by Baron Sord
Stazia Wilcox (her first name rhymed with Stay + Asia, her last name rhymed with Will + Cocks — Clifton’s joke, not mine) was the smoking hot bombshell from sales that every guy in the company secretly lusted after. Rumor was that she stripped on the weekends. Clifton and Rene had once put that theory to the test.
On a random Saturday night, they had visited every strip joint in San Diego looking for her. They had begged me to go with, but, as I had told Lady Liberty the day we had met, strip joints weren’t my thing. I had yet to go to one and probably never would, not even Flashbacks where she worked.
Suffice it to say, Clifton and Rene’s post strip-joint tale of adventure reached legendary proportions. Much of it was likely exaggeration, but Clifton had spent so much money buying lap dances that night, he’d had to borrow money from me to cover his car payment that month. He had not asked his hard-working parents for the money because they would’ve demanded to know why their eldest, upstanding, and responsible son needed to borrow any money. No surprise, they were completely unaware of their son’s predilection for strip joints, and he couldn’t tell them the truth because he was afraid they’d have him assassinated for the dishonor and shame with which he’d ruined their family’s good name. And he couldn’t lie to them because he said they always knew when he was. So I had loaned him the cash. At any rate, despite Clifton and Rene’s diligence, he and Rene had seen no sign of Stunning Stazia at any of the strip joints here in town. Rene had suggested Stazia stripped in LA or Vegas because:
A) Strip joints in those cities paid better than SD, and
B) Nobody in those cities worked here.
We didn’t know one way or the other.
Now, I used my feet to spin around in my chair and pull it along the carpet toward the entrance to my cubicle. There, I leaned one eye around the low wall.
One look at Stunning Stazia would convince you she was a stripper. Tall, angelic face, glistening lips, emerald eyes, long blonde hair, huge boobs straining against a blouse that was always unbuttoned at the top, delicate neck, hourglass hips, and long legs caressed by the ultra-tight skirts she wore every day of the week. Last but not least, the high heels on which she strutted at all times.
Woman could walk like a runway model — or a stripper — and always did.
Normally, Clifton, Rene, and I would only get glances of her as she passed our wing of the building, or in the lunch room on the rare occasions we saw her there.
For the first time ever, Stazia turned into our wing and strutted down the long aisle between the endless line of cubicles that stretched back to the main corridor.
Several other guys in our department whose cubicles were closer to the main corridor were leaning out and looking too. As Stazia approached, they retreated guiltily back into their cubes.
Rene whipped around, eyes goggling, and whispered, “She’s coming!” He pushed his wheeled chair backward from the entrance to his cubicle with his feet and spun around to face his computer. Then he banged away loudly at his keyboard, obviously not typing anything, while peering back over his shoulder.
Clackity-CLACK! Clack, Clack, CLACK!
Clifton mouthed silently, “What’s she doing here?!” The look on his perpetually pinched face was a combination of ecstasy and alarm.
I shook my head and mouthed the words, “I have no idea!”
“Here she comes!” Rene hissed over his shoulder, still banging away frantically.
CLACKITY-CLACKITY CLACK!
I spun around to face my own computer. Like many people here at YouDoIt, I had a rearview mirror stuck to my monitor so I could see people coming up behind me. I watched it intently, waiting to catch a mirrored glimpse of Stazia.
A moment ago, I had barely gotten a look at her coming, but I knew in a few seconds, Clifton and Rene would take a long look at her going, and I probably would too. This could be the longest and best look at her I might ever get.
A tiny reflection of her appeared in my little mirror. As if in slow motion, I watched in shock as her reflection turned into my cubicle and overwhelmed the frame.
My heart slammed against my ribs as I realized she was coming up behind me.
What was she doing in my cubicle?!
She had no reason to come in my cubicle!
For several seconds, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t even turn around.
Stunning Stazia Wilcox was in my fricking cubicle!
That alone was a story that would be told and retold by Clifton and Rene well into next week, if not next month.
Unsure if I was seeing things, I blinked my eyes several times and stared at the mirror, assuming the image of Stazia would disappear because I had merely imagined she had walked into my cube.
That said, no amount of frantic blinking would make her image disappear — not that I wanted it to.
“Excuse me?” Stazia asked in a throaty whisper that made my nethers swell in anticipation. “You’re Doug, right?”
She knew my name?
How could Stazia Wilcox possibly know my name?! Sales never talked to QA! Ever! This was a historic moment the likes of which the world had never seen!
I finally turned around.
My heart thudded and my nethers did too.
A wave of sexual heat poured off of Stazia and melted across me like a hot liquid dream.
“Rgh-em!” I cleared my throat. “Rgh-em!” There was no way I was letting my nerves get the best of me today. I wasn’t the same man I had been a month ago when I’d asked out Pinstripe the Pornstar lawyer and had flailed the ask like a seventh-grader at a Sadie Hawkins Dance. My super powers had changed me. I could handle this. I cleared my throat one final time and said calmly, “Yeah, uh, I’m Doug Moore. You’re Stazia, right?”
“That’s me,” she smiled and nodded and pushed a lock of long blonde hair nervously behind her ear.
I just about died right there. My heart was now pounding in my chest. I was fully hard in my khakis. Thank goodness I was sitting down and thank goodness they were baggy. Just in case, I surreptitiously pulled the bottom of my brand-new-but-used Goodwill polo shirt over my crotch. Good thing it was XXL. It was more than baggy enough to cover my XXL rager and quivering ball bag.
Stazia held a bunch of folders clutched to her substantial chest. She slowly lowered the mass of folders, revealing straining cleavage that looked like it wanted to pop the buttons off her blouse.
I swallowed hard.
She giggled.
We were both speechless.
Brrrrr-deep!
My desk phone rang.
Brrrrr-deep!
“Sorry,” I said. “Ignore that. It’s nothing.”
Brrrrr-deep!
Stazia frowned, “Do you need to answer it?”
Hell no I did not need to answer it! Nobody important could possibly be calling me at work because nobody ever did. Whoever it was could wait while Stazia graced me with her angelic presence.
Brrrrr-deep!
If I wanted, I could easily turn my head and see the number on the display, but the last thing I was going to do now was look away from Stunning Stazia. Not when she was this close. This fleeting moment might never repeat itself and I planned on enjoying it as long as humanly possible.
Brrrrr-deep!
Stazia said, “You better answer.”
Grimacing, I imagined myself pulling out a baseball bat (not the one straining in my khakis) and beating my phone to pieces. I did not have a baseball bat. But I did have my fists, which would be more than hard enough to bang the shit out of my phone right now.
Brrrrr-deep!
“Um…” Stazia bit her plump lower lip with gleaming white teeth. “That’s not a client, is it?”
Brrrrr-deep!
I groaned in defeat, “Hold on, I’ll get it.” Now Stazia would walk away and I’d never see her in my cubicle ever again. Glumly, I picked up the phone and said, “Hello?”
“Say something to her!” Clifton scream-whispered into my ear.
> Stazia frowned and glanced over her shoulder at Clifton’s cubicle.
He was nowhere in sight. But I could see his phone cord stretched out across his desk and wrapped around the edge where it disappeared underneath. Was Clifton crouched under his desk and holding the phone to his ear? His cubicle wall that faced the main aisle blocked off the area under his desk, but he had to be down there somewhere huddling in the shadows.
Stazia looked back at me and giggled.
Now I had to make it look like I was having an actual phone call. I said, “Yeah, that’s fine.”
Clifton whispered, “This is your chance Doug! Don’t fuck this up!”
Me, “Okay. I’ll do that.”
“No! Don’t fuck it up! Talk to her, God damn it!”
“Can I have it to you by next Wednesday?” I said calmly.
“You better bang her by next Wednesday or you’re officially kicked out of the man club! Me and Rene will never forgive you if you don’t!”
“Perfect. I’ll have it to you then. Bye.” I hung up the handset in the cradle and smiled at Stazia. “Sorry.”
“No worries,” she giggled and pulled a file folder out of the stack she was clutching nervously against her cleavage. “This is for you.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“Just some forms from HR you’re supposed to sign.”
I frowned, “Why didn’t someone from HR bring it?”
She giggled nervously, “Gloria asked me to.” Everyone knew Gloria in HR. Stazia thought, Take it already!
I leaned forward in my chair to cover my rager and took the folder. I could see Rene leaning over in his chair so far that he had to grab the edge of his desk to keep from falling out of his chair.
I shot him a glare and thought, Turn the frick around, Rene!
I don’t know if my thought went out to him telepathically or not, but his eyes suddenly goggled and he fell out of his chair with a thud.
Stazia spun around with a gasp.
Rene instantly started doing pushups. He grunted, “Ninety-eight! Ninety-nine! A hundred!” He sat back on his heels and clapped his hands together. Considering that some people at YouDoIt sat on exercise balls instead of chairs, or had standing desks, or even bicycle pedals under their desks, it wasn’t strange at all for someone to take a pushup break.
Unless you were Rene, who only took video game breaks.
Rene smiled big at Stazia, “Nothing like a hundred pushups to get the blood flowing.” He planted a foot on the floor, a hand on his knee, and pushed himself clumsily to his feet. Suddenly, he winced. “Aye! My back!” He practically fell backward into his office chair grimacing and clutching his back with one hand.
“Are you okay?” Stazia asked with genuine concern.
Rene wheezed, “Fine! Totally fine!” He turned to face his computer, still clutching his back.
Stazia turned to face me. Gave me a sultry smirk and said, “I should go. Don’t forget to read over those forms and sign them. Especially the last page.”
I hadn’t even opened the folder. I simply said, “Who do I give them to when I’m done?”
“To me,” she purred.
Was she coming on to me? I wasn’t sure, but her mind was blank of any discernible thoughts, so I said, “I thought they went to Gloria?”
“Oh, yeah, um, no, I mean — just look at them!” she blurted nervously. “I need to go!”
Stazia spun on the toes of her high heels and strutted back down the long aisle between the cubicles.
Clifton leaned out of his and stared for several seconds before his eyes rolled into his head and he moaned silently while thinking, What I wouldn’t do to fuck that perfect ass!
Still sitting in his chair, Rene used his shoes to push his way backward across the aisle, wheeling his chair into my cubicle before turning around with a wince.
I said, “Are you okay, dude?”
He grimaced, “My back locked up.”
I rolled my eyes, “From doing three pushups?”
“That’s three more than I’ve done all year,” he said, offended.
Clifton snuck across the aisle from his side to mine, crouched low like he was trying to avoid sniper fire. He whispered, “What the hell was that? Why is she bringing you HR forms?”
I smirked, “Did you eavesdrop on our entire conversation?”
“Didn’t miss a word,” he grinned proudly.
I expected nothing less. I would’ve done the same if she had been talking to Clifton or Rene instead of me. I opened the file folder and flipped through a few official forms that were printed on YouDoIt stationary.
“What is it?” Clifton asked.
“I don’t know,” I said as I continued flipping. When I got to the last page, I nearly had a heart attack.
“What! The fuck?!” Clifton gasped. “Are those—?!”
—: Chapter 6 :—
Kristy Crawford woke up in bed nearly naked and thinking about furry pussy cats.
Instinctively she covered her breasts, crossing her arms over her chest.
Zap!
Shocked her left nipple with the two black wires in her right hand. Yanked her hands away and sat up in her panties. The shock wasn’t painful, but it surprised her.
“What time is it?” she yawned.
The sun was already up, but it was still morning.
“Oh, shit! Missy!” She was thinking of her neighbor Wade’s cat Mischief! When it was summer, Missy sometimes slept with her. Missy could’ve been electrocuted!
Then Kristy remembered she’d made double-sure last night to close the windows and doors so Missy didn’t get inside. She’d checked the apartment too. Mischief was fine. Probably out chasing birds somewhere because Wade was probably out surfing somewhere else.
Kristy yawned big.
Somehow, she’d managed to sleep through the night without burning the apartment building down.
First thing she did was unplug the extension cord from her bedside outlet, then the one in the kitchen. Then used her ever-sharp nails to snip the zip-ties on her wrists.
Then she closed her eyes and focused.
She was buzzing, all right.
Her inner vortex was like a blue tornado or something.
“It worked!” she giggled. “I’m like an effing super battery! Now what do I do with all this juice? Pee first, juice later.”
Sizzle!
Surprise!
Pee conducted electricity!
A little bit of electrical juice went right down the stream into the water.
Hadn’t thought of that!
After she finished her tingling tinkle in the bathroom, she went into the kitchen. Her stomach grumbled at the sight of her refrigerator. She opened it and pulled out a Rubbermaid box of cooked pizza slices.
Peeled off the top and set it on the kitchen table.
Went over to the dish-rack to grab a knife and fork.
Zap!
“Oh!” The static discharge startled her. “Same as with the pee.”
She’d have to be more careful.
When she pulled the stainless steel butter knife out of the silverware holder on the dish-rack, Zzzzzz! Every piece of silverware came with it, like they were glued together.
“What?!” she laughed. “Who glued these?”
Not glued.
Peeling them apart, she quickly realized…
“It’s like magnets,” she tittered.
Spent a few minutes clicking silverware together and prying them apart.
“No effing way! I’m an electromagnet!”
Her eyes lit up with ideas. She grabbed a handful of silverware and went to her bathroom. Flipped on the light. Stuck butterknives to her earlobes like earrings.
Laughed.
Posed in the mirror, turning from side to side, making the butter knives swing and twinkle in the light.
“What do you think, darling? Too much?”
The heavy butter knives were stretching out her earlobes. Not painfully, but
it looked weird. She peeled them off and put a bunch of utensils around her neck like a necklace. They stuck to her skin wherever she put them.
Giggling, she put butterknives sideways over her bare nipples. They stuck, looking very much like huge piercings.
She laughed loud.
“That looks awful.”
She peeled the knives off her breasts and stuck them to the back of one hand and added a third. Held them up like Wolverine’s classic claws.
“Snikt this, bitch!”
She laughed again.
Obviously, it wouldn’t work because they weren’t attached to her adamantium skeleton.
“Eff that,” she held up her fingernails and growled at the mirror, “I’ve got my own damn steel claws!”
Laughing, she peeled off the Wolverine claws and the spoon-and-fork necklace and set the utensils in the sink. But they didn’t stay where she put them. They stuck to her fingers!
“Stop sticking!” she laughed.
The silverware wouldn’t come off!
“That’s annoying. Can I not be an electromagnet?”
She closed her eyes and concentrated.
Saw in her mind the vortex traveling down her arm into the silverware. Weirdly, the vortex wasn’t a vortex in the silverware. It was like… she couldn’t tell from so far away.
Like she always did when she was drawing on her Cintiq tablet, she zoomed in to get a better look.
“Oh my God!” she gasped.
Suddenly, in her mind, the image of her hand and the attached silverware blew up until it was gigantic.
Everything went red.
“What am I even looking at?”
She imagined dragging the image around like she did on the computer with the grabber tool. Still, everything was red.
“Is that like… like cells? The cells in my hand?”
Kristy’d taken biology way back when. She had some general idea what cells looked like.
“I think it’s cells.”
She dragged some more.
The red changed to gray.
“Cool! Now it’s like a Martian landscape or something, but gray. Is that? Is that… silverware? It’s like an electron microscope picture of what… metal? This is amazing!” Kristy giggled. “But I need to see the juice. Can I see just the juice?”
