Athena Corp Chronicles Intern Meant Tramp
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The Intern. Ch.01. free porn video
Dear reader be warned this is a slow build. For those looking for speedy satisfaction look elsewhere.
“Why the fuck would I need an assistant, Mo?” I almost screamed at Maureen.
She’s my oldest friend and I love her dearly, but she was driving me up the wall. She’d come around half an hour before right when I was in the middle of trying to sort out a mess and, despite numerous hints, had insisted on making coffee and forcing me to stop and drink it with her. I know she had the best of intentions, but this was time I couldn’t afford to waste.
I run a small but quite successful catering company specialising in private dinners. Everything is out-sourced and I’m mostly the coordinator and I was in the middle of trying to tie a million loose ends together for a dinner for 10 that was being put on Lord and Lady La-di-da at the weekend. I had phone calls to make and I was up to my armpits in paperwork. Lovely as the coffee was and enjoyable as Mo’s company would have been at any other time, I was conscious of the clock ticking away.
“But look at you Flick, you’re being run ragged,” she replied, “you don’t look like you’ve slept for a week.”
“Oh thanks,” I glared at her, but I knew my hair was a tousled mess.
“Just someone to do the boring routine bits so you can get on with the creative bits you do best.”
“I don’t have the time to train someone up,” I countered, “much less waste time on reading CV’s and interviewing people.”
“No problem,” she said with a grin, “its all sorted. There’s this young girl I know who’d be ideal. Local girl and looking for a job. She can type and file and whatever else it is that secretaries do these days.” She paused and suddenly looked concerned. “Are we even allowed to call them secretaries? Don’t they have to have some posh new title? Anyway, whatever, she’d be ideal. Why not give her a try?”
“I really don’t have the time Mo, not with this big do coming up at the weekend. I have a lot riding on this.”
“Ok so first thing next week then.” She interrupted me as I was about to speak, “I won’t take no for an answer. I’ll bring her round first thing Monday morning and we can interview her together.”
And she placed her empty cup down on my desk and rose from her chair, effectively cutting off all argument. That is so typical of Mo, I thought as she swept out of my office. I resigned myself to the inevitable and simply chose to ignore it and got back to my work. My sigh was a mixture of relief at finally saying farewell to Mo and partly at the mountain of stuff I still had to do.
Somehow, I managed to survive the rest of that week and the weekend was a resounding success judging by the size of the bonus I was given. I had high hopes of some repeat and new orders coming in on the back of it. I had to ring round all my ladies and thank them for their hard work and then send them their share of the bonus. I’d completely forgotten about Mo and her devious plans until, half way through the morning, she swept into the office.
“Morning, darling,” she gushed, and she leant over and kissed me on each cheek. “I have Yvonne outside.”
“Yvonne?” my fuddled brain struggling to make sense of things.
“Your new assistant,” she declared, “don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already.”
“I didn’t know you were being serious.”
“I’m always serious when it comes to rescuing friends. Now, no arguments, sit at your desk and look like a boss, I’ll just tidy things up a bit.”
I couldn’t argue against the force of nature that was Mo, so I simply sat down in my chair while Mo gathered up piles of paper from the desk and simply dumped them on the floor behind me. I started to protest but Mo shushed me saying, “Yvonne can sort them all out later, it’s what she’s for.”
With the desk now almost empty apart from a phone and a notepad the place bore some semblance of efficiency. Mo grabbed the only other chair in the room and came and sat next to me. I knew she wasn’t planning to be a simple observer.
“We need another chair,” I tried to point out, but Mo scoffed at that.
“Maybe later, but we have to establish the boss employee thing first.” Then with a final wink at me she called out, “Yvonne, get your pretty little ass in here now.”
I glanced at Mo with a look of horror at the way she’d spoken but she simply grinned at me and leant over to whisper in my ear, “Gotta show her who’s boss … besides she loves it,” and she winked at me before turning to face Yvonne who was nervously entering the office. Mo pointed to a spot on the threadbare carpet in front of the desk and told her to stand there and then leant back in her chair and looked at the poor girl.
I was left with little choice but to do the same. What I saw was a pretty girl of about twenty dressed quite conservatively in a charcoal grey skirt and a white blouse. She appeared to be wearing some sort of hose but whether stocking or tights I couldn’t tell. Her skirt was maybe an inch or two shorter than might be normal for an office and there were at least two too many buttons undone on her blouse, certainly enough to show the hint of lacy pinkness of her bra. As both our eyes swept up and down, she almost visibly squirmed beneath our gazes.
Mo nudged me in the ribs and without bothering to lower her voice commented, “I told you she was a nice bit of eye-candy. If nothing else, she’ll decorate the office nicely.”
I watched as a pink flush covered Yvonne’s face and spread slowly downwards to complement nicely with her pink bra. I had known Mo for so many years that I had become immune to her outrageous behaviour and I have to admit that part of me was enjoying watching the poor girl’s embarrassment.
“You’re looking lovely today, my dear,” Mo complimented her, and her blush became if anything even deeper. “I was telling her what a great ass you have so why not turn around and show us.”
To my amazement the girl made no sign of protest but immediately shuffled round and faced away from us.
“So, Flick, was I lying?” she asked me.
I took a long hard look and had to agree that it was indeed a very fine ass. Her skirt was good quality and well-tailored and showed it to perfection.
“Wouldn’t you like to see that pert little rump bobbing around the office?”
I nodded in reply, not trusting myself to speak.
“So, what do you say, Hire or Fire?” she asked using the catchphrase of a popular TV programme.
Suddenly there was little doubt in my mind. I really did need a competent pair of hands around the office to take some of the workload as, I had to admit, it was getting too much for me. In addition, having something young and pretty to ogle at would help with the stress of work.
“Turn back around Yvonne,” I said, deciding it was time to take charge of my own office. “Tell me about yourself.”
She turned back around still with the blush showing. “Thank you, Mrs Pearson,” she managed to get out, her voice shaky and uncertain.
“I’ll just stop you there, dear, its Ms not Mrs Pearson.”
“I’m sorry Ms Pearson.”
“That’s Ok you weren’t to know. Now tell me about your previous work experience.”
And thus began the interview proper. I tried to concentrate and not be distracted by that so enticing glimpse of pink bra and not to speculate about whether it was stockings or tights hidden under her skirt while secretly hoping it was the former. She gave me a short list of previous employers and her reason for leaving them. A couple of them I already knew along with their reputations as notorious letches and I read between the lines that they had tried it on with her as they had done with so many other young girls in the past. She assured me that she was a good typist and could do all the other things expected of her. In the end I could think of no good reason to say no so I stood up, held out my hand and welcomed her to my office. She beamed a huge smile, partly of relief and partly of gratitude. As she was already without work, I asked her to start tomorrow at 9.00, which she said would be fine.
“I’ll give you a lift home, Yvonne,” chimed in Mo, “go wait in the car and I’ll be right down.”
As the door closed behind her Mo shook my hand. “Good choice, my love, you’ll have fun with her I know you will. I think I might even stop off in a layby on the way home.” And she winked at me with a sly grin.
“I can’t have you interfering with members of my staff,” I protested jokingly.
“She doesn’t work for you until tomorrow so today the little bitch is mine,” and she kissed me on the cheek and swept out of the door. I had to hand it to her, not only could she make an entrance but her exits were often just as dramatic. The woman had no shame and I had to admire her for that.
The next day I got to work early intending to tidy the place up a bit and was pleasantly surprised to find Yvonne already on the doorstep. At least she was eager. I wished her a good morning and unlocked the door and she followed me in. I dumped my bag next to the desk and turned to look at her. She was dressed as before and still, I was delighted to see, with one too many buttons undone. She blushed as I examined her which is something I find very endearing. She looked shy and embarrassed as I walked slowly around her, looking at her from every angle until I was once more standing in front of her.
“You look very nice this morning Yvonne,” I said, smiling sweetly, “I’ll just explain a couple of things …” and I paused. “Dress code first. I have three separate dress codes in this office. The first is ‘respectable’ which means this has to be done up a little more,” and I reached out and closed the top of her blouse, hiding that tantalizing hint of pink bra. “This is for serious clients who I’m not out to impress or charm via my staff. They’re rare but I’ll give you good warning.”
I released my grip on her blouse and tidied up the vee of her neckline. The pink bra seemed to wink at me as I did so. So far so good as she’d made no move to shy away from me.
“The second is what I call ‘flirty’ which is how it is now. Some clients like a little hint of naughtiness and it distracts them which is the whole intention,” I continued, and I winked at her and she grinned knowingly.
“The third is when its just the two of us, and maybe for one or two special clients, and that is the ‘cute and sexy’ and that is with another button undone,” I said and reached out and undid the extra button. I rearranged the now deeper vee and more of her bra came into view. It looked expensive and it covered a pair of small breasts. It was as much as I could do to control myself and not grab them there and then. “Much better,” I told her, “Mo was right about eye-candy. You bring a little glamour to the office.”
“Thank you, Ms Pearson,” she replied.
“That’s such a mouthful I think we can shorten it to Miss, don’t you?”
“Yes, Miss.”
Time to get business-like and professional. I couldn’t spend all morning drooling over my new employee. My office wasn’t set up for two people so that had to be organised. In one corner was an old desk piled high with old files and stacks of loose papers. Next to it was a battered filing cabinet that was virtually empty as I’d had no time to organise things properly. So, I set her to try and make some sense of it all. It would be a good test for her to show what she could do and also give her a desk to work on.
I went and sat behind my desk and started to make some calls, all the while with one eye on her. I loved the way her skirt tightened over her bottom every time she bent over, it was quite distracting. Somehow, I managed to concentrate enough to sort out some contracts and by the time 11.00 came around most of the files had gone from her desk and disappeared into the gaping jaws of the filing cabinet. I was impressed. I didn’t want to interrupt her, so I got up and filled the kettle from the sink in the corner and managed to find two cups hiding under the litter.
“How do you like your coffee, Yvonne,” I called out to her making her jump.
“Oh, Miss, you should have let me do that,” she protested.
“Nonsense, you were making the place look tidy,” I joked, “now, black or white?”
“Um, white please, no sugar.”
I made two cups and took them back to my desk. I gestured at the only other chair in the office, next to mine and still where Mo had sat in it during the interview. She looked shy as she came and sat next to me. I handed her a cup and leant back.
“That looks a lot better already,” I said and then stopped abruptly. “Oh my god is that another phone?”
“Yes, Miss,”
“Wow a two phone office. We’ve just got professional,” I laughed.
She giggled endearingly and blushed.
“So what else will you need? I’m so used to being solo I’ve forgotten what an assistant might need.”
She looked shy, not knowing how far any requests could go.
“Another chair?”
That made sense. The only other chair was the one she sat on and it was a beaten-up second-hand dining chair of dubious quality. It was ok for the occasional client but now there were two of us in residence so to speak and we needed more.
“Anything else?” I queried.
“Some office stuff like staplers and hole-punchers and …” her voice trailed off.
“And what?”
“It’s a bit expensive, Miss but another computer. If I’m to write letters and stuff or keep spreadsheets.”
“You know spreadsheets?” I said, failing to keep the amazement out of my voice.
“Yes, Miss.”
“Then another computer is definitely on the list.” I paused and thought a while as I sipped my coffee. “Tell you what, let’s work through till one and then stop for lunch and then go shopping. You can pick what you need.”
By the time one o’clock came around she’d not only put away all the files, presumably in some sort of order, and made her desk look almost professional but she’d also washed up and tidied round the sink. I finally called a halt and ordered us off to lunch. She certainly deserved it and I needed it.
“But I have sandwiches, Miss,” she almost pleaded.
“Rubbish,” I stated firmly, “I know a nice pub that does good food. And its on the way to the shops,” I added. “Just two things first. Your desk is no good facing the wall. Let’s shift it. I’m sure we can manage it between us.
She looked puzzled but followed my lead. It wasn’t as heavy as it looked, and we managed to move it so it faced into the room, at an angle in a corner opposite mine. Finally, I pointed to the beaten-up chair.
“Grab that,” I told her, “I know where that can go.”
I held the door open and she carried the chair out almost ceremoniously. With a finger to my lips I gestured her to be silent and I crept, dramatically, to the corner of the building and peered round. The office next to mine was run by an accountant, a miserable old git, who was having a refurbishment. Outside his door was a half-full skip. I beckoned Yvonne and she came over and joined me looking mystified.
“You can chuck it in there but be quick before he sees you” I whispered in her ear. She looked at me horrified but I nudged her forward. Seeing no other option, she ran as quickly as she could and flung the chair into the skip. It landed with a crash and the sound of breaking glass and she turned on her heel and ran back. We both ran to the car, giggling like a pair of k**s. As we drove away, I saw old grumpy come out of his front door looking puzzled. I waved as I drove past, and he glared at me.
We were still laughing when we got to the pub. Before we went in, I turned to her, “its ‘respectable’ time, better button up.” She blushed and hastily fastened two buttons and I mentally said a temporary farewell to the pink bra, at least for a while.
Lunch was wonderful, and, despite her protests, I managed to get a couple of glasses of wine down her. I had to go easy as I was driving but there was a distinct slur in her speech by the time we left. There was a shopping mall not far off and I knew it had an office supplier, so we went there.
Yvonne took a lot of persuading to spend my money but eventually chose a nice proper swivel chair for herself and a couple of visitor chairs that would smarten up the office. All three would be delivered the next day but the bits and bobs of office stuff we took with us. A couple of doors down was a computer shop and I had a good idea before we went in. In retrospect ‘respectable’ had been the wrong choice and I told her to unbutton to ‘flirty’. Whether it was the wine or not I don’t know but she grinned broadly. We went in and both played the ‘silly airhead’ woman act to perfection. I almost felt sorry for the geeky guy who served us. How and when I hadn’t noticed but ‘flirty’ had somehow slipped to ‘cute and sexy’ and the poor lad was finding it hard to concentrate. It was a cheap trick I know but we managed to negotiate £50 off the price so it was worth it.
We were on our way back to the car when I noticed a new shop I’d never seen before. Called simply ‘L.L.’ the windows hid the interior and were sparsely dress with items of expensive looking lingerie. I felt a wicked idea forming in my mind.
I handed Yvonne the car keys and told her, “I want to look in here. Take the shopping back to the car and meet me back here.”
She looked shocked but took the keys and walked off. As soon as she was out of sight I went into the shop. Despite the black-out windows the shop was bright and cheerful with row after row of flimsy and diaphanous underwear. A woman, about my age, came over and introduced herself as Carol, the manager, and asked if she could help. I took her elbow and leant in conspiratorially.
“I have just taken on an office assistant and I think she needs a bit of a makeover. She tries her best poor love, but I think she needs some professional help.”
“I’m sure we have everything you need, Madame,” she replied, immediately understanding what was required. I’m sure she’d had many such requests in the past. I didn’t really care if she thought Yvonne was an assistant or something else, but I knew she would do her best. I told her I’d have a look around until she showed up and she nodded and went back to the counter.
When Yvonne reappeared five minutes later, I was almost hidden behind a rack of filmy negligee. Not really my thing as to me it’s just an added complication to the final prize. The poor girl looked embarrassed as she crept through the shop door. I felt sorry for her and watched the relief on her face when I waved her over. I was disappointed to see that she had reverted to ‘flirty’ for her trip to the car.
“Tut tut, my dear,” I said trying to pretend to be annoyed, “whatever happened to ‘cute and sexy’, you naughty girl”, and I flicked at the guilty button.
She seemed genuinely to have forgotten and she quickly unbuttoned herself again. I hooked a finger into the front of her bra and pulled it away from her chest.
“Is this the sexist bra you own, Yvonne,” I asked her directly.
She blushed, “yes, Miss” she replied, not daring to look at me.
“I thought so, come with me,” I said turning on my heels and walking away from her. She followed, trying to catch up, until I stopped in the middle of the bra section.
“But, Miss, you’ve already …”
“Hush, girl, I’ve bought some essential bits to make the office more efficient. Now I want to make my new assistant even sexier that she already is. No arguments.” I said the last two words somewhat forcefully to make my point and she fell silent. Catching her ever-watchful eye I beckoned Carol to join us.
This is my new assistant, Yvonne,” I said by way of introduction, “she tries her best …” and I emphasised my point by tracing the vee of her blouse, “but I’m sure with your expertise you could work wonders.”
Yvonne stood there silently, resigned to her fate while Carol cast her expert eye slowly from head to toe and back again.
“I’m sure we can do something, Madame, do you favour any colour in particular?”
“I like red and black, but a variety would be nice.”
“If I may, Madame,” she asked with a token gesture of seeking permission she reached out and cupped Yvonne’s breasts, one in each hand. Yvonne jumped at the sudden move but bravely stood her ground.
“May I suggest that we go into the back. I’ll have Maggie look some out of the right size and bring them back there.”
She led us to the rear of the shop and held open a door for us. Beyond was an area, well-lit, with booths closed by dark blue velvet curtains and lined opposite with floor length mirrors. Behind us Carol was issuing whispered instructions to whoever Maggie was before she followed us in. She offered me a chair, which I took and positioned Yvonne in the middle of the room facing the mirrors. Without asking she undid the other buttons on her blouse and slipped it off her shoulders. Yvonne glanced at me with a pleading expression, but I simply smiled back. I was having far too much fun.
A young girl appeared who I assumed must be Maggie with several hangers dangling from her finger. Carol looked through them and nodded her approval, choosing to start with a red one. She muttered something to Maggie who nodded, hung everything on a rail and disappeared. Carol held up the first bra for my approval. Somehow, she’d guessed just right. There’s something about minimal and see-through that really gets me going. Without further ado Carol walked behind Yvonne and unclipped her pink bra. The poor girl had no say in the matter and allowed it to be taken off. I couldn’t help myself and I gasped with delight. What came out were even better than I’d hoped. Small and pert and so deliciously youthful it almost seems a shame to cover them up but Carol was already fitting the new red bra. To be fair she knew what she was doing as it made those pretty perky tits even perkier. At this moment Maggie reappeared with an armful of tops which she hung alongside the selection of bras. Carol made a few adjustments to the straps of the new bra and then went over and looked through the tops carefully before picking one out.
“I’m not sure how discreet your office is, Madame, but I thought something like this might be suitable.”
She held up a white blouse that was so sheer that I could clearly see her face through it. It might not be for the office but I just had to see what it looked like on Yvonne, so I smiled and nodded my assent. By this time the resistance had gone, and Yvonne allowed Carol to slide the top up her arms and button it at the front. I was please to see she left it undone about the same amount as her previous one. There was no hiding the red bra as it showed through quite delightfully. I gave Carol a brief round of applause and told her she was a genius.
We tried on a few more items and came away having spent much more than I had bargained on but still leaving me with a smile on my face from ear to ear. As well as a different colour bra for each day and several very risqué tops I also bought a couple of tight black skirts and several pairs of black hold-ups. I thought Yvonne was going to argue when I insisted that she wear the red bra and the sheer white blouse when we left the shop, but I gave her a stern look and she reluctantly complied. I tormented the poor girl by walking slowly back to the car, stopping off to do plenty of window shopping on the way. I could almost hear her sigh of relief when I finally let her into the passenger seat. Before we drove off, I reached across and unfastened another button.
“I’m going to call this ‘ultra-sexy’ and its for my eyes only,” I told her.
“Yes, Miss,” she replied, visibly relieved to be in the safety of the car.
When we got back to the office, laden with our purchases I sank into my chair. It had been a long and exciting afternoon. I realised that Yvonne was looking perplexed and I suddenly saw what her problem was.
“Oh, dear there seems to have been a flaw in our planning, Yvonne. We threw your chair out too quickly I fear.”
“Its Ok, Miss, I can stand.”
“Rubbish girl its easily sorted. You could sneak back down and get your chair back out of the skip …”
“No, please Miss, he looked so angry.”
“Or …” I added with a grin, “you could come and sit on my lap.”
I held open my arms invitingly and she readily joined in with the fun and came around my desk and snuggled herself into my lap.
To be continue …
“Why the fuck would I need an assistant, Mo?” I almost screamed at Maureen.
She’s my oldest friend and I love her dearly, but she was driving me up the wall. She’d come around half an hour before right when I was in the middle of trying to sort out a mess and, despite numerous hints, had insisted on making coffee and forcing me to stop and drink it with her. I know she had the best of intentions, but this was time I couldn’t afford to waste.
I run a small but quite successful catering company specialising in private dinners. Everything is out-sourced and I’m mostly the coordinator and I was in the middle of trying to tie a million loose ends together for a dinner for 10 that was being put on Lord and Lady La-di-da at the weekend. I had phone calls to make and I was up to my armpits in paperwork. Lovely as the coffee was and enjoyable as Mo’s company would have been at any other time, I was conscious of the clock ticking away.
“But look at you Flick, you’re being run ragged,” she replied, “you don’t look like you’ve slept for a week.”
“Oh thanks,” I glared at her, but I knew my hair was a tousled mess.
“Just someone to do the boring routine bits so you can get on with the creative bits you do best.”
“I don’t have the time to train someone up,” I countered, “much less waste time on reading CV’s and interviewing people.”
“No problem,” she said with a grin, “its all sorted. There’s this young girl I know who’d be ideal. Local girl and looking for a job. She can type and file and whatever else it is that secretaries do these days.” She paused and suddenly looked concerned. “Are we even allowed to call them secretaries? Don’t they have to have some posh new title? Anyway, whatever, she’d be ideal. Why not give her a try?”
“I really don’t have the time Mo, not with this big do coming up at the weekend. I have a lot riding on this.”
“Ok so first thing next week then.” She interrupted me as I was about to speak, “I won’t take no for an answer. I’ll bring her round first thing Monday morning and we can interview her together.”
And she placed her empty cup down on my desk and rose from her chair, effectively cutting off all argument. That is so typical of Mo, I thought as she swept out of my office. I resigned myself to the inevitable and simply chose to ignore it and got back to my work. My sigh was a mixture of relief at finally saying farewell to Mo and partly at the mountain of stuff I still had to do.
Somehow, I managed to survive the rest of that week and the weekend was a resounding success judging by the size of the bonus I was given. I had high hopes of some repeat and new orders coming in on the back of it. I had to ring round all my ladies and thank them for their hard work and then send them their share of the bonus. I’d completely forgotten about Mo and her devious plans until, half way through the morning, she swept into the office.
“Morning, darling,” she gushed, and she leant over and kissed me on each cheek. “I have Yvonne outside.”
“Yvonne?” my fuddled brain struggling to make sense of things.
“Your new assistant,” she declared, “don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already.”
“I didn’t know you were being serious.”
“I’m always serious when it comes to rescuing friends. Now, no arguments, sit at your desk and look like a boss, I’ll just tidy things up a bit.”
I couldn’t argue against the force of nature that was Mo, so I simply sat down in my chair while Mo gathered up piles of paper from the desk and simply dumped them on the floor behind me. I started to protest but Mo shushed me saying, “Yvonne can sort them all out later, it’s what she’s for.”
With the desk now almost empty apart from a phone and a notepad the place bore some semblance of efficiency. Mo grabbed the only other chair in the room and came and sat next to me. I knew she wasn’t planning to be a simple observer.
“We need another chair,” I tried to point out, but Mo scoffed at that.
“Maybe later, but we have to establish the boss employee thing first.” Then with a final wink at me she called out, “Yvonne, get your pretty little ass in here now.”
I glanced at Mo with a look of horror at the way she’d spoken but she simply grinned at me and leant over to whisper in my ear, “Gotta show her who’s boss … besides she loves it,” and she winked at me before turning to face Yvonne who was nervously entering the office. Mo pointed to a spot on the threadbare carpet in front of the desk and told her to stand there and then leant back in her chair and looked at the poor girl.
I was left with little choice but to do the same. What I saw was a pretty girl of about twenty dressed quite conservatively in a charcoal grey skirt and a white blouse. She appeared to be wearing some sort of hose but whether stocking or tights I couldn’t tell. Her skirt was maybe an inch or two shorter than might be normal for an office and there were at least two too many buttons undone on her blouse, certainly enough to show the hint of lacy pinkness of her bra. As both our eyes swept up and down, she almost visibly squirmed beneath our gazes.
Mo nudged me in the ribs and without bothering to lower her voice commented, “I told you she was a nice bit of eye-candy. If nothing else, she’ll decorate the office nicely.”
I watched as a pink flush covered Yvonne’s face and spread slowly downwards to complement nicely with her pink bra. I had known Mo for so many years that I had become immune to her outrageous behaviour and I have to admit that part of me was enjoying watching the poor girl’s embarrassment.
“You’re looking lovely today, my dear,” Mo complimented her, and her blush became if anything even deeper. “I was telling her what a great ass you have so why not turn around and show us.”
To my amazement the girl made no sign of protest but immediately shuffled round and faced away from us.
“So, Flick, was I lying?” she asked me.
I took a long hard look and had to agree that it was indeed a very fine ass. Her skirt was good quality and well-tailored and showed it to perfection.
“Wouldn’t you like to see that pert little rump bobbing around the office?”
I nodded in reply, not trusting myself to speak.
“So, what do you say, Hire or Fire?” she asked using the catchphrase of a popular TV programme.
Suddenly there was little doubt in my mind. I really did need a competent pair of hands around the office to take some of the workload as, I had to admit, it was getting too much for me. In addition, having something young and pretty to ogle at would help with the stress of work.
“Turn back around Yvonne,” I said, deciding it was time to take charge of my own office. “Tell me about yourself.”
She turned back around still with the blush showing. “Thank you, Mrs Pearson,” she managed to get out, her voice shaky and uncertain.
“I’ll just stop you there, dear, its Ms not Mrs Pearson.”
“I’m sorry Ms Pearson.”
“That’s Ok you weren’t to know. Now tell me about your previous work experience.”
And thus began the interview proper. I tried to concentrate and not be distracted by that so enticing glimpse of pink bra and not to speculate about whether it was stockings or tights hidden under her skirt while secretly hoping it was the former. She gave me a short list of previous employers and her reason for leaving them. A couple of them I already knew along with their reputations as notorious letches and I read between the lines that they had tried it on with her as they had done with so many other young girls in the past. She assured me that she was a good typist and could do all the other things expected of her. In the end I could think of no good reason to say no so I stood up, held out my hand and welcomed her to my office. She beamed a huge smile, partly of relief and partly of gratitude. As she was already without work, I asked her to start tomorrow at 9.00, which she said would be fine.
“I’ll give you a lift home, Yvonne,” chimed in Mo, “go wait in the car and I’ll be right down.”
As the door closed behind her Mo shook my hand. “Good choice, my love, you’ll have fun with her I know you will. I think I might even stop off in a layby on the way home.” And she winked at me with a sly grin.
“I can’t have you interfering with members of my staff,” I protested jokingly.
“She doesn’t work for you until tomorrow so today the little bitch is mine,” and she kissed me on the cheek and swept out of the door. I had to hand it to her, not only could she make an entrance but her exits were often just as dramatic. The woman had no shame and I had to admire her for that.
The next day I got to work early intending to tidy the place up a bit and was pleasantly surprised to find Yvonne already on the doorstep. At least she was eager. I wished her a good morning and unlocked the door and she followed me in. I dumped my bag next to the desk and turned to look at her. She was dressed as before and still, I was delighted to see, with one too many buttons undone. She blushed as I examined her which is something I find very endearing. She looked shy and embarrassed as I walked slowly around her, looking at her from every angle until I was once more standing in front of her.
“You look very nice this morning Yvonne,” I said, smiling sweetly, “I’ll just explain a couple of things …” and I paused. “Dress code first. I have three separate dress codes in this office. The first is ‘respectable’ which means this has to be done up a little more,” and I reached out and closed the top of her blouse, hiding that tantalizing hint of pink bra. “This is for serious clients who I’m not out to impress or charm via my staff. They’re rare but I’ll give you good warning.”
I released my grip on her blouse and tidied up the vee of her neckline. The pink bra seemed to wink at me as I did so. So far so good as she’d made no move to shy away from me.
“The second is what I call ‘flirty’ which is how it is now. Some clients like a little hint of naughtiness and it distracts them which is the whole intention,” I continued, and I winked at her and she grinned knowingly.
“The third is when its just the two of us, and maybe for one or two special clients, and that is the ‘cute and sexy’ and that is with another button undone,” I said and reached out and undid the extra button. I rearranged the now deeper vee and more of her bra came into view. It looked expensive and it covered a pair of small breasts. It was as much as I could do to control myself and not grab them there and then. “Much better,” I told her, “Mo was right about eye-candy. You bring a little glamour to the office.”
“Thank you, Ms Pearson,” she replied.
“That’s such a mouthful I think we can shorten it to Miss, don’t you?”
“Yes, Miss.”
Time to get business-like and professional. I couldn’t spend all morning drooling over my new employee. My office wasn’t set up for two people so that had to be organised. In one corner was an old desk piled high with old files and stacks of loose papers. Next to it was a battered filing cabinet that was virtually empty as I’d had no time to organise things properly. So, I set her to try and make some sense of it all. It would be a good test for her to show what she could do and also give her a desk to work on.
I went and sat behind my desk and started to make some calls, all the while with one eye on her. I loved the way her skirt tightened over her bottom every time she bent over, it was quite distracting. Somehow, I managed to concentrate enough to sort out some contracts and by the time 11.00 came around most of the files had gone from her desk and disappeared into the gaping jaws of the filing cabinet. I was impressed. I didn’t want to interrupt her, so I got up and filled the kettle from the sink in the corner and managed to find two cups hiding under the litter.
“How do you like your coffee, Yvonne,” I called out to her making her jump.
“Oh, Miss, you should have let me do that,” she protested.
“Nonsense, you were making the place look tidy,” I joked, “now, black or white?”
“Um, white please, no sugar.”
I made two cups and took them back to my desk. I gestured at the only other chair in the office, next to mine and still where Mo had sat in it during the interview. She looked shy as she came and sat next to me. I handed her a cup and leant back.
“That looks a lot better already,” I said and then stopped abruptly. “Oh my god is that another phone?”
“Yes, Miss,”
“Wow a two phone office. We’ve just got professional,” I laughed.
She giggled endearingly and blushed.
“So what else will you need? I’m so used to being solo I’ve forgotten what an assistant might need.”
She looked shy, not knowing how far any requests could go.
“Another chair?”
That made sense. The only other chair was the one she sat on and it was a beaten-up second-hand dining chair of dubious quality. It was ok for the occasional client but now there were two of us in residence so to speak and we needed more.
“Anything else?” I queried.
“Some office stuff like staplers and hole-punchers and …” her voice trailed off.
“And what?”
“It’s a bit expensive, Miss but another computer. If I’m to write letters and stuff or keep spreadsheets.”
“You know spreadsheets?” I said, failing to keep the amazement out of my voice.
“Yes, Miss.”
“Then another computer is definitely on the list.” I paused and thought a while as I sipped my coffee. “Tell you what, let’s work through till one and then stop for lunch and then go shopping. You can pick what you need.”
By the time one o’clock came around she’d not only put away all the files, presumably in some sort of order, and made her desk look almost professional but she’d also washed up and tidied round the sink. I finally called a halt and ordered us off to lunch. She certainly deserved it and I needed it.
“But I have sandwiches, Miss,” she almost pleaded.
“Rubbish,” I stated firmly, “I know a nice pub that does good food. And its on the way to the shops,” I added. “Just two things first. Your desk is no good facing the wall. Let’s shift it. I’m sure we can manage it between us.
She looked puzzled but followed my lead. It wasn’t as heavy as it looked, and we managed to move it so it faced into the room, at an angle in a corner opposite mine. Finally, I pointed to the beaten-up chair.
“Grab that,” I told her, “I know where that can go.”
I held the door open and she carried the chair out almost ceremoniously. With a finger to my lips I gestured her to be silent and I crept, dramatically, to the corner of the building and peered round. The office next to mine was run by an accountant, a miserable old git, who was having a refurbishment. Outside his door was a half-full skip. I beckoned Yvonne and she came over and joined me looking mystified.
“You can chuck it in there but be quick before he sees you” I whispered in her ear. She looked at me horrified but I nudged her forward. Seeing no other option, she ran as quickly as she could and flung the chair into the skip. It landed with a crash and the sound of breaking glass and she turned on her heel and ran back. We both ran to the car, giggling like a pair of k**s. As we drove away, I saw old grumpy come out of his front door looking puzzled. I waved as I drove past, and he glared at me.
We were still laughing when we got to the pub. Before we went in, I turned to her, “its ‘respectable’ time, better button up.” She blushed and hastily fastened two buttons and I mentally said a temporary farewell to the pink bra, at least for a while.
Lunch was wonderful, and, despite her protests, I managed to get a couple of glasses of wine down her. I had to go easy as I was driving but there was a distinct slur in her speech by the time we left. There was a shopping mall not far off and I knew it had an office supplier, so we went there.
Yvonne took a lot of persuading to spend my money but eventually chose a nice proper swivel chair for herself and a couple of visitor chairs that would smarten up the office. All three would be delivered the next day but the bits and bobs of office stuff we took with us. A couple of doors down was a computer shop and I had a good idea before we went in. In retrospect ‘respectable’ had been the wrong choice and I told her to unbutton to ‘flirty’. Whether it was the wine or not I don’t know but she grinned broadly. We went in and both played the ‘silly airhead’ woman act to perfection. I almost felt sorry for the geeky guy who served us. How and when I hadn’t noticed but ‘flirty’ had somehow slipped to ‘cute and sexy’ and the poor lad was finding it hard to concentrate. It was a cheap trick I know but we managed to negotiate £50 off the price so it was worth it.
We were on our way back to the car when I noticed a new shop I’d never seen before. Called simply ‘L.L.’ the windows hid the interior and were sparsely dress with items of expensive looking lingerie. I felt a wicked idea forming in my mind.
I handed Yvonne the car keys and told her, “I want to look in here. Take the shopping back to the car and meet me back here.”
She looked shocked but took the keys and walked off. As soon as she was out of sight I went into the shop. Despite the black-out windows the shop was bright and cheerful with row after row of flimsy and diaphanous underwear. A woman, about my age, came over and introduced herself as Carol, the manager, and asked if she could help. I took her elbow and leant in conspiratorially.
“I have just taken on an office assistant and I think she needs a bit of a makeover. She tries her best poor love, but I think she needs some professional help.”
“I’m sure we have everything you need, Madame,” she replied, immediately understanding what was required. I’m sure she’d had many such requests in the past. I didn’t really care if she thought Yvonne was an assistant or something else, but I knew she would do her best. I told her I’d have a look around until she showed up and she nodded and went back to the counter.
When Yvonne reappeared five minutes later, I was almost hidden behind a rack of filmy negligee. Not really my thing as to me it’s just an added complication to the final prize. The poor girl looked embarrassed as she crept through the shop door. I felt sorry for her and watched the relief on her face when I waved her over. I was disappointed to see that she had reverted to ‘flirty’ for her trip to the car.
“Tut tut, my dear,” I said trying to pretend to be annoyed, “whatever happened to ‘cute and sexy’, you naughty girl”, and I flicked at the guilty button.
She seemed genuinely to have forgotten and she quickly unbuttoned herself again. I hooked a finger into the front of her bra and pulled it away from her chest.
“Is this the sexist bra you own, Yvonne,” I asked her directly.
She blushed, “yes, Miss” she replied, not daring to look at me.
“I thought so, come with me,” I said turning on my heels and walking away from her. She followed, trying to catch up, until I stopped in the middle of the bra section.
“But, Miss, you’ve already …”
“Hush, girl, I’ve bought some essential bits to make the office more efficient. Now I want to make my new assistant even sexier that she already is. No arguments.” I said the last two words somewhat forcefully to make my point and she fell silent. Catching her ever-watchful eye I beckoned Carol to join us.
This is my new assistant, Yvonne,” I said by way of introduction, “she tries her best …” and I emphasised my point by tracing the vee of her blouse, “but I’m sure with your expertise you could work wonders.”
Yvonne stood there silently, resigned to her fate while Carol cast her expert eye slowly from head to toe and back again.
“I’m sure we can do something, Madame, do you favour any colour in particular?”
“I like red and black, but a variety would be nice.”
“If I may, Madame,” she asked with a token gesture of seeking permission she reached out and cupped Yvonne’s breasts, one in each hand. Yvonne jumped at the sudden move but bravely stood her ground.
“May I suggest that we go into the back. I’ll have Maggie look some out of the right size and bring them back there.”
She led us to the rear of the shop and held open a door for us. Beyond was an area, well-lit, with booths closed by dark blue velvet curtains and lined opposite with floor length mirrors. Behind us Carol was issuing whispered instructions to whoever Maggie was before she followed us in. She offered me a chair, which I took and positioned Yvonne in the middle of the room facing the mirrors. Without asking she undid the other buttons on her blouse and slipped it off her shoulders. Yvonne glanced at me with a pleading expression, but I simply smiled back. I was having far too much fun.
A young girl appeared who I assumed must be Maggie with several hangers dangling from her finger. Carol looked through them and nodded her approval, choosing to start with a red one. She muttered something to Maggie who nodded, hung everything on a rail and disappeared. Carol held up the first bra for my approval. Somehow, she’d guessed just right. There’s something about minimal and see-through that really gets me going. Without further ado Carol walked behind Yvonne and unclipped her pink bra. The poor girl had no say in the matter and allowed it to be taken off. I couldn’t help myself and I gasped with delight. What came out were even better than I’d hoped. Small and pert and so deliciously youthful it almost seems a shame to cover them up but Carol was already fitting the new red bra. To be fair she knew what she was doing as it made those pretty perky tits even perkier. At this moment Maggie reappeared with an armful of tops which she hung alongside the selection of bras. Carol made a few adjustments to the straps of the new bra and then went over and looked through the tops carefully before picking one out.
“I’m not sure how discreet your office is, Madame, but I thought something like this might be suitable.”
She held up a white blouse that was so sheer that I could clearly see her face through it. It might not be for the office but I just had to see what it looked like on Yvonne, so I smiled and nodded my assent. By this time the resistance had gone, and Yvonne allowed Carol to slide the top up her arms and button it at the front. I was please to see she left it undone about the same amount as her previous one. There was no hiding the red bra as it showed through quite delightfully. I gave Carol a brief round of applause and told her she was a genius.
We tried on a few more items and came away having spent much more than I had bargained on but still leaving me with a smile on my face from ear to ear. As well as a different colour bra for each day and several very risqué tops I also bought a couple of tight black skirts and several pairs of black hold-ups. I thought Yvonne was going to argue when I insisted that she wear the red bra and the sheer white blouse when we left the shop, but I gave her a stern look and she reluctantly complied. I tormented the poor girl by walking slowly back to the car, stopping off to do plenty of window shopping on the way. I could almost hear her sigh of relief when I finally let her into the passenger seat. Before we drove off, I reached across and unfastened another button.
“I’m going to call this ‘ultra-sexy’ and its for my eyes only,” I told her.
“Yes, Miss,” she replied, visibly relieved to be in the safety of the car.
When we got back to the office, laden with our purchases I sank into my chair. It had been a long and exciting afternoon. I realised that Yvonne was looking perplexed and I suddenly saw what her problem was.
“Oh, dear there seems to have been a flaw in our planning, Yvonne. We threw your chair out too quickly I fear.”
“Its Ok, Miss, I can stand.”
“Rubbish girl its easily sorted. You could sneak back down and get your chair back out of the skip …”
“No, please Miss, he looked so angry.”
“Or …” I added with a grin, “you could come and sit on my lap.”
I held open my arms invitingly and she readily joined in with the fun and came around my desk and snuggled herself into my lap.
To be continue …
Maris
- 27.02.2020
- 41
- 0
