Yes, There is Something Else I Want…
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Author's Note: I have no idea how tall Sam Rockwell is, but in the movie he seems to be shorter than most of his cast mates. So, for this story, I decided to run with that.
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The petite brunette whimpered as the man above her quickly removed his softening member from her aching hole. She knew better than to move or speak before she was told she could—Hammer had drilled it into her that he never wanted to see the faces of the women he fucked after he had climaxed. Or even during sex, for that matter which was why he preferred her to lie face down. As well, his whores were to be silent until spoken to.
For after this morning's disastrous Senate Armed Services Committee and Justin Hammer's abject and complete humiliation from Tony Stark in front of a worldwide audience, the diminutive CEO of Hammer Industries was out for blood.
To his equals, he was a little terrier, nipping at their heels, trying to get their attention. To his subordinates, he was a bully; although a filthy rich one with enough power and money to buy the serious attention he craved. Like all bullies, he preferred to pick on those smaller than himself. Especially women. And especially women in his employ.
"Stop blubbering and consider yourself lucky," he said and she heard the sneer in his voice. "I could have asked you for anal." As quickly as it had come, his jovial mood disappeared. "When I leave, then you can go wash up," he snapped. "Sometimes, I don't know why I even bother with you, you know that? Every other woman on this planet is a size two. Or less. But you? You're a fucking size ten. You make me sick…I mean, you're fat, ugly and stupid and God knows what other deficiencies you've got. Even so, I want your ass back in the Queens office by tomorrow, or are you too dumb to figure that out?"
As soon as the door was slammed shut, Kate Brady gripped the comforter hard in her teeth as the tears and physical pain flooded her body. As she had done countless times before, Kate balled her fist and began punching her thigh over and over again until the urge to hurt herself—brought on by despair and anger—was sated.
When she felt strong enough to get up, she rummaged through the nightstand for the bottle of pills she had left there. Grimacing at the taste, she chewed five of the large Oxycocet tablets until they were fine enough to swallow. She limped to the bathroom and taking a paper covered glass from the vanity top, she poured enough water to wash the pills safely down.
She sat on the icy tiled floor as she turned on the faucets and waited for the imported Italian marble tub to fill with scalding water. A good hard scrubbing would take away some of the pain and the respite from narcotics would dull the shame temporarily but the feeling of worthlessness would remain.
Probably the only reason he hadn't sodomized her or used his belt this time was because bloody bed sheets in the swankiest hotel in the nation's capital would cause some very influential Washington tongues to wag. With the humiliating public debacle this morning was still the talk of the town, even his usual army of spin doctors couldn't cover the gossip that would undoubtedly ensue if word got out about his true, hidden nature…the one that only his underlings saw.
However, as much as she hated Justin Hammer, Kate knew that she could never leave him. For only he could help her. Only he could tell her what her heart ached to know about the missing piece of herself that she gave up all those years ago.