The Thief in the Corner Office - Pt. 01

The Thief in the Corner Office - Pt 1

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There was nothing unusual about the theft of Bill Haldeman's invention. Big corporations regularly reverse-engineer the work of independent inventors and steal it. Things changed when Haldeman found a way to fight back. In Part One of this 10-part story, Haldeman recovers what was taken - then gets a lot more.

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"Good morning, sir. My name is Bill Haldeman, and I'm from the White House. It's urgent that I speak to Alice Waresmith, your chief executive officer. It's a matter of national security. Please arrange for me to see her immediately."

The young man behind the reception counter gave me a wide-eyed look. "Do you have any identification?" he asked.

"Here it is," I said, showing him my driver's license. "This is my White House identification card." It was no such thing, of course, but the young man accepted my statement without hesitation. "I'll call Ms. Waresmith's office and tell them you're coming."

"Don't do that," I said. "This is a top-secret meeting. Instead, have a member of your security staff escort me upstairs." The receptionist did not recognize that what I said had to be a load of bullshit, so he called a security guard and instructed him to take me to Waresmith's corner office suite on the top floor of the building.

By now you must be wondering what the hell is going on. It's kind of complicated, but I have no connection to the White House, and there was no truth to my claim that I was visiting the headquarters of Scient Analytica Corp. for reasons of national security. I just needed to have a face-to-face meeting with the bitch who runs the company so I can get my revenge on her for stealing my patented invention.

Ordinarily, there was no way anyone could walk into the corporate offices and expect to see the CEO of a big company like Scient, but I was not an ordinary guy. I possessed a cool little piece of technology I'd just invented. It is a mind-control device. I know that's an unbelievable claim. I'll explain later.

For now, just trust me when I say the young receptionist believed every crazy claim I made. He summoned a security guard and told him, "It's urgent that you escort Mr. Haldeman to Ms. Waresmith's office immediately. He's from the White House."

And that was all it took to begin my campaign to make Alice Waresmith regret her decision to steal my work. I felt pretty smug during the long elevator ride to the top of Scient's high-rise office building. I'd crafted a step-by-step plan to transform the CEO of this multi-billion dollar global corporation into a stooge who'd do anything I wanted.

I was going to make a lot of money, and it was going to be loads of fun.

"Who did you say you are?" Waresmith asked when I was escorted into her office. As you'd expect, it was palatial. Located in the corner office on the top floor, the windows provided a stunning view of the bay region, with the Golden Gate Bridge visible in one direction, and the tall buildings of San Francisco in the other.

In the middle of the office was the mighty Waresmith herself, sitting behind a massive desk that probably destroyed at least an acre of old-growth hardwood. In the popular media, Waresmith is nicknamed "War Horse" because she is so powerful and so fond of launching attacks against her victims. Like me.

"My name is Bill Haldeman, ma'am. I'm the director of the White House office of advanced strategic technology." After I shook her hand I aimed the speakers of my cellphone directly toward her so she'd hear the high-frequency sound waves that removed her ability to resist my suggestions. The sound didn't affect me because I wore earplugs that blocked high frequencies while allowing me to hear the middle frequencies of conversation.

Very quickly I saw her facial expression go slack, indicating that I had gained control of her mind. Everything was working perfectly.

"What can we do for you here at Scient, Mr. Haldeman?" she said. Her voice was unnaturally neutral, another indication that my mind-control device was working.

"The president has asked me to inform you of a top-secret project," I said. "Your company can play a vital role in advancing the national interest."

"We'll be happy to serve the nation any way we can," she said.

"I knew we could count on your cooperation," I said, barely able to keep myself from laughing. I took a few seconds to look at Waresmith and admire her. I imagine that most of you have seen her on the covers of Forbes, Businessweek, and The Economist, so you know that she's an unusually beautiful woman.

She was wearing a designer suit that made her look powerful, and also showed she had the face and body of a supermodel - a fact she never failed to prominently display. You've probably read that she believes people underestimate her because they don't expect such a beautiful woman to be so ruthless and predatory.

It has been reported that she works out daily with an athletic trainer, that her meals are prepared by a personal chef who specializes in healthful cooking, and that she's availed herself of a wide range of cosmetic procedures ranging from botox and liposuction to rhinoplasty, orthodontia, lip plumping, and breast implants.

From my perspective, she'd done everything she could to enhance her natural beauty. If her goal was to make herself look like a goddess, she'd succeeded. Of course, it's well-known that Waresmith succeeds at everything she attempts. It's one of the reasons the Wall Street Journal calls her "the most effective female CEO in the world." She has never hesitated to destroy anyone who stands in her way. The list of her victims is long.

My name is the most recent addition to that list.

I realize that this story must be getting confusing. You must be wondering why I went to so much trouble to get face-to-face with one of the most predatory corporate sharks in Silicon Valley. I'll try to explain as concisely as possible.

I didn't pick a fight with Waresmith or her company. She came after me. I am an independent inventor; I don't work for a big corporation with a bunch of patent lawyers to defend my work. I have multiple degrees in science and engineering, and I've created several innovative advances that earned me 17 patents and some very nice profits. Like everybody else in Silicon Valley, my dream is to come up with an idea good enough to make me a billionaire and disrupt industries. I want to be like Jeff Bezos, Bill Gates, and Elon Musk.

The good news is that I thought I'd finally done it. I wrote a computing algorithm that analyses financial markets and uses artificial intelligence to look for smart opportunities to buy and sell. It works so well that a group of venture capitalists gave me the funding to create a start-up that was intended to commercialize my product.

There was just one problem: Alice Waresmith at Scient Analytica. When my patent was issued, it was like ringing a dinner bell for all the dishonest predators in the tech industry. Waresmith had her people reverse-engineered my invention. With her deep pockets, she was able to get to market faster than me, destroying any chance for me to profit from my work.

All that was illegal, of course. Patents are supposed to protect inventors like me, and sometimes they do, but the reality of the legal system is that it is riddled with loopholes and exceptions that let big players prolong and delay patent infringement lawsuits for years. My attorney said there was no chance I'd ever collect a reasonable judgment, and he recommended that I just give up and sell my patent to Waresmith for a fraction of its actual worth.

That's not what I did. At the same time all this was happening, I was working on an idea I had for a new medical device intended to help addicts overcome chemical dependency. I discovered that exposing people to certain high-frequency sound waves made it possible to give them suggestions they are virtually powerless to resist. It's like hypnosis on steroids.

I decided to use it on Waresmith to force her to give me the money and credit I deserve. I haven't done enough testing to verify that it's safe, so Waresmith would be my guinea pig. Since I was not particularly fond of her, the fact that my tech might be dangerous was a feature, not a flaw.

And that's the story. As you've seen, my tech is remarkably effective at making people do things they wouldn't do on their own. I used it to bluff my way into her office, then made her believe the preposterous story that I was some bigshot from the White House on a top-secret mission to protect national security in some mysterious way I never bothered to explain.

Watch and learn.

"Ms. Warsmith, the president was very glad when he learned that your corporation is commercializing a technology we consider to be vital to American interests. I'm sure you are familiar with the work your people are doing with a new algorithm that analyzes financial markets."

"Yes!" she said. "That tech has great potential!" she said.

"It certainly does," I said. "What I'm about to say is top secret. You can never repeat it to anyone. That tech belongs to the federal government. We paid for the research and development that created it. You agree that your staff did nothing but reverse engineer this invention, correct?"

"Of course!" she said. "We do that all the time! When I became CEO I began looking for ways to identify promising innovations created by independent inventors, then steal their work. It has been very profitable, and I expect we will make big profits from this new algorithm."

"Precisely," I said. "And I can guarantee that Scient Analytica will earn higher profits than you ever expected. But the government needs you to execute this roll-out in a specific way, and part of what we require is that you give credit to the actual inventor and agree to pay royalties on the patent. You want to help your country, don't you?"

"Of course I do!" she said. "I'll do whatever you ask!"

"I knew you would see things our way," I said. "I have a document for you to sign."

I handed Waresmith two copies of a contract she would never forget. By signing, Waresmith admitted stealing my patent, and she agreed to pay steep royalties that were much bigger than I would have requested if she'd simply treated me fairly. When her board of directors learned about this, Waresmith would face a reckoning unlike anything in her career.

"My legal department always reviews all contracts I sign," she said.

"Of course," I said. "That's why one of our representatives met with them earlier. They reviewed our proposed contract, then made a few changes. This is the contract they recommend you sign." I could barely keep myself from laughing. This was the most prosperous thing I'd told her so far, and she believed it.

"Good!" she said. "That saves a lot of time!" Waresmith had her assistant find two people to witness the signing, then summoned the office notary to notarize the contract. And with that, I was finished. I had a signed, witnessed, notarized contract that agreed to pay me huge royalties for an invention Waresmith acknowledged was mine.

Just for fun, I asked Waresmith's assistant to take a photo of me and her boss standing there holding copies of what I described as a "historic agreement between the government and Scient Analytica." I planned to have an enlargement made so I could hang it on the wall at home.

It was time for me to leave. Waresmith would face humiliating consequences in the weeks ahead as her board became aware of the full extent of what she'd done. She was fucked. The woman called "the most effective female CEO in the world" would face justice for her years of destroying innocent people and ripping off inventors like me.

I took some time to savor the moment, looking over at Waresmith as she smiled happily, clueless about what she'd just done. What I saw just emphasized the fact that she is a remarkably beautiful, sexy woman. She looks even more striking in person than she does on the cover of magazines.

Perhaps it was inevitable that I began thinking it would be fun to continue. I'd already fucked Waresmith figuratively. Why not fuck her literally?

"Before I leave, there's one other thing I'd like to discuss. Privately," I said.

"Of course, Mr. Haldeman," she said, directing her staff to leave her office and close the door.

"I think it's wise if I address the elephant in the room," I said. "Alice, you are powerfully attracted to me, aren't you?"

"I am powerfully attracted to you," she said.

"I feel the same way about you," I said. "You're glad that I think you're attractive, aren't you?"

"I am glad you think I'm attractive," she said.

"Come over here," I said. "Sit in my lap."

She rose from her chair, walked around her desk, and smiled seductively as she lowered herself onto my lap. I took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of what had to be an incredibly expensive perfume.

"Kiss me," I said. She leaned forward and planted a sweet, friendly kiss on my lips. I wanted more.

"Not like that," I said. "Kiss me. Really kiss me."

What happened next surprised even me. She kissed me as passionately as I've ever been kissed. The tip of her tongue gently caressed my lips and went deeper. One of her hands reached around to the back of my head and pulled me closer. The kiss went on, and on, and by the time I pulled away, she was panting with arousal.

I was prepared to bend her over her desk and ravage her, but I thought we might be able to do better than that. "Is there a place where we can be more comfortable?" I asked.

She gave me a wicked smile. "Follow me," she said, leading me to a door behind her desk. It opened into a small meeting room with several chairs and a sofa big enough to lie down and nap.

"Does this look any better?" she asked as she sat down. I loved imagining what was about to happen. I am going to fuck the most cold-hearted bitch in Silicon Valley! I thought to myself. I am turning the almighty Alice Waresmith into my personal fucktoy! It wasn't something I'd planned to do when I walked in the door of Scient Analytica that morning, but my command of Waresmith's mind was so powerful that I could not resist.

"Take off your clothes," I said, leaning back on the sofa so I could enjoy the show. She smiled sweetly as she removed her jacket, blouse, and bra. She had to stand up to remove her skirt, revealing that she was wearing an old-fashioned garter belt and black nylons. "Get rid of the panties, but keep the garter belt and hose. I like them," I said.

Like an obedient little bitch, Waresmith stripped down until she wore only the garter belt, nylons, and high-heeled shoes. Her body was flawless. All those years of exercise, diet, and cosmetic procedures had enhanced her natural beauty so much that it was hard to believe that such a beautiful woman was real. But she was real - very real - and she was anxious to give me any kind of sex I wanted.

Since I could get her to believe anything I said, I decided to fuck with her mind before I fucked her body.

"Alice, I need to warn you about something. It's not a problem, but it's something I want you to know in advance."

"What?" she asked.

"I have a very large penis," I said. "I am bigger than most of the actors who perform in porn videos. When I remove my pants, you'll see that it is very, very big, so I want you to be prepared."

"You want me to be prepared," she said.

Honestly, I wasn't completely certain what would happen after I took off my pants. I hoped that she would look at my average-sized cock and imagine it to be much bigger. But I'd never tried anything like this before, so the only way to find out was to try it.

"Help me take off my pants," I said, standing in front of her. She unbuckled my belt, unzipped my fly, then lowered my pants and boxers to my ankles. "Jesus, Joseph, and Mary!" she said, looking at my cock with a wide-eyed expression. "That cock is huge! I'm not sure something that big will fit!"

"I'm sure it will be fine," I said, caressing her cheek and trying to reassure her. "It will take a little work, but you will be able to take it. You'll see."

I had mixed feelings about what was about to happen. Part of me wanted to do every dirty thing I could. I wanted to spank her ass, fuck all her holes, cum on her face, and make her beg for more. But I felt a bit nervous about having sex in the corner office of such a big, powerful corporation. I wasn't sure what would happen if we were caught, and I didn't want to find out.

It seemed safer to have a quickie.

I stretched out on my back and told her to get on top of me cowgirl style. I particularly like that position because I just love watching when a naked woman rides up and down on my dick. I love being able to reach up and touch everywhere from her breasts to her butt, and I love letting the woman be in charge of making us both climax.

She rubbed her pussy against my dick, making us both nice and wet. I put the tip at her entrance and began to slip inside. She was tight, but no tighter than I expected. It was amusing when Alice acted as though it was almost impossible to get me inside her. She squeezed her eyes shut, gritted her teeth, and whimpered in pain.

"It hurts! It's too big!" she said.

"It will be fine in a minute. Try to relax, and it will feel good," I said. She grunted and struggled to work me deeper into her pussy. I didn't feel anything unusual, but Alice acted as though she could barely get me inside her. I enjoyed watching as she "struggled" because, despite the expressions of stress and strain on her face, it was obvious that she loved what was happening.

After she worked my cock about halfway inside her, I decided she'd struggled enough. "That feels better now, doesn't it? It doesn't hurt at all, right?"

"It doesn't hurt at all," she said.

"Make me cum," I told her. "Make my cock feel good. When you feel my cock throb inside you, it will make you climax better than you ever have before. You can do that, can't you?"

"I can make you cum," she said.

And she certainly tried. She began slaving away on top of me, giving my cock an extremely good workout as she did her very best to coax an orgasm out of me. Ordinarily, I'd try to prolong an experience like this, but the fear of being caught made me decide not to resist Alice's efforts. I enjoyed watching her thrash around as I waited to cum.

I didn't wait long. It wasn't the best climax I ever had, but I was thrilled to cum inside such a powerful woman who'd victimized me so badly. As I began shooting my seed into her pussy, it triggered a massive orgasm in Alice.

"Aaiiiiiieeeeeeeeee!!!!!" she shrieked. I'd ordered her to have the biggest climax of her life, and somehow I hadn't realized that she was likely to scream loud enough to be heard by people all over the building. Hell, they probably heard her in Oakland! I realized that Alice's assistant sat just outside the door to her office, so she had to know what I was doing to her boss.

Alice fell forward and landed on my chest. She was limp from exhaustion. She was all fucked out.

"Get up, Alice. We need to get dressed," I said. I helped her get on her feet, then pulled my clothes on as quickly as I could. Alice acted so lethargic that she struggled to get dressed, so I helped put her back together.

When she was finished she plopped down into a chair, looking exhausted. Her outfit looked fine, but her hair and make-up were a mess. I fetched her purse to told her to make herself presentable.

"That was wonderful, Alice. Just wonderful. I have feelings for you. You have feelings for me, don't you?"

"I have feelings for you," she said.