BBW, Romance, Science Fiction -A business woman begins receiving suggestive e-mails from one 'Fate Achiever' and has a partner with romantic designs on her, resulting in her changing in mind, body and soul.*
The sense of accomplishment had overwhelmed me and I was thankful that I had finally established myself within the historical community with a fabulous career. I consulted for a major historical society that was one of the leading institutions in the nation, and I was only a recent graduate student. Beyond that, I had a dear friend of mine, Jarrett Lavigne right at my side who had become such an essential part of my life since my freshman year of college.
We sorted through reports, supervised exhibits and after clocking out every evening, it was Jarrett and Claire, as we were known all those years before. Even on the worst of days when I was drowning in piles of paper and ancient papyrus, just having Jarrett there to dig me out was always welcome. He was my Indiana Jones but not even a snake could keep him from seizing a valuable artifact and saving it from obscurity.
I thought about this when I felt a hand descend upon my shoulder. Looking up, Jarrett's cloudy gray eyes bore back into mine as he smiled down at me. I blinked before realizing that I it was long past our usual lunch hour, so absorbed was I in a report on some recovered Nazi gold. He rolled his eyes, already aware of what had captivated me so and he scolded me for neglecting my basic needs in favor of a bygone era.
He stood well over six feet tall and his stature was only emphasized by his broad shoulders and almost stealth-like build. Indeed, the man did not walk but glided across the floor when he walked and I often felt there was just a cushion of air between his feet and the ground. I bite my lip and apologized that I wouldn't make the same mistake again and turned back to my computer screen, intending to ignore him. Shaking his head and sending his silver blond hair into motion, he reminded me that it was a common occurrence that my lunch hour be 'wasted' upon the dead and forgotten, like my appetite it would seem.
"Jarrett, this is important! We could have located a treasure trove of stolen gold that could be distributed to the descendants of countless victims of Hitler's reign. Anything not return will be preserved for examination and--"
"Alright, alright! I get it, you want to devote your time to this and that is very amiable of you. But I simply worry about you, especially when you just got over a severe cold. All you do is work and sleep, nothing more. Don't you remember how fun life used to be out there?" he asked, gesturing to the window of my corner office.
I slid a look out the window and saw a man braced against it and washing the glass. I waved to him and then turned back to Jarrett and shrugged.
"A window washer? Treasure?" I began, metaphorically weighing my options, "Again, treasure or window washer? Honestly when you put it that way,"
He let out a long shuddering sigh before running his fingers roughly through his hair, nearly defeated. Since we met he always had a protective nature but since we entered the 'real world' he seemed determined to offer me the support, whether asked for or not. I appreciated his efforts but I had become content with the predictability of my life and my health was not a great concern to me. I ate out of necessity, not of any sense of joy; I had my museums for that.
Frustrated, Jarrett slammed his fist on the wood of my mahogany desk before declaring that he was exhausted and would be leaving a bit early that day. He turned away from me, mumbling something under his breath but I was only have alert, my eyes drawn to the remarkable details on the screen.
"Oh, by the way! Thank you for fixing my computer for me, Jarrett. If I didn't have you here I'd never be able to examine these pictures. I owe you one."
His hand was on the doorknob but he didn't turn it, only froze in his pressed pin-stripped black suit. Looking over his shoulder he narrowed his eyes and murmured that I spent far too much time at my computer, and furthermore he should have left it broken.
"You know already what you could give me and you know that once you relinquish some control and let me take care of you, both our lives would be happier."
It was then my turn to roll my eyes. I reiterated that our friendship should never be endangered by attempting such risky behavior as becoming a couple, I felt it was a frightening prospect. Twirling a loose lock of hair around my finger I didn't meet his gaze as I asked him to understand my worries and recognize the hazards we'd open ourselves up to, especially when we lived and worked so closely. The last thing I needed was a scorned co-worker that would make the normal nine to five into an even more stressful affair than it already was.
He whirled around with such a stern look in his eyes and his jawline twitched just before he hurled his words at me. He accused me of self-imprisoning myself in my books and my office, away from the rest of world because I was afraid of life, love and anything else worth having. In his mind I was far too concerned with concealing myself in archives then letting a real man have the opportunity to love every inch of me, inside and out like a beautiful woman deserves.
"Even your clothes hide you away. When was the last time you even looked in the mirror and just took in the natural beauty that you have? When will you let me cherish you for what you are now and what you could be?" he asked, his eyes widened I could see him fighting within himself to maintain control.
"Jarrett, please don't do this to me again. We've had this argument countless times and I will not engage you to another bout."
With that I dismissed him and took a telephone call and Jarrett stormed out of the office, saying something to the affect that I would come to realize what we could become. I had no time for his childish antics or his fantasies; I was a career woman that needed to focus my attentions on educating the world about yesterday so we could appreciate tomorrow. That was my mission and he would not deter me.
Beyond drained, once I returned to my condominium I resigned myself to my usual nine-thirty bedtime would be lifted to a decent seven-thirty. I had ordered my dinner, not trusting my tired hands around a stove and yet I hadn't the strength to even open the container. After tossing the lemon-glazed salmon in the refrigerator, I went directly to my bedroom to undress and read the latest report on the treasure investigation before I let my head meet my pillow.
"Good evening, Claire. You have several new messages." My laptop called mechanically in an automotive male voice.
Jarrett had programed my small computer to respond to voice commands and I named the voice, 'R2-D2' respectively. The small rectangular white machine began to read off my e-mails, the normal reminders to pay certain bills and to recall upcoming events as I hung my suit up on the closet door. By the time I was safely secured in my teal blue and white pajama pants and white tank top, R2-D2 had recounted dozens of messages and I spoke the necessary responses he was to record and send out.
"Claire, would you like to delete all junk mail now? It is the usual. Lowering of credit score, online coupons, natural male enhancement--"
"Yes, yes, R2, please do." I cut in before throwing the computer a disgusted look. I would never admit that there were times where I genuinely forgot there was not a little man speaking to me, but that's what would happen.
"Claire, you have a message from, 'Fate Achiever' would you like to read it?"
Plopping down on my canopied king-sized bed beside the laptop I frowned, not immediately recalling the name but ultimately commanded the affirmative. Pulling back my soft deep burgundy, nearly scarlet red comforter, I listened to the computer read off the message and paused once I was secured beneath the sheets. The first message was vague and unfamiliar, asking me if I wanted to 'achieve my life's potential'; had I not been intrigued I would have been offended.
To say that I had not fulfilled my destiny already with three degrees under my belt was utterly ridiculous but I did not turn off the computer. The next two messages did not reveal any more information and I still hadn't a clue as to who would have sent such things to me. They said that I should hunger for a real life and for a real man and to stop trying to expand only my mind but to try other paths.
"Claire, should I delete these messages?" R2 asked, unaware of how the messages affected me.
I instructed him to maintain them for at least another twenty-four hours, for I would need to ponder their significance and hopefully they were a pathetic prank or merely sent to the wrong person. I placed R2 on sleep mode and curled against my pillow and willed myself to place my irritated thoughts aside and focus on sleep. But my slumber eluded me mercilessly, giving me only an hour or two to rest at a time before I was jarred awake by the most unusual of dreams, dreams that I could not completely recall once awake. My throat felt dry and as I made my way to the adjoining bathroom, seeking a glass of water from the sink's faucet, I tried to decipher my dreams. There had been a voice, that seemed to grin even as it spoke and beckoned me to awaken. That arrogant voice that penetrated my dreams, that haunted me.
After I placed the glass aside I turned away from the bathroom, my thoughts remained troubled. Despite my feelings I was weary of reaching out for help for I was not a scared child who ran into the arms of her parents whenever she had a nightmare. In fact my parents lived across the country, in a different time zone. My thoughts were further conflicted because I simply wished to call the one person I knew would not hesitate to come to my rescue. Swallowing my pride and casting off my fears before I became too unnerved to dial his number, I called Jarrett. My hands perspired heavily and my heart pounded uneasily as I listened to each ring before a groggy sound cracked across the line, what I could interpret as Jarrett's voice.
"Claire? Is that you? What the hell time is it?" Jarrett croaked.
"Jarrett, I-I can't sleep and I had a bad dream."
I proceeded to tell him had happened and how disturbing the voice had been and even told him about the mysterious e-mails that I'd received. Jarrett listened intently and promised that he would come over and help lull me back to sleep, and not once did he mention the fight we'd had earlier at the office. When he arrived I thanked him several times before he finally shushed me and told me to wait in my bedroom for him. Having had a key to my home for about three years, this was not an unusual request and I automatically complied. Normally I would have never thought to call him but for once I gave the reins to him.
Nearly ten minutes later I was lying beneath my blankets when I heard the lock on my door turn and the sound of someone entering. Only when I saw Jarrett standing before the threshold of my bedroom, dressed in a bathrobe, his pajama pants and slippers did I heave a sigh of relief. Before that night I would have never let Jarrett get beyond arms length apart from a hug or two, but now he was slipping under my sheets beside me and drawing me into his arms. I had no strength to protest. The way his strong fingers ran through my dark red hair and the way he whispered reassurances in my ear made me calm instantly.
"I don't know why I feel so jittery. I just can't understand--"
"You haven't eaten have you?" Jarrett asked, rather matter-of-factly.
When I shook my head he only gave me a knowing look before he told me that he was going to fetch something hearty for me to eat and he expected me to not argue.
"Between all the stress and not eating properly, you body is weak and I'm surprised that it took a bad dream for you to realize the trauma you're putting yourself through. I hope now you let me help you a little. You deserve it," he said, rising from the bed.
I had to fight with myself to keep from clutching to his clothes and begging for him to not leave, but at that moment my belly unleashed an angry growl. I whimpered while Jarrett only raised on brown brow and then pointed to it as proof of my condition. He disappeared down the hall and began to carry out his task. Meanwhile I sat trembling beneath my sheets, the memory of that voice haunting me. This was unlike me to say the least, for usually I was in complete control of my faculties and everyone knew from an early age that I was a gutsy, independent little spitfire.
Standing at just barely five feet tall, I had garnered respect for never letting my height hinder my ambitious nature. Now I was cowering in my room like a lost little girl and I felt ashamed of myself.
Only when Jarrett returned with a tray and set it over my lap did I feel safer and my nerves began to unwind themselves. He turned on my plasma screen television that was mounted on the wall and turned the channel to cartoons and resumed his place at my side. He had reheated the salmon I had bought earlier but had also placed on the tray a small dish presenting a slice of key lime pie and a tall glass of lemonade.
I ate small pieces before declaring that I was full, barely touching anything but then Jarrett drew closer to me until I was resting in his lap and though I tried to fight him, he quickly silenced me with a forkful of salmon. I stared into his eyes, surprised and found those gray orbs smoldering. When I tried to look away he only grasped my chin and forced me to stare into those beguiling eyes.
Jarrett whispered that he would not let me ignore the beauty that was waiting to spring forth from me and all the while he fork-fed me. He was warm and comforting, everything that he claimed he would be. His voice was thick with emotion while mine fell silent; I became engulfed by the look in his eyes,the sound of his voice and the delicious taste of the food. Once the last of it was gone and I had finished the lemonade, Jarrett removed the tray and then resettled me in his arms.
"I'm sorry for the way I treated you Jarrett at work. You've always been so good to me and I can't help but feel awful for what I said--"
"Shush, Claire don't worry about that. What's important is that you learn to let me in and that you starting letting yourself be loved and let yourself enjoy life." Jarrett said, rocking me in his arms.
I felt so at peace and for the first time in weeks, perhaps years, I had something other than work to look forward to in the morning.
Subliminal Release
by Petite09
by Petite09
The sense of accomplishment had overwhelmed me and I was thankful that I had finally established myself within the historical community with a fabulous career. I consulted for a major historical society that was one of the leading institutions in the nation, and I was only a recent graduate student. Beyond that, I had a dear friend of mine, Jarrett Lavigne right at my side who had become such an essential part of my life since my freshman year of college.
We sorted through reports, supervised exhibits and after clocking out every evening, it was Jarrett and Claire, as we were known all those years before. Even on the worst of days when I was drowning in piles of paper and ancient papyrus, just having Jarrett there to dig me out was always welcome. He was my Indiana Jones but not even a snake could keep him from seizing a valuable artifact and saving it from obscurity.
I thought about this when I felt a hand descend upon my shoulder. Looking up, Jarrett's cloudy gray eyes bore back into mine as he smiled down at me. I blinked before realizing that I it was long past our usual lunch hour, so absorbed was I in a report on some recovered Nazi gold. He rolled his eyes, already aware of what had captivated me so and he scolded me for neglecting my basic needs in favor of a bygone era.
He stood well over six feet tall and his stature was only emphasized by his broad shoulders and almost stealth-like build. Indeed, the man did not walk but glided across the floor when he walked and I often felt there was just a cushion of air between his feet and the ground. I bite my lip and apologized that I wouldn't make the same mistake again and turned back to my computer screen, intending to ignore him. Shaking his head and sending his silver blond hair into motion, he reminded me that it was a common occurrence that my lunch hour be 'wasted' upon the dead and forgotten, like my appetite it would seem.
"Jarrett, this is important! We could have located a treasure trove of stolen gold that could be distributed to the descendants of countless victims of Hitler's reign. Anything not return will be preserved for examination and--"
"Alright, alright! I get it, you want to devote your time to this and that is very amiable of you. But I simply worry about you, especially when you just got over a severe cold. All you do is work and sleep, nothing more. Don't you remember how fun life used to be out there?" he asked, gesturing to the window of my corner office.
I slid a look out the window and saw a man braced against it and washing the glass. I waved to him and then turned back to Jarrett and shrugged.
"A window washer? Treasure?" I began, metaphorically weighing my options, "Again, treasure or window washer? Honestly when you put it that way,"
He let out a long shuddering sigh before running his fingers roughly through his hair, nearly defeated. Since we met he always had a protective nature but since we entered the 'real world' he seemed determined to offer me the support, whether asked for or not. I appreciated his efforts but I had become content with the predictability of my life and my health was not a great concern to me. I ate out of necessity, not of any sense of joy; I had my museums for that.
Frustrated, Jarrett slammed his fist on the wood of my mahogany desk before declaring that he was exhausted and would be leaving a bit early that day. He turned away from me, mumbling something under his breath but I was only have alert, my eyes drawn to the remarkable details on the screen.
"Oh, by the way! Thank you for fixing my computer for me, Jarrett. If I didn't have you here I'd never be able to examine these pictures. I owe you one."
His hand was on the doorknob but he didn't turn it, only froze in his pressed pin-stripped black suit. Looking over his shoulder he narrowed his eyes and murmured that I spent far too much time at my computer, and furthermore he should have left it broken.
"You know already what you could give me and you know that once you relinquish some control and let me take care of you, both our lives would be happier."
It was then my turn to roll my eyes. I reiterated that our friendship should never be endangered by attempting such risky behavior as becoming a couple, I felt it was a frightening prospect. Twirling a loose lock of hair around my finger I didn't meet his gaze as I asked him to understand my worries and recognize the hazards we'd open ourselves up to, especially when we lived and worked so closely. The last thing I needed was a scorned co-worker that would make the normal nine to five into an even more stressful affair than it already was.
He whirled around with such a stern look in his eyes and his jawline twitched just before he hurled his words at me. He accused me of self-imprisoning myself in my books and my office, away from the rest of world because I was afraid of life, love and anything else worth having. In his mind I was far too concerned with concealing myself in archives then letting a real man have the opportunity to love every inch of me, inside and out like a beautiful woman deserves.
"Even your clothes hide you away. When was the last time you even looked in the mirror and just took in the natural beauty that you have? When will you let me cherish you for what you are now and what you could be?" he asked, his eyes widened I could see him fighting within himself to maintain control.
"Jarrett, please don't do this to me again. We've had this argument countless times and I will not engage you to another bout."
With that I dismissed him and took a telephone call and Jarrett stormed out of the office, saying something to the affect that I would come to realize what we could become. I had no time for his childish antics or his fantasies; I was a career woman that needed to focus my attentions on educating the world about yesterday so we could appreciate tomorrow. That was my mission and he would not deter me.
Beyond drained, once I returned to my condominium I resigned myself to my usual nine-thirty bedtime would be lifted to a decent seven-thirty. I had ordered my dinner, not trusting my tired hands around a stove and yet I hadn't the strength to even open the container. After tossing the lemon-glazed salmon in the refrigerator, I went directly to my bedroom to undress and read the latest report on the treasure investigation before I let my head meet my pillow.
"Good evening, Claire. You have several new messages." My laptop called mechanically in an automotive male voice.
Jarrett had programed my small computer to respond to voice commands and I named the voice, 'R2-D2' respectively. The small rectangular white machine began to read off my e-mails, the normal reminders to pay certain bills and to recall upcoming events as I hung my suit up on the closet door. By the time I was safely secured in my teal blue and white pajama pants and white tank top, R2-D2 had recounted dozens of messages and I spoke the necessary responses he was to record and send out.
"Claire, would you like to delete all junk mail now? It is the usual. Lowering of credit score, online coupons, natural male enhancement--"
"Yes, yes, R2, please do." I cut in before throwing the computer a disgusted look. I would never admit that there were times where I genuinely forgot there was not a little man speaking to me, but that's what would happen.
"Claire, you have a message from, 'Fate Achiever' would you like to read it?"
Plopping down on my canopied king-sized bed beside the laptop I frowned, not immediately recalling the name but ultimately commanded the affirmative. Pulling back my soft deep burgundy, nearly scarlet red comforter, I listened to the computer read off the message and paused once I was secured beneath the sheets. The first message was vague and unfamiliar, asking me if I wanted to 'achieve my life's potential'; had I not been intrigued I would have been offended.
To say that I had not fulfilled my destiny already with three degrees under my belt was utterly ridiculous but I did not turn off the computer. The next two messages did not reveal any more information and I still hadn't a clue as to who would have sent such things to me. They said that I should hunger for a real life and for a real man and to stop trying to expand only my mind but to try other paths.
"Claire, should I delete these messages?" R2 asked, unaware of how the messages affected me.
I instructed him to maintain them for at least another twenty-four hours, for I would need to ponder their significance and hopefully they were a pathetic prank or merely sent to the wrong person. I placed R2 on sleep mode and curled against my pillow and willed myself to place my irritated thoughts aside and focus on sleep. But my slumber eluded me mercilessly, giving me only an hour or two to rest at a time before I was jarred awake by the most unusual of dreams, dreams that I could not completely recall once awake. My throat felt dry and as I made my way to the adjoining bathroom, seeking a glass of water from the sink's faucet, I tried to decipher my dreams. There had been a voice, that seemed to grin even as it spoke and beckoned me to awaken. That arrogant voice that penetrated my dreams, that haunted me.
After I placed the glass aside I turned away from the bathroom, my thoughts remained troubled. Despite my feelings I was weary of reaching out for help for I was not a scared child who ran into the arms of her parents whenever she had a nightmare. In fact my parents lived across the country, in a different time zone. My thoughts were further conflicted because I simply wished to call the one person I knew would not hesitate to come to my rescue. Swallowing my pride and casting off my fears before I became too unnerved to dial his number, I called Jarrett. My hands perspired heavily and my heart pounded uneasily as I listened to each ring before a groggy sound cracked across the line, what I could interpret as Jarrett's voice.
"Claire? Is that you? What the hell time is it?" Jarrett croaked.
"Jarrett, I-I can't sleep and I had a bad dream."
I proceeded to tell him had happened and how disturbing the voice had been and even told him about the mysterious e-mails that I'd received. Jarrett listened intently and promised that he would come over and help lull me back to sleep, and not once did he mention the fight we'd had earlier at the office. When he arrived I thanked him several times before he finally shushed me and told me to wait in my bedroom for him. Having had a key to my home for about three years, this was not an unusual request and I automatically complied. Normally I would have never thought to call him but for once I gave the reins to him.
Nearly ten minutes later I was lying beneath my blankets when I heard the lock on my door turn and the sound of someone entering. Only when I saw Jarrett standing before the threshold of my bedroom, dressed in a bathrobe, his pajama pants and slippers did I heave a sigh of relief. Before that night I would have never let Jarrett get beyond arms length apart from a hug or two, but now he was slipping under my sheets beside me and drawing me into his arms. I had no strength to protest. The way his strong fingers ran through my dark red hair and the way he whispered reassurances in my ear made me calm instantly.
"I don't know why I feel so jittery. I just can't understand--"
"You haven't eaten have you?" Jarrett asked, rather matter-of-factly.
When I shook my head he only gave me a knowing look before he told me that he was going to fetch something hearty for me to eat and he expected me to not argue.
"Between all the stress and not eating properly, you body is weak and I'm surprised that it took a bad dream for you to realize the trauma you're putting yourself through. I hope now you let me help you a little. You deserve it," he said, rising from the bed.
I had to fight with myself to keep from clutching to his clothes and begging for him to not leave, but at that moment my belly unleashed an angry growl. I whimpered while Jarrett only raised on brown brow and then pointed to it as proof of my condition. He disappeared down the hall and began to carry out his task. Meanwhile I sat trembling beneath my sheets, the memory of that voice haunting me. This was unlike me to say the least, for usually I was in complete control of my faculties and everyone knew from an early age that I was a gutsy, independent little spitfire.
Standing at just barely five feet tall, I had garnered respect for never letting my height hinder my ambitious nature. Now I was cowering in my room like a lost little girl and I felt ashamed of myself.
Only when Jarrett returned with a tray and set it over my lap did I feel safer and my nerves began to unwind themselves. He turned on my plasma screen television that was mounted on the wall and turned the channel to cartoons and resumed his place at my side. He had reheated the salmon I had bought earlier but had also placed on the tray a small dish presenting a slice of key lime pie and a tall glass of lemonade.
I ate small pieces before declaring that I was full, barely touching anything but then Jarrett drew closer to me until I was resting in his lap and though I tried to fight him, he quickly silenced me with a forkful of salmon. I stared into his eyes, surprised and found those gray orbs smoldering. When I tried to look away he only grasped my chin and forced me to stare into those beguiling eyes.
Jarrett whispered that he would not let me ignore the beauty that was waiting to spring forth from me and all the while he fork-fed me. He was warm and comforting, everything that he claimed he would be. His voice was thick with emotion while mine fell silent; I became engulfed by the look in his eyes,the sound of his voice and the delicious taste of the food. Once the last of it was gone and I had finished the lemonade, Jarrett removed the tray and then resettled me in his arms.
"I'm sorry for the way I treated you Jarrett at work. You've always been so good to me and I can't help but feel awful for what I said--"
"Shush, Claire don't worry about that. What's important is that you learn to let me in and that you starting letting yourself be loved and let yourself enjoy life." Jarrett said, rocking me in his arms.
I felt so at peace and for the first time in weeks, perhaps years, I had something other than work to look forward to in the morning.
