Consequences

by Southern Gentleman

Copyright© 2005 by Southern Gentleman

Erotica Sex Story: There are consequences for every action we take. Even consequences for consequences.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Rape   Heterosexual   Rough   .

There are consequences for nearly everything you do. Or don't do, for that matter. You look at a girl who attracts you, but decide you are too shy to ask her out. Did you just miss out on your one and only? Or maybe you decide to download that new hit song by that band you really like. No problem, until the lawsuit arrives because you got caught. We all face consequences for our actions, and the consequences of the actions of others converge to lead us to decisions that will likewise have consequences on ourselves and others. And on it goes ad infinitum. I became a small part of one of these chain reactions.

It started with my grandfather. But let me start with some background. I was twenty-two years old, just out of college and working my first job. I was an accounting clerk with a large local company. My immediate boss was a thirty-two year old recent graduate named Nancy. I personally thought she was hot. Even after two children, she had a body that I thought was sexy. Her breasts appeared to be what I would call hand sized. Just right for cupping and squeezing. She was thin, but not too thin. The bottom line was that I thought she was sexy. Except she also could be a real bitch. She and I just did not seem able to get along. I couldn't do anything right it seemed and from my perspective she tended to be overly nit-picky. Probably your typical boss and employee relationship in that regard.

Now back to my grandfather. He lived about 600 miles north of us. He went into the hospital for some tests. Not supposed to be anything serious. It turns out though that it was. The family was called to come see him as they did not expect him to last long. I had a close relationship with him so I really wanted to go up. So I asked Nancy. She promptly told me no because it was month end and we had to get the financials out and she needed me to work some on Saturday. Events were thus set in motion whose consequences were at that time unimaginable to me.

Being the loyal employee I was, I spent the remainder of the week cursing Nancy and then showed up for work on Saturday. One lousy hour after getting to work, I was finished what I needed to do. I had rushed a bit to get it done, but I double checked everything and was sure all was in balance. There followed more cursing of Nancy on my way home. I was just a bit upset and I spent the better part of the weekend thinking of the many ways I would cuss her out on Monday morning. Looking back, I wish I would have, since so many things may have been different.

But Monday came and went without even a whimper from me about the whole thing. And then came black Thursday. It was lunchtime at work, but I was taking a late lunch that day. At least I was until Nancy called from her office into mine (a mere 10 to 15 feet) that she did not need me anymore. I wasn't sure what she meant, so I asked. What she meant was that she was firing me. Why? Because I had made a $2.00 error on Saturday that she claimed caused her several hours of work on Sunday to find. Well, I took it like a man. I knew I had rushed some on Saturday, partly out of anger at even having to be there, but I thought she was taking things a bit too far. Still, I knew she had wanted me gone ever since she had gotten there and now she had an excuse to get rid of me. I had given her the excuse she needed, flimsy as it was. But I accepted the consequence of my rushing on Saturday. And the whole way home I cursed Nancy.

I cursed her all the way to my grandfather's funeral. I cursed her all the way home. I lay awake at night thinking of all the ways I could get even with her. Slashing her tires kept coming to mind, but I kept rejecting that one as not being good enough. Besides, that seemed awfully juvenile. For the same reasons I rejected spray painting various names for her on her house, writing her a nasty letter and mooning her although my younger brother thought that to be a good one.

I knew though, that I had to do something. Each day was the same for me. My thoughts were focused on making her pay in some manner for what she did to me. Several times I drove by her office building, just looking to see if she were there, just hoping that maybe something would strike me as being the ideal way to get even with her. At night I couldn't sleep. I was putting all my energy into coming up with some idea and knew that until I did I would be obsessed with her. I kept hoping that maybe, just maybe, someone would slam their car into hers and rid the world forever of this woman who had wronged me.

I'm not totally sure when the thought first crossed my mind. Maybe it had been hidden there all along, waiting for my desperate need for doing something to recognize it. The idea may have germinated early on in my thought process and just not fully bloomed until that day I drove by the office and saw her standing by her car. My first thought was not of running over her, but was instead how sexy she was, for a bitch that is. From there I think the idea grew. I wanted to teach her a lesson and take pleasure from teaching her. I knew what I would do.

The next week was spent preparing. I gave no thought to the consequences of my planned action. But then, she probably did not think about the possibility of suffering consequences when she fired me. Besides, I knew my plan was fullproof. I knew she often worked late in the evenings. She would be alone in the same office from where she yelled at me that I was no longer needed. It would be easy. Especially if the company had not changed the locks. I still had my keys to the office, a small oversight on both my part and the company's part, but one I was now very grateful for. I collected everything I needed and kept it with me in the car at all times. I knew it was only a matter of time until she paid for what she had done.

I began driving by her office every evening after 6:00, hoping to see only her car parked in the lot. I knew eventually I would hit paydirt. I was right. On Thursday her car was the only one in the lot. I quickly pulled my car in and parked on the side of her car away from the road. I was sure anyone passing by would see only her car there. Next, I took off my glasses and pulled on a tight fitting ski mask. She had never known me not to wear my glasses. This would be only a small handicap to me since my sight was not so bad that I could not see what I was doing. I just would not be able to read. I was not planning to do any reading once I was inside, so I figured the glasses could go. Next came the gloves and a change into a brand new expendable pair of shoes. I certainly didn't want to leave any footprints that would be traceable back to me. I thought I had covered everything.

I walked cautiously to the door and quietly inserted and turned the key. The door unlocked. I was in. It was then that my nerves began to cause trouble. I realized that I was now at the point of no return. There would be and could be no going back from this moment on. I paused and thought about her, sitting at her desk, a sexy bitch who had the gall to fire me over a $2.00 error. Just that brief thought emboldened me to continue. I eased the door open, went in and locked it behind me.

Nancy's office was down the first corridor to my right, the third office on the right. The second office on the right had been where I worked. There was a doorway between the two. I intended to enter her office through this doorway, just as I had hundreds of other times. I readied the knife I had brought along. I really did not intend to use it. It was for effect only. If she resisted too much, I know I would have abandoned my plans and fled.

I slipped up to the door between the offices and could just barely see her sitting at her desk working on some papers. It was now or never. I burst quickly through the door brandishing my knife and yelling in the deepest voice I could for her to get down on the floor. She nearly fell off her chair as I obviously scared her quite well. She began to yell at me, asking what the meaning of this was. Then I think she realized that the thing in my hand was a knife. I pointed it at her and yelled, "I said, get down on the floor bitch or I'm gonna have to use this!" She quickly laid down on the floor.

She layed down on her stomach, so I figured that was as good a place to start as any. I pulled out a pair of handcuffs I had brought with me and handcuffed her hands around the leg of her desk. It was heavy enough that I knew she was not going to go anywhere. Besides, I didn't intend to leave her alone anyway. I went to her desk and got a pair of scissors and sitting on that cute ass of hers, I began to cut off her top. She vehemently began to protest, but I just told her to shut up or I would cut out her tongue to quiet her. After the top, I worked on pulling her skirt down. I stepped back and admired the view, which was admittedly quite nice. And I knew how to make it nicer.

 
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