Serving MS Walters
Millie Dynamite
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He finds his place, prostrate at her feet, gazing upward.
Millie Dynamite
© Copyright 2014/21/24 by Millie Dynamite
This work contains material not suitable for anyone under eighteen (18) or those of a delicate nature. This is a story and contains descriptive scenes of a graphic, sexual nature, and violence. This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Serving MS Walters
The woman wandered around the room, an empress staking out her domain. In the same manner, MS Walters studied his application and resume, making ticking noises in her mouth as she did. The ticking sounds when you press your tongue to the roof of your mouth and jerk it away. “Tick, tick, tick,” accompanied by the guttural sound of disgust, “Augh.” This was the sound one makes, for no, no, no. The expression one makes when one is less than impressed with what one read about an applicant.
To Derick, she appeared to be no older than 27 or 28 years old. She was, in fact, 39. With furtive glances, he examined her, trying not to appear to be gawking. However, he was ogling her.
The woman wore an impossibly tight blue dress, which came only to her upper thighs. The fabric strained to contain her ample bosoms, with fat nipples poking out in small hills marking the center of his attention. Like miniature versions of billboards on the highway, drawing your gaze from where it should be, demanding your attention.
“‘Look at us! Pay attention to us! Come on, you know you love what we’ve got!’” The energetic, tantalizing echoes of her breasts and nipples seemed to scream at him. A bold and daring call to arms, they demanded his attention. So, he obeyed. His eyes gawked, darting between the alluring curves of her bosom and the rest of her enticing body, drawn back time and again by the irresistible pull of her captivating eyes. All this while his mind fought to focus on her words - provided the formidable MS Walters would deign to offer more than mere grunts and other discontented utterances.
Her stockings, a lacey veil of seduction, clung tightly to the sinewy muscles of her legs, accentuating their captivating shape. The clicking rhythm of her spiked heels on the tiled floor served as a hypnotic metronome, each beat luring Derick deeper into her web.
Her open-toed shoes offered just enough of a tantalizing glimpse of her painted toenails for his eyes to lock onto. Meanwhile, the interviewer remained silent, her piercing gaze scrutinizing his application and resume with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine. A slight shake of her head and a snarled lip conveyed a message of disgust that made it clear—the outcome wouldn’t be favorable.
The stern expression on her face, her intense glower as she studied his resume, was a stark reminder of his youth and lack of experience. For Derick was but a fledgling in the work-a-day world, an innocent babe in the realm of business. And with women? His understanding was equally naive. His insight into life—and indeed into the complex desires of a woman like her—was woefully inadequate. These factors coalesced into a potent cocktail of fear and self-loathing, fueling his need for harsh treatment.
Her very presence was an electrifying jolt to his system. His heart pounded like a war drum, adrenaline surged through his veins like a torrent, and his blood pressure soared high enough to make his temples throb with a pulsating rhythm. This throbbing wasn’t restricted to his head either. Armed with all the self-control he could muster, he fought to regulate his breathing and control his physical reactions. The fear of incurring her anger loomed large, yet a part of him couldn’t help but wonder how wrathful she could be?
“Useless, irrelevant, waste of time,” she whispered. The sound of hostility resonated in her tone and the words chosen. All the while, MS Walters chucked at the meager work history. “Liberal arts, communication major,” she spat the words. “What a useless degree, speech, drama, fucking, absolute waste of human effort.”
The amazon’s words reinforced his views of himself. A longstanding opinion of his inadequacies in life. The improbability he was remotely qualified for any job that MS Shauna Walters, Executive Vice-President of Acquisitions for Stewart, Henning, and Saunders, would interview him as a prospect for was a mystery. A mystery worthy of consideration by Holmes, Poirot, or Masson, his three favorite fictional sleuths.
For a moment, his mind wandered. If Perry Masson were a woman, would her name be Perry or Perri? “What the hell,” he thought, returning his attention to the current situation.
This poor young man applied for a data entry clerk. A mistake had been made. One didn’t have an interview with an executive vice president for a data entry position. With a sinking heart, the young fellow understood he wasn’t qualified for the job. A disappointed certainty he wasn’t getting hired infested his mind. The not-yet 21-year-old’s nerves were frazzled. Insecurity fogged his brain as he searched for why he’d be summoned to an interview.
The weight of it crashed down on him. The holding company bought and sold major corporations like the local Walmart purchased and resold facial tissue. A fine, yet perceptible, film of perspiration covered his face, his hands trembled, and his uneasy expectation pestered the young man. He’d fail, most spectacularly, in this interview. To make matters worse, his prick came to life as soon as he saw the shapely blonde.
Walking back to the desk, she opened a wooden box and removed a short, thin, brown cigarillo, “Smoking is prohibited in this building.” She spoke as she lit the cigar, “The rule is for you, not me.” with a disgruntled, small sigh, she tossed his paperwork on her leather blotter and sauntered behind the massive mahogany desk.