Chapter 9

Things at Pussy went along pretty smoothly for the next year. The feature on me that came out in December was another sensation, locking me in as Ralph's company favorite. A lot of the crap that they wrote was bullshit, like it's being my pool (I wish) and all, but all in all it was a lot more honest than the first feature that they'd run on me.

It had been so good, that they shot another feature of me that following summer, and I got a bonus again, plus a raise for my regular duties. I'd really learned the tricks of the trade by then and was getting eager to shoot an assignment on my own.

The circulation of Pussy was growing at an amazing rate, and plans were being drawn up for new offices. Ralph had gotten himself a decent-looking receptionist, and she and I would sometimes make it together after work.

I didn't have to ball Ralph very often, but I did on occasion. But I really couldn't argue with him as he was treating me better than practically anyone else around there. The success was really going to his head, and he sometimes ran the company like a petty tyrant. Gilda, the new receptionist, confided to me that she had to ball Ralph fairly often, but that somehow she got through it, even though she couldn't stand him.

I kept my mouth shut though, not wanting to make waves. I still had a few things I wanted to accomplish here, and since he'd treated me better than most people, I tried not to complain, even though I wasn't too wild about him as a person.

I had a pretty nice lifestyle as a result of my job, and managed to get it on with as many guys and girls as I could. These were generally people away from the job, although I did date Jim occasionally and I've already told you about Gilda.

There came a time when I was really anxious to put my photographic skills to the test and shoot something on my own. But even with Jim's backing, I couldn't talk Ralph into it. He wasn't exactly against it, he just said I wasn't ready.

But he was so pleased with the results of my third layout, he finally did give me an assignment. When Jim told me about it, I about flipped, even though it would be a simple thing, taking a picture of a drink for a section we ran on alcoholic beverages. Although it was a small assignment, I jumped at the chance, trying to figure out how I'd go about making a rum-punch look a little different.

I finally came up with an idea . . . not exactly original, but different enough that I figured, at least hoped that Mr. B. would go for it. I talked it over with Jim, and he liked it, so I decided to make a rough out of it to see if it met with Ralph's approval.

It was really a pretty corny thing. Since it was supposed to be about this rum punch for hot days, I took the photo of the bowl of punch in a crystal container. Overlaid over this, we'd superimpose it if Mr. B. approved it in final form, was a photo of a man on a raft. He was wearing tropical clothing, and looked as if he'd been shipwrecked, and was paddling the raft across the rum lake with a large straw.

Now I came up with this before that toilet bowl thing came out. You know, the one where the lady sees this guy on a raft inside her toilet tank? I think they may have copped the idea from me, but I don't care. I'm not particularly proud of the project, but as it was my first real break behind the camera, I wanted to try and appeal to Mr. Baljoni's tastes.

Once the rough comp of the picture was ready, I took it into Ralph's office for approval. I was pretty nervous there in the waiting room, Gilda wishing me good luck. I'd even forgotten to take a camera that I'd been wearing around my neck off, but once I saw it was there, I decided to keep it on, figuring that he might begin thinking of me more as a photographer when he saw it on me.

He finally saw me in, and when he looked at the comp, he really flipped. He really liked it! I took a big breath of air, relieved that I'd passed my first test. It wasn't all that good, but from his reaction, you'd have thought I'd just won the prize in a big contest or something.

Noticing the camera around my neck, he smiled and said he was glad to see that I was always prepared to take a good photo. I mean, that's the terms he thought in. He even posed for a couple of pictures for me, just for fun, although you'd never know it from the serious poses he struck, the ever-present hat still in place on his head.

Motioning me to sit down and take off the camera for a second, he again went over the work I'd just done for the drink article, praising me more highly than I'd expected.

"You know," he mused, "we'll have to try you on one of our centerfolds real soon. You're really an asset to this company, Donna. I'm glad things have worked out so well. Jim has nothing but praise for you."

I smiled, relishing the idea of getting a shot at a centerfold. One thing I'd learned about Mr. B. and that was he followed up with what he said. It may take you forever and a day to get him to suggest something, but once he did, he most generally followed through with it.

"I'm so happy with you," he continued, "that I'm going to give you a reward."

I held my breath, hoping for a raise, or even a firm deal on a centerfold.

"Just what would that be, Ralph?" I asked him after he hadn't spoken for nearly a minute.

"A nice screw," he said with a leer, making me sink through my chair.

Of all the things I didn't need. What made him think he was a reward? I'd gotten to the place that I had to practically fake it when I made it with him, but since this didn't come up too often, I managed. But to give himself as a reward. What an egotistical fucker he was. If he only knew that people who made it with him practically gagged.

He flipped on his intercom, telling Gilda to hold his calls, so I knew that I'd better collect my reward as easily as possible. After all, I did want that chance to do a centerfold-he didn't exactly pass those out like candy.

I picked up my camera and sat on his lap. Don't ask me why, I guess it was just some defense mechanism in me trying to figure a way out of it.

"Please, Donna," he told me stiffly. "You can put down the camera. I'll give you another assignment real soon, just like I said."

So I put it down, and began taking off my clothes as he instructed, leaving my white garter-belt on, as I knew he preferred it that way. He undressed, leaving his cap on, and began to eat me. Even with him doing it, I did begin to get turned-on, so I had him ease me down to the floor where it would be easier.

I moaned and thrashed around as he ate me, trying to fake it so he'd finish me off in a hurry. The actual sensation of being eaten was pleasurable, even with him, but I hoped to get it over with fast.

I faked an orgasm, but he still wasn't satisfied. He just climbed atop me, slipping his thin cock up my pussy, and began balling away at me. It was ridiculous, the way he left his cap on. I reached up and pulled it off, revealing his thinning hair, and he glared at me, but only for a moment. He was too lost in his fucking to really get pissed.

He finally came, giving me instant relief, even though I still hadn't made it. The penetration of his cock had turned me off. I don't know what it was about him, but that's just the way he affected me.

The first thing he did, after regaining his composure was to put his cap back on. Then he smiled at me and told me I could go. I put on my clothes, glad that I'd accepted my reward so well, then hustled out of the office, giving a knowing glance to Gilda. The things you have to go through to reach the top!