(This is the last part of the story I’ll share a preview for. All following parts will go out to my paying subscribers only.)
Intern Style Guide Entry #8: When referring to an intern in writing, use the numeral instead of spelling it out. This is to remind us that interns are not people.
Ms. Kim
Expectations are important.
And so are utterly fucking with them. It was less a philosophy and more of a golden rule. You’ve got to fuck with people, Ms. Kim would say after two or three dirty martinis. Otherwise, they start to expect something, and you can’t have that. Not if you’re going to lead an interesting life, which she fully intended to do.
New interns offered the perfect opportunity to turn preconceived notions on their heads. That, and a chance to get off in one of her favorite ways.
By the time 37 stood outside Ms. Kim’s office, Celia had already drunk her morning coffee with a healthy shot of bourbon in it. Her couch was comfortable (she did believe in comfort, after all), and she leaned back, so full of anticipation she thought she might shit. While she wasn’t crass enough to use the term “fresh meat” out loud, she did think it. In fact, she mumbled it while rubbing her hands together, wondering if the new thing could do as she was told.
Outside her office, Intern 4 sat at a desk in one of the few articles of clothing interns were ever allowed to wear: a black dress slit up both sides so high that if she turned too quickly, you’d not only get a glimpse of her bare ass but of her ample breasts as well. The dress was designed to say, “you might be liked enough to wear clothes, but they mean nothing.”
“I’m here for Ms. Kim,” 37 said as properly as she could muster. Her ass hurt, her cunt was still dripping cum, and her head was abuzz with her first day at work.
“Obviously, dear,” 4 said, shaking her head as if brushing off a fly. “Read this and follow all instructions perfectly. No questions.”
The sheet of so-called instructions had one line on it. If it was a joke, 37 didn’t get it, but she nevertheless read it repeatedly until she had memorized it. It was simple, but she was bright enough to know there was more to it, even if she didn’t know what to expect. She took a deep breath, brushed her hair to one side, nodded, and then approached Ms. Kim’s office door.
Intern 37 forced a smile, straightened her shoulders, remembered not to knock, and then walked into the office like she owned the place.
Ms. Kim looked up at the interruption with a glance that spelled trouble.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing in my office, young lady?”
With shaky hands, 37 walked to the closet without a word, opened it, and took out the red dress hanging on the left side. She fumbled as she pulled it on, wondering what the hell was happening, while behind her, Ms. Kim continued to berate her, calling her everything from a “prissy little bitch” to an “entitled piece of shit.”
When she was fully dressed, 37 walked behind the desk, pulled out the comfortable office chair, and then sat down, doing her best imitation of someone who was used to being in charge. Sitting in front of her, typed carefully on white letterhead, was one page of clear instructions. She read them twice before sitting up, leaning back, and clearing her throat.
“Get off the fucking couch, and let me look at you, you miserable cunt” she said, praying her voice didn’t break. To her surprise, Ms. Kim gave her a nasty look but did as she was told. “Good, now what the hell are you doing in those clothes? How am I supposed to look at you when you’re all dolled up like a corporate whore?”
“Yes, Mam,” Ms. Kim said, her voice wavering between obedience and lust. As 37 watched, the other woman slowly began to undress, folding each piece of clothing and hanging them in the closet or placing them on the small table within. When she finally stood nude in front of her desk, her excitement was evident to anyone with a decent sense of smell.
Looking at the sheet in front of her, 37 gathered her courage one more time. The entire encounter had taken her by surprise; it had also confused her. Out of all the things she thought she might be put through (torture, abuse, mind-fuckerery, violation, etc.), this was not on her list.
“You think you’re all fucking special because you’re an executive? Do you think that fucking means something to me? Look at you standing there naked and trembling like a goddamned virgin. You might as well be the stupidest intern in the world for all I care. Now stand up straight and get those nipples hard for me, slut.”
The wording wasn’t exact. But its nature was explicit all the same: verbal abuse, degrading language, and a demanding tone of voice.
As the words flew from her mouth, 37 began to realize something. While she behaved as if she were in charge, she still knew better. And even though she was berating this woman as best as she could, beneath it all, she was terrified of fucking it up.
It was a more demanding challenge than she expected, but when the realization hit her, her body let out a shiver of release, and she felt herself instantly grow wet. She wasn’t in charge. Not really. She was simply in the middle of a test, and if she failed it, who knew what would happen?
While Ms. Kim followed directions, pinching her nipples before licking her fingers and touching herself, 37 re-read the directions to ensure she didn’t miss anything. While her employer looked vulnerable in front of her, she realized instantly that this woman was anything but. And if she fucked up now, there would be hell to pay.
“Get on your knees, you filthy little cum-slut. I know what you want, and I’m inclined to give it to you.” She took another breath and added something that, while accurate, was not in the instructions. “Especially since I was just fucked by Intern 17 who came insdie me at least twice.”
Ms. Kim’s eyes opened wide as she slid to the floor, moving onto her hands and knees without so much as pausing to kneel correctly. As 37 pushed her chair back and waved with one hand, the older woman crawled towards her, her mouth-watering as she licked her lips.