Wednesday, December 12, 2018

Story: New Employee. Chapter 41.

 by BigBird74

Just how vulnerable was I? It appeared extremely. I could try to get to my father. I could run from the whole ghastly situation. Anything would be better than simply waiting and sinking further into this new life! But I sat still. For the moment it felt that my options had run out and I was safest staying just where I was. As an undocumented worker, I had no money, nowhere to go. I did not even have an official identity. All my life I had received the very best money could buy. Everything had been so simple and natural, one easy, obvious option after the other. I was totally unprepared for anything involving such a wrenching dilemma like this. I felt dizzy, disoriented and very afraid.

I obsessively scanned the same pages in the newspaper several times, hoping to gleam something new, a ray of hope, perhaps, something I had misread earlier. But, of course, nothing changed and the situation remained bleak. As much as I focused on my father’s fate, I also needed to find out what had happened to my sister. Had she been caught up in the same imbroglio? There was nothing mentioned in the paper. If she had any part in the scandal, it was not immediately obvious. The fear or flight battle taking part inside of me then flared back into life: I could go and find her! At least to see where she might be? It had been months of zero contact and I needed to know what had happened. The impulsive side to my character, the one that had led me to this point, again took hold of the reins. I knew that on a normal day Katherine’s assistant would return after several hours. That gave me more than enough time to work my way to my sister’s apartments, several blocks away. I grabbed a light coat from my former wardrobe and tried to cover my ill-fitting, drab uniform as best I could and headed out of the building to see.

Monday, December 3, 2018

Story: New Employee. Chapter 40.


by BigBird74

Katherine’s assistant had gone on something of a purge. A number of the people I dealt with on a daily basis had either been transferred or removed from their position. Doormen, handymen, even suppliers to the building, all had been changed. The effect, no doubt, was to surround me with people that could never suspect who I was. The powerlessness I suddenly felt gave rise to a familiar, delicious tingle between my thighs. It is amazing how those three words, ‘who I was’, could elicit such delight. I had found it increasingly wasteful to fret about the question. The anxiety I had experienced at the start of this adventure had given way to tiredness and exhaustion. As time ran away from weeks to months, I had found it difficult to even start contemplating turning back without eliciting a degree of horror at what that would involve. My exit from this life depended on one person and she showed no signs of changing anything.

As well as attending to the lobby and the various communal areas of the building, my duties extended to cover my former penthouse. Katherine’s assistant now lived here and was revelling in the luxury that it offered her. She had taken to wearing many of my former clothes and jewels, and for all intents and purposes, was living a similar life to the one I had vacated. I assumed that both of us got a thrill from my servile role in my former home. At least I was sure at the outset, though as we grew used to the situation, things turned a little more routine. The dominatrix-style sessions we had enjoyed previously became rarer and, eventually ceased.

I am not sure whether she did it on purpose or not, but Katherine’s assistant had the habit of leaving important papers on her desk when she knew I would be tidying upstairs. I felt she did it as a way of taunting me about my former life, reminding me that Katherine was now something else: a fiction, less real now than Marta. How else could one explain printed emails for goodness sake! Most often they were emails from ‘Katherine’ to her, granting her privileges or roles within the company that elevated her yet higher.