by Krista Lakes
I rocked my hips to his tempo, feeling the friction inside of me removing every trace of ice. My spine felt like it could melt from desire, a burning cord down my back, only surviving by the memory of the ice. Every thrust consumed me, my body racked with pleasure and pain at the same time. He put his fingers on my clit, rubbing them in a small circle as he plowed into me. The extra stimulation distracted me further from the fire in my ribs, the agony of every breath. I wanted to scream with pleasure as he touched me, but breathing deeply hurt, so I could only moan. My body hummed with sensation, his cock filling me, his fingers on my clit, the ache in my ribs. His pleasure combating my pain.
I could feel him swelling, his tempo increasing as he found his own rhythm. I urged him on with my hips, my ribs on fire, my insides aching for his seed. His breath caught, and he plunged deeply inside of me, pushing a thread of white hot liquid into my core. I cried out with release, my own fire quenched by his liquid.
He lay carefully beside me, untying me from the bed. My hands were still bound together as he pulled me close to him, mindful of my ribs. We lay together, recovering slowly as our breath returned. He then untied me, helping me to sit upright. With my hands free, I grabbed his head, pulling him in for a kiss. I could taste my own salty tang on his lips, his mouth once again warm.
“Raise your arms up,” he said gently. I looked at him warily, eying the headboard again. He laughed, and picked up the ice packs he had brought with him, pushing them gently against my ribs. The mass of cold made me gasp a little, and I held them in place while he wrapped the bandage around me.
“I have a feeling that wasn't part of my doctor's orders” I grinned at him as he finished and looked over his work.
“But I bet it made you feel better,” he said as he kissed my nose.
“Much! Now, tell me about your day...” I tried again. He wrapped his arms around me, his lips right at my ear, whispering the secrets of his day.
***
I have never felt so happy to go to work. The next day I practically skipped into my office, though with my leg and ribs being as sore as they were, it was more like a happy limp. Stack of paper covered my desk, stray get well soon cards popping out like affectionate mines. The thoughtfulness of my co-workers amazed me as I worked my way though my absence. It felt good to be back in the swing of things. I focused on catching up, ignoring the files burning a hole through my laptop. I wanted to work on the mystery of those files, but my job kept popping up. It took me a week before I felt like I had finally caught up enough to look at them.
***
I looked at my desk. The inbox was empty. It was a little after 5pm, so most of the staff had gone home, but Mr. King was working late that night. He was my ride home, so I was working late too, but I had finally caught up. It was the perfect opportunity to look at my files. I pulled them up and began working on them when an email popped up on my phone. It was a system wide update about the 401K matching program again, reminding everyone to sign up to the full amount. It suddenly hit me that I had downloaded my statement the night of the accident. It was one of the files that had been on my computer, but I had never actually looked at it.
I opened it up, checking the balance. I had started out putting only 5% into the fund, but with Olivia constantly emailing about the matching incentive I had recently upped it to the full 10%. Something about the date stuck out to me, so I cross referenced it with the projected employee fund costs. Despite me upping my fund, the payment to the employee matching fund didn't increase.
It struck me as odd and I pulled up those files. The fund amount never seemed to change- it was always the full amount. I began pulling up employee pay records, looking for fund contributions. They didn't match up. I took a deep breath, a feeling of anticipation rushing through me in waves. This could be it. I looked at the other numbers for other departments, pulling up the pay stubs to match spending reports for every department I could think of. None of them matched properly.
I leaned back in my chair, my brain buzzing around in my head trying to focus on what I was seeing. I could even follow how clever it was, the safeguards in place to keep anyone from finding out, and because of that, who had done it. It was an incredibly creative way to steal money from the company without the company finding out, or even suspecting.
Whoever was doing this was making it appear as though almost every employee was donating at least 10% of their pay into the 401K plan, and thus being fully matched by the company. In reality, only about 75% of the company was actually at the full matching criteria, 20% had partial matching, and 5% weren't even actually enrolled.
Whomever had set this up had created imaginary accounts that the company was matching incentives into. The excess funds were diverted into a separate account, thus effectively siphoning off hundreds of thousands of dollars every month. The company expected to pay that much in matching incentives, so no one had looked into to see that it was actually matching real employee accounts. My head was still spinning around the concept, but I knew I was onto something big. I took a couple of screen shots, saving them immediately to my cloud storage, and picked up the phone.
“Mr. King, please...” I waited patiently as Ms. Aloute rang into his office. “Mr. King, I found it. I think I figured out who is stealing from the company. I'll be up in a moment to show you my work.” I barely registered his response as I slowly set the phone back in its cradle. It was all about the matching 401K plan.
“Very good Ms. Vanders. You figured it out. I'm afraid you won't be able to do anything about it though. Please get up slowly.” Olivia Roberts voice purred from behind me. I turned slowly in my chair to find her pointing a revolver straight at my head. Her perfect pink lips curled in a sadistic smile as I slowly stood.
“Good. Now, I need you to be the good little girl that I know you are; if you behave and do as you're told, you don't get shot. I don't want to kill you, Ms Vanders, but you are not ruining this. Now get your jacket. Pick up my keys on the desk there. You are going to drive me to the airport. I have a plane to Cape Verde to catch.” Her plastered smile never faltered as she slid the gun into her coat pocket, clearly keeping it pointed at me through the fabric.
“How did you do it?” I asked cautiously as I put on my coat. I tried to move slowly, hoping that too much time would pass and Mr. King would notice I was gone and call security. It was a thin hope, but still one I was willing to cling to.
“No stalling. Move faster and maybe I'll tell you.” She growled, waving the gun in her pocket to accentuate her point. I picked up her keys and she grabbed my arm and pushed the gun into my ribs. I was incredibly glad she had picked the side that didn't have the fractures, but it still hurt. I limped a little as we walked, my leg protesting the speed that she wanted me to go.
“Walk faster.” She growled, practically dragging me along.
“I can't- I got a little busted when my car rolled over, remember?” I hissed at her through clenched teeth.
“I'm sorry about that. I only meant to scare you, but you just hit that shoulder and flipped. You should be grateful I called the ambulance for you at all.” Her voice was cold and uncaring as we entered the garage. She waved to the guard and pushed the gun in my ribs until I waved to him as well. He waved and turned back to his newspaper, letting us head to the car. I wanted to scream.
“I want to know how you did it.” I gasped as we got to her car. I didn't open the door, just stood there with the keys in my hand until she finally rolled her eyes.
“Fine, you drive and I'll tell you all about it. Get in the fucking car, Claire.”
I slid into the driver's seat, my hands shaking as I started the engine and pulled the seat belt tight across my lap. She sat behind me, her arm snaking around the seat to keep the gun firmly in my ribs.
“It wasn't that hard actually. The people that are putting 10% or more, I don't bother with them at all. It's the ones who are putting less or nothing at all that made this possible. If a person is only putting in 8
% of their pay, the company should only match 8%. I simply made it so that the company matches as if it were the full 10%, only the extra 2% goes to me. The accounts where they aren't even putting anything into their retirement are even easier. I get the full 10% off of those. Take the highway.” She spoke easily, as though this were the most natural part of the day for her.
“How were you getting away with it?” I asked as I merged onto the highway.
“It was easy enough. By reporting 95% of employees paying into the plan, the company expected that much money to go out the door. Hell, they encouraged it. I got a bonus for getting the participation up that high. They never questioned where the money was going. It is free money for employees, and if they are too stupid to take advantage of it, then I will. I made sure that the correct matching went to the employees. Besides, I am the director of the matching incentive program. If anyone had any concerns, they would have come to me. Any questions on any of the payments came through me, and I only had to authorize them to myself if there was a problem.” She laughed, but it sounded cold.
“How long have you been doing this? How much have you stolen?” I asked trying to do the math in my head. She answered like it didn't matter.
“Since I was appointed the director for the program, so about 4 years ago. I started slowly, convincing people to start the program, so my first year wasn't as much as now. It has been trending into the millions. And it isn’t stealing. I never took a dime from the employees. I just took what they were too stupid not to take advantage of.”
“It's still stealing” I whispered.
“You shut your fucking mouth. You had to come along and ruin everything. I still had three more years before I hit my goal, but now I am going to have to leave it half finished. You fucking whore. Mr. King's little accounting whore. You are nothing but his prostitute. Everyone knows you got your job by sleeping with him. You barely have a job. He doesn't care about you- he just likes tying your pretty cunt up.” Olivia sneered, pushing the gun into the tender flesh between my ribs. I squirmed away from the pain, both the physical and the emotional. I forced myself to concentrate on the road, to not listen to her words.
“Oh, does that hurt little princess? Too close to the truth? You know as well as I do that man loves only his precious King Enterprises. He just keeps you around because you feel nice on his prick. Though, as I recall, that prick does feel rather nice. A little long for my taste, I prefer them thicker, but he does know how to get the job done.” Olivia laughed cruelly as she dug the gun deeper.
I wanted to hit her so badly, to just turn around and slam her face into the seat for her lies. I must have shown the hurt from her words as she dropped her voice to a whisper, moving her lips next to my ear, “Oh, he didn't tell you about us then? I wonder what else he has kept from you? You should ask him about what we did in Vegas...”
Her giggle made red lines run through my vision. Rage and a need for violence surged in my core. We were almost at the airport and I had no delusions that she was going to let me get away. She might let me live, but she wasn't going to make it a pleasant existence. She wanted to hurt me. She leaned back, pulling the gun out of my ribs but still pointed at me. I made a split second decision that I was sure I was going to regret.
I closed my eyes and slammed the wheel hard to the right, my foot hitting the gas pedal to the floor while I willed the rest of my body to go limp. Lights blazed through my vision, white and red flooding through my eyelids while the sounds of a gunshot, metal on metal, the engine's roar, and her terrified screams rose to a crescendo in an unholy music. My body floated through time and space, I willed it to be flexible, to roll with the car instead of fighting it. Drunk people survived car crashes all the time, I told myself as I floated upside down.
Everything landed with a thud. The air was thick with white powder, the airbags hanging limply like forgotten children's balloons. I was pretty sure I had fractured another rib and definitely re-injured the other two, but at least this time I didn't lose consciousness and I didn't think I was bleeding. I felt for the door, still disoriented and dazed, my hands shaking from the adrenaline.
Fresh air filled my nostrils as I opened the door. The white powder was slowly settling, and I looked frantically around for Olivia. She wasn't in the car with me. For a horrible second I thought she would come walking up over the ridge with the gun pointed at my head, but I could hear people shouting behind me. I slowly unbuckled my seat belt, breathing in the fresh air from the open door.
“Hey Lady! Are you alright?” A worried young man stood at my window with a first aid kit in his hands.
“I'm not sure. I think I broke another rib” I struggled not to cough as the airbag dust irritated my lungs. Just breathing was proving to be a slow form of torture, and the need to cough was unbearable. “Where's the woman who was in the car with me?” I asked as he slowly helped me out of the car. The air outside smelled so good.
“My wife is a nurse, she is looking after her. I'm really sorry, but she wasn't wearing her seat belt, and it doesn't look good.” He looked sad as he helped me sit down in the grass. An ambulance wailed up, followed by a firetruck. Two firemen ran over and began checking me out, trying to ask me questions, but I was distracted by the paramedics putting Olivia on a stretcher. It wasn't until the ambulance screamed off that I was able to answer their questions. A second ambulance arrived, and the firemen shuffled me into it and off to the hospital.
***
“She could have shot you! She had the gun pointed right at you!” Mr. King glared at me.
“I didn't think of that until after we were flipping over the guard rail. Oops,” I replied shrugging my shoulders.
“Oops? Claire, I almost lost you. Again. I don't like this habit of yours. I may make Charles drive you everywhere from now on.” He reached out and touched my hand, the limo slowing as it took a turn. He brought it to his lips and kissed it gently, tenderness in every motion.
He had stayed the night at the hospital again, my shield against the police that came about the accident, and then about what I had to tell them. It had been a brutal affair, but Mr. King had made sure that all the documents went to the correct investigators and that I never had to repeat my story.
He had become concerned when I didn't show up at his office and didn't answer my phone. Security footage showed me leaving with Olivia and he immediately knew something was wrong. He had called the police and they had actually set up a roadblock at the airport for me. Knowing that, it made my decision to crash seem pointless.
Olivia was in intensive care. The doctors thought that she was going to make it, but it would take months of rehab. On the one hand I felt horrible that I had caused pain to another human being, but on the other, she had tried to kill me. Twice. I decided it some of it had to be karma.
The car slowed as we approached the house. I stepped out gingerly, my ribs still sore. I had walked away from this accident with the same two fractured ribs, a new bruised rib, and a sprained ankle. Mr King wrapped his arms around me as he carefully guided me into the house. He felt so strong beneath me, so safe. I felt like I could fall a thousand times and he would always be there to catch me.
The big main door opened and I gasped. The entire foyer was filled with flowers. Red long stem roses and lilies of every color filled every square inch of the entrance. The lilies were my favorite flower in the world. I wasn't even sure how he had found that out, but there they were just for me. It smelled wonderful. I turned to look at him, surprise covering my face.
“Welcome home, Claire.” He smiled nervously, taking my hands in his.
“This is beautiful! You didn't need to do all this- I was only in the hospital a day!” I exclaimed.
“Actually, there is something that I needed to tell you, and William said I should have flowers. I think I may have been a little overzealous though.” he raked his fingers through his hair, obviously flustered.
“I have wanted to tell you this for a long time, but i
t never seemed like the right time. I was afraid that you were only here because of my money, but when you didn't show up last night, I was so worried. Seeing you in the hospital, it made me realize how much I need to tell you- how I should have told you so much earlier. I love you Claire.”
Every color looked brighter. Every flower smelled sweeter. Every breathe felt like I was alive once I heard those words. His eyes shone down on me, calling me into their never ending patterns of blue and brown. I reached up and cupped his face in my hand, whispering, “I love you, Gregory King.” and I kissed him.
His arms wrapped around me, his hands pulling my face into his. I didn't want to break away to breathe, I didn't want this perfect moment, this perfect kiss to end. He kept his hands in my hair, our bodies pressed close together, both breathless and excited. I felt like a giddy teenager with my first love, the dizzy happiness better than any drug. Mr. King kissed the tip of my nose, smiling down at me.
“Upstairs?” he asked quietly. I nodded emphatically, pressing my hips into him. I wanted to feel his body merge with mine, let our love take a physical form. His smile was all I could see as he reluctantly let me go and grabbed my hand, both of us sprinting for the stairs. He got there first, waiting step by step as I carefully made my way up, my ribs protesting my every breath.
Gregory led me to his bedroom, opening the door for a grand reveal. A vase with still more lilies on the dresser caught my attention first, followed by the beautiful corset laying on the bed. I went to touch the corset, all blue satin and lace and noticed the collar above it. It was a thick black leather collar, a silver loop at the top where a petite silver chain attached. My mind raced with all the wonderful possibilities this could have.
“Let me help you,” he whispered from behind me, reaching out and picking up the corset. I grinned and stripped down to just my panties quickly, turning my back to him as he wrapped it around me. He began pulling the laces tight, the boning strong against my ribs. I expected pain, but the boning of the corset supported the injury and kept my breathes shallow. It was the best my poor ribs had felt since the accident.
