Good Pet

It’s just as the phone on her desk cries out with a shrill ring. An urgent one. Unfortunately for me, she lets it ring. Let’s the sound fill her office, no doubt, so it can cover my continued protests.

“Get yourself hard for me,” she orders, pulling at her own pants one-handed. “Stroke that big dick until it’s ready for me to ride.”

The phone goes silent, and immediately it starts to ring again. As the second round of ringing enters the space, I know it’s Melissa. I feel her fighting to protect me and insert herself in the space, where I’m about to be overpowered. Dominated by my cruel, demanding boss. A woman who thinks she deserves everything she can take, all without ever having to give or get what she deserves.

This inspires me to act. I need to keep up my fight. I have to move. And in doing so, I manage to actually break away from the window, grabbing the top of my desk chair in my hands. I pick it up, swing it, and toss it towards the gun. Once away from the window, I don’t stop. I head directly for the door, not looking to see the aftermath. I can feel Vanacore right behind me. I can feel her trying to get a grip on me. My leg, my back — anywhere.

Somehow, I manage to dodge it all. Maybe it’s God coming to my rescue, maybe it’s Melissa, protecting me. Whatever it is, I’m able to get out of the office. Because it’s early and there are not very many people in the offices yet, I’m able to run down the hallway and get my underwear and pants up around me again before anyone sees.

As I practically dive into the elevator and bash the button for the ground level, I’m shaking. I’m scared out of my mind and filled with regret. Why, oh why! Why oh why did I ever think I could take her on! Why did I ever think I could control the situation! Why oh why did I ever think it was a good idea for me to try to be a hero! I’m no hero! I collapse momentarily against one wall of the elevator, feeling it scoot smoothly down the elevator shaft. Due to the early hour, the elevator makes no stops on the other floors, it heads straight for the bottom level. I’m no hero. I’m just a big, fat victim. A pig everyone always wants to slaughter. A pig that is really of no use or value to anyone, no matter what he thinks of himself! A pig in a suit is still a pig!

With this thought, the elevator slows. It comes to a stop on the ground floor. As the doors start to come open, I right myself, and dash out the elevator. I book it out of the building, out of the main doors of the office, and head as far across the parking lot as my legs will carry me. I come to a stop near Melissa’s car because I don’t know where else to go or where else to be right now, except here. That’s how much comfort she gives me, even now. Even after what I’ve just experienced attempted rape.

As that thought crests my conscious mind, I have to do everything I can to keep from fainting. What was I thinking, trying to get evidence on a monster like her? What was I thinking, trying to be all brave and heroic? Thinking I could take her down. If I take her down, she is going to take me down with her.

As I lean against the car, try to get myself to breathe normally, another frightening thought enters my mind. After everything I’ve been through this morning, and what’s likely to happen because of it, there’s no way I’ll be able to continue working for her. There’s no way I’ll be able to continue working at this office, either. And if Vanacore makes good on her threat, I’m not going to be able to work in this field again. Not in Manhattan. Not in anywhere in the world, despite the world-famous reputation McKenzie Tech is gaining.

I’ve sacrificed everything I worked so hard for, for some good deed I couldn’t even achieve. Some righteous actively trying to protect myself and others, to be a symbol of the goodness and rightness of justice in law, and for what? For nothing but pain. I slide down along the car until I’m sitting on the asphalt. For nothing more than more physical, emotional, and mental pain.

I start to shake, putting my arms across my lap and burying my head in them. Who knows? In addition to the pain this has already cost me, I might get more. My girlfriend might leave me. Melissa already looked worn down by what I was doing. She might just decide that I’m not worth any more time or effort. Just like everyone else in my life. She might decide to break up with me and after less than a week of officially going out.