The Unwanted Supply

The Unwanted Supply

Gavin

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Returning to my Chicago office after maternity leave, I craved the familiar rhythm of marketing and the comfort of normalcy. But on my very first day back, a strange woman from accounting, Brenda, confronted me with a bizarre, unsettling demand. Convinced my breast milk was the miraculous cure for her 19-year-old developmentally disabled son, Kevin, she insisted I provide it, "directly and on demand." My polite refusal ignited a terrifying, obsessive campaign of harassment. Brenda's actions escalated from chilling threats to physical confrontations, culminating in a horrifying ambush in the company lactation room. She deliberately tore my clothes, began filming, and shamelessly urged her large son to assault me for my milk. Even after this grotesque attack, HR downplayed it as a mere "workplace dispute," paralyzed by Brenda's expert manipulation of Kevin's disability and her theatrical victimhood. Police, overwhelmed by her counter-accusations and her son' s condition, offered no arrests, only warnings. I was left reeling, violated, and utterly betrayed by a system designed to protect employees. Brenda's smug victory, coupled with subtle, continued threats, pushed me to the brink. How could I be safe when my workplace allowed such depravity, bending to one woman' s deranged obsession? With official help impossible and my personal safety compromised, I realized I had to fight back on my own terms. My retired Marine Sergeant father and powerful football-player nephew became my unexpected allies. Brenda had declared war; I decided it was time to find my own weapons.

Introduction

Returning to my Chicago office after maternity leave, I craved the familiar rhythm of marketing and the comfort of normalcy.

But on my very first day back, a strange woman from accounting, Brenda, confronted me with a bizarre, unsettling demand.

Convinced my breast milk was the miraculous cure for her 19-year-old developmentally disabled son, Kevin, she insisted I provide it, "directly and on demand."

My polite refusal ignited a terrifying, obsessive campaign of harassment.

Brenda's actions escalated from chilling threats to physical confrontations, culminating in a horrifying ambush in the company lactation room.

She deliberately tore my clothes, began filming, and shamelessly urged her large son to assault me for my milk.

Even after this grotesque attack, HR downplayed it as a mere "workplace dispute," paralyzed by Brenda's expert manipulation of Kevin's disability and her theatrical victimhood.

Police, overwhelmed by her counter-accusations and her son' s condition, offered no arrests, only warnings.

I was left reeling, violated, and utterly betrayed by a system designed to protect employees.

Brenda's smug victory, coupled with subtle, continued threats, pushed me to the brink.

How could I be safe when my workplace allowed such depravity, bending to one woman' s deranged obsession?

With official help impossible and my personal safety compromised, I realized I had to fight back on my own terms.

My retired Marine Sergeant father and powerful football-player nephew became my unexpected allies.

Brenda had declared war; I decided it was time to find my own weapons.

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