Chapter 7
"Mumphhh," Judy said. "Huh?"
Dave had stuffed his hanky in her mouth to keep her cries of pain and ecstasy from disturbing the other guests, who were more than likely doing similar things.
"Ta de gah ouwwa mah mouf," Judy mumbled.
"Oh, sorry," Dave said, realizing his error. He pulled the soggy cloth out of her mouth. Judy licked her dry lips gratefully.
"Thanks," she said. "Now would you take the dildo out, please? And then possibly untie me before I get a serious rope burn?"
"I dunno," Dave mused, riddling with his navel. "I kind of like you tied up. Leaves you at a safe disadvantage."
"It also leaves an incredible strain on the bladder," she shot back. "So either get me a bedpan or untie me so I can use the little girl's room."
"Oh, sure. Sorry," Dave retorted, and freed her from the ropes. She rubbed her ankles.
"Where'd you learn that kind of stuff?" she asked, pointing to the whip on the floor.
"At Catholic school," he replied. "The nuns first got me interested in it since they were so crazy about it themselves."
"Tell me about it," Judy said, hopping off the waterbed and disappearing into the bathroom. "We had one at Our Lady Sings the Blues, Sister Kate. Jesus, but could that old cunt dish out the pain. She said she was serving God, but it was more like the Marquis De Sade."
"Yeah, it really sucks," Dave called back. "But at least I got something out of it."
"AMEN," Judy gurgled from the toilet.
She returned and leaped back onto the bed. The seasickness wasn't so bad now. Her ass still stung but it was the kind of pain she was used to.
Dave attacked her but she pushed him away.
"We got some stuff to discuss," she said.
"Sure, babe, anything you want."
"You said something about a promotion," Judy informed him.
"Yeah, I guess I did at that," Dave mused. "I could get you into Creative no problem."
"What's Creative?"
"That's the department where the real work gets done," he explained. "It's where commercials are written and filmed and magazine ads are shot. It's where the real decisions get made, not upstairs where the burned out drunk-three-martini-lunch boys hang out, guys like the one you work for."
"What could I do there?" Judy wanted to know.
"You name it," Dave replied. "Wanna write copy, or be an art director? Maybe research."
"I wanna do something important with lots of dazzle," Judy said. "I wanna be able to tell people what to do. I wanna be a boss."
"Hold on, hold on," Dave cut in. "Not so fast. I mean, Christ, you gotta crawl before you can creep, right? Let me get you a job in copy or paste-up...something you can learn from the bottom up, where you can learn the business and get some experience..."
"And make less than I make now?" she asked. "No thanks. You owe me this one, Dave. You promised."
"Sure, no problem," Dave replied. "An entry level gig, no sweat. But I can't put you in a supervisory gig. Sit, then it's my ass on the line."
"Hummm, "Judy said thoughtfully. "Let me put it another way. How do you think your wife would feel, not to mention your two little ones at home."
Dave's mouth opened to roughly the size of the Grand Canyon. His mouth opened but the words refused to come.
"How...did you..." he stammered.
"How did I know about your wife and kids?" Judy asked. "I have my ways of knowing. That place you took me to after Bambi's party belonged to a friend who's always out of town."
"You wouldn't go to my wife...?"
"If necessary I would," Judy said simply.
Dave stared at her and shook his head sadly.
"Shit, two weeks ago you were just another Brooklyn housewife who didn't know her ass from a hole in the ground and now you're Superwoman. You sure learn fast, girl."
"I'm no sap," Judy said, quoting her father who often sounded like he'd stepped from the pages of a Damon Runyon story.
"What is it you want?" Dave asked.
"You tell me," Judy responded. "You have a vivid imagination."
"Okay," Dave bargained. "Let me think on this awhile."
"I really wish you would reconsider this move, Judy," Mr. Rowbottom said mournfully as Judy packed her few belongings into a satchel.
"On to bigger and better things," Judy said. "Surely you couldn't expect me to pass up an offer like this one. After all, one doesn't get to be a copy chief every day."
"No, I suppose not," Rowbottom replied. "I didn't even know you had any copy experience."
"There's a lot of things about me you don't know," she replied.
With that, she finished the last of her packing and started out the door.
"Say hello to your family for me," Judy told him, departing. "Tell your wife to start putting out once in a while."
Rowbottom started to say something about also believing in the Easter Bunny but Judy didn't catch it.
She caught the elevator up to the Creative floor and ran into Bambi, who eyed her coolly.
"Onward and upward, huh?" she asked.
"Yes, one could say that," Judy sniffed.
"So now it's copy chief," Bambi said, more to herself than to Judy. "I don't know how you did it. I mean, I know how, but I can't believe they'd put a rookie in that job. They fired the old copy chief, Norm Peterson, to make room for you, did you know that? Norm was here for nearly fifteen years and always did a bang-up job. I guess if a girl just peddles her ass the right way..."
Bambi got no further as Judy's hand swept across her face like a mackerel hitting the deck of a fishing boat.
"One word from me," Judy said as the elevator door opened, "and you're on unemployment."
She vanished down the hall.
Bambi cried.
"You must be Judy," Aaron the copywriter said to his new boss, who looked to be a few years younger than his own twenty-five years. "I'm Aaron Rabinitzki, one of the senior writers here and I'd just like to welcome you..."
"Aaron you say?" Judy asked.
"Yeah, Aaron," he agreed. "And I'd like to..."
"Well, Aaron, why isn't the senior writer writing instead of popping his bill?"
Aaron's grin faded slowly. Another writer, a cute little brunette named Nicki Nanciletti, popped her head out from her office door and smiled.
"Hi, I'm Nicki and I'm working even as we speak."
A real cutie, Judy thought.
"Come out here," Judy said to her.
Nicki appeared. She was a hot number with a perfect set of melons and an even more perfect rear end which rested comfortably inside her Sassoon jeans.
"You look a little young to be copy chief," Nicki told her.
"I may surprise you."
"Wanna have lunch?" Nicki asked.
Judy nodded.
"Sure," Judy agreed. "You can fill me in on everyone in the department. Maybe afterwards, we can check out this furnished place I'm thinking of renting on East Sixty-third."
"East Sixty-third, huh?" Nicki asked. "You must be making mucho bucks to afford that neighborhood."
Judy was now making six-fifty a week plus.
"I guess," she replied.
They had lunch at one of the thousands of Szechuan joints Manhattan has to offer.
Nicki ate moo shoo pork and filled her new boss in on her fellow copywriters.
"Well, besides Aaron there's Gene and Holly and Preston Stergis and about six or seven others. All pretty good, too. All hard workers."
"That means there's almost ten writers," Judy said out loud. "Couldn't five or six do the work?"
"Um...well, I suppose, but...they'd be bogged down, and there's different writers for different assignments, like some work on print ads and some just do copy for radio ads while others just write commercials..."
"Maybe," Judy said, "but if these writers are as good as you say, then they can write anything, not just one thing. If I can trim some fat from the department, it'll look good to the big boys upstairs."
"I don't know," Nicki said. "All the writers are pretty loaded down as it is."
"That's why I saw two out of the ten writers in the agency," Judy said. "Where were the rest? Don't tell me out to lunch, either, because it was only ten in the morning."
"Um..."
"Well, we'll discuss this later," Judy said, reaching for the check. "I wanna check out that apartment. Shit, I gotta get out of Brooklyn. It's nowhere."
They taxied uptown to East Sixty-third to a posh, doorman'd highrise, then took the elevator up to floor so high up Nicki thought her nose would start bleedings. The doorman had given Judy the key.
Inside they found a dull but adequately furnished studio with a small kitchen that went for two grand a month.
"Jeez," Nicki said, clearly impressed. "Pretty fancy. Pricey, too, I bet. I don't know how you can afford it."
Judy smiled but did not reply.
What Nicki had no way of knowing (but heavily suspected all the same) that Judy would be living -there rent-free, courtesy of four senior V.P.'s who pooled their money to rent the place. Judy would service each of them accordingly on a strictly scheduled basis.
Judy sat on the round bed and bounced up and down. Nicki did the same.
"Nice bed," Nicki commented.
"Wanna try it out?"
"I beg your pardon?" Nicki asked, wondering if she'd heard her boss correctly.
She had.
"I asked if you wanted to try it out," Judy repeated.
Nicki wasn't too sure how to reply. She knew what Judy was suggesting—she'd gotten several similar proposals from some of the office dykes, though none had been as attractive as Judy.
She'd never made it with another girl before, although her boyfriend had always wanted her to so he could take pictures. But he was a pervert.
Judy sensed Nicki's hesitation and decided to sweeten the pot. She wanted to roll in the hay with Nicki, for it was something she had never tried, either.
"If you say yes," Judy proposed, "you'll still have a job tomorrow. If not, well, one never knows, do one?"
Nicki started to unbutton her blouse, then reached behind and unhooked her bra. Her firm, lovely boobs were in full view. She had nice rounded nipples that grew erect as Judy's hands caressed them.
She eased Nicki onto her back.
Nicki could feel her pussy stirring with excitement.
Judy planted her lips on Nicki's left nipple and sucked deeply on it. Nicki ran her fingers through Judy's silky hair as she felt the warm, wet lips loving dabbing at her nipple.
"You have lovely breasts," Judy said hoarsely. This pixish brunette turned her on the way no man ever had.
"Let me see yours," Nicki whispered.
They squirmed out of their clothes and slid under the covers. The floor was strewn with jeans, blouses, stockings and shoes.
They embraced tightly.
Their lips met. They kissed passionately, lovingly, swapping spits.
Judy worked her way down Nicki's curvaceous body, kissing and licking up a storm. Judy prepared to muff-dive, something she eagerly anticipated.
She gently spread apart Nicki's pussy lips and dabbed hungrily at the sexy girl's enflamed clitoris.
Nicki began to relax, finding it hard to believe that the girl between her legs was her new boss and barely out of her teens.
Judy continued to lap at Nicki's twat. She probed the cherry-red clitoris. Nicki started to cream, a fine drizzle of liquid oozing from her cunt.
"Eat me, eat me," Nicki begged as something awakened deep inside of her.
Judy pigged out.
She lapped at Nicki's burning bush until the sexy bitch flinched under her and started moaning orgasmically.
Nicki shrieked, turned red and came a second time. Not even Larry, her boyfriend, had ever made her come so fast and furiously.
"Did I do something right?" Judy asked, her voice muffled under the covers. "I'm kinda new at this."
"You catch on quick then," Nicki panted.
Judy made her way back up Nicki's svelte body. It was Nicki's turn to disappear under the covers.
She settled on Judy's breasts and liked what she found.
She kissed the nipples tenderly and was somewhat surprised when Judy moaned, "make it hurt, baby"
"What?"
"Make it hurt," Judy gasped. "Please."
Nicki shrugged and bit gently into Judy's plump nipple, her teeth leaving bite marks.
Judy wailed and kicked into overdrive. Nicki responded by grabbing the opposite boob and squeezing it like a lemon.
She continued biting the nipple.
"Oh yeah," Judy groaned. "Make it hurt more..."
Nicki did so obligingly. She did the same to the other nipple and pinched the other between her thumb and forefinger.
Judy thought she would go insane with wanton lust. She forced Nicki's face down on her melons with one hand and squeezed the girl's ass cheeks with the other. She liked to keep busy.
Nicki finished in the breast department. They embraced again and undulated their groins, their hot twats rubbing sensuously, arms and legs a tangle of firm, young flesh.
They kissed and bumped pussies passionately. Judy worked her fingers into Nicki's twat and diddled her clit furiously.
Nicki picked up Judy's cue and did the same. They stroked each other steadily and in perfect rhythm.
They climaxed simultaneously, still embracing tightly, and then relaxed. It was almost five P.M.
"How much do you make a week?" Judy asked.
"Three-fifty," Nicki replied.
"You make five bills now," Judy told her.
The following day, Judy canned three writers and cut the salaries of two others.
"This is just AWFUL," said Gene Lazibell, one of the ones who survived. Aaron sit at his desk and stared at a cup of cold coffee. "Just who does this girl think she is, firing the others like that? It's deplorable. She'll never get away with it."
"She already did," Aaron said glumly. His salary had been cut by fifty bills a week. He was not pleased.
"What do you mean?" Gene asked. He was a tall, slightly balding dude who wrote the best direct mail copy in New York.
"The boys upstairs are behind her all the way," Aaron said. "They're kissing her ass on everything."
"I'm not surprised," Gene replied. "I've seen her type before. Suck the right dicks and the next day you're a V.P. But they never last. They always find a way to trip themselves up. You'll see, it'll happen to this Judy person and I'll lay you twenty to one it happens before the month is out."
"I'll take a piece of that bet," Judy said, coming into the office with a stack of papers.
Gene's complexion quickly turned from a healthy pink to an unhealthy shade closely resembling feta cheese.
"You really have watch your ass in this place," Judy told him, enjoying his torment. "You never know who may be listening."
"Yes," he croaked, and left. Judy was alone with Aaron.
"You don't like me, do you?" she asked him.
"N-No," Aaron replied nervously. "Why should I?"
"Are you mad because I cut your pay?"
"No."
"You're a liar," Judy told him, "but I don't blame you."
Aaron said nothing.
"I need a favor," Judy said, sitting at his desk.
"A favor?" Aaron asked. "What could I possibly do for you?"
"I need a date for some advertising dinner at the Waldorf," she explained, "one who won't make demands, the sexual kind."
"Why me?"
"You're available, are you not?" she asked.
"Sure, I guess," Aaron replied. "When?"
"Tonight at eight," she said, writing her new address down on a blotter. "Seven-thirty tonight. Be there, and on time."
"Ahem... harumpphhh... and in conclusion," droned the old geezer on the podium, "I would just like to say that this has been a banner year for everyone concerned..."
Judy sat at the table in the Waldorf ballroom and wished she was somewhere else. Like Ecuador.
The guest speaker, a tuxedo'd man who looked to be about three hundred, rambled on about the advertising business back in the Roaring Twenties, though most of the folks attending the banquet were getting restless, especially since the bar was closed.
Judy's presence had been requested at this banquet by one of her sponsors, a ruggedly handsome V.P. named J J. Buckstretcher, whose weekly visit to Judy's new pad usually fell on a Wednesday night.
JJ was seated on Judy's left. Aaron was seated on her right. J.J., Judy noted, was with his wife, a heavily made up blonde with a huge bust named Velma. She looked like a real steamroller.
Judy wondered how such a hunk like JJ could have married such a frowsy bimbo like Velma.
Under the table, JJ squeezed her leg. Velma did not notice.
Finally, the aging guest speaker, who looked like he had a few years on Obi wan Kenobi, was escorted off the stage by two ushers.
With that, Velma excused herself and went to the ladies room.
JJ leaned over to Judy.
"Who's your date?" he asked with his Texas drawl.
"You don't know him?" Judy asked.
"No."
"You should," Judy said. "He's one of your writers."
"So sue me," JJ grinned. "Can you get rid of him so's you and me can rendezvous later at your place?"
"What about your wife?"
"I'll tell her we got a meeting afterwards," JJ told her. "Believe me, she'll go for it. She always does."
"What time?" Judy asked.
"A little after midnight," JJ said, then clammed up as he saw his wife return to the table.
Judy turned to Aaron, he also wished he was someplace else, preferably Yankee Stadium where a double header with Baltimore was in full swing.
"Let's leave," Judy said. "This place is dullsville."
They left.
JJ shot her a wink as they departed.
Outside, the Waldorf doorman hailed them a cab. Judy got in first. Aaron started to climb in after her, but she pushed him away.
"I won't be needing your services anymore, Aaron," Judy sniffed. "You can go home if you want."
"Don't you want me to take you home?" he asked, looking hurt. He'd hoped to jump her bones that night, feeling it was owed to him for eating the stale chicken and listening to a bunch of stale speakers.
"I'll be fine," Judy replied. "You run on home now, okay?"
Aaron opened his mouth to reply but Judy slammed the taxi door before he could speak.
"A Mr. Buckstretcher to see you, Miss," said the concierge over the house phone.
"Send him up," Judy instructed.
She went to the fridge and pulled out a few plates filled with JJ's favorite snacks: Polish kielbasa on Ritz crackers. He was a man of simple tastes, unlike her other sponsors, who preferred the more expensive delicasies like caviar and shit of that ilk.
No matter. JJ and the other V.P.'s were footing the bill. They could afford it.
JJ knocked three times.
"It's open," Judy called from the kitchen.
JJ sauntered in, already half naked. Those Texans didn't fool around.
He was wearing only his pants and shoes. His shirt and sports jacket were tucked under his arm. Of all of Judy's sponsors, JJ was definitely the best looking and best built of the bunch.
"Hey, darlin'," he drawled, dropping his clothes on the floor and taking her in his arms.
He kissed her passionately, his hefty arms engulfing her.
"You kiss the others like that?" he asked when they broke apart.
"Are you jealous?" she asked back as he led her to the bed.
"Insanely," he replied, pushing her down. "I may have to fire the others so's I can have you all to myself."
"If they don't all fire you first," Judy replied.
Judy, clad only in the skimpiest of negligees, slid her hand into JJ's pants and started fondling his Texas longhorn.
"Oooh," she squealed. "I feel something hard here."
He squeezed her tit.
"And I feel something soft," he chuckled.
He pinched her nipple. Judy moaned.
JJ knew her type. She was like a young filly who needed discipline.
And JJ was just the man to administer it.
"I been hearin' that you've been a bad little girl," he said.
"Oh, I have, I have," Judy said, getting into the swing of things. "A very naughty little girl."
"And do you think you should be punished?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I've been naughty, and worse."
"How much worse?" JJ asked.
"I've been a slut," Judy replied in a husky voice. "I fucked a stranger last week. He punished me good."
"Better than me?" JJ asked.
Judy nodded.
JJ started getting mad. She loved it when he got mad and punished her.
He stood and pulled his belt out from around his waist. At the end was a brass buckle in the shape of a steer.
Judy liked that belt the best.
"Bend over, you wanton little hussy," JJ commanded.