Chapter 1 lesbian sex story – girl Friday
“Oh mistress, I love your fingers in my pussy!” I was moaning as I felt yet another of her fingers joining in on the stretching of my insides. In truth it did hurt a bit, but it was a good hurt, the kind that tests your limits and gets the endorphins pumping. Now, if I could just fit her thumb in too, that would be her whole hand inside me and that would be a first. The thought of that made me a little anxious, but honestly, I’d do it for her right now if she wanted me to. That’s how much I love my mistress.
I wasn’t always so head over heels for her. It had started out as a simple business relationship. A well-to-do executive needed a bit of arm candy and a broke college student desperately needed money. You can probably guess which one I was.
I grew up in a shitty little town with no real opportunities, so as soon as I graduated high school I packed up and hit the road. Headed off to college in the big city. It was a great experience, but also a very expensive one, and after two semesters I found myself flat broke. So I answered an ad in the college newspaper. ‘Girl Friday,’ it said, ‘Female executive needs go-to girl. Hours and duties vary. Excellent compensation package!’ I really perked up at that last line.
The interview was, well, frankly weird. If it had been a man interviewing me it would have been a sexual harassment lawsuit all gift-wrapped with a bow on top. But the interviewer was a woman and I didn’t know exactly where the line was drawn in such a situation. Probably still sexual harassment now that I think of it, but I did mention that I was pretty desperate for cash, right? So I stuck it out.
The woman conducting the interview was tall and blonde with high cheekbones, her hair pulled back in a severe little bun and half-rim glasses. She had a very commanding presence about her. Beautiful too, in a sexy librarian sort of way. Add to that the tight-fitting dress she wore and her stockings with the seam up the back and I’d say she was a knockout.
She never invited me to sit during the entire interview, which was odd, nor did she sit. She just kept circling me, eyeing me up and down as I stood just inside the door of her office. “My name is Karin,” she said, “with human resources. I assume you’re here about the employment ad.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered, my eyes downcast, feeling too intimidated to meet her gaze.
“Do you like my stockings?” she asked. I was a little taken aback by the question. Without hesitating she continued, “You’ve been staring at my legs since I walked in. So I think you either like my stockings or you like my legs. Which is it?”
“Uh, uh,” I stammered, “I don’t know.”
“Surely you must have some idea,” Karin insisted as she took my hand and placed it on her thigh. “Which is it, the stocking or the leg? Which turns you on?”
“Uh, both, I guess,” was my non-committal reply.
“Can’t make up your mind, hmm?” she said. “Then we shall give you a test.”
I watched in shock as my interviewer hiked up her dress far enough to unhook one stocking from her garter belt. She then proceeded to roll it down her leg to expose bare skin above her knee. Karin took my one hand and placed it on her bare thigh while she put my other hand on the stocking-clad side.
“There,” she said, “which one do you like better?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer, but I finally managed to choke out a reply. “It’s your legs, ma’am. I like your legs,” was my timid response, “they’re very sexy.”
“I should hope so,” she said, “I work very hard to keep them that way. Are you willing to work hard …” She paused, looked down on my application for a second and then finished with, “Charlotte?”
My god. She had to look up my name. Here she’s got me feeling her up and she didn’t even know my name yet! “Yes, ma’am,” was my only reply.
“Good,” she said leaning back against the edge of the desk, “now get on your knees and show me.” I hesitated, not really believing what she was asking me to do, so she repeated her request more sternly and with more detailed instructions. “Either get down on your knees and start licking my pussy or find the door, Charlotte.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I responded and dropped to my knees. Seeing that I was ready to obey, Karin lifted her dress to give me access. I was treated to the sight of her beautiful shorn pussy that was already moist with anticipation. I haven’t eaten a lot of pussy in my lifetime, in fact only once during my freshman year, but I was giving it my all for this interview.
“Don’t forget about fingers, Charlotte,” Karin was saying as I ran my tongue over and around her smooth mound, “I like to feel fingers when I’m being licked. Two fingers to be exact.” I did as she asked and parted her with my index and middle finger. She was extremely wet and my digits slipped in with ease. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. For a job interview! What had I gotten myself into?
Just as I was beginning to wonder if she expected me to take her all the way to the peak, Karin abruptly commanded me to stop and stood up. She pulled her dress back down and smoothed out any wrinkles. “Your turn,” she said, “undress and bend over the desk.” I hesitated for only a second before complying with her order. I unbuttoned my blouse and cast it aside and then removed my bra.
“Real or fake,” Karin asked as her gaze fell upon my chest. I assumed she meant my breasts.
“Real,” I replied, “I can’t afford enhancement.”
“Nice,” she said as she cupped my breasts in her hands, “about a 34C?”
“34B” was my honest answer.
“Good. Let’s get those pants off,” she was insisting. “Quickly now, I haven’t got all day.”
I dropped my trousers and my panties into a puddle around my ankles and stepped out of them.
“Did you forget something, Charlotte?”, Karin asked, “I believe you were supposed to be bending over my desk.” And I felt her hand between my shoulder blades, pushing me down. The desk was polished wood and it was cold on my skin as I bent over. “Good, good,” my interviewer praised when I did as she had asked, “but you didn’t do it until I reminded you. For that you will receive punishment.”
She said it so matter-of-factly I almost didn’t catch it at first. ‘Oh, isn’t the sky a lovely shade of blue today, Charlotte, and by the way you’re going to be punished.’ Bizarre! But my body betrayed me and I felt my nipples hardening at the thought of what Karin might do to punish me. Or maybe it was the cold desk. Oh, who am I fooling, it was probably both.
“Let’s see,” she mused, “I think three ought to do it.”
“Three what?” I wondered. And then I felt the strap hit me square on my ass. I don’t know where she was hiding it, certainly not in that skin-tight dress she was wearing, but Karin managed to produce a short, leather strap about an inch wide from somewhere. I know this because she showed it to me after it connected with my ass as if to say, ‘I want you to see what I’m punishing you with.’
“Oww!” I cried out.
“Silence!” Karin commanded, “If I hear you complain again, I will double the number of lashes. I’ll let you slide for now since you’re still learning and I’m feeling generous. Do you think I’m being generous, Charlotte?”
Thwack! I felt the strap connect with my butt again.
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, “very generous.” The sting was intense, but I wasn’t about to mention it.
“Good,” she said as I felt the strap land for the third, and what I hoped was the final time. “You’ve got a nice little ass Charlotte. And I’d say it looks rather good in pink.” I felt the heat rising in my cheeks as her hand was caressing my butt. The animal instincts of my hindbrain were screaming for me to collect my clothes and bolt for the door. But for whatever reason, I pushed those thoughts aside. I was fascinated as well as a little frightened and, truthfully, the strangeness of it all was kind of turning me on.
“Mmph,” I let escape as I felt Karin’s finger suddenly pressing deep into my pussy. What the hell! Where did that come from? She wiggled it around for a moment before she withdrew it. I shuddered a bit, still trying to wrap my mind around how I’d just been violated by my interviewer.
“Nice and tight,” she complemented, “though we’ll need to have you waxed before you start.”
“Before I start,” I thought, “did that mean I was hired?” I was about to ask when I saw Karin bring her finger around and pause, hovering just in front of my face.
“Clean it off,” she ordered. I opened my mouth, knowing exactly what she meant, and slowly, deliberately, sucked my juices off of her long and slender finger.
“Very good,” she praised, “Come back tomorrow at nine o’clock sharp for orientation. If you want the job that is.”
“Oh, yes, ma’am,” I said, “very much so. Thank you!” I’m not sure if she even heard all of it, because she was already out the door by the time I finished.
I was beginning to wonder just what I had agreed to as I was putting my clothes back on. “I guess I’ll find out tomorrow,” I thought as I showed myself out.
I arrived at eight forty-five just to make sure I wasn’t late. I wanted to make a good impression and I certainly didn’t need any more whacks on my ass for tardiness. Other girls began trickling in. They all looked to be about my age. There were eleven of us total in the lobby by the time nine o’clock rolled around.
At precisely nine, the door opened and Karin greeted us all with, “Welcome to orientation, girls. Come this way.” We all dutifully followed. I assumed the other girls had a similar interview experience as mine and nobody wanted to piss off the H.R. lady. “Be seated,” she said motioning to the seats around a long, wooden conference table. “We’re going to start with a short video.”
“I wonder what it’s called?” I thought to myself, “Spanking, your misunderstood friend?” I had to bite my tongue to suppress the giggle I felt rising in my throat. “Not a good way to start your first day, Charlotte,” admonished the little voice inside my head.
The video was amazingly sedate. Based on the way my interview was conducted, I was expecting at least soft-core porn. But instead we were treated to scenes of girls cooking, cleaning and running errands for their clients, normal personal assistant stuff. And in typical corporate propaganda style, they all had cheesy grins permanently plastered on their faces the whole time. This was particularly evident when it came to the compensation part of the video. The girl in that scene was smiling like a Cheshire Cat as she received her expense account debit card.
Then came the ‘other duties’ portion of the video. There was a scene of the girl accompanying her client to what looked like a fancy corporate dinner party of some kind. The girl was smiling and laughing as she stood arm-in-arm with the woman who was conversing with the other guests. There were scenes of scrumptious-looking hor d’oeuvres, fancy umbrella drinks, decadent desserts and dancing. Lots of dancing.
Then there was the after-party scene. This was more like what I had been expecting. The scene showed a girl rubbing her client’s tired shoulders, the straps of her party dress hanging loosely about her arms. The video was doing a good job of making it look very enjoyable for both parties.
After about thirty seconds, the scene cut from shoulder massage to full body massage. The client was lying face down on a massage table, her body glistening with oil, with just a small towel covering her butt. The girl was busy massaging the back of her client’s thigh, inching slowly upward, and then very subtly slipping her hand under the towel. Now it was the client’s turn to grin like a Cheshire Cat. After that the video ended and the lights came back up.
“If there are any questions, you should ask them now,” Karin suggested. Nobody had any. “Alright, let’s split you girls into two groups and we’ll start your training.”
The training lasted all week. I was surprised at how much time was spent on the mundane stuff, like proper table manners and engaging in small-talk. I guess it would not do to embarrass our clients by using the wrong fork at dinner or saying something stupid to one of her coworkers at a party. By Friday we had finished up basic meal preparation and were starting on sensual body massage. For this training exercise the two groups came back together, one for the massagers and one for the massagees, then we swapped places. It was actually quite a nice way to wrap up the week.
On Monday there was a test to make sure we retained the knowledge imparted to us in the previous week. All of us passed except for one girl. She was told by Karin that she would need to repeat the training. I’m not sure how many whacks with the strap would precede her retaking the course, but I imagine it was going to be more than three for blowing a whole week’s worth of instruction. I think she sensed it too, because she looked a little frightened when Karin told her to wait in her office.
Along with an embossed certificate of completion for my training, I also received my client assignment. It was just an address and a time, nothing else. I put on one of the new outfits that I had purchased with my expense account and caught a cab to the address I had been given. Not knowing what else to do, I rang the bell and waited. I was greeted by a beautiful woman with shoulder-length auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was looking very sporty wearing a towel around her neck and spandex workout gear that did a nice job of accentuated her curves.