Story: New Employee. Chapters 30-31.

by BigBird74

30.

A few days passed before the manageress called to see me again. Once or twice I had seen her in the distance, a blur of activity, hurrying off to one or other meeting. Sometimes I mistook someone else for her. Her usual attire, a tight skirt ending just above the knee paired with sharply heeled stiletto pumps reminded me of a strict headmistress. Whether or not that particular ensemble was chosen on purpose, the effect on me was instant and telling: tightness in my stomach followed by a warm, pleasurable glow below.

If the fear of being found out was draining, the terror of uncertainty was more so. A naturally submissive person, despite the years of privilege, I felt increasingly vulnerable and unable to take the initiative in any way. Of course, this must have been the effect desired by the Manageress: keeping me off balance and unable – or more likely – too scared to do anything to risk ruining herself. She had already started to act in the name of Katherine. That decision to extend Martha’s tenure with the hotel was the first instant. I fretted over her access to my email and all that could entail. But that was only the half of it. She also had my cards, identity cards, driving license. Barring one or two passwords and codes, she had almost everything she needed to become a virtual me. I was painfully aware that the codes to my bank account were the most important thing to keep secret now. Were I to surrender those, the consequences could be damning.

By the third day of not seeing the manageress, I decided I needed to act. The anxiety was becoming too great. Surely she was checking my email now? What was she writing back? What was she planning? She must see that this could not last much longer? After all her friends and – more importantly – family back home must be wondering what is happening? I decided to see if I could catch her early in the morning. In many ways, it was almost a spur of the moment decision, after another sleepless night, tossing and turning in bed, my mind trying to work out some kind of solution. It was also clumsy timing.

As I ventured into the corridor containing her office, I had already seen the manageress hurrying along ahead of me, oblivious to the fact that I was following her. The way she had slammed her door closed should have warned me not to approach her at that moment, but inside my head I had built this moment up to such a crucial pitch that I was not to be dissuaded. Standing outside the office, I knocked quietly, feeling afraid but determined to find out what was going on.

I heard no answer. I knocked again, somewhat more insistently. Still nothing. For the first time in a very long while, I felt a moment of indignation: how could she ignore me! I know she is inside! I tried the door handle and, finding it open, walked inside.

The manageress was sitting at her desk glowering at me. She was on the telephone and I was clearly interrupting her. “One moment”, she asked her interlocutor, and muted her phone.

“How dare you come in here like that!” Her voice was sharp and laced with menace. “Who do you think you are?!” Her anger was genuine and not contrived as it had been in previous encounters. The effects of the psychological torment I had brought upon myself were starting to take their toll. My mood swings were enormous. A moment go I had been angry, Katherine’s sense of status recovered for the briefest of moments. Now, mere seconds later I was crumpling into a ball. Marta’s character was in the ascendant and I was helpless to see a way to regain control right now. In response, I merely looked at my feet and felt sick and afraid.

The little mouse that stood in front of me showed that ignoring the stupid girl for long enough was breaking down her confidence. Granted she had breached the normal lines of protocol between a boss and her supplicant, but the reaction of being shouted at was just about as good as I might have hoped for. But I needed tread warily. I cannot risk that somehow her situation becomes so desperate she might break cover. I threw her lifeline.

“Sorry John, I will call you back. Something….. came up here”

I hung up and put the mobile down. Silently, I reached for the other phone. Her phone. Katherine’s phone. I lifted it and read some of the emails from the screen.

“Well what was that fuss about….. Marta?”

The poor creature looked like she may break down into tears. She needed reassurance, needed to feel the touch of a safety net catching her from falling too quickly. The situation had been swirling around in her head for days, but her mind was not strong enough to overcome the anxiety. Her moment to question me fading into embarrassing silence. This conversation was not as she had imagined. Then she spoke.

“I.. need to know….. what is happening. Please. I.. I cannot bear not knowing.. I appreciate you not telling anyone, but…. h..how long can this go on, they will be asking questions…”

I broke her off.

“Marta. You do not seem to understand. Katherine Webb is no concern of yours. You are taking far too much interest in her than would be considered healthy……”

My train of thought was interrupted by noticing she was breaking character too, neglecting to speak her pidgin English. She was clearly at risk of having an emotional breakdown if I did not cushion the descent into her new life. I decided to act and indulge the heiress’ dirty little fantasy.

31.

“If you must know, Katherine is fine…. She is extending her tour and travelling to Latin America for a few weeks…” Her words jolted me. Though we had spoken of Ms. Webb – myself – in the third person a few times now, this marked something of an escalation. It was almost as though I had been separated from her, as though she were now an independent force, something beyond my control. This mental image was so profoundly wrong, though in a thrilling way. It was almost as if I were no longer Katherine at all and it had a clearly visible effect on me.

“It… is all okay? No-one has… has said anything?” I asked back, desperate to know that I could let go, at least for the time being, of my anxiety. The manageress smiled a little, crossing and uncrossing her legs, inviting my eyes to dance over her shapely legs. She had all the power at that very moment to help me. She had all the cards to stop me from ruining myself. The sexual heat building between us at that moment was so thick and pungent, I lost track of what we were discussing.

“Yes Marta, Katherine is safe. You can let go.” She spoke gently, soothingly, fully aware of the effect her words were having. I felt the tightness in my stomach relent and, breathing normally for the first time in a few days, I found the near panic that had gripped me start to dissolve, giving way to that sordid delight I found in my position.

I nodded. “You .. please will keep me safe?”

This was it! Another level of surrender. It was amazing how a few days ignoring the fool could result in such an easy capitulation. Her confidence was at near zero, but she was almost completely hooked on the feelings and excitement her journey prompted within her. Her body gave away all the tell-tale signals: flushed cheeks and tops of her chest. A slight tremble. Her posture.

“Yes Marta, I will keep your secret and keep you safe. Now go. You have to mop the stairs today and ensure that the public toilets are clean, as always. I will send for you if I need you.”

With that, the heiress to one of the country’s biggest fortunes slinked from the room, leaving me to return to my business. Not once had she complained about her lack of access to me. She understood the dynamics of our relationship. She did as she was told and she would be safe. Blackmail maybe? In part yes. But her own desires were too strong for her to question what was becoming a beneficial arrangement.

I decided to take a break myself and turned my attention to the news. Though I did not realise it at the time, the second story on the website, about some investigations into improper financial behaviour at a leading bank would eventually impact on everything we were doing. It would force me to adapt quickly and in profound ways. I flicked past the expose with barely a note of concern.

Of much greater interest was Katherine’s phone. It was now full of requests for meetings and advice. I had not been totally honest when I said everything was okay. To someone of lesser standards, Katherine’s work of late might have been adequate, but it was not near her usual standards and one or two comments from colleagues were warning of trouble ahead. I was not totally sure how to deal with this, but deal with it I must.

The explosion of relief I felt after speaking to the Manageress was predictably brief as my overactive imagination soon got to work on figuring out what could still go wrong. Still, I did feel a whole lot better and convinced – at least for a brief period – that the manageress was treading warily. In some deranged way, I had managed to cast the majority of my doubts to one side and chosen to believe that she was on my side. Foolish perhaps, a voice nagged at the back of my mind, but I was in too far to think of a way back on my own.

I went about my duties, mopping the stairs leading to the public toilets. My mind, relaxing a little after these days of torment, began once again to roam the darker recesses of my mind. The lurid and dirty edges of my imagination as I pictured myself no better, if not lower, than the Latina maid I had seen those weeks before. The one terrified of her boss. Much in the way I was now captive to the whims of the Manageress.

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