The
Start of Another Week
After working through
the issue of Carter's cleaning compulsion on Monday morning, everything went fairly smooth for them. It was a little tricky for Georgia since she
did not want to lose a good house cleaner, but on
the other hand, she needed Carter to do his normal morning routine so
that he could get up and get ready to go to work. And it was not as simple as saying to him to
quit cleaning. If she did that then he
would not bother to clean his teeth, hands, or take a shower. It reminded her of an old comedy routine she
had heard about children taking a bath.
You have to tell them everything the comic had said or else they just
wander around in the tub. That first
morning she found that was what she had to do.
She had to tell Carter each specific thing he was to do in order for her
to get him out the door and ready for his workday.
She knew that was
going to be hassle she did not want every day for the rest of her life and so
at lunch, on Monday she sat down and began making a list of routine morning
activities. As she started going through
the list she realized that she would need Carter's input since she did not
follow him into the bathroom to observe every single thing he did and in what
order. The answer came to her however
that she needed to give the list to Carter and order him to fill out any
missing gaps she might have.
The day went quickly
and soon it was time to go home, but as she was walking past her bosses' office
he stepped out and stopped her.
"Georgia would you step into my office for a moment?" He
asked.
"Sure Mr.
Waverly, what can I do for you?"
"Step over
behind my desk and take a look at the attachments to an email I received
today."
Having no idea what
he was getting at Georgia followed his instructions. What she saw on his computer was a full-screen shot of her as she was dressed
Saturday evening.
"It is a nice
shot, wouldn't you say?" He asked.
"Where in the
hell did you get that picture?"
Georgia demanded.
"Oh, that is only one of a whole album. I guess the question is why did you allow
them to be taken in the first place? You
do realize that you have a morals clause in your contract, right?"
"And you realize
that there are laws against blackmail?"
She shot back at him.
"Who said
anything about blackmail. I am just
showing you some pictures that could be cause for your dismissal from your
employment."
"And?" Georgia waited.
"Maybe if I knew
more about these pictures I could let it slide.
Why don't you tell me why an intelligent woman such as yourself would
allow someone to tie her hands behind her back, wrap her breasts so that they
look like they might burst and then take pictures of her? I imagine that your breasts must have been
badly bruised. Perhaps if you were to
show me how they look now, I would have a better understanding."
"Are you asking
to see my breasts?" Georgia asked
incredulously.
"Only to help me
understand these pictures better," He said with a smile.
And then she felt his
arms surround her as he pulled her back against his body. Her arms were pinned tightly and so when his
fingers started working on the buttons of her satin blouse she was unable to
physically stop him. He had three buttons
undone before she started to seriously struggle but that only seemed to make
him more intent on his target. Instead
of bothering with each of the last five buttons he grabbed bother sides of her
blouse and forcefully pulled it apart sending buttons to all corners of the
room. And then his hands were on her
breasts pulling them roughly out of their satin encasements. No matter how hard Georgia struggled she was
unable to break free and so she finally allowed her body to go completely
limp. Waverly took that as a sign of
surrender and so he loosened his grip and started to spin her around so that he
could get a better look at her magnificent globes. His eyes were starting to light up with joy
when her heel came down solidly on the
top of his instep. If she had been
wearing the heels in the picture she surely would have broken several bones in
his foot. As it were he screamed in pain
and began hopping about on his good foot while holding onto the damaged one
with his hands.
Georgia used the
opportunity to readjust her breasts back into her bra and pull her blouse back
together the best she could as she backed towards the door.
Waverly had regained
some of his composure by the time she was turning the knob to open the
door. "You fucking whore, you are going
to regret this."
Georgia did not wait
for the rest of his tirade as she slipped out of the door and headed for the
elevators. It wasn't until she had
vacated the building and was seated behind the wheel of her car that small
tears began to make their way down her
face from the corners of her eyes. She
had two choices; she could either sit here and feel sorry for herself or she
could find out who caused the problem and make them sorry. As she sat there she tried to figure out
how Waverly had received those pictures and why they were sent to him. Her first thought was that Amara was somehow
involved but although she had lured her into contact with Luther she still did
not believe that Amara really wanted to cause her harm. Luther, on the
other hand, was a total enigma.
She could certainly see him do something to make her suffer but more
than likely he would do it in person, not
through someone like Waverly. But as she
reasoned on it those were the only two possibilities. She had not even had any contact with anyone
else at the club except for the driver and what would he have to gain? Another possibility popped into her
mind. "What about the cop that had
taken her to the police station or the detective that had interviewed her? But again she had to ask herself what would
their motives be? Perhaps because she
had disappeared from a locked room they would be seeking revenge, but surely
having her arrested for escape would be more likely the course of action they
would take.
She could feel the presence
in her car. It was like a slight draft
coming from a very cold place. She
turned to inspect the windows but did not see any crack where one might be
slightly down. She had not started the
engine and so she knew it could not be coming from the vents. She turned so that she could check the
backseat but that appeared to be empty as well.
"Okay, Luther, I know you are here.
You might as well show yourself."
And there he was sitting in the front passenger's seat.
"I thought you
were never going to invite me to the party," He said.
"What party is
that?"
"Why the pity
party of course. I thought you were just
going to sit and feel sorry for yourself for the rest of the evening."
"Give me a break
Luther. Why don't you tell me about the
pictures that were sent to Waverly?"
"And what makes
you think that I know anything about any pictures being sent to your
boss?"
"Well, for one thing, they were taken sometime Saturday
night. And since I had my hands bound
behind my back at the time, I know that I didn't take them. And since Amara's hands were also restrained
at the time she could not have taken them either. So that leaves you, the driver or the
cops."
"So you believe
those are the only three possibilities?
There could not have been someone else at the club that might have taken
the pictures or someone on the street when the policeman took you to the car or
someone else with a camera phone in the police station?"
"Sure any of
those things could have happened. But
what is the chance that random person also knew my bosses' email address and
had a reason to send those pictures to him?"
"I guess you
would have to ask yourself, who did know his email address. I assume there are not a lot of people
including me. I assume you know what it
is. Where do you store that
information? Is it just in your head or
is it written down someplace?"
Georgia sat for a few
seconds mulling his question over in her mind.
And then it dawned on her.
"His email address is stored in my phone. So that again leads right back to you doesn't
it Luther? You could have easily gained
access to my phone once I was trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey."
"You seem to be
convinced that I might have sent some pictures to your boss. I imagine that you would not believe me if I
simply stated to you that I didn't send them?
So I am not going to deny anything.
I would ask you though what my motive might be."
"You made it
quite plain that you wanted me to submit to you the same way that Amara
had. So perhaps you were thinking that
if I lost my job I might have nowhere else to turn."
"Oh, I have far more faith in you than
that. First
of all, why would you lose your job?
Certainly you can deal with the likes of Waverly." And secondly,
I am sure that if you did lose this job you would have another one before the
week was out. So why don't you quit
worrying about who sent the pictures and start figuring out what you are going
to do about them?"
"I was thinking
that the two things were connected."
"Think about it,"
Luther said. "Assume that I
sent the pictures to Waverly, how does that help you? Or assume that one of the cops sent the
pictures to Waverly, how does that help you?
It seems to me that the problem is not who sent the pictures but the
pictures themselves and of course what Waverly plans to do with them."
"So, then what
do you suggest I do? I can't just walk
back in there and demand that Waverly delete
the pictures from his email."
"Why not?"
"Because he
would just laugh at me that's why."
"You really have
not been paying attention to the events of the last few days have you? What do you think your husband is doing right
about now?"
"I have no
idea. What does my husband have to do
with any of this?"
"Think about
it. I think you know exactly what he is
doing. And then you need to think of why
he is doing it."
Georgia sat and
contemplated what Luther was trying to tell her. She thought back to the previous evening when
she had arrived home to find her otherwise macho husband wearing a pair of her
panties and cleaning her kitchen cupboards.
She knew that she had
to figure out exactly why the change had taken place in her husband's attitude
so she turned the key in the ignition and put the car in drive. Only then did she notice that the passenger's
seat was again empty. "Jesus, I
don't know how he does that." She
thought to herself.
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