Chapter 5
"He what?" Bambi asked as she and Judy finished lunch in the company cafeteria.
"He said that if I didn't...have sex with him, that I wouldn't get the job."
"That little bastard," Bambi seethed angrily."You were officially on the payroll as of nine this morning. He was totally full of shit! You should have told him to go to hell!"
"I wanted to," Judy murmured.
"Jesus," Bambi said, growing angrier by the minute. "That fuckin' Leo makes me wanna blow my groceries all over the place."
"It's no big deal," Judy offered.
"No big deal?" Bambi asked. "Lemme tell you just how big a deal it really is. For starters, everyone in the office probably had money on whether you'd put out or not, and secondly, the prick has a hidden video camera stashed somewhere in the office, so I hope you showed your best side when you did it, because you more than likely had an audience. Shit!"
Judy's face turned a variety of colors, ranging from a dark purple to pickle green, all in the space of five seconds.
"He seemed so sincere," Judy said after an eternity.
"Sincere, shit," Bambi muttered.
"How will I ever face anyone here again?" Judy asked, wanting to cry.
"Don't worry about that too much," Bambi said. "Tomorrow or the next day they'll be someone else who'll fall for the same thing. It happens a lot."
"Did...did it happen to you?"
"Almost," Bambi admitted, "but Leo's method was alot cruder in those days, so I didn't bite."
"Jesus Mary God," Judy groaned. "I'm so embarrassed."
"Don't sweat it," Bambi said, knowing Judy was in for a rough time.
"I'll quit," Judy said. "That's what I'll do, quit. It's all so humiliating."
"No, don't do that," Bambi said, "it's the worst thing you can do. It'll prove that you can't take it. No, it would be better if you just acted like you didn't give a tin shit. In a day or two, no one will remember."
But they did.
"How would you like to be a secretary?" asked a man with bushy eyebrows.
"I beg your pardon? Judy asked.
"I was asking you if you wanted to be a secretary," the man asked. He looked like W.C. Fields. "It pays another fifty over and above what you're making now.
"Gee," Judy said as the other receptionists stared at her, waiting for her decision. "I dunno..."
"I need a secretary," the man said. "I'm Bernard Rowbottom, junior V.P. in charge of creative affairs."
"Hi," Judy said. "I'm Judy McGruff."
"I know," Rowbottom replied. "I caught your debut this morning."
A little light bulb lit up over Judy's head.
"And that's why you want me to be your secretary?" Judy asked tightly. "So the VP of creative affairs can have a few creative affairs of his own?"
"Not exactly," Rowbottom grinned. "But I like your spunk. Sleep on it, if you like. Let me know tomorrow."
He turned and walked back into the office area. The other secretaries were all over Judy in a minute.
"Shit, I just don't believe your luck," Laurie fumed. "Here one day and already climbing the first rung on the ladder to success. Hell, I put out for Leo and got nothing."
"I don't know what to do..." Judy said vaguely. "I've never done secretary work before."
"Two thirds of the secretaries in this place can't fart and type at the same time," Ga Ga said. "Go for it baby. Fuck your way to the top. That's the only way to get anywhere nowadays. God, if only I could fuck my way up."
"Keep in mind, Judy," Suzie said, jealous of Judy's sudden success, "that should you accept the position Mr. Rowbottom is offering, that most of your days will be spent on your back."
"Lay off, Suze," Laurie interjected. "Not everyone is as uptight about sex as you are. Shit, your idea of foreplay is a pillow fight."
"Ees wonderful opportunity," Millie put in, "but I am afraid that Suzie is beddy correct. All they want is your body."
"Sure," Anita agreed, "but look what happened to that Vicky Carillo, remember? The one who started out in the research department filing reports. She fucked her way up to exec V.P., then turned around and fired everyone she had to fuck on her way up. That's what I call just desserts. It can happen for you too, Judy."
"Well..." Judy started to say.
"Honey," Ga Ga said, "you've got nothing to lose and everything to gain. Do it, sweetheart."
"Just don't give old dickface Rowbottom an answer 'till tomorrow," Laurie suggested.
"Why?"
"Look," Laurie explained. "Rowbottom's been trying forever to land a babe like you. Make it work for you, bust his hump for all it's worth, give sex only on your terms and as rarely as possible. Hell, Rowbottom'll be grateful for anything he gets. Trust me kiddo, and in six months to a year you'll be sitting pretty."
"Come in, Miss McGruff," Rowbottom said. "Have a seat."
Judy sat in a huge velvet armchair. Rowbottom's office was pretty staid compared to most of the others she'd seen, complete with framed family photos and a solid gold desk set.
"Can I get you some coffee? Perhaps something stronger?"
"Nothing, thanks," Judy said.
"Been mulling over my offer?" Rowbottom wanted to know.
"I guess you could say that," Judy smiled seductively.
Rowbottom started to drool. "Maybe I'll have that drink. Sure you don't care for one?"
"Not right now, thanks," Judy said.
"And I trust," he said, going to the bar and pouring a healthy one, "that you have made a decision."
"Yes," Judy replied, and swallowed.
The night before, Laurie had called her at home and had coached her, going over every last detail on what to say, how to dress, act, etc. Judy had been impressed at Laurie's vast knowledge.
"Above all," Laurie had instructed, "always keep in mind that you're talking business and not his pleasure. Always keep it on a business level. Don't come right out and say you'll sleep with him. Make him think it's already understood that it's part of the bargain and you're in like Flynn."
"And?"
"I've decided to accept your offer, Mr. Rowbottom," Judy said, choosing her words as carefully as she knew how.
"Fine," Rowbottom said, beaming happily.
"However," Judy forged on, "Before I can accept, there are a few things I must insist..."
"No," Rowbottom jumped in. "Never insist. Request all you want, but never insist."
"Right," Judy replied, losing round one. Rowbottom wasn't quite the pushover everyone thought. "I just wanted to in...request that as your secretary, I will in addition to the usual secretarial chores also take part in creative and other work related functions."
"I see no problem there," Rowbottom replied. "We could use some new talent around here."
"Hurt me...abuse me, you cockeyed son of a bitch!" Judy cried as Mr. Rowbottom took her from behind on her desk.
"Hurt you?" he asked, slightly bewildered. "Why in heaven's name would I..."
"Hit me, I said," Judy begged. "Otherwise I won't come until next Christmas, or maybe never!"
Rowbottom gave her fanny a love tap. She was on her knees, dress pulled up to her hips and panties around her ankles. Rowbottom stood behind her, shoving his loveloaf in and out of her.
"You call that a slap?" Judy wanted to know.
"Hit me the way you'd hit your kids when they've been bad."
"I'm a firm non-believer in corporal punishment," he replied. "I never hit my kids."
"Never?" Judy asked.
"Never," Rowbottom confessed. "My wife would never permit it."
Judy sighed.
"Then hit me the way you'd LIKE to hit your kids," she said.
She felt a huge swack on her buttock. It stung like twelve yellow jackets.
"That's more like it," she moaned.
The phone tinkled softly on her desk. Still bending over, she answered it.
"Mr. Rowbottom's office," she said politely.
It was Bambi.
"Jude?" she asked. "Bambi. Look, kid, we gotta talk, and I mean pronto."
"Can I call you back?" Judy asked breathlessly. Mr. Rowbottom was starting to get into the spirit of things, slapping her fanny and grunting and thrusting harder with each slap.
"No," Bambi said. "This is important. Listen to me, Judy. Lunch. Twelve-thirty. The cafeteria. Be there, and I mean be there."
She hung up.
So did Judy. She winced in pain as Rowbottom started striking her ass with a clipboard. That was" a new one.
"Call me names..." Judy panted. "Call me terrible names!"
Rowbottom was getting used to his new secretary's unusual sexual requests and promptly complied.
"Inferior species," he snarled as best he could. "Urban slum dweller...low class Brooklyn resident...."
"Get nasty, dammit!" Judy snapped. "Get your mind in the gutter, real down and dirty!"
Rowbottom had never been comfortable using cusswords but gave it the old Harvard Class of Sixty-Four try.
"Shit...fuck...peepee....doody....smelly farts....." he squealed in a high pitched voice.
"Sounds like Rowbottom's having a fit!" commented an exec in the neighboring office.
"Yeah," replied his secretary, "and a tight one at that."
Meanwhile, back at the raunch, Rowbottom was huffing and puffing and sweating profusely, the armpits of his white shirt soaking wet. Judy quickly grew tired of his feeble efforts to arouse her and started filing her nails.
Rowbottom started to come, his cock making little spasms inside of her. Despite Judy's indifference, he was happy. His wife only let him put it in halfway, if at all.
He withdrew from her, wiped his brow and sank into his chair.
"Hold my calls for the next twenty minutes," he said, disappearing into his office. "I need a drink."