The Southeast Asia Presentation

“I just can’t help but feel like everyone has it wrong,” he told her, as he looked up into her loving eyes.  “It’s like everyone out there is doing everything they can to be UNhappy.”

“No argument from me on that,” she replied.  Her brow furrowed in the way that told him she was deep in thought before she asked, “What makes us so different?”

“Other than the earth-shattering orgasms?” he asked with a sly smile.

“Well, that might be a big part of it, huh?” she laughed.

He got out of bed, showered, and got dressed for work.  He was a little nervous about his presentation before the board, but felt prepared.  He grabbed his best suit, and saw that she had it pressed for him the day before.  She was always doing things like that for him.  He buttoned up the suit jacket and got ready to leave.  He grabbed a scone she had made, and his coffee in his commuter mug, and gave her a passionate kiss before asking, “What is on your agenda today?”

“I need to handle this dispute with the city over the easement area.  If they fuck up my garden with their stupid fucking trucks, I am suing.  They need to stick to the access road and they know it!” she finished, trying not to get aggravated.

“Grrrrrr!  Fuck yeah!  Go get ’em!  Damn you’re hot when you’re about to get shit done!  I can’t wait to get home to you later this evening and we can get something else done, if ya know what I’m sayin’,” he winked.

“You have no game!’ she laughed, “Get to work and go get us that money.  There are some new toys for our collection that I have my eye on.”

“Mmmmm!” he smiled, as he smacked her ass on his way out of the door.

“Drive safe!” she called out to him.  “I owe you a smack on the ass!”

“Can’t wait!” he called back from the car, beaming from ear to ear.

She walked back into the house as he backed out of the driveway.  She felt peaceful in her shower, ready for a great day.  She even sang along with her favorite “bad bitch” songs to gear up for her sparring match with the city.  She was dancing around to the music, when she slipped on a piece of soap and fell to the bottom of the tub with a hard thud.

Meanwhile, he was pulling into the parking garage of the office building that housed his company’s headquarters.  An Executive Vice President in charge of Logistics, he was due to give a presentation to the Board of Directors about the potential benefits of expanding into the difficult Southeast Asian market.  He believed that while risky, economic factors were perfectly set-up for a consumer boom not seen since the US after World War II.  If he could get the board to invest, and it paid off the way he knew it would, he was certain that he would be the top candidate for CEO when Stevenson took his golden parachute at the end of the next fiscal year.

The first thing she felt was her head pounding.  She opened her eyes, but could not see anything.  Her mind began to race.  She wondered if she had knocked herself blind.  She felt something over her eyes, and realized that she was not blind, but blindfolded.  Then the panic really set in.  She tried to get up to run, but realized she was tied down.  She was no longer in a tub, she was tied to a bed!

The presentation was a slam-dunk.  The President of the Board had been interested in pushing into Southeast Asia for some time, but lacked the data and solid research to convince everyone else to go along.  His work was exactly what they needed to forge ahead.

“Don’t be afraid,” the voice told her.  “I don’t want to hurt you very much,” he added.

She felt the light touch of fingertips on her thigh and tried to thrash around.  It was of no use with the ties holding her down.  The touch was familiar, and although unwelcome, it caused her skin to tingle and she felt a slight shiver.

He noticed.

“Good girl,” he told her, “I happen to know he won’t mind.”

“What?!?” she exclaimed.

“You have a good security system, you lock doors.  Do you think I am here by accident?”

“What are you saying?” she asked the unknown man.

“Your husband wants this for you.  He says you deserve it.  How is your head?  That fall you took wasn’t part of the plan.  I will admit it was nice that you couldn’t fight back, however,” he said an instant before he put his hand over her heart.

“My head is fine, but do you really think this will work?  Won’t they realize?” she asked her husband.

“If they realize, then our clone-bots don’t deserve a place in the Southeast Asian robotics markets.  Besides, it took you a bit, didn’t it?  Now, wanna keep playing, or does your head hurt too bad?”

 

 

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Author: Josh Wrenn

Cancer survivor, wanna-be artist, musician, author, and all around good guy.

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