Archive-name: Bondage/corass01.txt
Archive-author: Lindsay Crawford
Archive-title: Corporate Assets - or Welcome to L.A.)  1


To say that Sandra was not popular in the office was an
understatement. She was hated, despised. But she was also feared. She
had worked her way up in the corporation by knowing how to get rid of
people who stood in her way. She had learned that people needed to be put
in their place. She had fired more secretaries than anyone in the history
of the company. She had gotten rid of more co-workers than most companies
hire. She specialized in making things so unpleasant that few could stand
up to it. Secretaries were reduced to tears after a session with Sandra.
Co-workers exploded in rage at her treatment. Employes would go to their
bosses to complain, but nothing ever happened to Sandra, because Sandra was
efficient. Sandra made money for the company and as long as she did that
she was protected.

At 38, Sandra considered herself a success. She was the Vice President
of Marketing for a large real estate development corporation. She had a
house in the hills outside Los Angeles. She went to Europe every year on
vacation. She drove a new Mercedes. Her light brown, almost blonde, hair
was styled by the same stylist who did Linda Evans. Sandra was well known
among the exclusive stores which line Rodeo Drive. This is what Sandra was
thinking as she looked through a brochure for cosmetic surgery. She was
proud of her large breasts, but they might be in need of some help. She
hadn't been able to keep up her regime of exercise and her stomach was
bigger than she liked. Her hips had begun to spread, making her dresses
tight. In fact her big ass had become something of a topic of conversation
around the office. She was considering whether to have liposuction to take
care of these small imperfections when she looked up and saw her secretary,
Sheila. Sheila was 23 and bright. A recent college graduate, the attractive
woman was popular with her co-workers. All of this counted against her as
far as Sandra was concerned. If there were fatal sins in Sandra's eyes,
they were being too bright, too attractive and, worst yet, too popular.

Just seeing Sheila's youth and beauty set Sandra off. She called for
Sheila to come into her office and shut the door. "I think you may be the
worst secretary I've ever had," screamed Sandra. "I've tried to work with
you. I've given you every chance and you always screw things up!" Sheila
had heard about this little play. Sandra would call in her secretary and
berate her for 30 minutes a day. Sheila had only started to work so she
hadn't really seen Sandra in action. Sandra began shrieking at Sheila.
Suddenly no part of Sheila's life was immune from Sandra's stinging
criticism. Sheila was too slow with her work; she was sloppy; she didn't
dress good enough; she spent to much time gossiping; she spent too much
time socializing with her co-workers after hours. The tongue lashing was
vicious. It started with a memo that Sandra had dictated. Sheila had gotten
it word for word. Now Sandra was claiming it was all wrong. "I've had
enough of your incompetence. Get out of my sight. I'll call personnel and
order your final check. I want you out of the office in 5 minutes or I'm
calling security," ranted Sandra. Sheila was shocked. She had expected the
yelling but not to be fired just when she had bought a new car. She had
even asked Sandra if she was pleased with Sheila's work. Sandra knew Sheila
had bought the car on Sandra's assurance that everything was fine. "But
what about my car payments and my new apartment? What about my bills?"
asked Sheila in disbelief. "That's your problem," sneered Sandra. "You
should have done a better job, then you wouldn't be losing this one."
Sheila broke into tears and fled the office. 

She ran into the stairwell and sobbed. Others in the office had
noticed her as she ran covering her face. They joined her in the stairwell.
"So she got you too?" asked Cindy, another secretary. "Look it's not you,
it's her," consoled Tim. "She sick and cruel." "I wish there was something
that we could do to teach her a lesson," said Amy. "Well maybe there is,"
said Bob. "I think we've all had enough of this bitch. And I think I know
how to even the score." "What are you talking about?" they all asked at the
same time. Bob smiled," I know a few people from my days in construction
who might be willing to settle this debt for us." With that Bob left the
group and returned to his office. Within the hour he had made a number of
phone calls. At lunch the others in the office stopped by to find him
smiling. "What are you smiling about?" they wanted to know. "Ask me no
questions and I'll tell you no lies," is all Bob would say.

Sandra finished up some last minutes details on a campaign she was
supervising as five o'clock rolled around. She was pleased with the
campaign. She was more pleased to have gotten rid of that simpering idiot
Sheila. Maybe the next secretary would have some brains, but Sandra doubted
it. The next one would not be as good looking as Sheila. That was the
problem with these young girls, Sandra decided. They only worried about
their looks. Well, she had outlasted them all. No bimbo was going to get
her goat. The same for those asshole men who were always trying to get her
to sleep with them. Fuck them all, she thought as she packed up her
briefcase and locked her office door. She always locked her door, because
she knew that others in the office would go through her files looking for
something to damage her. She was too smart for that cheap shit. She took
the elevator down to the lobby and then took another elevator to the
parking garage.

She was thinking about her newly won personal parking space as she
made her way across the garage. There were lots of people trying to get
one, but she had beaten them all. She would always be smarter and tougher
than "them" and if they tried to fuck with her, they'd be sorry. As she
turned the corner near her parking slot, she saw that a beat-up white van
was stopped in the aisle. Its hood was up and two men were bent over the
engine. The van was directly behind Sandra's Mercedes. "Get that hunk of
junk out of the way. I'm in a hurry," she yelled at the two men. They
turned to look at her. One was tall and skinny, the other was short and
stocky. Both wore dirty jeans and T-shirts. Neither said anything or made a
move. Sandra strode up to them, "Didn't you hear me? I have an appointment.
A very important appointment. Move it you assholes!" Suddenly she was
grabbed from behind. A rough hand was clapped over her mouth. She was
turned and thrown down on the trunk of her car. She dropped her briefcase.
Swiftly, before she could even think. Her hands were roughly pulled behind
her back. She felt rough cord being used to tie her hands. Something was
slipped over her eyes. The rough hand was removed, but as she opened her
mouth to yell a gag was stuffed in it. Her legs were lifted off the ground
and her ankles were tied. She felt something come near her right ear.
"Yeah, you got a real important appointment, with us," said a raspy male
voice. 

Sandra was lifted by several hands. She felt herself being loaded into
 the van. It smelled of gasoline and sweat. The side door slid shut. The
engine roared to life and the van jerked forward. She was thrown from side
to side as the van made the sharp turns in the parking garage. Then a bump
and smooth road; They had left the garage. Sandra tried to scream through
her gag. She fought against the cords that bound her hands and feet. It was
no use, she was tied up like a sheep for slaughter.

(TO BE CONTIUNED)

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