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I picked up my phone and almost started dialing Kane’s phone number to give him a piece of my mind. But I stopped myself. With my luck, he’d get mad and extend my torture to three weeks. Staring at his name on the screen of my phone, I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders back. No, I wasn’t going to yell at him. It was just two more days. I could wait till Monday.
Ugh. Monday. Work was as sucky as it had always been and was getting worse. The rumors I’d heard circulating about me were ridiculous. I never went on Watercooler but Eileen and Mandy filled me in on every single post that had my name in it. There were a lot.
Some of my coworkers were still pissed that Simon was gone. Sloane was thrilled to tell whoever would listen that I was the reason he had been fired and that everyone should stay away from me if they wanted to keep their jobs. It shouldn’t have worked, but it did. Acquaintances I used to chat with in the elevator or at the coffee pot suddenly stopped seeing me and pretended I wasn’t there. Even Tony, the old security guard, stopped smiling at me. It was depressing.
At least I still had Eileen and Mandy, they came to visit me in my cubical everyday—although they wouldn’t acknowledge me as much when other coworkers were around. I was becoming isolated and lonely. So I threw myself into my work. I skipped lunches and breaks and just kept my eyes glued to the computer. Finding a few accounting errors and hunting down their origin became my obsession. I figured Linda, my manager, would be pleased with my devotion, but she frowned at me more and more and just complained that I used the bathroom too much.
I dropped my phone and started pacing around my apartment again. Occasionally the waistband of the chastity belt would bite into my skin. It wasn’t super painful, but at present it was rubbing me the wrong way. I ran a finger under the silicone but didn’t try to take it off. I wouldn’t. Thoughts of Kane rewarding me was the only thing that was keeping me sane. Well, sort of sane.
On Friday, Eileen poked her head over the cubical wall that separated us and told me about a new rumor on Watercooler. Grinning like a little girl, she explained that Sloane was now saying that I was fucking Kane, which was a lie because I wasn’t. I wasn’t fucking him or having any kind of sex at all—I wasn’t even having sex with myself. Lucky, lucky me. So much for my luck changing. Eileen thought the rumor was hilarious and ridiculous. I tried to laugh with her, but it was hard with the stupid chastity belt digging into my skin.
I’d wanted to get back at Sloane so many times and put her in her place, but I turned the other cheek and got on with my work. I’d noticed numerous financial inconsistencies when crosschecking several spreadsheets against databases and I wanted to dig until I got to the bottom of those. I was thankful my mind had been occupied with that for the rest of the day.
On the elevator ride down from the fifth floor at the end of the work day, Linda, who always seemed above office gossip had given me several weird looks and had said to be careful, and that if I ever needed to talk, her door was open. But I couldn’t bring myself to think of talking to her.
Linda seemed as straight-laced and as prudish as they came. What could I say to her? Kane locked me in a chastity belt, and last week I massaged his cum into my tits.
I’d told no one about Kane, not even my closest friends. They wouldn’t get it. Hell, I didn’t even know if I got it.
I hadn’t watched any porn all week, which was unusual, but what would be the point? I’d only frustrate myself even more.
I stopped pacing in front of the windows and watched the snow fall through the night air. It was clumping into the sidewalks now. Alright, no more feeling sorry for myself. Since it was Saturday night, and I was all alone. I decided to throw myself a pity party. I made myself a bag of microwave popcorn and mixed in a family size bag of peanut M&Ms. I also grabbed a bottle of chardonnay. I would comfort eat and drink my way out of my depression.
I wasn’t in the mood for a chick flick or romcom. I needed a mindless action movie with The Rock to help distract me from what I couldn’t have. Just as I was settling down to enjoy Dwayne Johnson’s biceps saving the world, the doorbell rang.
