The Sisterhood

Chapter I (Martha)

My intercom buzzed, it was my boss, the owner of the company, Lawrence Greenwood. I’m his executive secretary.

“Martha, I hate to ask but could you stay a little late this evening, there are a few things I need to go over with you.”

“Certainly, Mr. Greenwood, what time would you like to meet?” I inquired.

“Let’s make it six, here in my office.”

“Of course Mr. Greenwood,” I said.

I’d been expecting this call for a week, I imagined it would be an evaluation of my performance, there was a 90 day probationary period before company benefits would kick in and I’d even qualify for a raise. I’d only been on the job for eighty-two days but it was far and away the best position I’d ever held.

Greenwood & Associates was a fast paced sales organization staffed primarily with hard charging younger associates. The floor was always a hive of activity, the phones and computers ringing non-stop, it was a busy but a great place to work and the main reason was the boss.

When I’d had my first interview I was surprised that I was even being considered. Mr. Greenwood was young, I guessed him to be around twenty-eight or twenty-nine and all of the employees I’d seen were twentysomethings, too. All that is except Mr. Greenwood’s executive secretary, Magda Schultz; Magda was sixty-five and retiring. I was being interviewed as her replacement.

I was a bit early for my interview; Magda and I chatted. I commented on the youthfulness of the staff. She said that Mr. Greenwood demanded energy, long hours and dedication; in return employees could expect the highest compensation and the best benefits package in the industry. She mentioned that she’d been Mr. Greenwood’s father’s secretary and had stayed after his death.

Mr. Greenwood buzzed that he was ready for me; Magda wished me luck and I went in.

“Martha, please have a seat.”

I sat across his desk from him, it was stacked with work and there was a silver framed picture; Mr. Greenwood, a beautiful blonde lady and two children. It was posed on the lawn of a huge, ornate home. I assumed it was his family, I’d learn later that it in fact was.

“Martha, may I call you Martha?”

“Please do.”

“Martha, let me tell you a little about the company: it was founded by my grandfather forty-seven years ago, he held the Chairmanship position for thirty-one years before retiring. Mr. Father ascended to the leadership position, he headed the firm for the next 18 years and upon his untimely death three years ago the mantle fell to me. We’re a sales organization and I expect a great deal from my associates, all of my associates. Performance, unbridled dedication and loyalty are what we demand here. If that’s forthcoming this can be a nice place to work.

Now, please tell me about yourself.”

“Mr. Greenwood, first, and I know this is really not the way to start, but I’m surprised to have this opportunity to even interview, everyone here is so young.”

Interrupting he said, “Ah Martha, I think I understand.” Glancing down at my resume he said, “I see here that you’re fifty-eight, well, yes, I do want youthful exuberance in my sales force but, in my executive security I want experience and skills that are no longer taught, as an example, I prefer to dictate correspondence and I need a secretary that knows shorthand, that sort of thing, so, for this one position I seek maturity.”

I smiled; maturity I did have; at fifty-eight I’d been doing secretarial work for thirty-five years.

“Yes well, I am experienced,” I said, “I’d been with my previous employer for 18 years, we were suppliers of materiel for the construction trades. When the current economic crisis hit and building dried up the firm filed for bankruptcy, I’ve been unemployed for four months. As you mentioned, I’m fifty-eight, I’ve been a widow for the past nine years, I live with my thirteen year old granddaughter, I lost my daughter several years ago so I took Margo in.

I do have Gregg shorthand skills but I’ve kept up to date, I’m familiar with most of the business computer programs, Microsoft Office with Excel and the other related applications, I can handle those as well.”

We talked for about another thirty minutes, reviewing my resume, what my former duties had been, that sort of thing.

“Martha, I’ve enjoyed meeting with you; I do have several other candidates to speak with and, if we move on we’ll need to do a little background check; I’ll have Magda give you a call in a few days, make it three days, one way or the other.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Greenwood,” I said as I left his office.

I said a silent prayer as I took the bus home, “Please give me this opportunity,” I prayed, something had to break, I was at my wits end.

When I’d given Mr. Greenwood details about myself I’d held a few things back. Not about my work history or my skills, no, not that, I could do everything I’d said. It was my personal affairs that I’d omitted.

After my husband had died I’d moved into a small one bedroom apartment, it was really all I could afford but I’d been making it; then Margo had come to live with me. My daughter had gotten into the drug scene and Margo’s home life had been pure chaos. When her mother’d overdosed, it nearly pushed her over the edge.

Margo had been with me a little over two years, she was rebellious and things were just getting worse; I knew she needed counseling but I simply couldn’t afford it.

Then I’d lost my job. The last four months had been pure hell, I was past-due on the rent; fortunately my landlord had worked with me but that couldn’t last forever and if I lost the apartment we’d be homeless. Sure I was getting unemployment compensation and I’d applied for food stamps but it just wasn’t enough. The job situation was bleak; I’d been beating the streets for four months and still didn’t even have a prospect. I owned an automobile but it was parked, I couldn’t afford to have it repaired.

Margo complained that she felt like a waif, wearing hand me down clothes, no Ipod, none of the things other kids had.

Truth be told, I felt the same, I shopped at Goodwill. I kept our clothes clean but they were a little worn, a little shabby and our diet was atrocious, all I could afford were fatty cuts of meat if we had meat at all, mostly we lived on beans, rice and other starches. It filled our bellies but that was about it. I was putting on weight, flabby weight from the poor diet and so was Margo.

And so I’d said a prayer. I was a religious woman, I’d been raised in a strict Presbyterian home and still attended Sunday services; Margo refused to go.

I thought, well at least I had a phone, it was from Lifeline and I got it for no cost. Now if it would just ring with a job offer…

And three days later it did ring, “May I speak with Martha Van Dorn please?” The female voice asked.

“This is Martha,” I replied.

“Martha, this is Magda, Mr. Greenwood’s secretary, if it’s convenient he’d like to meet with you again tomorrow morning at eight, will you be available?”

“Yes, Magda, yes, of course, I’ll be there.”

On the bus ride the next morning I was so jittery, again I prayed, “Please, please let this work out.”

“Good morning Magda,” I greeted.

“Hello Martha, Mr. Greenwood can see you right away, go on in.”

His office door was open, I walked in.

“Good morning Martha, please have a seat.”

“Martha, I’ll get right to it, we’ve completed our background investigation and you’re the candidate we’ve selected. If you’re still interested, I’d like you to join our firm.”

We hadn’t discussed salary, benefits, nothing, still I didn’t hesitate, “Sir, I look forward to working with you.”

“I’d like you to start tomorrow morning if possible, Magda is leaving at the end of the week, it’d give you a few days for her to show you the ropes, can you?”

“Yes Mr. Greenwood, I can start then.”

“Ok, now that that’s settled, there are a few things we need to discuss. Your starting salary for instance.”

He told me, I was glad I was sitting, I’m afraid my knees would have failed me, his offer was more than double what I’d been making at my previous employer, he continued, covering the benefits that I’d be entitled to after my ninety day probationary period; he was emphatic that I understand, for the first 90 days I could be terminated without any cause or reason being given. I told him that, yes, I understood that.

“Martha, I don’t want you to feel or take what I’m about to say in a demeaning manner, but I like my employees to look sharp, particularly my executive secretary; you’ll be my gatekeeper and provide the first impression of the company.”

I was anguished; I couldn’t afford a new wardrobe, my face dropped.

He handed me an envelope that he’d pulled from his drawer, “I realize you’ve been out of work for several months and that things are probably tight financially; I want you to have this, look at it as a signing bonus.”

As I left, I said to Magda, “He hired me; I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Outside the building I had to lean against the wall, I was overcome emotionally, my prayers had been answered. I looked in the envelope, there were ten one hundred dollar bills, a thousand dollars, I couldn’t believe my good fortune.

I didn’t go home right away, he wanted me well dressed, I walked to a department store for some shopping, shopping for nice dresses, clothing I hadn’t been able to afford for years.

I selected three dresses, full skirted to conceal the fact that I was a woman’s size eighteen, God I thought, had I put on that much weight, I wasn’t a small lady but I’d been a size fourteen for years. I also chose two new pairs of shoes, low heeled, sensible shoes. Then I make a stop in the teens’ department. For Margo I bought four short sets, several new Tee-shirts, some panties and a couple of bras; she got a new pair of sneakers, too, she’d be elated. I felt good being able to do something nice for her.

As I left the store I realized I’d neglected to stop in the ladies’ lingerie department, my panties and brassieres were pretty raggedy, some of them with holes. I started to turn back then thought, I want to get home. I’d get them the next time; no one was going to see them anyway. I’d neglected to get back.

Now, I’d been with the company eighty-two days and the job was even better than I’d expected. Mr. Greenwood had an open door policy; associates were always coming and going, with suggestions as to how productivity could be increased. And he always took the time to listen to and give consideration to their ideas.

You could tell his people loved him; some of the female associates would flirt a little when they had the chance, he was a handsome man, he fended them off but never in a way that was embarrassing, but why would he stray, he had a lovely wife and family.

I’d learned that it was a family photograph he kept on his desk, his wife had come to the office several times for luncheon dates, and she always had a greeting and a kind word for me.

He even kept in touch with Magda. I knew he visited her every Tuesday and always took her a little gift. Magda had confirmed this; she’d stopped by to visit last week.

We’d had lunch together and asked if I’d had my private meeting with Mr. Greenwood. When I’d told her no she’d said I could expect to hear from him in the next several days and then, he’d probably want to see me at least one evening a week. She said he called them organizational meetings but he only held them with his executive secretary, his one mature employee.

Was she enjoying her retirement thus far I inquired?

Mr. Greenwood gave me a nice pension; I’m quite comfortable, in fact I’m planning to take two weeks to visit London and Paris starting the first of June.

I commented that Mr. Greenwood had scheduled a vacation for the same period, he was taking his family, they also would be in London and Paris.

“Yes, I know,” she replied, “He’s paying my way. We’ll say at different hotels but he thought he might need a secretary and asked if I’d be willing to travel. I really couldn’t turn him down, now could I?”

Was it true, did he still visit with her?

With a little smile she said,

“Oh yes, he comes over every Tuesday evening for about an hour, he always brings me a little something, Swiss chocolates, a fruit basket, some little treat.”

She told me that he and she had always gotten together on Tuesday evenings when she was his secretary but she thought he’d want to see me on a different day.

I wondered out loud why he’d want to change his schedule.

Again, with a smile she said, “Well he does visit me on Tuesday evenings.”

So I was meeting with Mr. Greenwood this evening at six. I was a little nervous, I was still probationary but I didn’t think I’d done anything to warrant complaint. I phoned Margo, yes; she had her own cell phone now, and let her know I’d be a little late.

Promptly at six I went to his office.

“Martha, please close the door,” he asked.

I thought that a little strange, his door was always open, none the less, I did as he’d asked, I thought I heard a lock engage when the door closed.

“Please have a seat,” he asked.

As I sat I noticed some odd differences. His desk that was always covered with pending paperwork was completely clear, even the picture was gone; I saw it on his credenza.

He started, “Martha, your ninety days are ending in a week or so, I wanted to find out how you feel about your job thus far.”

I may have been a tad overboard in my exuberance as I gushed, “Mr. Greenwood, it’s a dream come true, the people here are wonderful, and the pay, my goodness I’m still amazed at what my salary is. I’ve gotten my car repaired; Margo and I both have new wardrobes, we’re looking for a larger apartment in a nicer area, we even get to go out to a movie or for pizza occasionally. And you, Mr. Greenwood, I think you’re the best boss in the world.”

He smiled, “I take it you like it here then.”

“Mr. Greenwood, I think it’s fantastic working here.”

“Have you had an opportunity to look over the benefits you’ll receive in just a few days?”

“I haven’t gone over them thoroughly yet, no.”

“Let me recap what you’ll have; your insurance will be completely company paid, there’s no deductible for anything, full medical and hospitalization, prescription medications, dental and vision are included and you’re entitled to dependent coverage. Margo can be covered, too. Did I mention the mental health provision, I know you’d like for Margo to get some counseling, it provides for unlimited sessions with either a psychologist or psychiatrist; she can get the help you want for her. We have nine paid holidays, of course a liberal sick leave policy and you qualify for four weeks vacation after you’ve been here a year. You’ll receive five hundred thousand life coverage and finally, should Margo choose to attend college we provide financial aid, no need for student loans. Oh, I forgot to mention, on your ninety-first day you’ll receive a ten percent pay increase; after that we’ll review your work on an annual basis. Do you have any questions?”

My mind was awhirl, my future was set, all I had to do was a good job for the company, Margo’s, too, with counseling and an education she’d be off to a good start in life and, since she’d be my beneficiary, she could look forward to a half a million windfall at some time in the future.

I could only nod, no, I didn’t have any questions.

I’d spoken to Magda earlier and she’d asked if I’d had my meeting yet. I’d said no, that it was scheduled for six this evening. I thought it strange when she said,

“If you decide to stay give me a call tomorrow, I’ll introduce you to the Sisterhood.”

“The Sisterhood?” I asked.

“Yes, there are three of us, all older retired women, you’d be the forth.”

“Can you tell me what that’s about?”

“If you stay you’ll understand, call me tomorrow, ok.”

I’d gotten off the phone thinking, what an odd conversation.”

Mr. Greenwood interrupted my thoughts by saying, “Martha, I’ve got a couple of questions for you.”

He had a strange look on his face, almost a leer as he stared at me.

He pointed toward the family photo, “You’ve met my family?”

“You have a lovely family, Mr. Greenwood, I’ve met your wife, she’s beautiful.”

“Yes, isn’t she, delightful arm dressing.”

“I think she’s more than just that sir, she seems to be a wonderful woman.”

“Yes, she’s pretty but Martha I’ve got to confess, I really much prefer mature ladies. Did you know I still visit several of my retired employees?”

“I know you see Magda once a week, I didn’t know about anyone else.”

“There are two others, they weren’t my executive secretaries, they were from other departments, women that had worked for my father before me and decided to stay. Unfortunately after Father’s death several of the older ladies chose to leave.”

“You don’t want to leave the company do you Martha?”

I thought about my earlier conversation with Magda, the Sisterhood, she’d said there were three of them, that if I chose to stay with the company that I’d make four.

My mind spun, some older women had chosen to leave the company but at least three of them had chosen to stay. I thought about Magda’s smile and I thought about her generous pension, the gifts and the trip. And I thought about myself and Margo.

I got a bad feeling, a very bad feeling. I was a religious church going, God fearing woman, I didn’t know exactly what Mr. Greenwood wanted but I knew it wasn’t my prayers that had been answered, if I stayed it would be a pact with the Devil.

With a shaky, tremulous voice I answered, “Yes Mr. Greenwood, I want to stay.”

I was committed and I knew he was about to exact the price for the good life he was offering.

“Yes Mr. Greenwood, I want to stay,” I repeated.

He scooted his chair back and stood, he had something in his hand but I couldn’t identify it. He pointed to a drawer in the credenza.

“Martha, please get what’s in the drawer and bring it to me.”

I opened the drawer, it only contained one object. I picked it up, it was a large jar of Vaseline. I turned to look at him and heard an ominous snap. The object he’d been holding was a rubber glove. It was now on his right hand.

I nearly collapsed as he said, “Open it and bring it to me.”

“Please Mr. Greenwood, no, please,” I begged.

“Martha, you can still chose to leave, I’m not going to insist that you do anything against your will.”

I stood frozen.

“Martha, I’m afraid it’s time for you to make a decision, bring it to me or clean your personal effects from your desk and leave, it’s your choice.”

My body sagged but I walked toward his desk.

“Around here Martha, come to my side.”

I followed his instructions and handed him the jar. I’d noted that it was over half empty, it had been used before, I thought of Magda and her Sisterhood and knew I was about to become an initiate.

He took my shoulders and turned me so I faced back over his desk.

Lie across my desk Martha.

Now I knew why it was cleaned off, it was to accommodate me.

I bent over the desk.

Martha, please raise your dress above your hips.

I hadn’t started pleading you but I knew I would, instead, I raised my dress. I had on a cotton slip.

“The slip, Martha, the slip, up with it, too.

Finally, as I lifted the slip I started, “Please don’t do this to me Mr. Greenwood, no one has ever done this to me, God I’m fifty-eight and no one’s ever done this.”

“Oh I’d hoped that was the case, all three of my other ladies were anal virgins, too. I adore the sounds you older gals make, and Martha, you’re going to make some sounds you’re probably gonna cry a little, too, we’ll see in just a few moments. Now lift the slip.

Slowly I raised it above my hips, off of my back side.

“Oh Martha, Martha, I’m so disappointed in you,” he gasped.

Thwack, one side, thwack, the other side, he slapped my bottom, my puffy cheeks quivering from the impact, tears flooded my eyes.

“You nasty girl,” he said, “I gave you money for new clothing and yet your panties are rags, never, never let me see you like this again.”

He was enraged; he ripped the fabric as he tore the offending garment from me. He dipped his gloved hand into the jar, with his other he spread me and crammed his fingers in. I gasped at the intrusion.

He pumped his fingers in and out of me, railing at me, “Never, never come to work like this again; we are going to have a meeting every Thursday evening, I want to see new panties next week. Don’t make them sexy, I like this older woman’s style you had on but I want them whole, not holy, do you understand?”

I could only moan, “Yes sir.”

His fingers came out and I heard as he removed the glove then his penis probed me.

He grasped my hips and shoved forward, no finesse, no gentleness, he slammed into me. I felt like I’d been split, rent in half, torn.

I screamed, “Nooo, God nooo, please nooo.”

“Oh that’s my girl, scream for me Martha, scream for me.”

He was pounding into me, I was being shoved forward on the desk and I did, I screamed,

“Oooh, oooh, oooh, nooo, please, nooo.”

“Martha, you’re music to my ears, more beautiful that any symphony and God you’re tight. All of my other ladies are loose now, sing for me again.”

He really started hammering me, I thought he was tearing my guts apart and I screamed, God, why me, what did I do to offend you, what did I do?” I pled.

He just kept at me, I couldn’t scream again, tears were flowing from my eyes, all I could get out were sobs and a little whimpering sound. He pulled me back to him and I felt his cum, hot and vile flooding my insides. He pulled out and patted my bottom.

“Get cleaned up and go home, I’ll see you tomorrow morning and don’t forget, tell your granddaughter you’ll be late getting home on Thursdays.”

I stood, my slip and dress fell back into place, I was in agony, bent and holding my stomach I started to leave, then, remembering, I retrieved my purse and limped to the lady’s room.

In a stall I sat, his nasty fluids were draining into the toilet, I wiped, there was his cum, Vaseline and a little blood on the paper. I flushed it and went to the mirror.

My eyes were swollen and blackened from crying and my hair was disheveled, sweaty, I did what I could for my appearance and left the building. I still had to make one stop before I could go home.

The department store was only a few doors down. I bought new panties and brassieres; he’d never find me in tattered undergarments again; then retrieving my car from our company paid employees parking lot I drove home.

Margo was watching TV when I came in. Brightly she said, “Hi Grams.”

Then she looked at me, “Grams, are you sick, you don’t look to good?”

“I’ll be ok honey, have you eaten?”

“No, I was waiting for you.”

“Just make yourself a sandwich or something; I don’t want anything but a bath and my bed.”

The next morning it was like last night had never happened, Mr. Greenwood was his normal outgoing self, as he breezed by he said, “Good morning Martha,” will you come into my office, I need just a moment of your time.

Shut the door please and come over here. He indicated a spot beside his chair.

Let me check Martha,” he said as he ran his hand up under my dress and lifted it, he eyed my panties, they were brand new.

He dropped my dress and smiled approvingly, “I knew we had an understanding, I’m proud of you Martha.”

Later when he’d gone out for lunch I phoned Magda.

“Hello Magda, I still work for Greenwood & Associates.”

I didn’t have to say more, she told me,

“The Sisterhood meets on Saturdays here at my house would you like to come?”

“I think I would,” I replied.

“Four o’clock, Saturdays: we talk and drink a little wine; it helps.”

“Can I bring anything, the wine perhaps?”

“Martha, that would be sweet of you; bring several bottles, there will be four of us remember, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

She gave me directions.

It had slipped my mind, yes, tomorrow was Saturday, I was now Thursday’s engagement and it had happened last night, so today was Friday; somehow I got through the day.

I gave Margo some money and sent her to the mall after explaining that I had a four o’clock appointment

I stopped at “Ye Olde Wine and Spirits Shoppe” and asked for assistance in making my selection, I wasn’t much of a drinker.

He helped me chose a German Riesling, a slightly sweet wine, a California Chardonnay, a Chilean Cabernet and an Australian Shiraz from Greg Norman’s winery; all were reasonably priced.

Magda answered the door, took the bottles and made the introductions, no one would ever have guessed that the four of us composed a twenty-nine year old man’s harem but, as it developed we did.

It was almost like a twelve step meeting, we all had glasses of one of the red wines, Magda was chilling the whites.

These women already knew each other’s story, the introductions were for me.