Remote Work Pt. 01

Jerry was 23 years old, and at all of 5' 2-1/2" tall and 115 lbs, not an imposing figure by any stretch of the imagination. He had pale skin from years of indoor activities that centered around computers and games, black hair with dark eyes to match. He kept his hair fairly long to cover his ears, which stuck out. Not considered an attractive fellow, he had pockmarked skin from a several years bout with acne problems in freshman and sophomore high school.

He was a product of the system, born to a middle aged prostitute in jail for assault who died during childbirth. He was never adopted due to a slew of infant and childhood ailments, all of which he overcame. Because of this, his entire childhood was in foster care. A few good homes, but mostly bad. Having always been small in stature, even compared to girls his age, and never really being "part of the group," so to speak, because of constantly being bounced from one foster home to another, he was always treated like a secondary thought by the adults, and tormented relentlessly by most of the other children. School was no different, not even college. Jerry learned to be as invisible as possible. With no social life to speak of, he worked and he studied. He saved money and he became pretty adept at both hardware and software in computers. Holding down part-time jobs and devoting all his free time to computers, he managed to complete high school by 16, and college just a few months after his 19th birthday. Ultimately completing a bachelor's degree in computer science.

After college, Jerry found a job at a fairly large company that did server installations along with operations and maintenance. His talents allowed him to quickly find a position that allowed him to work from home troubleshooting problems. He was so good at what he did that he was able to negotiate a decent salary, enough to finance a small house in a rural area, about 45 minutes outside the city. It was a nice little 1000 square foot, two bed, one bath home on 10 acres of densely wooded land. Even though the driveway was 300' of gravel road that made a turn to get to the house so the home couldn't be seen from the road, there were no houses to see from the mailbox at the end of the driveway, the nearest home being nearly 2 miles from his in one direction, and a two lane state highway lay 3 miles on the the twisty country road in the other direction without a house on it. As rural as it was, he was only a few miles from a cell tower and had great internet so he could do his job. The home had a partially finished full basement with a corner shower with just a drain on the concrete floor. Next to it was a sink and toilet along with the washer and dryer. About half of it was carpeted and there was still a cable run where the previous owner had a TV for a second living room. The entire basement was free span for all but a single support pole in the middle of the room, not a single wall, not even around the toilet and shower.

Jerry turned the basement into his home office/living room. He practically lived down there, coming up only to bathe. He had a full size refrigerator and a microwave. And since he lived on sodas and microwavable foods, he didn't really ever have much use for dishes or a need for the upstairs kitchen. He'd gotten to where he wasn't even comfortable upstairs, so he stayed in the basement, on his computer working, watching movies, or playing Xbox. It's where he felt most comfortable. He even quit sleeping in the bedroom upstairs in favor of the couch in the basement. Safe from the assholes of the outside world. The automatic front gate at the end of the drive was controlled from his computer, as were the security camera, speaker, and microphone mounted on a pedestal next to the gate. There were cameras and microphones both outside and inside the house, everywhere but the nervecenter, his basement. It was the first place in his life that he felt safe, truly safe.

Sandy had finally made it to department head. She had been picked to take over the maintenance department, the most lucrative department in the company. Staffed by the IT guys who keep all the software and hardware on the servers happy, they get paid well to do it and the company charges a lot for the service. With salaries being the only real overhead in the department for the most part, as hardware failures were rare, the department had the highest profit margin in the company. It was a coveted position, and she knew she deserved it, just like the owner did. One of the first things she intended to do was find out who the top performers were based on time spent to solve issues and who took the longest, giving her an idea of who was most useful and who was dead weight. Jerry's name popped up at the top of her list, the second name on her list was a distant second based on her criteria. Not only that, but he constituted 12% of all problems solved in a department with 42 technicians.

She was impressed by the numbers and wanted to meet the brilliant man, hoping he was as physically attractive as he was proficient at troubleshooting complex computer issues. She liked smart men and seldom met men she felt were on par with her. He might be, she thought to herself, and he might be cute too. She logged onto her computer in her new office and pulled up his personal file. He had no photo, no emergency contact, no work history, just an education history, and he was hired at 19. How do you get hired at 19 with a bachelor's degree? He was also the only technician working on a negotiated salary, all the other techs were hourly, but not this guy. Who was this mysterious man, she had to know. After asking around about him she found out that he had not been to the office in over three years.

After contemplating it for a bit, she decided to send him an email and ask him to come in so she could meet him under the pretext that as the new department head, she wanted to meet and get a feel for all the people in her team. It was bullshit, but if he never came in anyway, how would he know, and this would let her meet the mystery man. The email simply asked that he be in her office at 3 on Friday, so that if things went well, maybe Friday night would be fun and interesting.

Jerry read the email and groaned. "Fucking management," he mumbled to himself. Why couldn't they just leave him alone. He knew it would be easier if he just went. Small price to pay for the job he had, he thought to himself. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy a lot of freedom for a very comfortable salary. "Friday it is then," he said as he moved on to the next email.

Friday came. He requested an Uber and headed out to meet it when it was close. He hated being late, it just draws unwanted attention. He arrived about 10 minutes before the requested time and announced his arrival to Sandy's assistant. She asked him to have a seat as she picked up the phone on her desk, hit a button and spoke into the handset, "Your three o'clock is here," she paused and smiled at him, "yes ma'am," she said and hung the phone up.

"You can go in," she said and motioned to the door.

He stood back up and headed through the door. As he walked into the fairly large office, he saw Sandy standing at the corner of her desk. She was tall, much taller than him, and in heels. She was wearing a black knee length skirt and a loose white blouse. She had an athletic build, her breasts were about a B cup, her waist fairly thin, wide hips and toned calves. Her eyes were a dark brown and her hair was straight and dark brown, pulled into a ponytail high on the back of her head. She was probably a decade older than him, but very attractive, and with those heels, easily 6'.

Sandy was a far cry from the 68 year old Robert Parsons who had just retired, opening the position. Sandy was a woman you didn't want to take your eyes off of, and Jerry couldn't, she was beautiful.

"You must be Jerry," she smiled, "I'm Sandy, please sit," she gestured to the chair in front of her desk as she turned and walked back around the desk to her own high back office chair. He watched her ass as she made her way back around the desk. Her smile was odd, nothing outright, but he could feel her, what, disappointment maybe? He figured it was him, and he was right. Sandy wasn't sure what to expect, but this little long haired man in a black tee shirt and hoody certainly wasn't it.

"Oh well," she thought to herself, and decided to go ahead and run through this and make it look as real as possible.

"So I just have a few questions for you. It looks like you don't have an emergency contact. Do you not have anybody? Nobody you live with, a relative, girlfriend, no one," she asked.

"No, nobody I want to put on there. I'm an orphan raised in foster homes. There's nobody to call," he said flatly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I just like having a point of contact for people, sometimes just to check up on them when they're sick or whatever, but that's fine, I understand," she smiled at him, seeming almost bubbly. Sandy had a way of always coming off like that, until she turned the bitch on, and even that was usually delivered with a smile.

"Is this your first job? I see you have no work experience on your resume and you were hired at 19, with a bachelor's degree? Can you tell me about that," she asked, looking truly interested.

"Is this a job interview," he asked, looking a little perturbed. He figured her to be a popular girl when she'd been in school, some kind of team sport he figured, exactly the ilk of people that gave him the hardest time in school, and he was still carrying that anger. He didn't want to like this woman, but she was being nice to him, and it felt genuine. He almost felt bad for the snarky remark about the job interview, almost.

"No, I was just curious about you. You have a stellar record here in the department so I took a look at your records and wanted to know more. You are a member of my team here and I want to know about you so I can help you do your job. That's my job," she said as she locked his eyes. She was still wearing a smile, but the authority came through clearly. He couldn't keep her gaze and almost visibly shrank. She almost scoffed at his reaction. She had mastered the bubbly bitch attitude years ago and she was used to those under her cringing and squirming uncomfortably when she got the bitch out, but she hadn't even been that harsh. He looked like she had just slapped him.

She knew he would be easy to dominate if she wanted to. She had gotten into light BDSM with a boyfriend in college. She really took to the role of the dominant female. She relished the control and power. She felt the experiences helped her in her day to day life, especially at work, where knowing when and how to stress authority is critical to keeping people in line. She knew Jerry better than Jerry knew Jerry. He was young too, and she was betting he was a virgin, she sure didn't want to fuck him and couldn't imagine anybody else wanting to either. Long, greasy looking hair, nose too big for his face, pointy chin, and so small.

"Right, yeah, I know, sorry," his words grew softer as he spoke, not looking back up at her.

"I'm sorry Jerry, what was that," she asked, again with a bubbly attitude and a lovely smile, but a tone that made it clear she wouldn't be tested. She was loving the way he squirmed in his chair, obviously ready to run. Her mind was already running through the things she could make him do. She knew he would do it and beg for more.

"I'm sorry, you're right. It's your job to help me do my job as efficiently as possible." There was no mumbling this time and his voice was clear, although a little shaky. He raised his head and turned his face back to her as he spoke, and he even sat up straight, but never managed to make eye contact with her again, his eyes wandering around to items on her desk as he spoke.

Her smile turned to a broad grin as she thought about him in a gimp suit. She stood up and began to walk back around the desk to where he sat, he tensed as she came nearer to him. She wanted to laugh and ridicule the way he squirmed in obvious discomfort. She moved right next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Her perfume wafted over him, she smelled so good. He turned his head to her but looked at her feet. She wore a pattan black 4" stiletto with an open toe.

That's right you little perv, stare at my feet, she thought as she tried not to openly laugh at him.

"We just want to make sure you're happy and have everything you need from us," she spoke down to the top of his head.

"I do, I do. Everything is great. I'm very happy with the current arrangement," he shot out rapidly.

"Well, ok then. I guess you can go back to being the super awesome remote worker you are," she giggled.

"Thank you," was all he said as he sprang from the chair and almost bolted for the door. The door was open and he was just starting to step through it when he heard her.

"Jerry," he froze, "I'll be in touch again soon," she said in the most bubbly way, but it felt like a threat. He felt butterflies in his stomach, the bad kind, the "I'm about to get my ass kicked" kind he had when the bullies got him in school. The bully jocks with girlfriends like her. He knew her, and he hated her, but God she was pretty. They were always pretty though, weren't they?

Sandy opened her laptop, pulled his records back up, and searched for his address. She smiled when she saw how remote his home was. Sandy picked up the phone on her desk and dialed an extension. A moment later a woman's voice answered, "Human resources, Beverly speaking, how can I help you," asked the voice on the other end.

"Hey Bev, Sandy, you're busy tonight. Dress to wrestle, there may be resistance," she didn't wait for a reply and just hung the phone up. Beverly was an angry woman who liked to fight. She was an obese, man hater fresh out of an abusive relationship when Sandy had met her some 6 years ago.

Sandy had picked up on Beverly's attraction to her right away and used it to manipulate Beverly. Eventually making her an ass kissing slave. She trained her physically and mentally, manipulating her into better eating and exercise routines. Sandy had a thing for making people want her so badly, that they would change themselves for her, anything to please her, and at 38, Beverly was in better shape than she had been in her college days. When Sandy threatened to ignore her if she didn't get in shape, Beverly decided she would learn mixed martial arts, so she could get rid of some of her anger and get in shape at the same time. After nearly 6 years of regular training and sparring, Beverly was a force. Sandy knew she would be perfect if the greasy little fucker tried to get physical before he accepted his place.

Jerry requested an Uber and cursed himself for not knowing how to drive and having a car. He wanted to run away as fast as possible. He was angry. Angry at himself for being such a pussy and angry at himself for wanting her. She was teasing him and he knew it.

As soon as he was back in his basement, he went straight to the computer and looked up his favorite porn but he didn't even really look at it. All he could think of was Sandy. The way she smelled. The way she walked. He satisfied himself a few times and then resumed his usual routines around the house.

That night he was doing his usual gaming and monitoring his company email. It was about a quarter to eleven when the gate bell rang.

"Who the fuck is this," he mumbled to himself. Nobody ever comes to his house, let alone at night, on a weekend. Somebody lost, or needing help or something. He sat down at the computer and opened the security app to see who was ringing the bell. His jaw hit the floor when the camera came onto the screen. It was Sandy, and she wasn't alone.

"Hellooo" she said to the stainless steel pedestal with a camera in it as she pushed the ringer button again. "Jeeerryyyy," she called out loudly in her bubbly way with a huge grin on her face.

"Stop pushing the button. That's the ringer. It just rings a bell in the house. You don't have to push a button to talk to me. How can I help you Sandy," he asked over the speaker.

"Let me in, Jerry, I want to talk to you." A woman chuckled in the background. He could see a figure in the car behind Sandy, but couldn't make out what she looked like.

He was afraid. This felt all kinds of wrong. He had been lied to, manipulated, used and abused by girls before who pretended to be nice to get what they wanted from him, knowing he would be easy, then casting him aside like trash when they had what they wanted, some even going out of their way to rub it in his face that they had used him. But she was his boss.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He mumbled to himself before speaking. "We are talking, it's late. What do you need," he asked.

She was sitting in her car with her arm out the window on the ringer button. She brought her arm back in and leaned her face out the window closer to the camera. He could feel her gaze. Her expression was suddenly cold.

"I need to talk to you. Open the gate and let me in, Jerry," she said firmly. The bubbly was gone, the tone was threatening.

His mind raced, his heart began to pound. I don't want to, I don't want to, I don't want to, was screaming in his head as he moved the cursor over the icon that controlled the gate at the end of his driveway, and clicked it. He was in his boxers so he scrambled around and got some clothes on before heading up the stairs. The top half of the front door was paned glass and he could see from the front porch light that she was already out of the car and headed to the front door.

She was still wearing the same clothes she had early today, but the other woman wore what looked like a sports bra, spandex shorts, and flip flops. She had pale freckled skin and red hair, the kind that's almost orange. Her large breasts bounced to and fro, too large to be held in place by her tight top, and her wide hips swayed as she trotted to the porch. She wasn't fat, and looked quite fit, but thick, her bright red hair in a French braid.

"Open the door Jerry, it's cold," Sandy demanded as she walked to the door. Even though it was obviously a demand, it sounded somehow nice.

His mind was screaming no as his hand unlocked the door. He stopped after unlocking it, suddenly frozen in panic. He watched as she closed the final distance across his small porch and reached the door. She stopped and they just looked at each other for a moment. She then opened the door and he stepped back as she did. As she came through the door she came right up to him and moved his hair out of his face with her middle finger and tucked it behind his ear as she smoothly traced her index finger back down his jawline to his chin, which she cupped in her palm and lifted his face to look at her.

"Hey there little man, living all alone in the woods," she chuckled as she laid her hand gently on his cheek. The smell of alcohol and perfume hit him. The other woman just walked by them both and started looking through the rooms of his house, like she was scouting the place out.

"What are you doing here," he asked looking up at her. At 5' 9", she would have already towered over him, but with the 4" heels she was wearing, her tits were at his eye level.

"Welfare check," she said enthusiastically with a huge grin. "Gotta see how you're living out here in the woods. Make sure you've got everything you need, Jerry. You know, doing my job," she giggled. "Show me around. Let's see your work station."

He looked like he was about to piss his pants, he couldn't even keep his feet still. It was obvious he wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Goddess, check this out," the other woman called to Sandy. "Basement."

"Well, let's go check that out. Is that where you live? Are you a basement dweller, Jerry," she giggled mockingly and the other woman laughed.