Arti looked out from the glass wall of the top floor of her office building – recently built to reflect the success and opulence of Silicon Valley. The sunny California spring morning lay in front of her in full splendor as far as her eyes could see: from the green foothills to the foggy bay.
The view is surely different from the top. How far is the bridge, she wondered. How far has she come? The life in the small rural town in India she left behind seemed more distant than the bridge and far more foggier than the bay.
It was not long ago, she left her hometown for the first time to come to the bay area only two weeks after her marriage. That shy young girl, an outsider, looking in with wonder and awe never imagined that in a few short years would become, an insider, a confident empowered woman looking out.
It all changed when she met James. It was one of the many obligatory women empowerment events that had just started to become fashionable in the corporate culture of Silicon Valley. Being in a new junior position, and more importantly being a young woman of color, she was required to attend. There were only a handful of women like her at that time. She not only ticked all the usual boxes but she was considered ethnic enough due to her darker skin tone, unstyled long dark hair, and short chubby body wrapped in traditional Indian dresses. The traits she knew were barriers for acceptance and success all her life suddenly became her assets.
James was one of the top executives that had been with the company so long that he had no real responsibilities so that he could focus on company culture and future vision. Between attending executive retreats in exotics locations, he would travel to different offices and tell people, who were already working hard and doing their job, what they were doing wrong. In his late 50s, he recently discovered his passion for diversity and empowerment of women – such is the privilege of successful and powerful older white men with world views only acceptable in the confines of the corporate boardrooms of newly woke companies.
Arti did not see him that way. He was one of the main speakers. She felt inspired by his patronizing cliches. She mistook his overused and borrowed anecdotes as wisdom. She equated his position with talent. His arrogance as confidence. She interpreted his simplistic views as refreshing straight talk. She saw elegance and sophistication in his ill fitted but expensive suit. She felt strong masculinity in his tall southern body, built on a steady supply of burgers and beers, with the middle bulged out with every breath as if trying hard to get free from the expensive suit jacket. To her he was from a different world, a world she can only dream of but never be a part of.
It was no wonder that she was overjoyed and awestruck when he sat at the same lunch table with her group. She saw it as a stroke of luck though it was a routine practice to assign the speakers to smaller groups to make them appear more accessible and present a sense of equality, at least for the duration of the hour-long lunch break.
In her anticipation and excitement, when it came her turn to introduce herself she choked. She put her hand out but her words did not.
James took her hand, “so what is your name?”
“…A..r..ti….I am Arti,”
She was embarrassed, but after a bit she chalked it out to first time nerves. Little she knew the choking and stammering of words would be the signature of their interaction.
Though she hoped but did not expect to hear from James, let alone meeting him. After all, he was too high up to have any regular interaction with her. Even the accidental meetings were close to impossible since he did not work in the same office building. And there was no reason for him to contact her. The conversation could not have been any more by the book. How she was doing. What was her experience as a woman of color. What the company could do for people like her. His door was always open if she ever needed to talk. She even worried that he probably forgot her name. Or worse he never got it given how she messed it up.
But she did hear. He slacked her: “Hi Arti, Hope you are doing well.”
She checked the profile to make sure it was the same James. Only after checking and rechecking a few times, she was relaxed enough to see the rest of the message. He was telling her about a new initiative he is spearheading to promote diversity in the company, especially targeting the women of color. He wanted her to be aware and be a part of it. It will be good for the company and her. He did not mention that his pet project was running into difficulty due to lack of participation. This was more of a recruitment reach out than pure altruism.
Though the account was maintained by his team and James did not even write the text, she was not aware of that. In her ignorant bliss, she happily believed that he remembered her name and wanted to help her – her among all other people. He picked her. Ignorance was not only bliss but a blessing for her.
She replied and the messages kept coming. She felt special thinking she was communicating with James directly ascribing the formality of language as a reflection of his education and intellect. So when after a few weeks James was in the office and met her to discuss the opportunity as scheduled, ulike the first time she felt comfortable since in her mind they had been communicating for a while and became friendly, if not friends.Free from the rainstants of her usual shyness and awkwardness, given her last performance she over compensated and did not hold back and talked breathlessly. Her oversharing might have annoyed James under normal circumstances but in her naive enthusiasm he spotted an opportunity. He was experienced in spotting girls like her. In addition he had developed a soft spot for young ethenic girls for a while now. This was not his first rodeo.
He stared intently at her thick brown lips moving and opening wide. Pink tip of her tongue occasionally peeking over her teeth. He noticed her jaw was wider even for her round face. He barely listened to her words. Her dusky curvy young short body covered in bright color fabric felt like an off brand cheap and unhealthy brownie full of sugary and fatty joy wrapped in shiny packaging that you get at a run down gas station on the side of a freeway in the middle of nowhere. So inviting. So irresistible. Even when slightly damaged. He was advised and would be wise to stay away from such guilty pleasures but he knew he could not resist. What is the point of power and privilege if you cannot gorge on guilty pleasures when the mood strikes. And he knew how to hide his stash. He had done it so many times before.
The meeting lasted more than the scheduled time. He had to paint the real picture for her.
“I believe you deserve the opportunity,” he said with his trademark southern charm and smile. He paused.
“Thank you, I cannot-” she tried to show her appreciation.
James waved his hand. “As you may know, I am pushing for this but not everyone on the committee is not. I will fight for you but final decision is not in my hands,” his factual and emotionless executive side continued.
“I am sure they will go with your recommendation.”
“Well, even if that is true, there are so many others. I have to be fair”
“Yes, of course.”
“The committee will favor Americans first. Candidates like Lisa Wong.”
“Yes.” The reasons for bringing up Lisa did not did not escape her mind. She cannot compete with second generation americanized young and pretty asian girls with their American education from top universities. They dress, talk, and live like a real American. Her Indian accent, traditional appearance, and average look would not go well.
“So you understand where you stand. I want to fight for you but I need to know how badly you want it.”
“ I really want it. I never wanted anything more….”
“Want is one thing. You also need to work hard and do what it takes.”
“Yes, I work very hard and will do whatever it takes”
“Well, that is a good start. But you have to convince others as well.”
“Anything you think is needed I would.”
“Also, I do not want to appear to do favors, you understand?”
“Yes, yes. Of course.”
“I should not do it but I will help unofficially and it is best to use our personal phone to keep in touch.”
“Sure. Here is my number,” she pulled out her phone to show.
“No, you need to call me first. Given all the rules nowadays, you need to initiate it. You need to be proactive to be successful. Is that clear?”
“Yes, I will send you a text and you will have my number.”
“Good, so that will be all for now. We will keep in touch,” he stood up.
She got up in a hurry and shook his hand. “Thank you Sir. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for all your help and for your guidance.”
“It is my pleasure. I hope you do not make me regret it,” he smiled as he walked out.
Arti sat back down. She could not believe what just happened. First time she met him, she saw her dream world. Now he gave her an invitation to that world. She could not believe it. As she walked out of the office, all she could think was not to squander it. Do the hard work. Do whatever it takes to prove it to James that she is worth his attention and help.
The text messages started informal but did not take long for it to get serious. Focus on what she can offer that will give her the edge. She was naive but not that naive. And knew she had to initiate and be proactive. She communicated her eagerness and understanding.
James wanted her to first check for himself before she was ready to convince others. James was clear. He did not want her to cheat. Nor did he want to cheat on his wife. This is a business transaction to show loyalty and taking one for the team. The team wanted to make sure she was committed to serving the needs of the group.
Her text was clear: “I am really eager to prove my commitment. Will do what you ask and when you ask.”
“We are not looking for someone who is only going to give lip service. Hope you are not one of those. We are looking for the ones with commitments that run deep,” came the reply.
“Yes, I understand. I am not shallow.”
“Good. And you are ready to work your way up from the ground floor?”
“Yes, I know many do not get this chance and we all have to start at the base.”
“It is good to know your place.”
“Yes, Sir. I know my place.”
The days in between she got the text with the meeting time and place and the day she met him are but hazy for Arti. All she remembered is the big executive meeting room. How the wood floor felt as she knelt down. How the wall behind her felt soft against her back but hard when her head hit it repeatedly. It felt smooth when she first placed her palm on it. But rough when James pulled her hands over her head and pressed in on the wall.
She remembered how she gagged and choked when James pushed it deep but she couldn’t take it. How she stammered her words as James kept asking her if she was going to keep her throat open and stay still. Choking and stammering like the first time. But much worse.
She remembered how James got frustrated and kept asking her to push through and not stop him when she gagged.
She remembered when she finally gave in. On her knees, against the wall, hands pulled up, trapped between James and the wall, back of her head slamming on the wall behind, with her mouth wide open, tears down her cheeks, and her eyes red.
Then she heard James hiss: “Just stay there and keep your throat open…you dirty little brown bitc—-,” she knew she was ready.
Ready to break the gag sealing.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/nivo28/empowerment_of_arti_breaking_the_gag_sealing_fm