Fifty Shades of Bae

Chapter One (In which our protagonist is somewhat established)

Chapter One
(In which our protagonist is somewhat established)

“Yes,” she said, her voice a rich soprano. “Beautiful work, Mr Metale.”

I could feel her eyes on me, heated; dripping with fixation.
My skin tingled from the attention.
Sweat beaded atop my forehead and I Trembled with a capital T beneath the raw pressure of her gaze.

“I’m happy that you’re happy,” I managed to say. Or, tried to say. My voice wasn’t working and I found myself uttering a strange squeaking sound that most certainly weren’t the words “I love you,” all said at once, squished into one indistinguishable mewl.

I shook my head.
Useless.
Entirely useless in every regard.

Sweat arced out from my face. It smeared across the manuscripts I was trying to evaluating. I turned from them to face her and my breath caught.
  Her face was unreadable, trapped beneath several layers of makeup that bulged out from her face. My, she was beautiful.
I spun around again, reminding myself how to breathe.

My name is Sem Metale, and it was my first day at the largest dildo manufacturing company in the world: Dildcorp.
  I had forever longed to work in such a fine establishment; a dream I'd nurtured since well before puberty. Upon ejection from my mother’s… erm… jimmies (a word which here means genitals) I had immediately set about to achieving this goal.
  And finally, after years of struggle, I had arrived.
Dildcorp’s best-selling dildo was known as “the juggernaut”; a monstrous thing – gigantic and aubergine coloured. The pictures in the files didn’t do justice to its majesty, its raw sense of purpose. I leant close to the manuscripts in my hand, sniffing at the scent of sweat, ignoring it, studying the diagrams with due diligence.

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

Her voice again. Slicing through the silence.

“Y-yes,” I stammered, “very.”
“Mm,” she mmed, and the mm sent very warm vibrations through my blood. “There will be a lunch break in ten minutes,” she continued, resting a finger on my shoulder. I stiffened. She laughed breathlessly. “You deserve a rest.”
I turned to flash her a smile but found her to already be moving away, swaying on her high heels.
I swallowed, breathing quickly.
Goddamn it. How was I going to continue working as a professional if I couldn’t even cope with my boss’s voice?

…

“One salad sandwich, please,” I said, passing currency over the counter.
“We don’t sell them,” the woman said bluntly. She was rather short for her age and rather average looking with dark rings beneath her eyes.
“Alright,” I said after a moment, “what about just a tea, thanks?”
“We don’t sell them either. This is a hardware shop.”
“Oh. So it is.”
I left the counter and maneuverer my way out of the store.

…

“One salad sandwich, please,” I said, passing currency over the counter.
The woman on duty spared me a tight grin before snatching my money. “No problem.”
She turned away and slammed her head against the wall.
The wall cracked.
Splintered.
Leaving a small head-shaped hole into what I assumed had to be the kitchen.
“GEOFF,” she screamed.
I jumped slightly at the sound.
“THE BLOKE OUT HERE WANTS A SANDWHICH.”
“With salad,” I prompted helpfully.
She didn’t respond. Or move. She appeared entirely content with her head lodged within a wall. “Ok,” I said to no-one in particular.