Security! Security! Part One
By Wanderer
My wife Janice leaves me in good hands.


This is adult material. Please do not read if you are under age 21 or laws in
your country forbid you to do so. Any similarity to actual persons, living or
dead, is unintentional and purely coincidental.

Earlier parts of this story are scattered all over the Wanderer bookshelf.
They should be read in the following order:

Who's In the Closet Now? (Parts 1, 2, and 3).

We're Back In the Closet Again (Parts 1 and 2).

The Engagement Party (Parts 1 to 5).

The Engagement Party-Epilogue (Parts 1 and 2).

The Engagement Party-Epilogue Two (Part 1).

My Big Deal Social Wedding.

Marriage Can Be Fun? (Parts 1 to 4).

The Board of Directors Meets My Wife.

The Executive Officers Meet My Wife.

Executive Officers Don't Get No Respect.

Security! Security! Part One

Copyright 2004 by Wanderer

My wife, Janice Witherington, in her role as president and chief executive
officer of the Witherington company, was obliged to frequently travel the
country and overseas to visit plants and to solve problems on the spot, and to
visit big customers for our company products. We had a large and effective
sales staff located throughout the world, but somehow our large customers
always would place larger orders with us if the president and CEO was the
co-signer on the bottom of the contract. Besides which they always seemed to
enjoy her unlimited expense account.

Janice was away so frequently on extended trips that she became concerned
about the security at the company. We had security guards and metal detectors
but because we had such a large work force at corporate headquarters we had to
use three entrances. We tried one entrance only but it would take an employee
thirty minutes to get through. Occasionally, if there was a problem at one of
the entrances, someone might get by without inspection. Usually it was a pizza
delivery man but we could never know for sure until we could track the person
down. We didn't have much money around, maybe just a couple million dollars in
petty cash here and there, but we were a Fortune 500 company so theft of
company proprietary information that could be sold to competitors, or even
kidnapping of key executives, either for their inside knowledge or just for
ransom, was always a cause for concern. And as the husband of the president
and CEO of the company there was special concern that I would be a lucrative
target for some nefarious villains.

So besides our regular security force Janice felt that some extra security on
the executive floor, the floor I was on, was called for. Someone
inconspicuous. Someone that would not be suspected of being a competent and
capable security person.

I thought what Janice would do would be to bring one of the security guards up
from the ground floor and place him by the elevator on our executive floor to
inspect anyone who got off at our level. But Janice had other ideas. "I'm
going to hire someone totally unknown in the company. I have been working with
a martial arts expert for the last five years who knows every aspect of every
defensive and every offensive art known to man and wants a career change. I'm
leaving Saturday for an overseas trip but that person will be sitting at the
desk outside your office Monday morning. Your present secretary has asked for
an overseas transfer to be with her family so there's no damage done. You'll
find Kate to be a very pleasant person. Very competent, too, I checked out her
abilities thoroughly. She was an executive secretary at another firm before
she went into the martial arts field so I think she can do both jobs, security
and secretary, very adequately.

Well, I had my doubts. A female to protect me and maybe the whole floor of
corporate executives? What were they going to do, give her an Uzzi submachine
gun? But I never argue with my wife. I always lose the arguments. I was
expecting some bland looking unattractive woman of maybe average height who
wouldn't be calling attention to herself but might be very capable in throwing
a karate chop or kicking someone in the balls. So you can imagine my shock
when I got off the executive elevator Monday morning to see this absolutely
gorgeous woman sitting at the desk in front of my office. I couldn't believe
it. I thought maybe she was a visitor, waiting for my arrival.

Imagine my surprise when the first words out of her mouth were "Good morning,
Mr. Witherington, I am your new executive assistant. My name is Kate Olson. I
have your coffee ready. Your wife Janice informed me as to just how you like
it."

Well, God bless my wife. Even though my wife was beautiful I knew I could sit
at my desk and enjoy looking at this woman all day. Then I understood. Who
would suspect a gorgeous woman like this of being an accomplished martial arts
expert? She was just too beautiful. She belonged in a beauty contest, not
sitting at my reception desk. No one would ever think she was there to protect
me from villainous villains.

As the Executive Vice President of North American Operations I would be a
particularly tempting target. Ms. Olson's job was to sit at her desk in front
of my office, looking demure and inoffensive, screening my visitors. But when
she stood up the jaws of my visitors would drop open. Being behind the desk
she just looked like a very pretty assistant, appropriate for an important
executive such as I was. Oh, those padded shoulders on her suit jacket might
be a little out of style, as opposed to the natural look currently in favor,
making her shoulders look a little too broad, but then she was so pretty it
was easy to overlook her lack of style. Nobody visiting our office realized it
wasn't padding in her jacket shoulders, it was all her. But when Kate stood up
visitors would begin to have doubts. Kate was 6'4" tall, but she just loved to
emphasize her height. She would wear four inch heels, bringing her up to 6'
8", so she just towered over our office visitors, and she just loved to push
the envelope. In my role as Director of North American Operations I received
many self-important visitors, but when Kate stood up she would take some of
the wind out of their sails. For the women, she would stand up, put her arm
around their shoulders in a motherly sort of way, and guide them into my
office. For the men, she would reach down and gently take their hand. Somewhat
inappropriate but highly effective. If the men were handsome and appealed to
her she might hold their hand and with her index finger tickle their palm.
"Right this way, Mr. Smith, please be seated. This is our executive vice
president, Mr. Frank Thomas-Witherington, in charge of North American
Operations. Can I do anything else for you?" she would ask, coquettishly. They
would turn in the chair and watch her retreating ass, the short skirt flapping
intriguingly around her massive thighs and her powerful calves flexing as she
used her provocative fashion model runway walk. Strangely, those powerful
looking calves never seemed to turn guys off, and even some of the women
executives visiting me kept their eyes glued to that wiggling butt as it moved
away out of my office.

We had placed Kate's desk in a strategic position so that she was never out of
sight of my visitors if they turned in their chair to watch her. I knew how to
take advantage of their distraction.

"Ready to sign the contract, Mr. Smith?" I would begin.

"Huh ... oh, sure ... yeah, yeah ... " they would say, without taking their
eyes off Ms. Olson.

I would put a pen in their sweaty fingers and guide their hand to the
signature line of the contract. "Sign right there, please," Mr. Smith, or Mr.
Jones, or Ms. Edwards, or whoever, they all reacted the same.

"Yeah, sure," was the response. It's amazing how people can sign their names
in a straight line without looking.

"Thanks for coming, Mr. Smith. Your first shipment will be on its way
tomorrow. Billing will be at the end of the month."

"What? Yeah, yeah, sure, anything's OK. Say, is your secretary out there
married?"

"Oh, yes," I lied. I didn't want her getting involved with any of our clients.
None of them knew that she was perfectly capable of breaking arms. In fact,
she enjoyed it, it appeared, and I didn't want her alienating any of our
customers. Besides, I didn't want some guy, or some female, for that matter,
stealing her away.

One morning Ms. Olson came into my office without my requesting her presence.
Before I could get a word out she went to each window that looks out on the
executive floor and closed the blinds. Then she locked my office door. I got
up and moved to the door. I whispered to her: "Are we in trouble?"

"Yes," she whispered back, "seventy-five kidnappers crashed the west door and
are on their way up here!"

"Oh my God!" I whispered. "What can we do?" I was trembling badly.

Kate moved to my chair and sat in it. "Come here," she ordered. "I've been
hired to protect you. That's my job. I won't let them get you."

I approached her, confused as to the safety procedure.

"I thought we were supposed to exit the building?" I whispered.

"It's too late," she whispered back. "They've taken over the stairways and all
the exits are blocked." Then she pulled my arm so that I wound up sitting on
her lap, her arms securely wrapped around my waist so that I couldn't move.

"I'll save you!" she whispered into my ear. I have to admit, as I came to rest
against her massive breasts as she pulled me tightly against her awesome body,
that I felt a wave of security flow through me. And why was that secure
feeling centered in my crotch?

But along with that feeling of security in my crotch I also have to admit that
I was plenty scared. We were trapped. My life was flashing before me. I
rapidly reviewed all my sins. I was up to age twelve when I had stolen a
dollar out of grandma's purse when I had a sudden brainstorm. "We should
hide," I whispered.

"You hide," she whispered, "I'll take their wrath."

"But where can I hide?" I muttered quietly.

"Why don't you get under the desk?" she suggested. "They'll break in and
they'll think I'm the only one here so they'll kill me and you'll be safe."

What a brave security guard, willing to sacrifice her own life for my safety.
I'm sure glad my wife Janice hired her to protect me.

Quickly I scurried under the desk, moving as far back as I could, and Ms.
Olson moved my chair that she was sitting on into the remaining space of the
chair well. Problem was, she's 6' 4" tall and her long legs were pressing me
solidly back into the wooden board that closed off the front of the desk from
view. My back was flush against the board and I had nothing I could do with my
arms except move them forward a little to relieve the pressure on my
shoulders. My arms finished up holding on to Kate's legs, specifically her
calves. I had been watching these calves for months now, since she was hired,
flexing as she walked away from me or towards me. They were so big it looked
to me like each one might be the size of my thigh. Curious, I touched one,
then both. They were solid masses of muscle, as hard as I had imagined them to
be. I could feel the bifurcation in the middle, and if we hadn't been in such
danger for our lives I would have gotten plenty excited.

But now Ms. Olson whispered down to me, "I hear voices. I think they're
coming!"

"Oh, no!" I moaned. "My God, is my life to end here in a hail of bullets?" I
began weeping and I laid my head on her lap, sobbing as she stroked my hair,
comforting me as best she could. My hands were now on her bare thighs as when
she sat down in my chair her short skirt had hiked up to her hips, and I could
feel her massive quadriceps move and flex as she prepared herself to repel any
invaders who broke in through the office door. Feeling the mass of each leg
was strangely comforting to me, and the more I stroked the less fear I felt.
Maybe it was the sexual libido being stirred up in me by the touch of those
powerful legs that I knew belonged to my ultra- feminine bodyguard arousing a
psychic energy in me, overcoming my fear of impending annihilation. If these
were to be my final moments then what better way to die than to give
appreciation and adoration to such an enticing part of the female anatomy as
long, curvaceous, graceful, muscular legs. I would die in the throes of amour,
maybe a pleasant way to go. I threw myself wholeheartedly into my last project
in life. I began to kiss those magnificent thighs, stroke those powerful
calves, kiss one thigh and then the other, moving towards Kate's womanhood.
Then this lovely Amazon helped me. She surrounded my head with her muscular
thighs, pulled my head deep within her femininity, and as she squeezed her
massive legs together, shutting off my oxygen so that darkness was descending
on me, I blessed her, she wanted me to be unconscious so that I would not know
the fear and terror of the assassination about to befall us. She would bravely
and alone sacrifice herself to the villainous crew descending on us,
determined to eliminate our virtuous lives.

Dimly, as blackness descended on me, I could feel her juices begin to flow
over my face. At last I had done a kind deed as I was about to expire. Perhaps
this one last act of unselfishness might get me through the Pearly Gates of
Heaven. I knew I had done well as her Amazonian body was shaking with
convulsions, whipping my head back and forth between her tightly clamped
thighs. As my consciousness faded I thought I heard laughter. Laughter? Had
she lost control of her senses? She had been given psychological tests before
being hired to determine her level of competence to face extreme danger.
Turned out she wasn't afraid of anything-anything! Laughter? Had I been had?
Now I was really miffed. Or muffed.

I wrenched my head out from between her powerful thighs and I pushed on her
knees to move the chair out of the chair well under the desk. Luckily, since
the chair was on casters I was able to move the chair back even with her
Amazonian body in it.

"What the hell is going on?" I yelled. "Is this all some kind of a joke? If it
is, you're fired!"

"Oh, don't be silly," Ms. Olson replied. "You can't fire me. What kind of
security would it be if you could fire anyone assigned to guard you until you
find that perfect little piece of ass that you could hump in your office all
day long? Listen, your wife knew all about your little affair with Joyce
Adams, the vice president in charge of engineering (See "Executive Vice
Presidents Don't Get No Respect" on the Wanderer bookshelf). Isn't she a cute
piece of ass? Your wife doesn't care who you see while she's away for weeks on
a business trip. She wants to keep you happy. She doesn't want you straying
into some bar and catching heaven knows what and passing it on to her. She
knows you're a horny dog, it's part of your male genetic makeup. She doesn't
know who Joyce is seeing on the side, so she gave me instructions. 'No more
Joyce' she said. You should have seen Joyce's face when she showed up that
first morning when I started here and she came for her regular 10:00a.m.
appointment with your body.

"'I'm here for my appointment with Mr. Franklin Thomas-Witherington' she said,
with an imperious, demanding tone to her voice. I made a big deal out of
looking in your appointment book. 'Oh, I'm sorry,' I said, 'but I don't see
your name in the book.'

"The shocked look on her face was priceless. 'Well, I'm going in anyway,' she
said.

"'I don't thiiinnnkkk so,' I said, and I stood up. Well, Joyce is about 5'6"
and I'm 6'8" in my high heels. It was hilarious, seeing her jaw drop and the
look on her face. She's never been back for one of your 'regular' appointments
again," Kate giggled. I wondered why I hadn't seen Joyce lately. I thought
maybe she just got too busy with work. Now I knew. I used to hate it when
Joyce would come into my office twice a day and take control of my body,
without even a "By your leave, sir." I felt she was showing a lack of respect
for my important position. But now that she couldn't have me I really missed
her. I guess you always want what you can't have. I mean, our French maid,
Alice, was there for me when I got home every night, and that was with the
approval of my wife Janice. But I'm a strong believer that variety is the
spice of life. I get bored easily. But Janice had addressed that issue, as
Kate was about to tell me.

"Before I agreed to take this job I needed to be sure of what I was getting
into. So I said to Janice, 'You can get any guy you want, you are the
beautiful, wealthy owner of a Fortune 500 company. So many guys on Wall Street
would jump at the chance. Why this guy, Frank?'

"'Well,' your wife said, and here I could see that she was blushing a little,
which I understand is uncharacteristic for her since nothing phases her,
'besides being handsome, tall, intelligent and funny, he has a unique ability
to satisfy my sexual desires. Many times. And in addition to his being
multi-orgasmic he also has an elongated tool which I don't believe is easy to
locate within the male species. You should see it. I think you would be
suitably impressed.' And now your wife started to blush even more," Kate
giggled. "Then Janice added," said Kate, "'I have him thoroughly trained now,
and I would hate to have to go through the entire training process with
another male. If I've had a bad day and I'm angry I am able to go home and
vent my rage. I don't beat up on the dog or the servant staff, I physically
dominate my husband. I will pull him over my knee and proceed to beat him. He
may shed tears at some point, I don't care. He knows his well-being
financially and socially depends on me. And I do love him. And he loves me. He
just knows I have some little idiosyncrasies and his status depends on my
being able to express them when the spirit moves me. So my husband Frank is
amenable to that. After all, it isn't that easy to become an executive vice
president someplace else. And who knows, if and when I get pregnant I might
put him in charge of the company for a few months,' your wife said."

Kate continued. "So I asked Janice 'isn't your brother next in line to be
president and CEO of the company? And how come he isn't president and CEO
already? I thought he was the oldest child in the family, and the man besides.
'Oh, that's a long story,' she said. 'Someday I may tell you. I know his
strongest desire in life is to lead the family company. I just didn't allow
him. But someday he may plan a family coup, she giggled, 'and I'll deal with
it then.'

"So I made myself a promise" Kate told me. "I'm going to view this uncommon
piece of apparatus that your wife is so proud of when the opportunity presents
itself. You see, I report only to your wife, the president and CEO of the
company. She wants to know what you're doing all day long, or better yet, who
you're doing all day long!" And now she broke down into uncontrollable
laughter."

Well," I said, indignation in my voice. "Are you going to tell her everything
if and when you do me?"

"Oh, that won't be necessary," Ms. Olson replied. "Your wife told me that
you're really horny, even for a guy. She said that if I could tell that you
were really needy I could take you. She doesn't care who you do, she just
doesn't want you doing everybody. She's concerned about any kind of disease
you might bring home. I've been thoroughly checked out by the company's
Medical Department." Damn my liberal minded wife!

"Still, I should have the choice. Me, not you!" I snapped.

"Why, because you're the man?" she scoffed. "I'm bigger, I'm stronger, I
choose, not you."

"I don't know that you're that strong. I've studied karate, you know," I said.

Hearing that, Ms. Olson pulled me out of the confined space I was still hiding
in, and with her amazing strength she lifted me up onto her lap and swung her
feet up onto the desk just like some big shot executive, or like me. That slid
me towards her so that I came to rest against her massive chest.

"She says, "This morning I was bored out of my skull. I just wanted some fun."
She had me tightly gripped with both her arms around my waist, crushing me to
her so that any effort to escape would have been futile. In my frantic
struggling my left hand pushed up against her very firm and very massive right
breast while she had my right hand trapped between her body and her left
breast. "Ooohhh, that feels good" she said, "do it some more!" I was just
getting into it when what should happen but my 11a.m. appointment shows up on
the floor. Damn! Kate gets up, dumping me on the floor, smoothes down her
skirt, and says, "See you soon, honey," with a provocative glance over her
right shoulder as she saunters out the door of my office, her pert sexy ass
wiggling all the way. Damn! It was really hard to hide my erection between my
legs as my next appointment got ushered into my office! But it didn't really
matter. My next business appointment had her eyes solidly glued to Kate's
backside as Kate left my office, also giving my business appointment that same
provocative glance over her shoulder that she had just given me. Double damn!
I think I'm jealous!