Susan's Sales Meeting

All true that noble wife bit, at least until I sort all this shit out. I opened the door to the room guiding her in, and turned back to the crowd and called out:

"Somebody call the police! That fool and my wife have been assaulted and may be injured!"

They were still as ghosts.

"You heard me! MOVE!"

It was the desk clerk who answered 'yes sir!' and picked up the phone.

Funny the stuff you remember. Her sex partner was ugly, at least to my eye, but his fingers and toenails were professionally polished. Susan broke through my thoughts.

"Chris I'm sorry, he made me...Oh god I'm really sorry"

"Get dressed in clean cloths; don't wash yourself or anything else. Come on..."

She was still in shock

"Move! Do it! NOW!"

"We're going to have police for company in a few minutes whether we like it or not"

She jumped like I'd hit her. I gathered up the pudgy asshole's clothes, opened the window, and checked all of his pockets as I threw his shit out into the wind... sox, pants, piece by piece. I slipped all of his keys off the ring, and flung them one by one in different directions as far as I could. There happened to be a pickup truck parked right under the window, and with great care, and some luck, I tossed his car key into the truck bed. Black key on a black plastic bed liner...they'd never fine it.

Same with his wallet, I dumped the contents on the table. I got out my Leatherman® tool and sliced and diced the lot, scattering the bits into the wind. One after the other, they disappeared into the storm. I sliced his shoes with the knife and tossed them as well. One of them landed on a ledge the other in a bush. I took a deep breath, and called 911 and reported an assault and possible rape, with an injured man. I gave them my name, room number, and the location of the motel.

Wifey was just dressed when there was a knock at the door.

I opened it to a guy in an Armani shirt, and $400 loafers.

"Are you the police?"

Ah, No. I'm Harald Abrmsen, Great Gherkins President, may I come in?"

"Are you responsible for the actions of the chap on the stairs?"

"He is my employee..."

"Let me repeat my question; are you fully and financially responsible for his actions?"

"Why, no, but...I'm an officer with..."

"Well Boss Swede, right now it's an officer with the police I want, so this has nothing to do with you."

With that, I shut the door in his face and turned to the woman who in the future I probably would refer to as my first wife.

"Now love, in the five minutes or so we have before the police arrive, how did you get to this point?"

"I wish you hadn't called the police, now everybody will know what happened. "

"Jesus H. Christ, women you work with knew he was in here and tried to stop me from coming to your room! A few moments ago, I dragged a groaning...screaming....naked man from your cunt, who was clutching his balls, bleeding profusely from the nose and face into the hall. YOU were there equally naked, chasing him down the stairs kicking and shrieking invectives at him. You ripped off his hairpiece like a trophy and scaled it to your coworkers as a remembrance of the event. They had and were taking pictures and video on their cell phones the whole god damn time! Witnesses up the ass... probably uploading to U tube as we speak.

"Chris, I'm so scared! He was...this was the third time he forced me to...to...It was horrible. God! I'm so...so sorry."

Let's skip to his name, his title, and how it happened that 'He made you do it.' That's the important bit right now."

"Helmut Eriksson, he's Assistant Managing Director. He's not Swedish; he's a Dane...he's the one who was claiming credit for my work! I hate the son of a bitch! I hate him!"

"You hate him, but you peacefully fucked him on your bed. No guns, knives... no burses on you...Look we don't have time to get into it now anyway.

I was the one that couldn't go into that now. The sight of them was reverberating in my mind. I needed the distraction of the police to keep from breaking down. With a sniffle:

"Well then, looking to the immediate future, I assume you are going to file a sexual harassment suit?"

"I can't! They'll fire me."

"Jesus, you have drunk the Kool-Aid? It's OK for them to work you to death, rape you, take the credit for your work... and you want to go back for more? So what are you saying? I'm the bad guy? You were having fun tonight and I'm the one who pissed on your head? Fucked up your party? Look you dumb cunt, you want me out of here? I'm so out of here! But I'll tell you, They want you out of Great Gherkin. That's probably a done deal. You think you're going to stand up and give the marketing address tomorrow morning after what happened tonight? You really think they're going to put you up at the podium after tonight's show? I'll tell you what they're going to do.

Say sweet things to you, plant wet kissed in your ear. Give you a week or two off...as compassionate leave or some such bullshit while they do damage control...clear yours and his e mails of anything that suggests the fucking was coerced. Then they'll fire your ass and offer you a severance package, say six months pay and cobra benefits in exchange for an agreement not to sue.

If you've got grounds to prove coercion, you better go for it; you're going to need the money. Tonight will not look good on your resume. Give me your laptop and the e-mail passwords, I'll copy stuff to a flash drive while you get your story straight in your head."

"No! I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just can't."

"What the fuck else are you trying to hide now? That you've been fucking him for months? What else is there? Who else is there? Shit! Never mind, we don't have time to get into it now."

"If you don't let me help you, instead of us against them...it'll be you against them! Shut me out and I'll head on home and see you when you come to visit."

"What?"

"You got shit stuck in your ears? Either it's you and me against the world, fighting for your best interest, or it'll be you and...maybe your mother fighting for your best interests. Your choice! I'll not stay where I am not both trusted and wanted."

"But... some of those e mails...I don't want you to see them!"

Flashing lights outside the window caught my eye. The cops were here.

"OK. The first of the first responders are here and you've made your choice!

You're on your own! Helmut fucked you, and now Great Gherkin will fuck you as well. I'll meet the police downstairs and go on home when they're done with me. You have fun and enjoy the rest of the sales meeting! Maybe Boss Swede will be interested in fucking you too. Hell, do a good job on him and you'll get another of your fucking promotions!"

Her face would have done justice to a Greek tragedy; it was contorted into a wretched grimace that broke into tears.

"1600 Pennsylvania!"

"What? The fuckin' White House?"

"My pass word, 1600pennsylvania. No capitals. Open Outlook, look under jobs, Local, Sheissekophf. That's where I filed the e-mails concerning the bastard. . You copy them while I go downstairs and try to stall them."

It didn't take long; I downloaded it onto the same flash drive I used for her presentation. I had plenty of room on it to copy her contacts folder as well. Still no one at the door, and more room on the drive, I down loaded the Projects folder in her e mail account too. That filled the flash stick No time to spare. There was a hole in the lining of the right pocket of my sport coat, so I slipped the drive in there, and slid it around to the seam in front where it would escape anything short of a Secret Service pat down. I didn't think anyone would search me, but it cost nothing to be defensive. She evidently couldn't stall them much, maybe 5 or 8 minutes 'cause I just put her computer back in the case when they knocked on the door and ordered all inside to come out.

"Yes sir. I am unarmed, nothing in my hands. I mean no harm to anyone."

They were professional and polite. Did I know of my wife's 'relationship' with him? My answers were the sad truth...I was clueless as to their real relationship until I walked into the room. I saw them and went berserk, and when I pulled him off of the wife, she attacked him as well. Evidently that agreed with what the wife said. They took her to a rape crisis center.

When I asked to leave to go to the rape trauma center, one of the cops offered to lead the way there as it was a bit convoluted getting there with some roads closed. I went back to get her suitcase, put her computer in it, locked it in my truck and followed them. The storm was waning then, but there was trash, plastic pails, and lawn furniture blowing around. With the wind groaning, trees bending, dodging downed branches, we finally got there OK.

When I caught up with my wife, she wanted to talk about her sins when we were alone in the hospital. But I figured it wasn't the time and we had more immediate things to talk about. We needed to plan for tomorrow morning. Boss Swede called her cell to tell her to take the week off as compassionate leave. He also wanted to know where Helmut's clothing was, and she told him she didn't know, and to look around. When she snapped her phone shut I asked:

"If there's anything at work you need or want, tonight is probably the only time you can get in there without an escort."

"Chris, they wouldn't do that! They need me!"

"Humph! We'll see about that, nobody's irreplaceable; it really depends on how badly they want you gone. Anyway, we're planning for the worst here. Tomorrow your key code may not work. Any files you even think you might ever need, get'em now."

She was in denial.

There was nothing at the office she couldn't down load from any Internet connection. Everything was on a computer in the clouds, and she was able to down load stuff on to her computer as we sat in the trauma center. Ain't technology great!

We got home at 3 AM. She had a noticeable bruise on her mons as the kick I gave to Helmut's asshole carried through to her crotch, and then when his dick was violently ripped out of her cunt it caused some modest damage to her vagina. From that evidence they concluded that the intercourse was forced. She knew nothing about the first kick I gave him. Whatever, the hospital had given her a sedative that had her drifting from unconscious to incoherent. I had to half carry her up to bed.

I tried to sleep, but it was hopeless. My stomach was in turmoil, I shit my brains out! What the hell was I going to do? I stuck the flash drive in our computer and reluctantly opened the file. It was bad, but it could have been worse. In the verbal run up to the fucking, she started out pushing him back, telling him no, she was married, and all that, but not threatening to report him!

The e-mails were also filled with friendly notes and praise from Helmut. Frankly it looked more like old fashion seduction. Until a month and a half ago when coincidently there was a series of discussions of a big promotion coming, more money, staff, visibility, but she wasn't seen as part of the family. Family connections were important. Of course family meant Great Gherkin, not me and the kids. She needed to prove to management, meaning him, that she was on board and serious about the company. The next day he sent the email that nailed him.

He told her that Abrmsen wanted her gone to make way for a guy he use to work with in the home office. Helmut, on the other hand, wanted to expand her job scope, promoting her and bumping her to a higher pay grade. However, bucking Abrmsen was risky for him, and she had to prove to him it was worth the risk. They would have a long lunch at the Hilton, and map out their strategy in private.

In my limited knowledge of woman, they rarely say no when they mean yes. It's usually the other way round. They say yes with a qualifier when they mean no. Here she didn't say no, but suggested that this was a bad week, but maybe some time next week.

Evidently it didn't get postponed. Later that day Helmut e mail gushed his appreciation for my wife's sexual delights. In response she claimed she had little memory of anything after the one glass of wine they had at lunch, and that whatever happened was not welcome! She told him that there would be no repeat of that afternoon.

He responded that he 'strongly supported her for the new position under him!'

Great choice of words.

He continued the charm offensive, apparently with limited success. The second time he got between her legs, at least in the e-mails, she sounded very reluctant. He got her acquiescence, so I suppose it was consent. She got the promotion the very next day, so it looked like a quid pro quo. I wonder who else she fucked to get ahead.

A week later she flatly refused him then and forever more, which lead up to last night. Helmut was upbeat about the fucking,' it was fantastic, she was great... or that could have been bullshit. Well, other than Helmut's version that it was wonderful, there was nothing to show she enjoyed it or gave him encouragement, or in any way welcomed the screwing she got. Or clever girl that she is, she was more discrete.

It could certainly have been much worse. I shut the computer down, and fell asleep on the couch. I woke up at some point, and saw my wife curled up on the floor beside me wrapped in a blanket. I quietly stepped over her, tiptoed into the bedroom and went back to sleep. It was light when I stirred as she climbed into bed.

Later that morning I called a lawyer I'd heard of and got a 1 PM appointment. I sent her their e-mails from the flash drive that I had copied at the motel, along with the trauma center contact information. I figured she'd need some sort of background. I checked Wifey's new e-mails on her computer. Several people had sent the wife photos of the attack on the stairs and I forwarded those as well. I told her divorce and a sexual harassment suit were on the table. When the wife came down to breakfast, she bent to give me a good morning kiss, just a buss, a brush of the lips, and I told her about our appointment.

She started crying, fell to her knees at my feet, put her head in my lap and hugged my knees. No, it was not an erotic head in the lap; it was the gesture of a human in pain and in need of comfort.

"Get up, and sit on my lap. Come here."

Like a child in pain, she straddled me to maximize contact, wrapped both arms around me, clinging tight and had a good cry. When it subsided, she said:

"Please don't turn me away. I've done a really stupid thing for which I can't forgive myself, much less ask you to forgive me. I need you, I love you and I will not let you leave me. Not now, not ever! Like Rachel, Where ever you go, I will follow you. I will be by your side always."

"I wish you had...ah shit! It's hard isn't it! When I saw him on top of you, fucking you, I died inside. Felt like someone put a knife in my heart. The e-mails say it was in exchange for the promotion. Did you prostitute yourself to get ahead? Do you love him, and last night's show, was that for my benefit because you got caught?" So you could try and lie your way out of it?

"No! No! No! Chris, none of that. I hate the bastard. I wish I had killed him. Oh please, I'm begging you! I'll do anything! I need your help. I can't get through this by myself. I need you. Don't let go of me! I'll do what ever it takes. We...we can make it, just let's get through the next few days and take it one day at a time. The long term? In the long term we and our children will die. Let's meet this day and let tomorrow take care of itself."

The last bit sounded a little odd...well she was over wrought.

"Right! So just so I understand, how did it happen that I found you in bed with a man you hated? Tell me. I want to believe you."

"I was under a lot of pressure. I knew what I needed to do to turn the company around, and I was going to do it. I was half way there when Helmut latched on to me. He praised me up and down, but then obstructed me behind my back. I finely went to Abramsen and convinced him Helmut was a problem. I don't know what happened the first time, I got no sleep the night before, I was in the office at 5 AM, and we went to a late lunch, with one glass of wine. I can't say he drugged me, maybe I collapsed, I don't know. I woke up at 3 in the afternoon, naked in a hotel room in town, and no idea how I got there.

Helmut claimed I was willing. Bullshit! The second time, in Baltimore, he pushed his way into my room, threatened to scuttle the project; I told him go ahead and try, It wouldn't stop me. He got really mad, like nutty, and grabbed my arms, twisting them and holding them behind me, with one hand, and began feeling me up. Now I'm telling you everything, I was on the rag and begged him not to rape me. I know you think this is stupid. He demanded a blowjob; I asked him how he knew I wouldn't bite? He settled for a hand job. It was disgusting. What a shit! And I can't believe I was negotiating with a rapist

Helmut wasn't supposed to know he was getting fired Wednesday. Somehow he found out, and when I went up to my room after dinner, he pushed his way in behind me. He blamed me for him losing his job and demanded revenge sex or he would beat my face until my mother wouldn't know me. He pulled out a thing the size of a TV remote with two prongs, and said it was a tazer. One zap and I would be paralyzed in agony. When I went for the phone he jumped me. I couldn't shake him; he was pressing a finger into me right here behind my collar bone, and it hurt like hell. I was paralyzed, with fear, something inside me just shut down. I did the minimum I had to do, and endured the rape.

My mind was...was mentally in a little cave inside me, in a shell, like in a storm shelter waiting out the tornado roaring through the house, ripping everything up. Suddenly he screamed and jumped on me, I got a stabbing pain in my groin! I opened my eyes and saw you, like a samurai warrior dragging that piece of shit off of me. Honestly, my mind was still in the little box in my head. Something else took over, I reacted, and I wasn't in control. I mean I could see what I was doing, but, like...like it wasn't me.

Of course, when I came to, I was standing there bare ass naked, in front of the whole company, it was like a nightmare. But it still didn't feel real. You guided me back, but I had no shame or fear... Well, that came soon enough, didn't it?

So that's what happened. I should have reported the first incident, but I didn't. I'm sorry, so sorry; thank god it's over and done with. Can you get...can we get by this?"

"This is the truth, the whole truth?"

"It is".

"Well, it would have been much easier for me it there was some signs of struggle last night. I didn't see any tazer in the room, but I admit it could have been kicked out of sight, and I wasn't looking for it. The bruise on your groin was from me kicking your lover in the ass and balls. I'm sorry you got hurt, but I didn't mean to hit you. The tear to your vagina was probably his cock being ripped out from being pushed forward hen I kicked him. So the injuries the rape center found were from my actions, not his."

"Call the police; see if they have the tazer."

"Abrmsen searched the room looking for asshole's clothes. If it was there, he would have found it. What you said about the second incident? Doesn't jive with the e-mails. The day after you got the promotion, Helmut was praising you about how great the sex was. He said 'you where fantastic, it was great!' Are you telling me he was praising a hand job?

Overall, it looked to me like an old fashion seduction; he praises you three ways to Sunday. That first time you go past countless restaurants to eat at the Hilton? A restaurant so bad they have to sell rooms upstairs to stay in business? What were you thinking? That should have been a red flag!