The manager

“Excuse me…”

You turn to see the fitness center manager standing next to your treadmill.

“Yes?” you ask, out of breath.

“I need to see you in my office, please,” she requests, but it’s not a request. Her name badge says ‘Karen, General Manager’.

“Can I ask what this is about?” You ask after stepping off the treadmill.

“Your figure is distracting for the other gym goers,” she states.

Karen is wearing a business suit that is made to not give any hint of sexuality. She could have any kind of figure or none at all under those clothes.

“Okay, but I don’t see how that’s a problem…”

“Follow me,” she asks but it’s more like an order.

You shrug and follow her. Her office is a large open space with many awards for performance prominently displayed. She has a large solid desk and plenty of comfortable upholstered furniture for more casual meetings.

“Please, sit,” she gestures to the more casual upholstered furniture. She goes to her mini bar and pours a drink for herself and hands you a bottle of water. “I’d offer you one, but you’re pregnant,” she says of her brown liquor.

“Thank you…” you say, not correcting her. You drink the entire bottle in one go. Karen sits next to you with a smile.

“So you are almost due?” She asks, rubbing your belly without asking. “You look almost ready to pop,” she answers her own question. What a Karen. “You can get more comfortable; you’re sweating through your top!”

Karen grabs the hem of your bra and pulls it up and over your head after placing her drink on a side table. She uses a napkin to dab at your cleavage and then fondles your breasts when you don’t complain.

“Thank you, Karen. Why did you want to meet with me? Just to make me more comfortable?”