumbled, "did we have a...'if we were married' moment?" Before she could respond, "Wait, have I missed picking up the kids?" I blurted out.

"I'm still here, Dummy," Desiree sneered.

"Thank goodness," I rasped. "I'm seeing double and I was terrified there were three of you."

"He's fine," Desiree addressed the room, "and you tried to get Katrina to breast-feed you, too."

"Ugh...that's unfortunate," I looked down. "Do I still have a job? If so, can I go home and change. I seem to have torn my coat...and my shirt."

"No rest for you yet, Cáel," Katrina stated. "Now, Elsa, please hand me your firearm." My vision was finally doing me some good and that wasn't good. Katrina had an automatic pistol aimed at Elsa's head. Desiree had a pistol in her right hand and was standing by the door. Tessa was by Katrina's desk, her poise indicating displeasure.

Elsa deftly drew her pistol, turned it barrel first and handed it to Katrina. She immediately backed toward me, keeping her pistol leveled at Elsa.

"Cáel, are your hands and eyesight steady?" she inquired. I held out my hands. They were sore, yet level.

"Yes, Katrina," I answered. She handed me Elsa's pistol.

"Kill her - kill Elsa," Katrina directed. Elsa's eyes widened, but she held firm. Constanza was less controlled.

"You can't do this," Constanza gasped. "He's a male."

"Are you volunteering to take Elsa's place?" Katrina offered. Constanza's mouth gaped then shut.

"Cáel?" Katrina prodded me.

"Do we even need to go over why this is wrong?" I groaned. My head hurt. "She didn't try to kill me, Katrina. All she wanted to know was something that was none of her business."

"Okay, so she and her thugs stunned me to Hell and back and I really want to jack-slap her, but I'm not going to shoot her. She was just doing her job - a bit misguided perhaps. Had she wanted me dead, I'd be dead. If she was going against you, Katrina, she would have taken me off site," I reasoned.

"Besides, unlike those two, I don't attack defenseless people," I remarked. "I'm in Executive Services. I'll leave the sleazy stuff to your pathetic skanks in Security. They seem to get off on that kind of thing." I struggled to my feet, swayed a bit then staggered over to Elsa. "Here you go, Bitch. Knock yourself out. I've got work to do." I handed her the gun, grip first.

Elsa took it, stood up and pressed the barrel to my chest.

"I should kill you for your words alone," Elsa glared. I smiled.

"Go ahead. You may want to note that while I screened Katrina, I left Desiree a clear shot. Go ahead and commit suicide. I'm sure you, me and Constanza will fill a grave nicely," I smirked.

I looked over to Constanza. "You don't think Katrina can let you live if Desiree kills Elsa over a male-problem, do you?"

"They won't shoot," Elsa declared. "You don't understand Havenstone."

"You need to work on your people skills. I know three things of relevance," I grinned.

"You think less of Desiree for reasons that have nothing to do with her bravery, or competence. You want to kill me yet you'd die for Katrina - which is another reason I didn't shoot you. Finally, I've never lied to you. You are one of the most attractive women I've met here and your ass really is a wondrous work of art - my hand to God," I swore.

If Elsa had truly liked me, she'd have shot my balls off. As it was, it was the same old refrain - almost. Elsa, whipped the gun down, grabbed the back of my head and initiated a French kiss that would have brought Charlemagne back from the dead. On the plus side, I got to fondle her firm, muscularly perfect ass and bring forth several wanton moans from deep within her core.

"Cáel! To my side," Desiree snapped. I had to untangle myself from Elsa and man oh man, did she have strong hands. I quick-stepped it to Desiree's side. "You're hopeless," she muttered. "Katrina, I have to get him some fresh clothes."

"Back to the queue, you two," Katrina dismissed us. Elsa and Constanza watched me leave - my damn ass again.

"You are worthless," Desiree grumbled as we got onto the elevator.

"Wait - she kissed me. Why is this my fault?" I complained.

"You suddenly forgot how to dodge?" Desiree countered.

"She had a gun on me," I reposed.

"Fine. You are hopeless and a gutless wonder," Desiree piled it on.

"You are not jealous, are you?" I teased.

"Don't make me shoot you," she glared. "I have a gun this time, too."

"Thank goodness," I sighed. "Otherwise I might have told you how I truly felt then kissed you and that would have cost me my job."

"Shut up, or do you want to ride the elevator the rest of the day?" Desiree threatened. I wisely kept my yap zipped. When we got to my apartment, Desiree followed me up for the first time. I was getting in the 'girlfriend has a gun' way, which was stupid because I was already trying to date a cop and then there was the whole Buffy factor.

Her appearance had an unforeseen utility; my new bed and suspension rig had arrived, all courtesy of Havenstone written off as business expenses. It seems Helena and Buffy might not need to get me a new bed after all. That was still 80 days away and I knew how much damage I could do to a bedroom set in only one semester. True, a girl set that mattress on fire, but at least she waited for me to jump off first.

Without comment, Desiree helped me move my old bed out to the hallway, set up and put the sheets on the new bed and finally moved the boxes with the bondage aids onto my bed. I dressed while she watched - old hat - and we finished the hour by taking my old mattress to the curb. Yes, I lived in one of those neighborhoods.

We made the academy with enough awkward time to spare. It was also enough time for that nice school security officer to come by and chat with me. She was Brazilian, divorced with a three year old son. She tried being sultry. I talked about age appropriate boy toys, parks with good playgrounds and asked where the most authentic Brazilian eateries were located.

Seriously, a web search for children's toys takes five minutes. All women want to be seen as desirable in some manner. Mothers want to know you don't find their children to be a turn off. Immigrants want to know you are curious about their cultures. They may love America, but they are also a bit homesick.

Indulging a woman's interests is never wrong - unless you are a sexual deviant like me; then it is plain moronic and self-destructive. She had to hurry off to perform her duties. I leaned against the car while Desiree stared at me.

"Yes?" I sighed.

"She's a former state criminal investigator back home," Desiree informed me. "She caught her now ex-husband cheating on her and nearly killed both of them. She was acquitted because he shot her first."

"She kicked both their asses AFTER she was shot?" I gulped.

"In the left shoulder," Desiree regarded me impassively.

"And you couldn't have brought this up BEFORE I talked with her?" I groaned.

"Oh, you think that was mean; wait until I tell Buffy that you kissed and felt up Elsa," she continued. "I don't have to kill you. You'll get any number of women to do it for me."

"Hey, Elsa wasn't my fault," I griped.

"Who do you think Buffy will believe, me - whom she's known for years, or you - who apparently jumps on anyone who isn't her?" Desiree pointed out.

"I can't believe you are passing up the chance to push me off the Empire State Building," I sighed. "Missing an opportunity to make my life unpleasant is so unlike you."

"That's not so," Desiree sounded oddly sympathetic. "I get my enjoyment from watching you destroy yourself without me lifting a finger."

"I knew it," I crowed triumphantly. Desiree appeared annoyed. "You like to watch me."

"I really should shoot you," Desiree lowered her head.

"I'll put on a set of deer antlers if that'll put you in the mood," I offered. She put her hand on the grip of her holstered pistol and glared.

"Daddy," Aya cried out. Ah, and Ulyssa was with her. If Rachel stepped out, I was a goner. Sometimes I get what I deserve. Most of the time, though, I get away with murder.

Aya mugged me and wouldn't let go until I picked her up and put her on my hip. Her endearing joy helped me deal with her constricting my airways.

"I see you are making Aya a very happy girl," Ulyssa purred.

"Devotion to education is a passionate endeavor," I nodded.

With the 'devotion' she showed her forefinger with her lips, I was left praying for a solar eclipse and some bushes to jump behind for a little personal tutoring. Europa's nudge reminded me I had a job I was supposed to be doing. I got the girls settled and winked to Ulyssa before taking my seat as well.

We made it four blocks.

"You are having sex with Ms. Reichmann, aren't you?" Aya peeped. Oh, shit.

"Wait, I heard you had sex with Ms. Simpson this morning?" Loraine gasped. Oh, shit.

"I saw him chatting up that dark-skinned security guard," Europa teased. Oh, shit - why do I bother?

"Does that mean you can have sex with Mommy now?" Aya exclaimed happily. I openly wept. I was expecting for the older two to pile it on - instead.

"Is that a burn mark on the back of your neck?" Loraine touched the area. "Are you having kinky sex?" I wept some more.

"No," Desiree rescued me. "He had a run-in with Elsa this morning after we dropped you off."

"Elsa? What did she want to talk to you about?" Europa asked. Loraine was still rubbing my neck.

"Not so much talk as torture and drug me in an effort to - OW!" I gasped as Desiree punched me in the ribs.

"That was totally unnecessary," I grumbled. "The kids need to be warned...Elsa wants to know how the Wicked Witch stuffed Hansel and Gretel into that oven. I suspect some sinister plot behind her villainous intentions."

"Can we ever believe what you say?" Europa snickered.

"Trust me," I grinned. "Truthfulness when dating women is counter-productive."

"Don't listen to him girls," Desiree told them. "He's a pig."

"I have more experience successfully dating women than you have," I provoked Desiree.

"I will shoot you," Desiree threatened.

"Desiree," Loraine gasped, "did you just crack a joke?"

"I wasn't joking," Desiree insisted.

"Cáel, have you ever been shot before?" Europa asked.

"Do you mean 'shot at', or 'shot at and hit'?" I requested.

"You've been shot - hit with a bullet...or arrow?" Aya gulped.

"I have been shot at with a shotgun, but she missed. It was only rock salt anyway," I informed them. "I've been stabbed an unhealthy amount. Slapping is a regular occurrence, as are nut-shots and, as obviously exhibited here, being punched."

"Don't die," Aya pleaded. "Marry Mommy and she'll keep you safe." Damn, that child was persistent. I reached back and tweaked her nose.

"Your Mom and I are going to wait a while before we make any commitments, Aya, and you are going to let your Mom tuck you in tonight," I told her.

"But I don't want to," Aya frowned. Maybe I had lost my mind and not realized it. Maybe some of that residual electric current Constanza had gifted me with had one last jolt in it.

"How about this; I'll set up a sleeping area at my place and the three of you can come by occasionally and have a sleep over. I'm sure my gay roommate will love it," I uttered.

"I'd like that," Loraine perked up. "Could I sleep in your bed?"

"Sure, as long as I'm sleeping somewhere else," I groaned.

"You are not even making it a challenge," Desiree muttered. My vanishing life expectancy?

"I'd like to sleep with you," Aya smiled.

"I think we'd all like to sleep with you, Cáel," Europa mocked me.

"He's received a brand new bed today. How appropriate," Desiree added to the mockery.

"I can't wait to tell Mommy," Aya giggled. "She'll be so happy." How did she come up with that delusion? "When can we come over? Tomorrow? Saturday?"

"Oh, I wish I could but...Desiree has me doing errands all weekend long," I lied.

"That's okay," Desiree mused. "You are free Saturday night. You get to go in with Aya and ask her Mom's permission. Good luck, Stud." I felt that, with my imminent death approaching, I was somehow letting Katrina down.

To add to the bizarre, I knew that Katrina was a big wheel in a cult of diabolical murderers - and I still felt bad for her and her misplaced faith in me. We pulled up in front of the children's home and Desiree let me escort them in - alone. Mom was right there waiting for us. Oh joy.

"Hello Caitlyn Ruger, I am Cáel Nyilas. I humbly request your permission to invite your three daughters to my dwelling Saturday evening for a sleep over," I politely spoke.

"Very well," Mom didn't even blink. Perhaps I was still in Elsa's office, my mind broken from an overload of chemical and physical abuse. "Is there anything else?" I shook my head. Aya was squealing and the other two were stunned. "Pick them up at six and have them home by two p.m. Sunday."

"Yes, Ma'am - Ms. Caitlyn," I gulped.

"It is Caitlyn, Cáel," she gave me a slight upturn of the lips. Fuck! She looked horny!! I liked Aya. That didn't mean I wanted to be her Daddy for real. Marrying Caitlyn was right up there with 'death by multiple girlfriends' in my book.

"Caitlyn, young ladies - I will see you tomorrow morning," I nodded, turned and left.

"She said 'yes', didn't she?" Desiree gleefully declared when I got back in the car. She actually seemed amused.

"You knew she would," my eyes bugged out.

"That's right, oh Swami of the Female Psyche," she drove away.

"I hate you," I groaned.

"Welcome to my world," she actually appeared happy. My day wasn't over either. We ran a few more jobs in the cue before quitting time. The second I had exited Katrina's office with my bike clothes, Buffy was on me.

She looked like she'd just learned her jaguar incisor was actually from an ocelot.

"You kissed Elsa," she hissed. Usually I have sex with a girl then one of her closest friends before they are this angry with me.

"No, I did not," I insisted. "She jumped me."

"You grabbed her ass," Buffy bore down on me. Sure, I was bigger, stronger and could kick her ass in weaponless combat. What mattered was that she had the look of a woman who wouldn't be satisfied until my gonads were in a leather pouch around her neck. Normally I earn this look. I resent it being taken as a freebie.

"That I confess to," I sighed.

"Why?" she snapped. The new hires were hanging around at a safe distance.

"I hate giving a lame erotic encounter," I explained. "If a girl kisses me, I feel it is only appropriate that I make her feel good, too."

"I hate you," she growled.

"You, Desiree and Elsa," I shrugged. "I'm getting used to it around here."

"What are you doing this weekend?" Buffy was growing impatient.

"I already have four dates lined up," I said. The three kids plus Nikita.

"I hate you," Buffy snapped. We were on the elevator now. The new hires rushed in before the door closed. I hoped that would buy me some room. I'm an idiot.

"I think we've already discussed that," I tried to joke. Buffy shoved me into a corner then backed into me, warding off the other women.

Buffy was in real tight pants, had a wonderful body and I hadn't been laid since this morning. I'm not made of stone. I'm not even made of good quality drywall. My hand didn't ask my brain if it was a good idea, or not. Of its own accord, it began rubbing her ass. When groping somebody, if they are going to react in the negative, it will happen in the first second.

They will move away, yell at you, slap you, or all of the above. Opening your legs and pressing against the groper is the opposite of saying 'no'. Our position masked what I was doing from most of the new hires. Tigger was actually leaning against the wall close by and noticed my arm motion. She shot me a curious look. I shrugged to show my confusion.

"I am going to have to tattoo my name on your forehead," Buffy growled - to both me and Tigger. When the doors opened, I began to slip past the resisting Buffy. "80 days, Bastard," she sizzled.

"Someone needs to remind Buffy of her place," Fabiola remarked a bit too loud.

"My place is riding Cáel until dawn's early light," Buffy snarled. "You don't need to worry. A reminder won't be necessary."

"That's not what I..." Fabiola turned on Buffy. Buffy didn't need the headache of explaining why she shoved Fabiola through one of the glass panels at the front of the building.

"Buffy," I turned on the brunette. I pushed her hair off her shoulders before cupping her ears. My thumbs ran over the front rims while my pinkie tickled the earlobes on both sides. "I'd really like it if you were the first Havenstone lady I am with. I'm looking forward to it, in fact."

Buffy pressed her body against mine, inhaled my scent deeply and moaned.

"Buffy, perhaps you should seek out another male in the intervening 80 days," Violet suggested.

"I did. He tried to run away. When I caught him, he curled up in a ball and cried. After that, I wasn't in the mood anymore," Buffy related.

"That's because you don't know how to make a man behave," Fabiola sneered.

I got guilty, worried looks all around.

"Crap Fabiola, were you born stupid, or have you grown senile in your two short decades?" Dora sighed.

"It isn't like any of them are going to make it the full 84," Fabiola responded snootily then stormed off. Another awkward moment.

"Idiocy is neither age nor gender specific. Look at Buffy, she's a fifty year old man dressed up like a woman and she can babble just as incoherently as Fabiola," I joked as I readied my bike.

"That is something else you are going to have to pay for," Buffy growled.

"Usually I get a whole lot more pleasure before this level of suffering begins," I muttered as I pedaled away.

I deviated from my normal path so I could pick up a few specialty items. Nikita called, confirming our date for Friday night. I said I'd be ready. She made the off-handed comment that I didn't need to worry how I dressed. She wasn't ashamed to be seen with me if I was wearing my bike clothes. Ah-huh.

I suggested that it might be easier if I wore a G-string and painted the rest of my clothes on. Laughing, she told me that was Date 3 material. We said our good-byes. The rest of the trip home was uneventful. At my door I found an emotional Rhada. Not the 'rip out your eyes and feed them to you' I'd come to know, love and fear, but a truly distraught woman.

I ushered her inside. While dealing with some domestic stuff, Rhada went to my bedroom. I followed as soon as possible. She wasn't 'playful' so I didn't play.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I sat beside her and put my arm around her shoulder. She stiffened initially then wrapped me in her own arms and hugged me tight.

"I'm going back home tonight and I won't be back for a month," she sobbed.

"Great," I shouted. Rhada looked at me, mortally wounded and angry. "Think of all the great things I can come up with after a whole month to prepare. Oh...you are going to suffer so much when you come back. I'm going to eat it up while you scream."

Blink...blink. "What makes you think I'll come back here?" she tried to be challenging. She came off more needy/pleading.

"Good idea," I nodded. "It will be much more fun if I have to hunt you down. We can do that Night One," I decided. "Rape you right out in the open for anyone to see."

Rhada's breathing picked up and she squeezed me tighter.

"See those boxes?" Rhada took a peek. "Those are the suspension gear so I can hang you from the ceiling. They came in today. I'm going to suspend you about waist height over the bed, apply clamps with weights to your labia and nipples then fuck you up both holes, alternating with a dildo for the hole I'm not using."

"I imagine the pull of those weights swinging around as I screw you is going to be excruciating," I mused. "What do you think?"