Office Slave II

by J. W. McKenna

  El couldn't believe her ears. The embezzlement never happened? She was confused. “How could that be? I only got into this because what I did was so wrong. I knew it, he knew it—he had me trapped."

  "Right. He did. He should've called the police. Making you do...” she wrinkled her nose, “...certain sexual things in exchange for your alleged debt was wrong. Now he's in deep shit and you're going to come out OK."

  "What will happen to me?"

  "You mean, after you testify?” Moose shrugged. “I don't know.” She withheld a grimace when she thought of the circus El's life could become once she was free: Talk show offers, jokes, book deals—maybe a movie might even be made about her life. “I'm not sure you could work in your former profession—uh, I mean, CFO, not, you know, sex slave.” She added quickly when she saw El's confused expression.

  "Oh, that.” El nodded. She knew she had once been an accountant, but she didn't feel she could go back to that now. All she wanted to do was experience orgasms and do what Mr. Sawyer told her to do. It made her life simple.

  Betty leaned down and lifted El's chin up. “I'd like to know, between lawyer and client—meaning this will go no further—what you'd like to do, after this is over."

  "I don't know.” She couldn't think that far ahead. Her mind remained focused on what she was supposed to do in court. Testify against Mr. Sawyer, she had said. What did that mean, exactly? Would Mr. Sawyer go to jail?

  "Ms. Montrose?"

  "Call me Betty, dear."

  "What am I supposed to say, in court?"

  "You just tell the truth, that's all. Tell the court what happened and what Jack made you do."

  "You mean, I'm supposed to tell about the embezzlement? It was a lot of money.” She felt deep shame about it.

  "Yes. That will explain why you agreed to become Jack's sex slave in the beginning. That was illegal coercion in itself. But later, when he showed you that you'd paid off your debt, plus interest, that's when the jury will really sympathize with your predicament. I doubt they'll sympathize with Jack."

  "But I don't want to hurt him!"

  "After all he's done to you, you still want to protect him?"

  "He's been good to me.” She shifted her legs, feeling the gold ring rub against her pussy underneath her suit. She wished she could stand up and walk around, to let the ring do its magic on her clit.

  "I think you'll find you're mistaken,” Betty said. She looked at her watch. “Look, Franklin is waiting for us. Can I tell her you'll accept the deal? As your lawyer, I urge you to do it."

  El didn't know what to do. She didn't want to hurt Jack, but the chance to escape punishment for the theft seemed too good to be true. She also didn't want to make her lawyer angry—the woman so wanted her to take the deal. She grimaced. “Okay."

  "Good! Let's go tell her.” She rose and El followed her out. Betty rapped on the window set in the door to the ADA's office and it opened at once.

  Diane Franklin was seated behind her desk, but rose immediately when the two walked in. They swept past a young, dark, sharply dressed man that Betty knew to be Franklin's latest up-and-comer, Brian Something.

  Diane said nothing, merely waved them to a small conference table. Brian Something—Cicetti, Moose remembered suddenly—stood by the wall as the rest sat.

  "Well, what can I tell the DA?” Diane began.

  "Providing that nothing Ellen Sanchez says in court will be used against her in any past alleged crimes, we'll take the deal."

  Diane nodded and turned to El. “So you agree to testify without reservations?"

  El looked at Betty, who nodded. “Okay,” she said in a small voice. She wished Mr. Sawyer were here.

  "Good!” Diane said, nodding. “All charges will be dropped, once you show up to testify. Meanwhile, you'll be released on your own recognizance pending Sawyer's trial."

  "How long will that be, do you think?” Betty asked.

  "I'd say two months."

  "Will he be released on bail?"

  "I'm not sure. We're recommending no bail, but the judge might see it differently."

  "If he gets out, my client could be in danger."

  "You really think so?” Diane raised an eyebrow.

  "Better safe than sorry."

  "No,” El said at once. “He would never hurt me."

  Betty turned to her. “How can you be sure, after what he's already done?"

  "He hasn't hurt me. He's taken care of me."

  Diane pursed her lips. She turned to Betty. “I can offer her some protection. We could put her up in a hotel, with a policewoman."

  Betty nodded. “That will work for us. As you know, Ellen lived at the plant, or at Jack's house, so it's not like she has some place else to go."

  She rose to leave, but Diane held up a hand. “I'd also like to have Ellen examined by a psychiatrist. We'd like to know what kind of witness we've got."

  Betty nodded. “Very well. Who do you want to use?"

  "We've had success with Gerald Butler. You know him?"

  "Yes, I've heard of him. You set up the appointment and I'll have El there."

  Chapter Five

  Jack listened intently as his lawyer, Sam Keppel, outlined their strategy. They were sitting in a private room, just down the courtroom where Jack's preliminary hearing was about to begin. It was two days after his very public arrest. Jack had been kept in the county jail and he was anxious to get out.

  "Besides Gloria, they've got Ellen as a primary witness, so no doubt they're going to lay it on thick about how you abused her. So we're going to counter with the egregious theft that you so kindly did not report to the authorities. The statute of limitations is still open on that charge, you know. I suggest—"

  "No. I'm not going to file charges at this late date. Besides, she's paid off her debt to me.” He paused, trying to organize his thoughts. “But I also think you might misjudge El. I don't think she'll sink me. To tell you the truth, I think she liked being ... uh, with me."

  Keppel, a short man with a round, red face, stared in disbelief. “How can you say that? They've given her immunity! The DA is expecting her to sing like a canary."

  "Oh, she'll tell the truth, all right, but I don't think she'll lay it on thick. Because, you see, I think I understood her."

  "Yeah? What's that supposed to mean?"

  "That she likes it. She likes being under control—as long as she's protected, you understand. I never pushed her too far or had her do things that were abhorrent. I just led her where she wanted to go."

  "You led her where she wanted to go? Don't you mean where you wanted her to go?"

  Jack grinned. “Well, sure, it was a dream come true for me—and my workers and clients. But El fell into it so readily, it was like there was another woman in there, waiting to get out. I just found the right key."

  "The embezzlement."

  "Yeah. Once she felt trapped—prison or sex, she chose sex so willingly that I think she found her true self in it. That's why she didn't want to leave once she'd paid me back."

  "I'm not sure how we can use this in court."

  "Just make sure we have lots of men on the jury, OK?"

  A knock came at the door. A bailiff stuck his head in. “They're ready for you."

  Jack followed his lawyer out of the room and immediately was bathed in the bright lights of cameras. Flashes went off in his face as he stared at the floor, trying to see where Sam was going. Questions flew at him, which he ignored. They were no different then the ones they'd asked before, except one, which caught him off guard.

  "What's it like to have a sex slave?"

  Jack stopped and stared at the man who had asked the question. He could sense envy in the man's voice and wondered if that feeling might extend to the jury. He could only hope so. Sam tugged at his sleeve, so he turned and walked quickly into the courtroom.

  They sat at the left side table and Jack stole a glance at Diane Franklin and her second chair, Brian Cicetti. She was an attractive
woman, but right now her face was set like stone, eyes dark and flashing her disgust at the CEO. She was really going to enjoy this, he knew.

  "All rise."

  He stood with Sam and watched the judge enter and take his seat. Judge Roy Liming was an old, heavy-set black man with white curly hair set close to his scalp. He'd been on the bench for twenty-three years and probably had seen just about every crime that could be committed. His wire-rimmed glasses surrounded world-weary eyes and every one of his decisions seemed to weigh in the deep lines of his face.

  "You may be seated,” the bailiff said.

  The judge nodded to the clerk, who read from a document in front of her. “The People vs. Jack Sawyer. Compelling prostitution, theft of services, sexual imposition and sexual assault."

  "How do you plead?” The judge asked by rote.

  "Not guilty, your honor,” Jack said quickly.

  Diane was on her feet at once. “Your honor, we have a particularly heinous crime of sexual slavery here and we'd like to have the defendant remanded without bail."

  Sam jumped up. “Your honor! My client has been an upstanding member of this community and an employer of more than one hundred workers for many years. This is his first brush with the law—"

  "And what a doosey it is, counselor.” The judge scanned the document before him.

  "Your honor!"

  Judge Liming held up a hand. “Not to worry, counselor.” He turned to Diane. “Now, why are the People asking for no bail in this case?"

  "We feel the state's witnesses could be in danger if the defendant is allowed to roam freely, your honor—"

  "That's completely unnecessary! My client has no ill will toward any witness. In fact, I've heard that one of their witnesses is reluctant to even testify."

  Diane seemed beside herself. “Your honor, we've had to put the witness under protection at a safe location at considerable expense. We feel that—"

  "You don't feel a restraining order will be sufficient?"

  "No, your honor. This man faces prison if he's found guilty. We feel he's capable of anything if he's allowed out pending trial."

  "Your honor! Let's not impugn the defendant! He will obey the court's order."

  The judge turned to Sam. “If I issue a restraining order, will you make sure your client honors it?"

  "Of course, your honor! Mr. Sawyer has no intention—"

  "Got it, counselor.” He faced Diane. “Ms. Franklin, considering the charges, the state really has no basis for denying bail.” He raised his gavel before she could speak. “The defendant will come no closer than one-thousand yards from any witnesses the DA names or face immediate arrest and forfeiture of bail. Bail is set at two-hundred-fifty thousand dollars.” The gavel slammed down.

  * * * *

  El was escorted to the hotel by her lawyer and the young ADA, Cicetti. He told them that a policewoman would be meeting them there.

  "Here we are,” he said, arriving at Suite 266. “She'll be safe here.” He unlocked the door and waved the two women inside.

  El looked around at the room and thought it was not unlike her apartment. She frowned, realizing that she may never see her apartment again. They were standing in a two-room suite. The main room consisted of a couch, desk, TV, and a small kitchen area, separated by a door that led into a bedroom with a queen-sized bed. A small bath with shower lay behind another door near the closet.

  "What do you think?"

  "It will be fine,” Betty answered for both of them. She put her purse and briefcase down on the desk and walked around, taking in the place. El followed her like a puppy. She felt lost without someone telling her what to do.

  "We selected a room with a kitchen so you wouldn't have to eat out or have food brought up all the time,” Cicetti said. “If you don't want to cook—"

  "It will be fine,” Betty said dismissively.

  Cicetti got the hint. He looked at his watch. “The policewoman should be here any minute. You want me to wait with you?"

  "That won't be necessary. I'll stay and get things squared away."

  He nodded and left the two women alone. Betty locked and chained the door, then took Ellen by the hand and led her to the couch. “I need to talk to you about something Ellen. It's important."

  El looked up, fear in her eyes. “Yes?"

  "It's about the jewelry and the tattoo. I'd like to have them removed before the trial. Is that all right with you?"

  "But why?"

  Betty sighed. “Because those are all things Jack did to you against your will. They will need them as part of the prosecution exhibits."

  "I like them,” El said simply. She wanted to reach underneath and flip her heavy gold ring against her clit, but knew her attorney wouldn't like it. She hadn't had an orgasm in such a long time!

  "I know you do. You can keep them for now, if you really want to. But I'll want to take you to a shop to have them removed soon. And,” Betty grimaced. “I'm going to want to have some pictures taken of your tattoo. I'll make sure the photographer is careful not to show your, um, private parts. Okay?"

  El nodded, wishing this ordeal was all over with so she could go back to her job at the plant. She wondered if Mr. Sawyer would be mad at her.

  A knock sounded at the door. “That will be your policewoman,” Betty said, moving toward the entry. “You wait here."

  Betty checked through the peephole, then unlocked and unchained the door. A young policewoman with dark hair tied up in a bun under her cap stood there. “Hi. I'm Officer Reynolds. I've been sent—"

  "We know. Come in."

  The officer looked around, checking out the suite, making sure everything was secure. She went into the bedroom and checked out the bathroom before joining the two women in the outer room. Ignoring the lawyer, she sat down next to Ellen and put a hand on her forearm.

  "Hi, I'm Officer Tami Reynolds. I'll be keeping an eye on you for a few weeks."

  El smiled at her. She liked the woman immediately and she couldn't quite explain why. Perhaps it was her petite shape or her kindness toward her. “Okay,” she said. She eyed the gun in its shiny black holster.

  Moose stood up abruptly. “Well, I've got to get back. I have other clients I need to attend to. You'll be all right here, Ellen. I'll see you in the morning."

  She left and El noted that Officer Reynolds securely locked the door behind her. They were alone. She waited to be told what to do.

  "Well, are you hungry? Thirsty? We can have some supplies sent up."

  El shook her head. Tears came to her eyes.

  "What's wrong?” Tami came close and sat, her thigh touching El's.

  "I'm scared. I don't want any of this. I just want to go home."

  Tami put her arm around Ellen's shoulders and said, “It's all right. You'll be safe here—"

  "Everybody says that!” El said with surprising heat. “Mr. Sawyer would never hurt me. He loves me, in his own way."

  "Well, I don't know about that and it doesn't matter. I'm just here to make sure you testify at trial. If you're not in danger, that's great. We'll just talk and watch TV and have a nice time while we wait. Okay?"

  El shrugged. She didn't want to say what was really on her mind. She just wanted to feel loved again, like she had with Mr. Sawyer.

  Chapter Six

  Tami, now dressed in civilian clothes, escorted Ellen to Dr. Butler's office and sat with her while they waited. It had been five days since El had been moved into the hotel and they were slowly becoming better friends.

  "Don't worry, I hear Dr. Butler is a good guy. He'll treat you right,” the policewoman told her. She smiled and patted El's hand.

  El nodded nervously and whispered low, so the receptionist couldn't hear: “What if he thinks I'm crazy—will that affect what happens to me?"

  "He won't! That's silly talk. Just talk to him and don't worry."

  The receptionist looked up. “The doctor will see you now."

  El stood. Tami squeezed her hand and nodded her
encouragement. “I'll be right here when you come back out."

  She went in through the oak door that the receptionist indicated and found herself in a large, comfortable room containing a couch and an upholstered chair positioned near two walls full of books. On the other side of the room was a large desk. Behind the desk, a man sat writing something in a journal. He was dressed in a very expensive suit and had on a red power tie. His hair was almost completely gray, although he didn't appear to be older than his mid-fifties. He looked up, then stood.

  "Hi. I'm Dr. Butler, Ms. Sanchez. Please have a seat and make yourself comfortable."

  El went to the upholstered chair and sat. She squirmed uncomfortably as Tami had insisted she wear underwear. It had been so long since she'd worn them, they chaffed at her every move.

  The doctor walked over to her. She could feel his power as he loomed over her. “Would you feel more comfortable on the couch? It's entirely up to you."

  El felt she'd violated some patient-doctor protocol and immediately got up and reseated herself on the couch, her legs held tightly together.

  The doctor took the chair. “I can see you're nervous. Please don't be. This is going to be painless, I can assure you."

  El just nodded nervously and tried to smile. It came out cracked.

  Butler looked at a clipboard and read some information there. He nodded to himself and smiled at El. “It says here, you're to be a witness in a trial coming up soon. How do you feel about that?"

  "Terrified and worried."

  "Why?"

  "My boss is on trial. Mr. Sawyer has been good to me and I hate it that something I say might send him to prison."

  "What might you say?"

  El looked at him sharply and said nothing.

  "Don't worry, Ellen. May I call you Ellen?” When she nodded, he continued. “I work for the DA in this case. So we're on the same side. However, due to doctor-patient privilege, I cannot and will not divulge any deep secrets you might tell me. I would only tell the prosecutors broad strokes about your personality, your state of mind and your possible reaction to being on the witness stand."