Pamela, Office Manager - Email attachment

[Content Warning: Pee & Ass-To-Mouth]

I step out of my comfy private office to address the floor. The five men who work for me all turn to see what I have to say.

"As a reminder, Michael Banks, the owner of this company, will be arriving for his visit soon. I expect you all to be on your best behaviour."

This rotten bunch have been an absolute nightmare to manage. I know they call me a bitch behind my back, but from my perspective, part of my role involves keeping things in this office completely professional at all times. That includes monitoring their every activity, checking they're not sending each other inappropriate emails, and so on. They call it an invasion of privacy, but technically I can do what I like, it's company-owned equipment after all.

I've been recording and listening to all their phone calls, too. I revealed that showstopper to them this morning. They didn't seem very happy about that, but I bet Alan will think again before using his business devices for phone sex with his girlfriend.

Still, I'm concerned they're going to try to humiliate me today. I just don't know how. The fact of the matter is that as long as I carry myself with dignity and grace, it doesn't matter what those idiots get up to. They'll only embarrass themselves.

"Yes Ma'am." They all say in unison. Something feels off. Usually they're all glum and downtrodden, but today they seem all energized. What's got them in a good mood?!

I should double-check they haven't been planning anything.

I return to my office and close the door. I open up the monitoring software and have a check. No new phone calls or texts to each other... but what's this? An email from Barry to the other four, titled "Secret Plan". That sounds like exactly the sort of thing I should be concerned about.

There's no body to the email, but there is an attachment. I quickly open it.

Turns out it was nothing to do with some plot to get **** on me. Relieved, I return to preparing for the arrival of Mr Banks.

---

I greet my boss at the door and give him a warm smile. He looks... confused? But politely smiles. Maybe he can sense that there's a weird mood in the air too. I should watch my step.

I turn around to lead him through the office to the meeting room. He immediately coughs.

"Um, your, um your skirt is caught in your underwear." He says as politely as possible.

Reaching behind me, it feels like everything is fine. Could he have been mistaken? It would be a really weird thing to think you saw if you didn't. Is this some kind of weird joke, then? It must be. I **** a laugh as if I understand the joke, then continue to walk past my employees and into the meeting room ahead.

I take the seat at the far side of the meeting table. This way I can see out through the glass wall into the main office, and make sure that none of the twats that work for me are doing anything strange. I gesture for Michael to take the seat across from me, and he does so.

He wants to put his laptop down on the table, but my bra is in the way. He seems shy about handling it, which is fair enough. In 2021, men have gotten in trouble for less. I smile sweetly and move it to the side for him.

"So, what can I do you for?" I ask him. Drat, straight away I'm fumbling with my words. Should I correct myself? No, it's too late, just let it ride.

"It's good to see you Pamela."

"And you. How's Sandra?"

"She's doing fine, thank you. How are you?"

"Oh, you know, surviving. It's challenging to wrangle five men, when you're the only woman. But I manage."

"Ah, yes, about that. Let's get straight to the point then."

Unfortunately, before he can say anything more, my phone starts ringing. How embarrassing. I never forget to set it to vibrate! And now, here, in front of my boss, I forgot?! I must be more nervous than I realized. I retrieve my phone, and apologising, set it to vibrate, before putting it away again.

Michael looks like he's seen a ghost. Oh jeez, have I really upset him already? He's been here less than two minutes. I can't be the only person who's ever had their phone interrupt a meeting with him, can I? Still he looks really disturbed. Perhaps I should apologize properly.

"I'm really sorry. I never usually forget to set it to vibrate. I'm not sure what's come over me."

Whoever was ringing, starts ringing again. We can both hear the subtle vibratrions, but it's a lot less intrusive now. Miachel shakes his head and tries to continue.

"I've heard from some of your staff about your... unconventional management strategies. And so I came here both to see whether they are true, and also because what I have to say next I don't want there to be any record of me having said."

Oh, he must mean that some of the men complained about the monitoring. What losers! I'm proud of the lengths I go to, to ensure that staff are not misusing company equipment.

"Sure, let me show you."

I open my laptop and turn it around so that he can see the video I've prepared summarising my monitoring strategy, and the results so far. Michael's glasses steam up, and he has to wipe them and then check again with wide eyes.

"I see, and you do this with all of them?"

"Yes, I leave no nook or cranny unexplored. They have no secrets from me."

"I see. So it is true."

"Yes it is."

Whoever is calling me won't stop ringing. Frustrated, I say to Michael "Look, sorry, I better get this. Just keep watching."

Reaching down in front, I retrieve my phone from where it was lodged. It has been vibrating all this time, and now my nipples are standing on end, jutting through my thin white blouse. It would be better if I could have been wearing my bra, but alas it is already out on the table next to Michael's laptop, so that's not an option.

Fuck a duck. It's Alan who has been calling me this entire time.

"What. Do. You. Want." I say, seething, after I answer my phone. He KNOWS I'm in a meeting. He can see me, and I can see him.

He holds up a tray as he speaks into his phone. "Did you want me to bring in the food and drink now?"

YES I ALREADY TOLD YOU I WANTED YOU DO TO THAT YOU IMBECILE! is what I want to shout, but that would give a bad impression. So I just say "Yes. Please." In a tone that makes it clear I'm not happy, and hang up.

Moments later, Alan arrives with two plates and two glasses. Both glasses are full of apple juice, and one plate has sandwiches and french fries on it, and the other is empty. Alan gives me the empty plate and Michael the full plate, as instructed. We each get one glass.

"I love this bit." Alan quips to Michael on his way out. What the hell is he talking about? The video? He's never seen the video before, and if he had, he wouldn't love any of its content. Another unexplicable behaviour. What is going on today?!

When the video ends, Alan sighs. "Look, I really don't want to argue with your results. This branch consistently puts out incredible quality output, quarter upon quarter. But these methods... We could get in real trouble."

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused. "It's perfectly legal."

"Legal, yes, but also wholly inappropriate. And against company policy, obviously."

What policy is he talking about?! I've read every document corporate has ever sent me, and never seen anything about managers not being allowed to install monitoring software on company-owned tech.

"There's no need to be coy. I understand why this works. But it is a breach of interpersonal regulations."

My mouth is getting dry. I need a drink. Taking a sip of my juice, I find it's more bitter than normal. But... I don't hate the taste. And I'm parched, and there's nothing else in here to drink, so I keep going. Perhaps it's my nerves, but I end up downing the entire glass.

"I may have learned some intimate details about my staff, but that's not my fault! If they just-"

"You're their boss, so it is most certainly your fault." Michael corrects me. He seems extremely certain, so I guess I should take his word on it.

"So... you want me to stop?"

Michael hesitates, and sighs. "I just don't want you to get caught. And if you do, I don't want to go down with your ship."

"Understood."

"I hope you do. I will not have your back if this goes tits up." He pushes my laptop back to me. "You should get rid of this video. It's evidence."

"So let me get this straight. You came here to tell me to keep doing what I'm doing, but to keep it a secret?"

"Exactly. And if it ever comes to light, I'll say I knew nothing about it."

"I need to think about this." I notice that I'm crossing my legs, and that my bladder is full. "I need the toilet. Give me a minute."

I go to take a piss, losing myself in the confused thought process of what on earth he could be so concerned about. Even if my job is on the line, and I think he's mistaken about that, the way he's talking about it makes it seem as if there could be some kind of scandal. What does he know that I don't?!

I return to my seat to find that someone has refilled my glass. That's unusually thoughtful of them. I take a sip, but it's weirldy warm, which makes me wrinkle my nose. I set it back down for now.

"You drink it too?!" Michael half-chokes.

"I know, two glasses is probably a bit much." Apple juice is very high in sugar. It's a little weird that Michael is concerned for my calorie intake, but I'm not going to be rude about it right now.

"And why am I the only one with lunch on my plate?" He enquires.

"Oh, my staff are aware that I prepared my own earlier. Here it is."

I turn around and bend over to get my lunch ready. It's french fries and sandwiches, same as his, but lovingly prepared by yours truly. Unfortunately it's gotten a bit crushed in transit, and is now more of a set of mush. But it'll taste just as good.

"Do you mind? I'm starving."

I start to eat my food. It's a little tangy, but not bad.

"I... I can't believe it." Michael says. What's wrong now?! Does he really want me to have waited for permission to eat? Oh, no, silly me, it's just that he loves mayonnaise on his french fries. I know that.

"Condoments?" I ask him, procuring five sachets from my purse.

"No!" He replies, a bit more forcefully than is needed.

I shrug. "All the more for me." I get to work opening each of the packets and squeezing out its load onto my fries.

I taste it again, and it's much better. This mayo is saltier than my usual brand, but it's delicious all the same.

"You not hungry?" I ask him between mouthfuls.

"Lost my apetite." He responds immediately.

PING

A text messages comes through to Michael's phone. HAH. See, it's not just me who forgets to turn my phone's ringer off.

He reads it, and frowns. "Mr. White is suggesting that it would be worth asking you to show me how you take notes during their aural reports."

I cock my head to the side. "Are you sure? I don't see how that's relevant..."

"I think it would help me to end this meeting with a better taste in my mouth."

"Okay, sure. Let me get my notepad."

As usual, I've been clumsy and left my notepad on the floor. Awkwardly, right now, it's actually between Mr. Banks's legs. I have to crawl under the table to get it. After I retrieve it, I give him a prompt. "Okay, pretend to be telling me all the work you've done today."

I make sure to nod and hum between each item on his list, when I've finished noting it down.

"Mhmm."

"Mmm."

"Mhmm."

Mr. Banks really stretches out his list. He makes this exercise go on forever. But by the end, he seems satisfied.

"Is there anything else you'd like to see me do?" I ask him, subptly wiping away a bit of mayo from my chin that must have missed my mouth earlier.

"No, I think we're done here. Thank you for your time, Pamela."

And with that, he takes his leave.

The five men in the main office floor are all staring at me with the biggest shit-eating grins on their faces. What have they got to be happy about? I've been told I'm allowed to keep up the intensive monitoring.

They should all get back to work, because at 5pm it will be time for their aural reports.