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Subject: {ASSM} Story: Mr. Walter's Helper (Mf, MF+, BDSM, Rom) - MWH01.txt [1/1]
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THE USUAL WARNINGS:
This is a work of fiction by a twisted mind. If you are
offended by graphic descriptions of natural and/or unnatural
sexual acts, if you are underage, or if this type of
material is illegal where you are, don't read any further.
This is a fantasy. You will have to loosen your clench on
reality a little when you read it. This is a tale in which
physical acts and human responses are not limited to, nor
necessarily based in, reality. Some acts and responses in
this story may be physically impossible and/or
physiologically improbable.
Also, as is the case with most of the stories in this
newsgroup, all the women in this story are beautiful;
gorgeous, even. Gravity has not caused their breasts to
droop nor have wrinkles creased their unblemished faces.
The men (the leading men, at least) are hung like bulls.
They can get it up and keep it up often and at will. In
this special little fantasyland, there are no STDs, morals,
or unwanted pregnancies; and guilt is a four-letter word.
But most important of all, no amount of strength of
character, courage of convictions or moral beliefs stand a
chance against an erotic stimulus. This can be as benign as
an accidental glimpse of a bared ankle or as stimulating as
a whipping on the genitals.
For those of you who didn’t understand the preceding
statements, GO AWAY!
This story is intended for the salacious entertainment of
consenting adults. Do not try to do any of the things
described in this story. You will injure yourself or your
partner. Or be arrested, or shot by her father....
If you are under 18 years of age, GO AWAY! This story will
burn your eyeballs and fry your brain.
If material of a strong sexual nature is prohibited where
you are, GO AWAY!
By continuing, the reader accepts all responsibility for any
disgust, revulsion, jail sentences, or pleasure that results
from reading this story. If you don’t, GO AWAY!
You have been warned!
If you enjoy this story and feel the urge to post it on a
<free> site, at least give me (NightShade) credit for it.
So, stick your tongue firmly in your cheek and enjoy the
story!....?
NightShade
Mr. Walter’s Helper
by NightShade
(FF, MF, oral, vaginal, anal, light bd, light sm, rom)
12/96, revised 6/99
Chapter 1
Elmer had watched an endless parade of job applicants for
three days. For the miserly wages the cheap bitch owner who
ran Silver’s Department Store, where he worked, was willing
to pay for his assistant, it was no wonder the people who
applied for the job had no idea what being a photographer’s
assistant was about. Most of the applicants just sat in the
chair across from his desk and dumbly nodded at his
questions. Then they asked him to sign a form for the
Unemployment Office to show they had been looking for a job.
What a fucking waste of time!
It was with not a small amount of rancor that he waited for
his next appointment. Ol’ lady Silver’s secretary had set
this one up herself. Orders from the top. No way to say
‘No’ on this one. During the one-sided conversation he had
had less than an hour ago, the secretary doing all the
talking, he had as much as been told that he would hire this
next applicant, no questions asked. This one, a young girl,
was a relative of the big bitch herself and she was taking a
personal interest in finding her something to do.
How Mrs. Silver got saddled babysitting her niece made for
interesting speculation, but you had to give it to her. She
had really been trying to find a spot for her. Apparently,
Mrs. Silver’s niece had screwed up her last four positions
in Finance, Counter Sales, Customer Service and Shipping.
He guessed that put him at the bottom of the corporate totem
pole as the in-house photographer for Advertising. Elmer
was the last place for the owner to dump her niece, and she
had been assigned to him. The interview process was simply
a formality.
He had been told to use her however he could and to keep her
out of Mrs. Silver’s way. No one else in the company wanted
her after the stories of her catastrophic performances in
the other departments had gone around the rumor mill. Elmer
hadn’t heard all of them, but he could almost hear the
secretary’s eyes rolling in her head over the phone.
Fuming and muttering as he was, he didn’t hear the timid
knock on the door. When he didn’t answer, the knock came
again, this time only slightly louder.
“Come in,” he barked.
The door crept open just enough to let in an obviously shy
young girl. He guessed her age at 16 or 17, though she had
to be at least 18 to work here. Or were relatives exempt?
He couldn’t remember. The waif-like girl was dressed in a
shapeless old frock and run-down, but sensible shoes. Her
dirty dark hair was oily and stringy, hanging in clumps.
There was no make-up on her face. This frumpy, lumpy
shapeless blob was not at all what he had expected of the
owner’s niece. He had expected a spoiled brat, not
Cinderella.
“Please, sit down,” he said. Her wide-eyed innocent look
amused him, and he cocked his head as he looked at her more
closely.
His photographer’s eye automatically analyzed her and he was
surprised when he found that she had possibilities in front
of the camera. Very strong possibilities. The bone
structure of her face would accept make-up nicely. She had
classic lines in her cheekbones and nose. He couldn’t make
out her figure through the multiple layers of her dress, but
her face didn’t show either excess fat or anorexia.
“Not a beauty right now, but she definitely could be a
looker,” he thought to himself. Out loud he started, “I’m
Elmer Walters. So, you’re going to be working for me, Miss
…?”
He paused, waiting for her to supply her last name for him.
“Suzy,” she answered. “Suzy Smith. But please call me
Suzy.”
“OK, Suzy. What do you know about photography or
advertising?,” he continued, not knowing what to expect
with this one.
“Oh, is that what you do down here?,” she asked
innocently, not realizing she had touched a nerve as to the
location of his office. “Nothing, I guess.”
Inwardly, Elmer flinched. “Damn that woman and all her
fucking relatives.”
With a sigh, Elmer began to outline the responsibilities of
the job to the young girl. He talked about working all
night to meet the newspaper deadlines, doing make-up for the
models, building the sets, getting the props down the
freight elevators from the various departments upstairs and
then back before the store opened in the morning, loading
the still cameras, working with the film, running the back-
up video cameras, setting up the lights for the shoots and
developing the film.
The girl sat quietly and listened. Elmer was not sure if
she had understood anything until he noticed a tear trickle
down her cheek.
“Oh, SHIT!,” he swore under his breath. “A fuckin’
crier.”
Biting his tongue, he softly asked, “Is there something
wrong?” It came out a whole lot more gentle than he felt,
but this was the boss’s niece, and who knew how direct the
pipeline back was to the boss.
This show of sympathy, however false, seemed to break the
dam holding back a flood of tears. Finally, she stopped the
flow of tears, wiped the snot running from her nose on a
soiled handkerchief she pulled from the sleeve of her
blouse. She started mumbling with her head bent down in
shame.
“Suzy! Sit up straight and speak up!,” he told her
sharply.
Startled, she sat up.
“Yes Sir! But I can’t do make-up. I – I – I don’t know
how,” she managed to get out between sobs. “And I
wouldn’t know which end of a camera to point at the models.
And, well, I - I –I…”, she stuttered on.
“Easy to fix that!,” he answered. “I know a couple of
the girls up in Cosmetics. You can take lessons from them.
And we’ll get you some clothes from the Young Miss
Department and make an appointment with the Beauty Salon.”
He paused. “Can you start tomorrow? OK? We’ll teach you
everything else you need to know as we go along.”
The look of gratitude in her eyes amazed him.
“Had no one ever shown this kid even basic kindness?,” he
wondered as he watched her leave his office. He reached for
the phone on his desk. He had several calls to make.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
End of chapter
All my published works are archived and can be read or
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