Richard was sitting at the table. And then he wasn't.

His computer screen glowed at him, an Excel file showing last weeks projections that needed updating waited with an almost accusing air. He'd fudged the numbers a bit over the course of this project, and he'd need to fudge them a bit more. The little numbers in the toolbar clock read 11:35. His windows were dark, his little lamp with the beat up wine colored shade cast a soft yellow wash of light over the controlled chaos of papers, folders, pens and notes that was his desk. 

He could hear the cleaning crew conversing loudly in spanish as they moved from cube to cube outside his door, emptying bins and running their little manual sweepers over the tightly woven carpet. Someone laughed. 

Richard looked at his office door, then his screen, then the door, then the screen.  His forehead was wrinkled with confusion and a manic hope bloomed in his gut.  He checked his calendar: December 24.  The clock said that he'd already been to the party, but...

He kept picturing that face, those teeth.  It was far too vivid and well-remembered to be a dream or just chalked up to having a few too many at the party, so.... what?  Did he imagine it?  Was this what it felt like to lose one's mind? 

Rick got up and found his coat on the back of his door.  He put it on, made sure he had his belongings, and quickly left.  He needed to get home and go to bed, and hopefully things would look clearer in the morning.

When he reached the sidewalk he made a beeline for the cab stand.  The PATH was just not something for which he currently had the patience.  Richard jumped into the next available yellow car, gave the driver his Observer Highway address, and settled back into the leather seat and closed his eyes. 

Too crazy, he thought.  His head swam with imagery of dark rooms and tables, carved chairs and impossibly large sets of teeth.  He squeezed his eyes shut but the pictures in his head wouldn't go away. 

"Driver, forget Observer.  Take me to First and Monroe."  A drink.  He needed a drink before he called it a night. 

The Quiet Woman was busier than usual but Richard was a regular.  He made eye contact with John, the bartender, upon entering and had a black and tan waiting for him by the time he'd made his way to the bar.

"Shot of Turkey, too, John," Richard said.  "It's been that kind of night."

John raised an eyebrow, then poured the shot. "Sounds like. Quite a crowd tonight though." The glass glimmered in the light as it was placed before Richard on the bar. "You heading out to a party?" 

"Been to one, I think," Richard replied before taking the shot.  He winced as it went down and then chased it with the draught.  As he loosened his tie he continued. 

"I have had the strangest evening.  Either I'm going insane or..."  Not being able to come up with an alternative was chilling.

"Hey, it's Christmas Eve," John replied smiling as he poured another drink for a guy in a trendy leather neru jacket sitting next to Richard. "Everyone's going a little insane, you know?" 

"Yeah, I guess."  Just like that.  Richard thought of a dozen small expressions of varying degrees of wittiness - "ate something bad", "just the silly season", "too much stress", and so on.  Any or all of them would under normal circumstances be completely enabling towards sticking his head in the sand.  But something this time was very different.  Something was preventing him from just placing his hands over his ears, closing his eyes really tight, and screaming, 'LA LA LA LA LA THIS IS NOT HAPPENING I CAN'T HEAR YOU LA LA LA LA'

"So you going to visit family tomorrow?" he asked his bartender.

"I am," John replied, splorching some coke into some rum over ice. *Splorch*. That's the voice the liquid made as it fizzed out of the nozzle. It was kind of how RIchard's brain felt at the moment. 

Splorchy.

"Bringing the girlfriend along, and her kid." John said, placing the drink on a napkin in front of a trendy asian woman in her thirties. "We always have a blast. How about you?" 

"Nope," Richard answered as his brain, on a splorchy bit of autopilot, checked out the Asian woman.  She seemed to be of an age with him and was very attractive in that way he found all women attractive.  He tried to make eye contact with her while adding, "No travel plans in my future.  Just me, all by my lonesome."

"Nothing wrong with that either," John replied. "Sometimes a little alone time is fantastic during all the psycho-crazy of Christmas." The Asian woman thanked John for her drink and took a sip, her eye catching Richards in that random, just-looking-around way that people do in crowded places. 

Her gaze steadied and locked on his own, the drink still at her lips. It was like someone had pressed a 'pause' button on her. She was just...waiting. 

She hadn't scowled or rolled her eyes as usually happened and a brief surge of positiveness ran through Richard at the thought that he might actually have a chance with this one.  Although, he realized, she was just staring back.  Maybe she was still making up her mind.

"Merry Christmas," he offered up around the man in the neru.  "We're working on solving the world's problems with alcohol," he said with a smile, indicating himself and John.  "Come on over and help us out."

It wasn't the worst line he'd ever used by far, but it did elicit a snort from the bartender.

The pretty-ish Asian blinked, smiled tentatively, then gave a startled little laugh. "Yeah, that sounds ok,". Her words were heavily accented, but clear. She pushed back from her stool and came around neru jacket and sat on Richards left. "How are you?" 

"I'm a bit off, actually," he replied honestly with a chuckle, "but we're working on it.  I'm Rick."

"Oh," the woman replied, giving a slight nod of her head. She settled on the stool next to Richard and smiled again. "Hello Rick. I'm Ai." It was pronounced "A". Like the letter. "So good to see you." 

John had paused momentarily and was watching Richard like some new and rare species of wildlife. Even Neru guy shook his head slowly and sighed. Ai took another sip of her drink, but her eyes never left Richards face. She looked confused, more than anything. 

"Good to be seen," Richard replied.  He always said that.

"Are you okay?" he asked.  "You seem a little bit off yourself.  Anything I can maybe help you with?"  Back at my apartment, he added, fantasizing to himself.

Ai blinked again, smiling in a sort of tremulous way. "Ok. Let me pay for the drink and we can go." She fished around in her purse, a blush coloring her pale cheeks. "Ten dollars is ok, yes?" she asked John, who looked a bit surprised himself. "Only seven ma'am." 

"You keep the change," said Ai, closing up her purse and sliding down from the barstool. She was maybe all of five foot nothing and a half, in leather calf-high boots, black leggings, a gray woolen A frame skirt that went to her knees with a chocolate blouse. Her coat was a big pink thing, all fluff and down. She had a jaunty french beret, in houndstooth perched upon her dark, straight hair, and it was sitting slightly askew. 

"Thanks," John said, brows narrowed in the same confused way that Ai's were narrowed, despite the smile. 

"That was quick," muttered Neru jacket, a fifty something hipster wannabe, thin and grizzled and just a bit jealous, perhaps. 
"Uh...yeah..." Richard said in agreement.  That was awfully fast.  Usually he had to work pretty damn hard.  Hell, usually he got the scowl or rolled eyes.

"I guess every dog really does have his day," he said to nobody in particular.  With a knowliing smile carrying a hint of astonishment at John he said, "Have a great holiday," and walked out with Ai.

Both Neru jacket and John watched the pair leave the bar, Ai walking just behind Richard wearing that puzzled smile that made her look little girlish. As though she'd been told she was about to receive the best present ever. 

When they got to the street, Rick looked at her and wondered at the chances that he'd find someone to go home with tonight of all nights.  Maybe it was some sort of cosmic payback for the unexplained events he remembered so clearly.  In any event, he wasn't the sort to look a gift horse in the mouth.  He let his eyes run up and down her petite form and mentally undressed her, and imagined what she'd be like as a lover.  He'd had a lot of practice at that.

"So... Ai... Uh, I live this way.  How about a nightcap?  We can have a drink, get to know each other better..."  He figured, what the hell - so he went all-in and used a finger to brush a strand of her hair back behind her ear as he stepped in closer, hoping she'd kiss him.  "...and then who knows." 

She said nothing, just stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Snow fell around them, people flowed by, and Richard was kissing Ai on Christmas Eve in Hoboken. She tasted of cola and liquor, and her tongue was quick and furtive. She dropped back onto her heels and stared up at him, smiling. Confused, and smiling. 

Richard's excitement got the better of him.  "C'mon, let's go."

They walked quickly arm-in-arm as he led Ai a block down Newark Street to his apartment building's door.  He only lived on the second floor so they were up in his apartment lickety-split at which point she turned quickly, pushed him back against the door, and attacked him.  Richard was in heaven.  She was sexy and agressive and seductive all at the same time, like he'd always wanted.  The confusion was a somewhat added touch, but he wasn't complaining.

She started to undress him.  Off went his coat and then his tie.  "We'll use that later," she purred about the silk garment, eliciting a nervous giggle from the man.  Her hands ripped apart his dress shirt sending buttons flying everywhere.

"Oooh, pretty," she commented on something he felt move against his chest as she pawed at it a moment before moving on to undo his belt.  Richard's brow furrowed - he didn't wear neckla--

His hands flew from her sides to clutch at his neck where they found a delicate chain.  There was a pendant on the end and even before he could bring it to eye level he knew it was the passionate man.

"HOLY CRAP!" he yelled, causing her to back off for a moment looking even more confused than before.  Richard stood there in his open dress shirt and undone pants staring bug-eyed at the necklace.  It was true.   The room, the table, the evil smile - all true.

"What... what... He had to sit down before he fell down.  "Hold on... wait," he said to Ai who moved to stand over near the counter separating the kitchen from the social space of the apartment while he fell into the couch.  It had all been true, it had happened.  So what happened to the apocalypse?  Maybe it wasn't all true.  Maybe only parts of it.

The passionate man.  Rick studied it and remembered it had to do with some power he was supposed to have, a god-like power if Randerawl had spoken true.  The passionate man... no, he wasn't passionate.  He was affected.

Richard looked up at Ai and thought about what kind of power it might mean when something clicked.  The way she seemed to go along with whatever he said or thought, combined with her confusion... just maybe.

"Ai..."  He swallowed hard, nervous but growing less so.  "Ai, why did you come to my apartment?"

"You told me to come," Ai replied promptly. "You wanted me to have sex with you in your apartment." She blinked a couple of times. "Didn't you?" 

"Yeah... Yeah, but did you want to come," seemed a good follow-up question.  "Are you, you know, hot for me?"

"No," Ai replied again. Promptly. And calmly. "I am ashamed, and very scared, and I want to throw up. My fiancé is probably very worried right now." She kept looking at him, seemed to be unable to look anywhere else. "Why is that?" 

"Oh geez."  Rick stood up quickly and started to pace in front of his couch while Ai just stood and watched.  "I made her do it.  I freaking made her do it."  He paced furously back and forth, considering the implications and then he suddenly stopped and looked up.

"I made her do it," he said matter-of-factly, no longer worried.  "That's it."

Richard looked over at Ai, who was standing there calmly waiting for his next commands, spoken or otherwise.  Then he slowly sat down on the couch and consulted his moral compass regarding the thoughts he was having.  He then put that up against the day he'd had and then the life he'd had and Richard Lombardo came to a conclusion.  He leaned forward and spoke with his hands.

"Ai, I think you're mistaken," he said as he slowly gauged her reactions to his words.  "You are hot for me.  In fact, you find me more physically attractive than any man you've ever seen." 

The more he spoke, the easier it got and the more ideas he had.  "You're not ashamed about it and you're not scared.  You don't care about your fiance.  You just want me, desperately, and you'll do anything for the chance to please me."

A bit over the top, he thought as he sat back into the couch, but it ought to be a good test. 

"Oh," Ai said. She opened her purse, took out her buzzing cel phone and brought it to her ear. "I don't want you to call me ever again. You are repulsive to me. You never please me, and your family is embarrassing. If you come near me ever again, I will hurt myself and say you did it to cover for your homosexuality." This was said in a language Richard did not understand. Ai put the phone in her purse, set it on the floor, then removed her hat and set it on the purse. She studied Richard in a way no woman had ever looked at him before. Like he was a puzzle, a wonderful gift box full of drawers and nooks and hidden treasures that would make her every dream come true. It wasn't adoration, it was appreciation.

She walked towards him slowly, small quick hands deftly undoing her blouse, her skirt. These she left in puddles of cloth on his apartment floor as she climbed upon him and straddled him. "Let me show you something," she whispered into his ear, hands moving down into his lap. 

And then she showed him something.

A few hours later, Rick lay on his back in bed with the lovely Ai to his right.  She was spooned up against him with her arm draped across his chest, the smile of a content well-satisfied woman adorning her delicate face as she took a rest from her duties serving her master.  She felt incredibly honored to serve him, to give herself completely to him, body and soul.  He was the best lover she had ever had.  No other's manhood had filled her so completely or given her such ecstasy.  Sex with him felt ten times better than any sensations she'd had before, her erogenous zones ten times more sensitive.  She knew all of this to be true.  Her master had told her so.

Rick's not-so-delicate face held the stupid smile of a man who'd been given everything he'd ever wanted.  As his right arm gently stroked Ai's back he marvelled at what he was able to do.  Anything he desired was her instant command.  Every word he spoke was her reality.  There was no resistance or questioning.  He was completely in charge.

He'd tried to probe the depth of her submission by thinking of things she'd likely never do.   She had told him she'd never had anal sex but then she couldn't give up her back door fast enough at the thought that it might please him.  That wasn't really his thing but he did it anyway and she had loved it, despite the obvious pain.  After their first few rounds he had her join him in the shower and she delighted in the simple act of washing him.

Nothing seemed beyond the limits of his compulsions, and so he'd decided to get creative.  Rick had put on his bathrobe and knocked on the apartment next door.  Tom DiLaurenzio answered and Richard asked him to get his wallet and car keys and call home when he got to Miami.  He and his wife Denise were in their forties but were also one of those couples who were into fitness and outdoor activities.  Her dirty blonde hair held a few strands of grey and framed a narrow face just starting to line with age, but her body was still in amazing shape from the yoga and the bike riding and the God knew what else.

Richard's left arm gently stroked Denise's back as she spooned against him across from Ai, and he recalled how easily she'd been adjusted along the same lines as Ai had been.  He told them that they were bisexual and they were.  He told them they were hot for each other and they were.  He had them do things, to him, to each other, and they'd loved every carnal moment of it.

Rick's momentarily sated mind moved on to other things.  The applications of his power were limitless. Everything he'd always wanted but could never have was now just a thought away: women, money, power, were his for the taking.  Nothing was off limits.  The rules, the damned rules under which he'd lived as loser for so many wasted years, simply no longer applied to him. 

He started making a to-do list.  There were women, mainly co-workers he'd fantasized about during his workdays, who needed to be sampled.  A visit to a sorority house sounded like a fun idea.  Across the river, Manhattan was home to several modeling agencies and various celebrities.  It was also home to Wall Street and more money than he could ever spend.

A memory of a large wood table and five wood chairs wormed its way into his thoughts and his smile thinned out.  He did have incredible power but so did the others.  What were they doing right now?  Were they plotting against him?  Were they winning the game?

The game.  Yes, the game.  That was everything.  When it ended, so did he and his power - unless he won.  And even then there were no guarantees.  He needed a plan. 

The two women roused at his unspoken command.  Their eyes smiled at him seductively as they came together across his chest and started to make out.  Their hands sought him out underneath the sheets and lovingly stoked his ardor until he was ready.  They made trails of kisses down his torso until their mouths were in a position to take over for their hands.

The victorious smile returned to Richard's face.  He stared at his slowly rotating ceiling fan and began to hatch a plan.

Morning came and Richard awoke amidst the luxurious feel of soft feminine skin and hair on his body.  He smiled again and gave his playmates a squeeze before he sat up in bed.  The women woke, too, and moved off to the bathroom to do their thing.  When they returned, Richard had the start of his day figured out.

"Denise, go get dressed and then run down to the strip mall and get breakfast.  I'll take a pork roll, egg and cheese on an everything bagel and a Yoo Hoo and get for yourselves whatever you like.  While you're there, get as much cash as you can from the ATM."  He realized what day it was and added, "If the bagel place is closed just get the cash."

"A Yoo Hoo?" Denise asked as she began to dress. "Honey, do you know what's in those things? I'm only doing this because I love you, but you should seriously consider your health!" 

"Oh, I will," he assured her, knowing if what Randerawl said was true then he wouldn't have to worry about his diet at all.  "Now git," he added with a playful swat on her rump.

After Denise had left, Rick turned his attention to Ai.  "Are you employed?" he asked her.  "What do you do for a living?"

"I work at Bank of America," Ai replied slowly, arching her back so that her breasts rose seductively towards him. "I'm a teller." 

"That's so hot," Rick sighed.  He reached out with a hand and began to squeeze and caress those lovely offerings, gently letting his thumb brush her nipple.  Her reactions and facial expressions were delicious.

A bank employee could be very useful, he thought.  But bank comlpiance and control being what it was it wasn't as though he could just walk in and have them hand over the cash.  Sure, they'd do it, but he'd have the FBI on him in hours.

"Tell me about your family," he asked her next, "and give me an idea of their financial wherewithal."

"My family is in Korea, except for my brother," Ai replied. "They aren't very wealthy, I send them money when I can. My brother is an architect in the city. He makes good money, almost six figures now. My fiancé...." she stopped, then shook her head. "I should call my brother. He'll be worried." 

"Don't worry about that," he compelled her impatiently.  "Here, concentrate on this," he told her as he pulled the bunched up sheets out from between them and pulled her face into his lap.

Okay, he considered, bank employee but only a teller and not -- ooooh... -- much in the way of family wealth to be exploited.  Not to mention she -- aaaah --- worries too much about who's worried about her. 

Rick had thought about the issue of unintentional hangers-on from use of his powers and he wanted to make sure if he held anybody close that they were worth the effort.  Ai could sure put a smile on his face - she was doing a great job of melting his brain at the moment - but the city was rife with women who could do that and more.

He didn't try to hold back and let her finish him quickly.  When she was done cleaning him off and looked up at him wistfully he held her gaze and did what he knew he would have had to do eventually.  He leaned into it mentally, trying to make an extra effort to ensure he was obeyed.

"Ai, I want you to get dressed, put your coat on, get all of your things, and go back to the sidewalk out in front of the Quiet Woman.  When you get there you will forget everything that happened since you entered the pub last night.  You won't remember meeting me, or Denise, or being here, or doing anything with me or her.  You won't remember anything at all except walking through the doors of the pub when you arrived last night.  You will also not care about not remembering and will just chalk it up to... shit happening."

He sighed with sadness and caressed her pretty little Asian face with a finger.  "Go on."

Ai pouted, but did as she was told, making a little game of it and teasing him all the way. "I'll miss you," she said, blowing him a kiss from the door before closing it quietly behind her. 

Roughly five minutes later, Denise was back. She carried a brown bag the contents of which Rick knew well. Though how she'd managed to get ahold of his favorite roll on this day of all days was a mystery. "Where's Ai?" asked Denise as she handed Rick his Yoo Hoo. 

"Forget about Ai," he compelled her and she did. Standing in his bathrobe, he unwrapped his sandwich on the breakfast bar and asked, "How much cash were you able to get?"

"Two thousand dollars. That's our limit, you see. I wish I could have gotten more but it's Christmas." She tilted her head to the side. "I really should be getting ready to go to our sons. They'll be expecting us."

He nodded. This was becoming a recurring issue he'd have to learn to deal with.  "Dont worry about your sons.  You're into yoga, right?"

"Oh yes. And pilates." 

Rick took a bite of delicious cheesy egg goodness.  He gestured with his chin towards the center of the living area and said, "I already miss that hard body of yours.  Get your clothes off and perform some naked yoga for me."

"Certainly. Just let me get you your money and get out of these things." She handed Richard a wad of bills, pulled from a small but fashionable leather purse. Then efficiently pealed off her clothing, folding each item neatly as she took it off and making a little stack on the couch. 

He watched her go into a warrior pose.  The tension of her muscles was amazingly aesthetic and he appreciated her body in a different light apart from just sexually.  Her proportions were great, her 36-B's were still high and firm despite having given birth twice and he wondered if she'd had them done.  It really was a work of art.

"What do you and your husband do for a living?" he started, figuring he might as well explore his options with her.

"Tom is a broker," said Denise, balancing carefully on one foot. "He only works part time now, but we're very well off. I edit cook books from home for Better Homes and Gardens. Also several regional titles, mostly the Southwest. Some of the things people will eat is simply astounding," she breathed out slowly, eyes focused mostly inward, form damn near perfect. "What do you do, Richard?" 

"That's a good quesiton," he replied honestly.  "I used to do project management and operational support for a major financial clearing firm, but I'm thinking of making a career change."

He drank from his Yoo Hoo as she shifted into the warrior two pose and gracefully extended her arms outward to her front and back.  For an older broad she really was stunning. he thought, somewhat surprised that he'd only noticed now given they lived next door for the past year. 

"How much of your wealth is liquid?" he asked.  "If you needed cash, how much could you get inside of a week?"

She seemed to think about this as her hands rose, palm to palm, above her head. "Inside of a week, roughly five hundred thousand I should think." She gave him a sad look. "Tom is going to be so hurt by all this." 

"Tom is going to love what I have in mind," he countered.  "Trust me."

Five hundred thousand.  And that was just what was liquid.  Rick's mind swirled at the idea of possessing that much money.  What had seemed impossible only a day ago was now as easy as thinking.  He was going to be rich - not just rich, but crazy rich.  And powerful.  It made him feel giddy and he laughed.

And the more he thought about it, the more he considered how useful this couple might be to him.  Tom was a broker, so he knew other rich people who'd have just as much if not more money for him to control. And they would know others.  It would be like the branches of a tree that would nicely shape the foundation for his big idea.

It could really happen, he thought.  With the power at his control he might just be able to do everything he had in mind.  It excited him more powerfully than Viagra ever could.  He leered at Denise and thought it was about time he brought her more fully on board.

"Denise, please join me here on the couch."  Rick sat down and opened his bathrobe.  "Mount me."

She relaxed from her pose and obeyed promptly, padding over on her bare feet.  She placed one knee on either side of his hips and rested one hand on his shoulder while the other took him and guided him home.  Denise's mouth opened in closed-eyed ecstasy and she moaned as she sank down upon him fully, the commands he'd previously given her about how much more intensely her erogenous zones felt with him still holding.

"Get to work, slowly," he instructed her before explaining some ideas to her.  She ground downward to get every last bit of him and then began a slow rolling of her hips that caused her incredibly toned stomach to undulate sexily while it sent unbelievable jolts of pleasure to Richard's brain.  She let her head loll back and she released a primal sound of pleasure as Rick suddenly sucked one of her nipples into his mouth and twirled it with his tongue.

"Oh, God, you were made for being on top," he gasped bringing a wanton smile to Denise's face.  "Now look at me."

She complied, both hands resting on his shoulders as she worked him with her pilates-honed muscles.  They locked gazes and Denise felt herself being pulled deeply by her soul into Richard's brown eyes.

"I am your master," he began, speaking slowly but earnestly.  "You live to serve me and to help me achieve my goals.  Nothing is more important than obeying me and satisfying my wants, needs, and desires.  You will never lie to me or betray me or do anything to harm me."

He paused for a moment as she gave his member a squeeze and a swirl that made him grunt and stunned him momentarily.  He could see in her face that she was on the brink and he grabbed her breasts and gave them some attention which brought her orgasm crashing down upon her like a tidal wave and caused her to cry out, "Oh, Master!"  Her entire body quivvered strongly but she didn't stop working him.  He hadn't told her to.

Her use of the term gave Richard a powerful, heady feeling.  "Yes!  Oh, God, yes... " 

She rolled right from one orgasm into another, mouth agape at the incredible sensations, her lidded eyes still locked upon his. 

"You and Tom will be working for me, now," he rasped as she slowly drove him more and more insane.  "When he calls, you'll tell him to come home and then bring him straight to me.  When... When we finish this you'll call your sons and make an excuse as to why you can't be with them today but you'll never reveal our relationship to anyone unless I tell you first."

Denise was starting the climb up to number three when Richard decided he'd had enough.  "Do it, baby... take me there with you!"

She leaned forward and kissed him passionately while shifting from a rolling grind to a fast up and down rise and fall of her smooth ass.  She pumped him madly and squealed into his mouth as her climax overtook her.  Richard was only a second behind and he screamed triumphantly at the wonders of yoga.

Later, after Denise had left to go wash up and make her calls, Richard stood staring out his window at the building next door. He'd had more sex in the last twenty-four hours than he'd had in the last twenty-four weeks, and it had been GOOD. His little soldier however, had called for a time-out. 

Flurries swirled around outside, just beyond the glass, and he knew it would be cold as a witches tit in a brass bra out there. His apartment almost reeked of sex, but he found it a good smell. A powerful smell. "Well," said Randerawl, standing beside him, hands behind his back. "You've certainly started off with a 'bang'".

"Gah!"  Richard nearly leapt out of his skin. His heart was racing and all he could think about were Denise's admonitions about his diet until he realized who had started him so.

"Geez... Give a guy a little warning, will you?" he complained. 

"What... what... " Richard seemed at a loss.  "Whaaaat's going on?" he asked awkwardly.  His patron's sudden arrival had completely thrown him and set him ill at ease. "I didn't lose already, did I?"

"I'm afraid," Randerawl said sadly, still gazing out Richard's window, "that your chances of winning the Humanitarian of the Year award have now become quite slim,". He sighed hugely. "Still, I'm thinking your a lock for the Narcissistic Prick of the Millennium." He smiled. "Having fun are we, Caligula?"

"Just... Just figuring out what I can do," Rick answered somewhat defensively.  "So I had a little fun, so what?  I never claimed to be a paragon of virtue.

"You should know," he added.  "You picked me for this."

Randerawl's grin showed a little more teeth as he regarded his icon from the corner of his eye. "If you are it, own it. That's what I say." 

Richard visibly relaxed at Randy's acceptance of his approach to learning.  He guessed he shouldn't have been surprised given his patron's obvious tendencies, but realizing that only made him think that maybe something was wrong if he and Randy were thinking so alike.

"Okay, soooo why are you here?" Rick asked.  "Not that I mind, of course," he added nervously.

"Just checking in, just checking in," Randerawl replied. "Sorry about the nuclear holocaust thing. Sometimes I just can't help but fuck with people." He sighed again. "It's a character flaw I cherish deeply." He raised his hands to the glass of Rick's window and leaned forward, nose touching the pane, fingers splayed on either side of his face. His fingers rose and fell, rose and fell, starting with the index finger of his left hand and ending with the pinky of his right. Tappity tappity tap upon the glass, like a pianist warming up. "What are you going to do, Richard," he crooned, eyes staring out the glass at the building opposite them. 

Richard's breathing became heavier watching Randerawl.  Everything he did was a symphony of creepiness and gave Richard pause wondering what would happen if he ever angered that unnatural smile.  He took a deep breath and laid out the broad strokes that he worked out during his sleepless night.

"I'm going to use my neighbors to build a financial base.  The money is only a means to an end, though.  Once I'm rich I'll have access to people, important people, and I'll use them to get the power I need."

Randerawl nodded, forehead rubbing up and down against the glass of the windowpane. "That's good," he breathed. "Very good. Nice starting point." A pigeon smashed itself against the glass of Richard's window under Randerawls left hand, hitting the pane with a sickening *thump* before fluttering, broken, down to the sidewalk below. It left a little smudge of something on the glass, something oily and undefined. 

Randerawl leaned back and winked. "Well, I won't keep you. Just remember that the world is far more connected then you realize, so you must exercise caution. That's not to say you shouldn't belly up to the trough and dive in with both trotters," he reached out and pushed Richard's nose up with one slender pale finger, then released it. "But every piggie has a wolf he must fear. Remember that." 

Rick swallowed heavily, eyes wide.  "Wha...W-What's my wolf?" he asked softly.

"Are you asking me that as icon to power? Is this an official question?" Randerawl's lips closed over his teeth and he placed his hands together at his waist, palm to palm, fingers pointing downward. He looked like some perverted penitent at mass, his face a portrait of piety as played by the devil. 

That caught Richard up short.  He wrinkled his brow and said, "I didn't summon you.  I thought it was a freebie.  Umm..."

He thought about it.  Whatever it was that might be a danger to him was important information indeed, but Randy had already given him hints.  The world was very connected, he needed to exercise caution, but it shouldn't keep him from acting.  Maybe it had to do with the way Ai and Denise kept coming back to the people who might worry about them.  Maybe that was more important than he realized. 

"No," Rick replied to Randerawl's question with a slow shake of his head.  "I think I can read between the lines for now, but... There is something you can do to help me right now.  I mean officially, as my first request."

He took another deep breath and said, "I want you to give me names, pictures, and locations for the others, the others like me.  I can't act on my plan if I can't find them when I'm ready."

"Welllll," Randerawl said, still in that pose of pious impiety. "I could do that, lawks yes I could. But if I, or any of the powers, were to just hand out names and phone numbers like sweets to diabetics, then what would keep that pretty little cloud girl from striking your building with lightning until it was a glowing slag heap?" He coughed, delicately. "From several hundred miles away, no less." He shook his head. "No sah, we aren't allowed to identify you to each other. For that matter, the only people we powers know directly and can see are our icons." He pointed at the window, face and tone sorrowful. "She could be standing right outside your building, on your very street, farting hailstones and I wouldn't notice." 

"Shit!"  Richard looked down at the floor with a crooked finger across his lips, thinking.  "Okay.... okay... Well it sucks, but I'll have to deal with it."

He looked up at his patron and shrugged.  "No official request right now, then.  Just... just... thanks.  I mean, for picking me.  I don't think I realized how much my life before sucked until today.  So, thanks."

"Like calls to like, Dick," Randerawl said, piety fading away and being replaced with the teeth. "Just try not to get your throat slit this time, there's  a good boy." And he was gone. No puffs of smoke, no star trek beaming, just gone. 

Richard's hand rose unconsciously to his throat.  He turned and moved back to the window to furtively scan the street below for... wolves. 

"No time to get paranoid," he chided himself before he opened the window a few inches to let some fresh air in.  The cold air attacked him almost immediately but refreshingly.  Then it reached his bare feet and he shivered and then adjusted the window to being open just a crack before turning away.

His laptop was on the kitchen counter.  Rick flipped it open and once it was on he opened excel and started a new file.  He tried to remember everything about that fever dream and the others at the table, starting with names and descriptions.  He mumbled as he typed.

"Knox... icon of Graham... Chicago... tall... handsome... forties or fifties... brown eyes and hair... healing... Samuel... young... twenties... southerner... athlete... indestructible..."

By the time he was done he had an entire sheet almost filled.  A lot of the data was general and observatory and there was a woeful lack of specifics, but if the first part of his plan played out like he hoped then he'd have access to people who might be able to turn this data into something more useful.  Until then it was all he had.

Rick saved the file and brought up his company's project management software.  He started a new project file and spent a couple of minutes thinking of a name for it before typing  "Project Icons" and adding himself as project manager.  That would have to change, he realized.  He wasn't so much the PM now as the project owner, which raised the question as to personnel.  He needed to start assembling a team.

Clicking the "project team" tab brought up a roles and responsibilities matrix.  He had one name so far, Denise DiLaurenzio, and he entered her in under the role "Administrative Assistant".  Tom wasn't his yet but he would be soon, so he entered Tom under "finance/budget".  Tom would be the money man.

That left a lot of roles to fill, and Richard walked off to get showered and dressed and contemplate who he knew that might be a good fit for Team Icons.

When Denise returned Richard sat her down and tried to figure out what kind of situation he was dealing with with his neighbors.  Randerawl's words of caution about connections had him thinking while showering that he couldn't just pluck these people out of their lives without creating a bunch of awkward situations, and he couldn't just continue to use his power to fix things like a hammer drumming down every little nail that popped up.  Eventually it would catch up with him.

There was also her role on the project to consider.  Admin might be shooting too low for her, so he explained to her what his expectations were going to be for her and Tom moving forward and how they'd need to make it their focus for the forseeable future.  He explained that he saw her as playing the role of his administrative assistant who would accompany him everywhere and maintain his schedule and stuff like that. 

"Is that something you think you'd be good at?" he asked encouragingly.  "What other roles might your skill set suggest?"

"I'm sure I'd be able to manage this," Denise said, nodding. She thought for a moment, eyes focused inwards. "I don't think I should take on anything else. What you're trying to build will be very complex, and require several levels of communication and control. I think you need to file the paperwork for a few shell companies, our friend Monica can help you with that, and being your investment strategies with them. They'll have to be legitimate, but given the circumstances the more behind the scenes you are the better." 

"Oh, I agree," he replied with some nodding.  It sounded like Denise had some useful and pertinent experience and he was pleased with his good fortune. 

"Okay, so you're officially in charge of my 'book'.  But what about your current situation, though.  Who might notice when you quit editing to work for me full time?  Any family or friends who might have a problem with it?"

"Well, I have contractual obligations that I just can't drop dear, without people noticing. There's my editor, Jeffrey. And then there's the authors of the three books I'm working on right now. Let's see, that would be Marlena, Jayden and Sandra. My family and friends will just know i'm working on a super secret book, and they'll find it delicious and pester me about it, but that's ok." She waved a hand dismissively. "Especially since we're bringing Tom onboard." 

"Tell me all about Monica," Richard prodded.  "Is she an attorney?  Is she married?"

"She's our accountant. She's a lovely woman, and yes she's married. Has three wonderful children and the cutest little pug you've ever seen. Shotzie." 

Richard sighed inwardly, his hopes that Monica would be single and relatively unattached quickly dashed.  If she was really good, well, really good accountants were great things to have on your side.  He might be willing to make allowances for that.  He could always arrange for her husband and kids to take an extended trip... or something.

No, no, no, he chided himself.  That was exactly what he wanted to avoid.  Maybe if he brought her on board without alerting her family?  She better be worth it, he thought.

Tom called home from Miami that evening.  At Denise's urging her confused and road-weary husband left his car in long term parking at the airport and boarded the next flight for Newark.  He slept the entire flight and cab ride home and was greeted at the door by his lovely wife wearing nothing but a sultry lingerie ensemble.  She led him directly to the couch in their tastefully decorated living room where she sat him down, knelt in front of him, and purred for him to just lie back, close his eyes and relax while she undid his pants.

Several minutes into it, a groan from Denise and a sudden shift in her movements caused Tom to open his eyes.  To his horror he saw his next door neighbor kneeling behind his wife having just entered her and leering at him.   But just as quickly as the initial shock was an immediate need to keep calm and a heady realization that sharing his wife with his neighbor like this was the biggest turn-on he'd ever experienced.  His eyes were full of confusion and his forehead was a mass of wrinkles but they soon ironed out once his neighbor started speaking to him.

Richard pumped the man's wife as he walked through the same programming that he'd given Denise the night before while she had ridden him so well on his own couch.  Tom took it all in as gospel while his wife's fellatio kept him off balance and just like that he was the second member of the Richard Lombardo fan club.  They all came together.

Richard had left them with instructions to get some rest and tend to whatever needed tending.  By the time they came over to his place just after lunch Denise had given Tom a good understanding of what Rick's plans were and how they'd serve in the new organization.  Tom had come prepared with ideas as to how to fund the enterprise and which of his clients Richard might find it worthwhile to bring on board. 

To Rick's delight, Tom had also set up a meeting with Monica the accountant and a high-powered attorney he knew well named Dom Granado.  They'd be meeting at Dom's office in Brooklyn in the morning.  That suited Rick just fine as he had been cooped up in his apartment for nearly three days straight.  Getting out and about sounded pretty damn good.

They'd both also started the wheels turning to extract Denise as much as possible from her current work without causing too much drama.  Much of it was contractual and therefore sticky, but they had surprised him with the way in which they set about working to make him happy and anticipate his needs.  They honestly and truly existed to serve him.  It was nice.

"You've both done very well," he offered to them.  "Why don't you two go ahead and enjoy the rest of the day and I'll see you in the morning."

After the D's left to enjoy some quality time together and see to the details of their own lives, Richard decided that he needed to do the same.  He sat down on his couch and brought up his browser and treated himself to something mundane: paying his bills.  The resumption of something from his life before the apocalypse served to remind him how far afield he'd gotten from the person he was before he realized that he was different.  It also alerted him to how quickly and easily he'd been seduced by the power he now held over anybody, everybody.  

Meh, he thought.  If nothing else it had also reminded him how shitty his life had actually become before the change, and he frankly preferred being powerful to being a loser.  But, his patron's advice about caution still resonated in his skull.  Richard's eyes flitted over to the window where the stain from the now-dead pigeon marred the glass and he swallowed.  This is why you're going to pay your bills like you always do, he told himself.  Discretion saves lives, mainly your own.

The bills got paid.  He recalculated the bottom line in his bank account and felt that familiar stomach lurch every time he recalculated it after paying bills.  Then with a chuckle, he closed the browser tab for his bank account.  Money wasn't going to be a problem anymore.

Out of habit, Rick visited his Facebook account and found he had no tags so he idly flipped through his 'friends' and their posts.  So small, he thought as he read about their little problems and celebrations.  Every one of them he could fix with a little application of the mind whammy in the right direction.  Randy had been right.  He probably could do some good if he really wanted to.  But the more he thought about it the more it sounded like work.  He was done with work - at least, working for others. 

He moved on to the Drudge Report to get some news and found his brain coming back to the same pattern.  So many problems, so easily solved.  If he wanted to, he could probably walk up Capitol Hill and insist that those buffoons in Congress work together and do what needed to be done.  They'd balance the budget, solve the healthcare problem, whatever he wanted them to do.  Hell, he might even arrange a visit with the President and really get some shit done.

Rick realized he hadn't looked at his screen for a few minutes but had been lost in thought about taking over Washington D.C.  The implications would be staggering for both the world and for the game he was playing, but if he thought the DiLaurenzios had complicated lives to manage... Sheesh.  Maybe later - after he got Project Icons fully engaged.

He had moved on to his email and Rick saw that his sister had sent him a link for a YouTube video she claimed was 'miraculous'.  Paula wasn't in the habit of forwarding garbage so he clicked it and started to watch.  Some woman had gotten hurt.  There was blood everywhere and it looked like she'd lost her front teeth.  Makes certain things easier, he joked to himself.  Then a man stepped in to help her, some loony in a ski mask and sunglasses.

Richard's heart raced and his stomach churned as he watched the miracle happen.  The man was running away now, being chased by the camera, until he finally turned around and gave a name.

"Hamilton Wylie my hairy ass!" Richard exclaimed as the video ended.  He quickly checked the notes for the video.  It had been taken in Chicago. 

"I got you, you cocky son of a bitch," he mumbled as he brought up the file for Project Icons and added the link to Knox's tab of information.  In his head Rick replayed Randerawl's admonition and nodded his head, smiling.  Discretion can save lives.  Too bad Knox's patron hadn't offered the same advice.  Too bad for Knox.

Thankfully the D's were a two-car couple.  Denise drove a very comfortable Mercedes sedan and so they used it to get themselves to the Brooklyn office of Dominick A. Granado, Attorney At Law.  Tom explained as they went that Dom's firm wasn't a partnership, it was a one-man show, but it was also one of the most feared in New York City.  Dom didn't take the highest profile or the flashiest media-attracting cases mainly because he didn't have to.  Big, important cases found their way to him on pure reputation.

The office itself wasn't much.  The decor was somewhat old school but it was clean and polished, just like the myriad staff attorneys and paralegals occupying three floors of a brick-faced walkup.  The trio were led to a huge conference room with a massive oak table surrounded by very comfortable chairs.  The walls were bookcases, lined with stately collections of accumulated law.

Coffee was brought to them and they had just sat down when the big man himself walked in.  Dom Granado was all Brooklyn.  His tailored pinstripe suit was impeccable and perfectly pressed.  The diamond-studded cufflinks that held his starched stiff French cuffs closed glittered in the florescent lights.  Rick was surprised that the man didn't wear a tie.  Instead the top two buttons on the shirt were undone making just enough room to show off a thick gold necklace.  Richard was Italian enough to recognize the St. Jude's medal that hung on it.  The lawyer looked to be in his upper forties but worked hard to hide it.  His male pattern baldness was winning a battle of attrition for the man's head but Dom had grown his remaining hair long and had it brushed back to cover the bald spot. 

"Heyyy, Tommy, how you doin'?" he said with a big charming smile.  The men exchanged a hug and back slap.

"Hey, Dee.  How you doin', sweetheart, huh?"  Dom gave Denise a peck on the cheek and a smile.

"And this must be Richard, am I right?  Dom Granato, nice to meet you."  He offered his hand and Richard shook it.  Dom wore two thick gold rings on his right hand and Rick found himself trying to shake firmly while also not getting his fingers crushed.  It made him feel awkward and he wondered if the attorney was cagey enough to wear them on purpose just for that.

"Hi, everyone.  I'm not late, am I?"  Monica Mills had just walked into the conference room behind them and Rick turned around to check her out.  She was very short and rather heavy, but she carried it well.  Her breasts were huge for her height and her hair was very long and curly, with masses of rich brown curls hanging well past her shoulders.  Her eyes were large and brown and part of a face that might have been very attractive without the extra chins.  As Richard shook her hand he thought she looked like a fat version of Inara from Firefly.

"Let's take a load off, shall we?" Dom suggested and they all took places around the table, Dom at the head with Monica on his right and Tom on his left.  Richard took a seat next to Tom and Denise next to Monica. 

Dom was the first one to speak. He had a tendency to speak fast that was very New York.   "So, Rick, Tommy tells me you're in need of legal representation.  Maybe we could start with you giving us a little idea about yourself and why we're all here today."

"Sure, Dom," Richard replied, grateful that their host had made him the center of attention.  He met both Dom's and Monica's attentive stares and started right in.

"it's important that both you and Monica understand a few important things.  Nothing I'm going to say or do here is either unusual or shocking.  It's important to hear me out.  You trust me and like me.  It's important to always be fully truthful and honest with me, too.  Are we good so far?"

Monica smiled warmly and replied, "You bet."

Dom nodded in agreement and added, "I gotcha.  Go on."

"Okay... I'm going to be your most important client starting today.  Looking out for my better interests is now your foremost priority.  Don't disrupt your lives or current businesses any more than you have to but my needs come first, always.  You'll have to figure out how to manage this on your own.  Any problems with that?"

Dom and Monica thought about it until Dom finally said, "I'm between cases right now.  Something new just walked in the other day but it's still early enough that I can refer it to a friend.  I can shuffle my staff a bit, maybe hire a few more.  Shouldn't be too much of a problem to handle you full-time but we'd have to talk fees."

"I have a few clients I've been wanting to dump for years," Monica said.  "I can also claim early retirement and get rid of a bunch of others if I need to, but I agree with Dom.  This is going to be a big financial hit for me."

"I'll make sure that you are both very well rewarded for your efforts," Richard replied, setting them at ease.  "Lastly, I demand total discretion.  You are not to discuss me or my business with anybody unless you speak to me first.  Routine stuff isn't a problem but just keep my identity under your hat, okay?"

"Got it," Monica replied.

"Not a problem," Dom answered.  "Any staff I have handle any of this will be Chinese walled to the hilt."

Richard took a deep breath and relaxed.  So far so good.

"Your focus is on helping me with an organizational startup I'm calling Project Icons.  It's in the early planning stages but the goal is simple.  Somewhere out there, I don't know where, are four very important people.  I need to find them and I have very little to go on, mainly just first names and descriptions.  The project is all about finding these people.

"The way I see it I need three things.  First, Monica, you'll work with Tom and Dom to set up the project's legal and financial framework.  Nothing should be traceable back to me.  We need to be able to accept large contributions of money to the project in such a way that it doesn't draw a lot of attention. The last thing I need is the government poking around in my business.

"Second, we need to find these people.  I'm open to suggestions but I'm thinking bounty hunters, private detectives, and so on.  Money is no object.  I want the absolute best people money can buy.  Dom, I'm hoping you know of a good place to start."

"I know a guy," the lawyer confirmed with a nod. Monica looked up from the notes she was taking and just shrugged.

"I'll have to meet him," Richard said, "so that I can explain things."

"I'll set it up," said Dom. 

"Good."

"What will you be doing?" Monica asked.  "What's your role on the project?"

"I'm the man in charge," Richard explained to her and Dom.  "Denise will be my assistant.  You'll contact me through her, so make sure she has your contact information.  I want to be able to reach you twenty-four-seven."

They nodded again, taking it all in without resistance. 

"I'm going to work on the third thing.  Networking is going to be important.  I need to build a power base so while you guys are making sure the money and legal angles are covered I'm going to be working on meeting as many important people as I can.  You should think about the most important people you know and how I might be able to get some face time with them."

"That's easy," Dom chipped in.  "All you need to get face time with any politician is money.  Schumer, Cuomo, if the check's big enough they'll collect it in person."

Schumer... United States Senator Chuck Schumer... Having a US Senator working for the project opened up all kinds of doors, especially a powerful one like Schumer.  If he could use Schumer to get access to the Justice Department, or the FBI, or the NSA...

"Okay, then, that's definitely one of our goals.  We get enough cash together that we can offer a campaign donation big enough to compel a meeting.  Yeah..."

Richard was giddy but nervous.  People like senators played at a completely different level.  He'd have to be very careful.  Raising red flags with those people would be very, very bad.

"Okay, well, that's the plan," Richard concluded.  "Any questions?"

"Lets talk funding," Dom said, leaning back in his chair and regarding Richard through narrowed eyes. "I love you man, but I can't move the kinds of funds we're talking about around the firm without someone taking notice. We'll need at least 200k to start all of this. Who do I talk to for that?" 

Richard thought for a second and did some thinking out loud.  "In time, the project will be flush and you guys will get paid out of that.  But just starting out... I think we're going to have to rely on Tom here for the money."

He turned to Tom and said, "Eventually you'll get paid back like everyone else but the initial investment is going to have to come from you.  I know you have it so just make whatever arrangements you need to for an investment in the project."

Tom winced, but nodded. "I can get a check drawn up today then." 

Richard patted Tom on the shoulder.  "You'll get it back," he said, trying to be comforting. 

He looked at Monica.  She would have been really attractive if her face wasn't so fat, he thought.  Her lips were very full and she really did have a perfect mouth for...

She started to get out of her seat and Richard realized quickly what was happening.  "No, no... that's okay," he said to her quickly.  "Um, maybe later.  But for now, any questions about what you need to do?"

"No, I think I'm clear," Tom replied, rising to his feet. Tomorrow I'll check in at the bank, get that check cut for you Dom."

Dom nodded. "That would be fine. I've got a lot of staff out for the rest of this week, so I'll spend the next couple of days working with Tom and Monica to file the paperwork for the project. We'll update you through Denise." 

Monica consulted her phone, frowning down at it. "I'll need to make some calls, and cancel some plans I've made so I can be available." Her fingers moved over the iPhones glassy surface quickly. "Probably could meet around ten?" Dom and Tom both nodded. "I'll have the check by then." Tom said, Denise patting his leg in sympathy. "It'll be returned to us, hon. You heard Richard." He nodded and smiled weakly. 

After the meeting concluded, Richard and Denise dropped Tom off at home and headed over to the Jersey City offices of Richard's current employer.  Shepherd LLC was one of the largest financial clearinghouses in the world and had their own building at the Grove/Christopher junction.  The building had a garage atached and while they didn't have a parking space reserved for the day, the guard at the gate was only too happy to overlook the fact.

Rick saw several of his colleagues on his way up to his office.  They each looked upon him wondering where the odd confidence was coming from and who the pretty professional woman with him was.  He didn't stop to chat but instead walked right to his small office and closed the door.

"I have an idea," he said to Denise as he walked around to sit at his desk and log in.  It only took a few moments and he was searching for the Executive Committee page on the corporate wiki. 

"Okay, the meeting is at one o'clock, which gives us about two hours to kill."  He thought for a moment and then instructed his assistant, "Wait here."

Rick stepped out of his office and surveyed the low-walled cubes.  His eyes scanned about the people working and moving about until he found what he was looking for.  He walked down the row and stopped at a desk where a very pretty, very young brunette was studying a spreadsheet on her screen.

"Hi, Rosie," he said. 

"Hey, Rick," she said without turning her head.  "What's up?"

"Can I talk to you in my office?  It'll only take a minute."  Good idea, he thought to her.

"Sorry, Rick, I'm like super busy right now," she replied.  "Can it wait?"

Richard's brow furrowed and he stepped back in surprise.  That wasn't supposed to happen, he thought.  The first failure of his powers created a pit in his stomach.

"I, uh... I..."

"Look, I'll be done in a min--..."  Rosie turned her big expressive brown eyes towards Rick and she stopped in mid-sentence.  Her mouth went slightly slack and she was held transfixed. 

Rick noticed this and said weakly, "Uh, it'll only take a minute?"

"Okay."  That half-confused smile appeared on Rosie's face and she rose from her chair, smoothed her brown wool skirt with her hands, and started for his office.

Richard followed her wondering what had happened and it wasn't until they wre both in his office and he was closing and locking his door that he realized it had been the lack of eye contact.  He made a mental note to test that out in more detail, but for now it was playtime.

Denise was seated in the  chairs in front of his desk.  "Rosie, this is Denise."

"Hello," the young woman said to the older one.

"Rosie, look at me."  Once she had done so he fixed her with his gaze and said, "I want you to relax.  Nothing that happens in here is unusual or alarming."  That seemed a good starting point.

"Turn around slowly."  Rosie did as was asked and Rick checked her out shamelessly.  Rosie Martinez was twenty three according to the talk around the water cooler and she was gorgeous.  She had a bubble butt paired with a narrow waist and her breasts were very large for her frame.  She was a Latina brick shithouse.  Rick had watched her for the past year, sitting just outside his office, tempting him every day yet being completely unattainable... until now.

"Be completely honest," he said to her.  "Would you ever consider dating me?"

"No," she replied without hesitation.

"Why not?"

"Because you're as old as my father and you're constantly checking me out.  It's creepy."

Richard looked over at Denise, who just shrugged and nodded.

He sighed and turned back to the Latina.  "You don't think I'm creepy.  You think I'm sexy.  Come over here."

Rosie stepped up to Rick's desk chair and smiled down at him.  He reached around and groped her ass.  She let him and she enjoyed it as his thoughts desired.  Her breasts were in his face, hidden behind a loose-fitting white silk shirt.

"Take that off," he told her.  Rosie smiled and started to undo the buttons on her bouse.  He turned to Denise and said, "Isn't she hot?"

A couple of hours later, Rick, Denise, and Nicole O'Conner left his office.  Nicole was the sixth woman he'd invited into his office, a skinny red head from Market Data.  The three of them were tired but smiling as Nicole walked back to her desk and Rick and Denise made their way to the eighth floor and the executive boardroom.

The committee was in full swing when they quietly entered and took a set in the observer's section of chairs against the wall with the admins and minute-takers.  It was a closed meeting so it was no surprise when, at the next break in the conversation, CEO Ron Ashley asked Richard with annoyance if there was a reason for his being there.

"Yes, actually," Richard explained nervously.  The nervousness was something he always felt around the senior executives, a remnant of his old life he realized.  He stood and Denise gave his arm a reassuring squeeze before he moved to stand at a corner of the large table where he had line of sight to everyone.  His recent education on this limitation had been fortuitous, as this meeting might have gone very differently without it.

It wasn't hard getting everyone's attention as he was trespassing and represented a very unusual element at a meeting where the unusual was typically not done.  All the same he made a big clap with his hands to make sure nobody was checking a Blackberry, after which he said loudly, "Okay, everybody look right here and pay close attention."

He pointed with both hands at his eyes and one by one he saw that glazed expression take over each and every face as they fell under his spell.  One of the admins seated next to Denise, a grey-haired older woman with bad hair, was resolutely staring down at her pad while she took notes.  Denise took the woman's chin in her hand and turned her head towards Richard.  Her eyes glazed over just as she was starting to protest.

Half an hour later, Rick and Denise were riding an elevator down to the lobby.  With the help of the executive committee he had a well-earned promotion and a bump in salary to three hundred thousand per year, with a full year to be paid immediately as a bonus.  They would do all of the detail work in such a way so as to not raise any eyebrows internally - the managing directors of Human Resources and Legal/Compliance would see to that - and none of them would think it unusual or bad in any kind of way.  Quite the opposite, they all felt as though it was critical to keep him on board.  Of course none of them would care if he actually showed up to work each day.  Lastly, they were all soon to be Tom's newest clients with instructions to turn over all of their investments to him to manage including a nice fat ground-floor investment in Project Icons.

When they exited the building the sun hit Richard's face in all of its mid-day brilliance and he smiled up at it with closed eyes and paused, reveling in the moment.  The sensation of warmth on his face and warmth in his heart at finally ridding himself of his wage slave chains combined to make him feel ten feet tall.  Whatever he had done to gain Randy's attention, he was glad with all of his heart.

He turned and saw Denise watching him with a satisfied smile.  Seeing her master's wishes fulfilled was her greatest joy, and her face showed it.  He pulled her roughly to him and kissed her boldly right there on the sidewalk.  He let it go on for a few moments and then broke off, not caring who had stopped to giggle or cluck in disapproval at the public display of affection.

"Let's go into the City," he suggested to her with a devilish smile born of inspiration.  "It's time I found a bigger apartment."

(more to come)