Author's Notes:
Satyr Play is my attempt to dabble in the realm of magic. It's not a genre I typically work in, so I'm NOT going to play by the rules. If I break any preconceived notions or established guidelines, too bad. ;)
That said, I hope you enjoy it.
No effort is made in this tale to explain the backstory, so it is highly recommended you read the stories in the following order:
All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older. Most aren't even human... or real. Or are they? Dun dun DAH!
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Satyr Play
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Chapter 1
Stanley Garin was a serious young man. He wasn't a big, powerful, or even a particularly handsome man, but he was intelligent and passionate.
What was he passionate about?
Not sports. His five-foot-seven, slimly built body and lack of athletic abilities made him despise team sports as he'd always been excluded.
Politics? Boring!
Women? While he yearned for female companionship, he did so in silence as his tongue betrayed him around women he found attractive.
No, what Stanley loved most was computers. He loved programming them. He loved building them. He loved connecting them together. He just... understood them! He knew what to expect from them, and they behaved in rational, predictable ways for him.
That wasn't to say he'd never encountered a faulty piece of equipment, but he had an innate ability to quickly identify the flaky bit, replace it, and restore order to his life once more.
Simple! Much simpler than relationships with people.
Having such a serious nature, he'd struggled with the social aspects of school from the junior to the senior grades. He was labeled a weird nerd by the other kids. This was an even more shunned subclass of the belittled nerd social strata in the school's ecosystem. He was smart, quiet, and easy to teach, so the teachers were grateful for one less challenge in their days.
Once he'd reached college, though, he came into his own and excelled in every technical course he took. From network administration and architecture, database administration and data analysis, software programming, web design, and information security, he'd excelled in anything he could enroll in that involved his beloved computers.
He'd just graduated at the top of his class. He knew he had prospects out the wazoo... if he'd allowed himself to use silly terms like wazoo. He was destined to work at a Fortune 500 company.
So what the hell was he doing in the server room of this small, obscure financial investment house in lower Manhattan? He gazed around at the equipment in despair. Older generation switches with flickering amber trouble lights. Old-style 4U servers in the server racks droning with the unmistakable sound of wobbly and failing power supply fans. The power protection was a joke, and their backup system? What backup system?
He turned his face to the stern-looking woman giving him this tour. She'd said her name was Olive. She was maybe an inch taller than him but four times his width. Greying brown hair, no style clothing, and a grim look in her eyes. She was probably only in her fifties, but she had jowls! He had no trouble speaking with her. There was no physical attraction at all.
This was his very first job interview since graduating, and he was only doing it as a favor to one of his professors who'd sent him the recommendation. It had been going along fine until she led him into the labyrinth in the basement.
That was another thing! They kept their servers in the basement! IN MANHATTAN! They were below sea level!
"Can you work with this?" Olive asked him with a gravelly voice.
"No."
Her thick eyebrows went up. "No? But you came highly recommended. They said you were top of your class! They called you a savant with technology!"
"Really? Somebody called me a savant?" Stanley said in surprise, secretly pleased.
She scowled at him, and his hint of a smile disappeared. "You're saying you can't maintain this system?" she growled.
"No, I'm saying your company can't afford to maintain this system. It's about to fall over. You need to replace it—soon! Now! And you need to move it up at least three floors." Stanley was past the point of worrying about getting this job, not that he'd expected to actually accept it. He could feel the tech down in this pit, crying out for a quick and merciful death. It was time for some ugly truth.
"Listen, I don't know what trolls built this system," she glanced at him sharply, "but they did you no favors. Your company is in serious danger of losing its most valuable asset, its information! If you don't take immediate steps to relocate your server room, replace this stuff with more current and stable technology, and get some emergency power protection and a proper backup system, your company could die! It hurts me to see this. You need to address this before you hire anyone to maintain it."
Seeing the scale of the network, he knew they needed to hire a team to replace it. He looked around, rubbing his suddenly stiff neck muscles, and sighed. The plaintive whine of the power supply fans was getting under his skin.
When he turned back to his interviewer, he froze in surprise. Standing behind her was a tall, raven-haired beauty in a very expensive suit. The woman oozed authority and wealth, and Stanley's mouth immediately went dry.
"It's refreshing to hear such honesty in a job interview," the woman said with a voice like silk-wrapped steel. Stanley could only stare. Her Spanish heritage was evident in her lovely accent.
"Ms. Villamor! To what do I owe the honor of a visit from our CEO today?" the plump woman gushed, her dour expression banished in her employer's presence. Olive was practically simpering.
"Normally, I wouldn't come down here at all, except my people can't get their work done when their access to the Internet disappears every five minutes," the tall woman said calmly, but there was definitely a threat beneath her tone. Stanley was mesmerized by the woman's voice.
He picked up a little tremble as the subway went by and heard a corresponding odd vibration noise coming from the server racks. His entire being vibrated in sympathy with the distressed hardware. He turned his wide eyes to Olive.
"The racks are bolted down to the concrete floors with no vibration dampening? The building's over a subway! I'm surprised the servers haven't shaken themselves apart!" he gasped, then quickly leaned away from Olive when the woman turned to snarl at him. For just the briefest second, he could have sworn her eyes were glowing green!
"OIive! Leave us!" Ms. Villamor barked, and Stanley flinched. Olive bowed her head and rushed from the room.
Stanley was mortified. This job interview was going from bad to worse. Now he was face to face with the gorgeous brunette executive, and he felt his tongue die in his mouth as he looked up into her dark eyes. Were they brown... or dark gold? Either way, they held him fast.
She was much taller than he was, maybe six feet in her two-inch heels, and stunningly beautiful! Her eyes were her best feature, but it was a close contest as the rest of her was also pretty spectacular. The expensive business suit emphasized her lush curves, and it was all he could do to keep his eyes from roaming them.
Her head tilted ever so slowly as she gazed at him. The tip of a pink tongue slipped out briefly to wet her sensual lips.
"Do you know how to save us from these technological dangers?" she asked as she slowly raised one exquisitely shaped eyebrow.
"Y-y-you hire a network d-duh-design firm to come in and analyse your c-c-c-... your system as it is n-n-now and tell them what your p-puh-perceived needs will be for five to tuh-ten years from now. Then give them the m-money they'll need to build it," Stanley stuttered and gasped his way to the answer. He was sweating profusely before this smartly dressed businesswoman, and his face felt like it was on fire.
"But could you do it?"
Stanley froze. "Me?" he squeaked.
"Yes, if we supplied a large team of workers to follow your explicit instructions, could you design a replacement system and have it up and running within... let's say a month, two at most. The team would work around the clock on your orders."
"W-wouldn't you rather hire a c-company with p-puh-previous experience?" he exclaimed.
"You didn't answer my question. Could. You. Do. It."
He stared into her eyes, but his mind was already rapidly assembling a list of required components. He found himself nodding. He froze at his own unexpected audacity.
"Do you think you could look at what might be causing the Internet outages?" she asked.
He blinked, then turned to walk down the row of server cases, looking for any visible sign of where the public lines entered the system. At the end of the row, behind the last rack, he finally found a router mounted to a sheet of wood improperly bolted to a wall. His eyes widened in shock when he saw the crappy little consumer-level router, which had only the most rudimentary security features. Another subway train went by as he watched, and the wood sheet swayed. The length of network cable between the router and rack was a little short and pulled tight with each sway. This was tugging at the connector. He turned and jumped as Ms. Villamor was standing very close behind him. He looked up into her curious eyes.
"This one duh-doesn't take a genius to f-figure out." He turned to face the hardware to pretend to be talking to it. Much better. He could feel himself relax. "Replace this cable with a longer one and the problem with your connection to the Internet should be resolved, temporarily at least. Someone should secure this panel to the wall properly as well. More importantly, the router needs replacing with something that can actually give your company a truly secure connection!"
She turned and left momentarily, returning with a bin of network cables. He looked at her in surprise.
"We need to s-suh-schedule a downtime window to...." He stopped when he saw her annoyed look.
"I did mention everyone was already experiencing downtime every five minutes. I believe we can dispense with the formalities this time," she insisted, and he nodded.
Looking in the crate, he selected the appropriate cable and quickly swapped out the existing one, running the excess up along the cable channel hanging from the ceiling. He turned back to her and nodded.
"That's it?" she gasped.
"Yes."
"Did I hear you mentioning the server room shouldn't be in the basement?" she asked calmly, the hint of a smile on her lovely lips.
He nodded once more.
"Follow me," she said and spun on her high heels, dropping the bin of cables under a table on her way by. Stanley found himself following her out of the labyrinth to the elevator bank. He struggled to keep his eyes off of her lushly curved ass. Her perfume was light and almost imperceptible, but it made him feel... just a little tipsy and more than a little stimulated.
She stepped into the elevator, which opened as she approached it, and Stanley stepped in beside her. She tapped her access card against a sensor, and the elevator chimed recognition. She pressed the button for the top level. They rode in silence, and Stanley struggled to calm his mind... and his erection.
The elevator stopped, and they stepped off into a lobby. The woman nodded to the two large men in dark suits standing on either side of some double doors. They nodded and opened the doors for her. Stanley looked at them with wide eyes as they trained their gaze on him the entire time he walked past. He got the impression they were watching for the slightest hint that he was a threat, and they'd take him down. Hard.
Ms. Villamor led him down a long hallway and stopped before an opaque glass door with another sensor. Once she tapped her access card to it and pressed a control, the liquid crystal in the glass cleared, and he could see a large boardroom table and many chairs around it. The room was empty otherwise. She opened the door and walked in. Stanley followed. There was a sudden hush when the door closed as the room was soundproofed.
"We are on the top floor. This room is in the center of the floor, away from all the windows. It's used once a month. Otherwise, it remains empty. If we were to build the new network room here, we could build a new boardroom in the basement," she suggested.
He looked at the room and took in the twelve-foot ceilings. The carpet would have to go. They could take it back to the cement floor and add a raised floor. He could see the racks of servers, the air conditioning vents and exhaust, the power panels, and the cable guide.
He walked over to the far wall and put his hand against it, trying to envision where the cables would run to the lower floors and where the room's heat could be dumped.
He was nodding to himself as the picture came together in his mind.
"Would this room suffice?" she asked.
"Do we have roof access? Permission to install a diesel backup generator there? Extra air conditioning units?" Stanley was lost in a world of design and forgot to be nervous as he answered automatically.
She was tapping something into her phone. "I will find out. We own the building, so permission only depends on city building codes." She looked at him. "Do we have a deal?"
The question snapped Stanley out of his beautiful daydream and slapped him in the face with reality. He was only recently out of college; this would be his first job! He wasn't qualified to do what she was asking. He opened his mouth, and nothing came out. He closed it and cleared his throat. He faced the wall.
"I really think you would be better off hiring a company that does this kind of work. I'm hardly qualified, and the task is huge! They'll have access to a large group of installers to do the cable runs and the server builds. I'm just talking about the hardware here. I still have no idea about all the software you currently use and what upgrades you'll need to move to."
"I can get you a team of thirty workers. Absolutely dedicated, hard-working, and dependable," she insisted.
He turned to stare at the woman who was putting her company's future in his hands. He was overwhelmed.
"Why?"
She tilted her head again. "Why what?"
"Why are you p-p-putting this much f-fuh-faith in my ab-abilities? You d-duh-don't even know me!" he gasped.
"Olive wasn't the only one who read your transcript from the college. They were quite impressed with your abilities. Savant was the word they used. I know Professor Stagg. He doesn't give praise like that unless it's deserved."
He felt completely off balance. The old man had been a thorn in his side throughout his five years at the college. Stanley got excellent grades in the old man's classes, but he'd had to fight for every point. To hear he had such a high opinion of him now... he didn't know what to think.
"Besides, I knew a Garin... a long time ago. He was... a most extraordinary man," she smiled gently to herself as she remembered. When she returned from her memories, she pinned Stanley once more with her dark eyes. "Do we have a deal?"
Stanley's inner voices were screaming at him. The cautious, timid one wanted him to tell her he was flattered, but he'd pass. The louder voice told him he needed to accept this challenge as it was a once-in-a-lifetime deal.
"Okay."
"Okay?" she said with a raised eyebrow.
"S-sorry. Yes, we have a d-deal," he said, his voice quavering.
"Good. Follow me." She spun once more, and Stanley rushed to catch up.
She walked a little further down the hall and came to another glass door, but it was clear, and he could see it led to a small waiting room with an executive assistant's desk. A beautiful young woman sat behind the desk and looked up with a smile at them as they entered. Her eyes widened when she looked at him.
Stanley felt his tongue go numb once more as the woman was a younger version of Ms. Villamor. Same long raven hair, except hers was pulled back into a ponytail. Same large, dark eyes, high cheekbones, and a slim nose above full sensual lips. The only thing she was missing was the impression of power and dominance. Instead, she seemed to exude a warm and happy friendliness.
"Good morning, Mother."
"Ah!" Stanley thought.
"Paloma, you know you're supposed to address me as Ms. Villamor at the office," the older woman sighed as her daughter's face slipped into a contrite expression. Her eyes slid over to Stanley, and her smile was back.
"Hello!"
"Hi!" Stanley managed.
"This is Stanley Garin. Stanley, this is Paloma Villamor, your executive assistant."
"What?!?" Stanley gasped as Paloma's smile brightened.
"You've found a replacement for Mr. Hokensev?" the young woman chirped happily.
"Yes, just now."
Stanley was looking between the two women, and his knees were beginning to wobble. The mother saw his trembling, gently took his arm, and guided him into his new office to sit in one of the chairs before the large desk. Stanley's eyes took in the heavy and dark stained wooden furniture filling the room.
"This furniture belonged to the previous occupant of this office. You may change it to suit your taste." She turned to the doorway where Paloma was hovering. "Dear, contact the head of HR, Ms. Gunderan, and have her bring a full executive contract." She looked back at Stanley. "You can start today, yes?"
Stanley was taking slow, deep breaths to calm himself and just nodded.
"Is he all right?" Paloma asked.
"Yes, dear. Ms. Gunderan, please," the mother said, and Stanley picked up the steel in her tone. Paloma disappeared from the doorway instantly.
"I- I'm s-sorry for being a b-bother," Stanley gasped as he struggled to get his brain back to functioning. It was all happening so quickly. When the day started, he'd hoped he would end up in his own cubicle in a pod farm surrounded by other techs, maybe in charge of ordering and installing network adapters in workstations. Here he was, sitting in his top-floor office with an executive assistant, a gorgeous one at that, responsible for the company's entire IT infrastructure! It wasn't supposed to happen this way.
Paloma reappeared in the doorway. "She's on her way."
"Thank you, dear. Have Mr. Hokensev's personal items been removed from the room?"
"Yes."
Ms. Villamor caught Stanley's eyes again, and he felt locked in place. "Do you like this furniture, or would you like to change it."
He used the excuse to look away from her amazing eyes. "It's kind of... heavy, and the room is... dark? Are those blackout curtains over the windows?" he asked in puzzlement. The woman nodded with a frown as if they offended her, too. "I'd like to remove those." He looked at the furniture. "Could I get something modern? Glass and steel?"
When she looked around the room, he did as well. "I like the desk lamp and the floor lamp, though." They were the only two items he did like. The rest made him feel uneasy. He glanced at the woman standing in the doorway.
Paloma had a wide smile, and she quietly clapped her hands. Her mother snorted quietly.
"Yes, you can have this," she said to him.
She turned to her daughter. "Dear, I believe you will find Mr. Garin here far more agreeable to work for than Mr. Hokensev." Paloma's smile just got brighter. "Summon the workers," the mother said, and her daughter disappeared again.
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