I should mention that the VP is divorced as I am and seems to think he is quite a ladies man. His secretary had warned me early on to avoid situations where we would be alone especially if he has been drinking. Over the past year I had endured a number of his clumsy attempts to turn a business lunch or dinner into a tryst. I must admit that the first situation I found myself in was my fault -- I just can’t help being a tease. But ever since I have made the effort to be professional and allow him to believe I think he is witty and brilliant even though I loathe the obnoxious boorish man. In any event my boss thought it would be good if I went to the party and I should be fine since I do know many of the people that would be attending.

At any rate the party was held at the VP’s home which was certainly large enough for the seventy or more people that showed up. I drove over to his house from my motel and arrived about 7:00 knowing that the party would be going strong by that time. A little after ten the party was starting to wind down. The VP had been chatting me up, as usual, all evening and wanted me to stay supposedly to cover a few things we hadn’t touched on in our earlier meetings at the office.

Well by eleven I was seated near the bar in his living room watching him say goodbye to the last of his guests. I realized I was on my own since only a few of the catering staff were around -- mostly they were in the kitchen cleaning up. I stood up as he walked over to me. He was smiling broadly saying “I’ve been looking forward to spending a few quiet moments with you and sharing a nightcap.”

As he and I were talking he kept moving closer to me and I kept backing up until I was up against the bar. At that point he put his hands on my arms and tried to pull me to him -- I guess to kiss me. As I was pushing him away I dropped my wine glass. It shattered on the marble tile floor. For some reason this really annoyed him and he squeezed my arms really hard and pushed them back against the edge of the bar. I was scared and embarrassed. What I did next was almost a reflex. I kneed him in the groin. He grunted and let go of me as he doubled up backing away. He was having trouble keeping his balance and wine had made the floor slick so suddenly his legs went out from under him and he just sat down hard on the floor. He was so surprised that he just sat there saying “AAH-AAH-AAH.” I asked him if he was alright and he just nodded his head yes. But try as he may he couldn’t stand up. He rolled over on his side in obvious pain so I ran into the kitchen and got the two women to help me. We managed to slide a chair over next to him and got him into it. He was still bent over when I realized it was more than his groin that was causing him all his distress. The two women were feeling awkward and asked if I didn’t need them anymore they would go back to cleaning up. With a nod of my head they headed off to the kitchen. After a few minutes he managed to straighten up and asked if I would help him to his bed. I was immediately apprehensive but he asked me again almost pleading. He put his left hand on my shoulder and I put my arm around his waist as we walked slowly down the hall to his bedroom. He was still upset and mumbled that he was having “back spasms” and his “ass hurt.”

Once he reached his bed he sat down gingerly and then asked me if I would pull off his shoes. I knelt down and leaned forward and began working on removing his shoes. I glanced up and realized he was staring down my dress. He had a smile on his face that was more like a sneer. I should mention that I’m forty years old, five feet nine inches tall, wear a size 10 and have a 36C bust-line. That night I was wearing my “little black dress” with a seamless camisole instead of a bra. The camisole doesn’t hide much but it does provide some support for the “girls.” Well he got an eyeful and I realized he was still being a jerk. As I placed my hand on the edge of the bed to stand up he hooked a finger over the front of my dress and pulled down sharply. Besides pulling my dress down I fell forward causing the top of my head to bang into the right side of his face. It actually didn’t hurt me all that much but he was holding his face with both hands. I was so mad at what he did I slapped him, called him an asshole, and demanded an apology. He sneered and said “you still owe me a lot more than a peek at your tits you prissy bitch.”

I stepped back and realized that he had not only pulled my dress down but had also caused my breasts to spill out of my camisole. Well I stood up and began getting everything back in place and my dress rearranged. I calmed down and realized I needed to get control of this situation. He was still lying on the bed mumbling. I asked him yet again if he was OK. He grunted that he needed an icepack; actually he needed two, one for his eye and another for his back. I turned around and walked down the hall to the room where the bar had been set up, got a tall glass, put in two ice cubes, filled it with vodka, added a dash of lemon, a dash of lime, and a tablespoon of sugar. I walked back to the room told him to drink it all while I got the ice packs. But first I went to the linen closet in his bathroom and picked up two hand towels. I just had an inspiration on how I could cool him down.

I walked out to the sunroom; actually it is an enclosed swimming pool and patio. This was where the food had been laid out on a table holding a large ice sculpture. The sculpture was setting on a framework that had been filled with dry ice. The dry ice had done a remarkable job of preventing the sculpture from melting. Well using a knife I found on the floor I broke out several pieces of dry ice and wrapped them in the towels. For those of you not familiar with the properties of dry ice allow me to explain. A piece of dry ice has a surface temperature of -109.3 degrees Fahrenheit. Dry ice also possesses a very nice feature called sublimation – instead of melting it turns directly into carbon dioxide gas rather than a liquid. I left the towels and dry ice on the table and went into the kitchen and asked the ladies for a pair of zip-lock bags with some crushed ice. I explained the VP thought that some ice might ease the back-pain from his fall. Once I had the two “ice packs” I collected my towels and went back to the bedroom.

In the bedroom I found the VP sound asleep snoring on the bed and the glass of Vodka empty. During the next five minutes I got him undressed and rolled over on his stomach. I crawled up on the bed to spread his legs apart and pulled his penis back so it was sticking out between his legs. His scrotum was large and loose, I wondered how old he really was. Anyway in this position his testicles rested on either side of his flaccid penis. I stepped back and watched him for a minute; he was still snoring and clearly sleeping heavily. So I went into his bathroom and got another hand towel but this one I soaked in water and squeezed it so it wasn’t drippy wet. I folded it lengthwise and crawled back up on the bed. I worked the middle of the damp towel under his penis leaving the two ends lying on the back of his thighs. I waited to see if he would wakeup or move. He was absolutely motionless and the bastard continued snoring. Next I opened the towels containing the dry ice and let it tumble right on top of his scrotum and penis. I quickly pulled both ends of the towel up and folded them over so that the dry ice would be held securely against his “stuff.” I used the other towels to keep it all tight and in place until the moist towel froze. It seemed to take a long while but I’m sure it was less than a minute. Finally I rolled up the two dry hand towels and placed them so the dry ice pack surrounding his penis wouldn’t be up against either thigh.

I carefully eased off the bed after I put one of the plastic bags on the small of his back. I inspected my work and then pulled the covers over him. He was still snoring so I placed the remaining plastic bag on his pillow next to his face but not really touching it. I turned around and as I walked out dimmed the bedroom lights giving the room a charming warm glow.

I checked the kitchen and saw that the ladies were just about done. I told them the VP had had too much party but was tucked in bed asleep. I thanked them for their help and told them I was leaving so they could lock-up.

I went back to my motel and worried all night long about what happened. First I fretted that I hadn’t used enough dry ice and when he woke up he wouldn’t even realize anything happened. Then I feared I went too far; he would call the police, I’d be ruined. The next day on the flight home I decided to go to my boss first thing Monday morning. I planned to tell him everything that happened except I would leave out mentioning anything about the dry ice.

Our company shuts down between Christmas and New Years and encourages people to take the week before Christmas off if they have vacation time. So when I got into work on Monday it was very quiet. After talking to my boss I continued to worry. On Tuesday my boss talked to the head of their marketing department and found out that the VP was in the hospital. The information he received was very vague, something about “a burn and some male problems” but the VP should be back to work right after the holidays. When my boss got off the phone he called me in and told me what he heard and looked at me quizzically. I was equally puzzled. We speculated that something must have happened the next day – maybe he spilled scalding coffee in his lap.

I was dying to know more so I went back to my office and called the VP’s secretary knowing that she would have all the particulars. She told me that he had awakened early Sunday morning and realized that he had no feeling around his genitals but his thighs felt like pins and needles. He got up and went to the bathroom -- he saw his penis and scrotum were absolutely pure white. He took a hot shower and nearly passed out from the pain. When he tried to pee he discovered that he had absolutely no feeling, “you know where,” except it felt like fire inside. He called his doctor and was told to get down to the emergency room. Well when he was examined they couldn’t understand what happened; it looked like some form of a burn (I knew severe frostbite can look like a burn). On Monday they had to operate on him and remove, as they said, “all the dead tissue.” She said she talked to her friend, a surgical nurse, who said that the dead tissue included his scrotum, testicles, and most of his penis. The nurse thought he had only about half an inch at the base that could be saved. I told her I was shocked. I did explain that we were together by the bar when he had a bad fall but I thought he was fine just a little shaken and sore. She said his daughter-in-law had called the catering people and they said he was drunk and had taken a fall but it didn’t seem too serious. They also said that I had helped him get up and get back to his bedroom. She mentioned to me that his daughter-in-law had gone to his house and found the two zip lock bags that had been used for icepacks and brought them to the hospital to show the doctor. There wasn’t more than a wine glass full of water in each of them. The doctor was positive that this couldn’t have caused the problem and there was no evidence of spilt liquids in the bed or anything unusual that could explain what had happened. So it was a puzzle, even the VP couldn’t understand what had happened. He did admit to the doctor that he had been drinking and that a friend had helped him get in bed after his “tumble” and got the ice packs for his face and back. He also admitted to taking a Percocet after he got in bed.

During the first few weeks after the incident my fear of being blamed melted away and was replaced with a feeling that verged on euphoria. I kept reminding myself “I’m responsible for that bastard being castrated and having his penis removed, well at least most of it.” Even now I am still amazed at how satisfying it feels.

Well four weeks after the party the VP returned to work. One of the first things he did was to call my boss. After a few perfunctory comments concerning the VP’s health my boss pointedly remarked that when I had returned from the trip I was visibly upset due to his behavior at the party. The VP weasel-worded his distress and regret that I evidently misunderstood his behavior. He admitted that he had overindulged and some of his comments and actions could have easily been misconstrued by me. If this was the case he sincerely apologized. When my boss told me about this conversation I became angry but also relieved that the VP was clueless about what I had done to him. I smiled sadly and assured my boss I would put my feeling aside and continue to work for the success of the joint venture. I told him I was due to make another trip soon and would schedule a meeting to see the VP to let him know I was willing to forgive and forget.

So when I emailed the VP’s secretary to see if he would be available for a meeting I was surprised when he called to say he would be pleased to get together with me and would hold his entire morning open for our meeting. His secretary later sent me an email assuring me that he has calmed down and is actually easier to be around. Consequently I was very curious to see how much he had changed so I choose my wardrobe very carefully for this trip. It would of course be business attire but I also wanted it to be provocative. I generally wear skirts but I selected one that rides up alarmingly when I sit on a couch such as the one in the VP’s office. To go with the skirt and jacket I picked out a jersey top with a loose scoop neckline. The top clings right at my bust line so when the “girls” jiggle it is very apparent. Also when I bend over the scoop shows them off very nicely.

When I arrived I signed in and went directly to his office. This time I was looking forward to being alone with him. Evidently his residual testosterone or maybe a supplement was working because he couldn’t stop himself from trying to undress me with his eyes during our meeting. When I was sitting on his couch he continued to gape at my legs and if his attention wandered all I had to do was re-cross them or lean over to pick up some papers on the coffee table. One time when I stood up and bent down to point out a feature on one of the photos he got a perfect view of the “girls” which disturbed “Nubby” (his secretary’s new nickname for him) so much he lost track of what he was saying. It was thrilling. I was so glad that I decided to wear a panty liner. It was sopping wet by noontime.