I’m working for Mr. Stern this summer. He’s the best boss ever and this job is easier than I ever thought possible. I just need to show up every Saturday, do a few simple tasks around the office, and keep my phone on during the week in case he needs me. 
The pay? Crazy good! I know everyone says you can’t pay off college with a summer job, but if Mr. Stern keeps me on after I start this fall, I’m going to pay everything, no problem.
Sure, the whole situation is a little weird. 
I don’t really remember how I found the job. Or when exactly I started.
Or why Mr. Stern wanted me so bad.
No need to think about that, baby girl.
I shiver. I keep having thoughts like that. Though that makes my mind numb and my privates tingly.
My privates have been tingly a lot since I got this job. I try not to think about it.
Try not to think.
Good girls don’t think about touching themselves. They don’t imagine lips and fingers teasing them until they’re begging for more. It’s wrong. My dad taught me that. Have to follow the rules.
So why are my fingers teasing my waistband?
I yank my hand out of my pants and try to focus. I’m only allowed to be in the office on Saturdays for some reason and I need to get this stuff done. I don’t want to disappoint Mr. Stern. He’s been nothing but a kind, amazing, confident, sexy boss.
Sexy?
I’m not supposed to think that about my boss! He’s so much older than me. So much more experienced. He wouldn’t want a virginal girl like me.
Ugh! Why am I thinking about something I can’t have? I need to work.
Mr. Stern expects the office to be perfect when he gets in on Mondays. He leaves me notes and messages telling me so. Some Saturdays I just sit and listen to his voice for more than an hour. Those Saturdays just float by. Today Mr. Stern only left me a note. I have to get all of my work done by 3:30 and be out of the office. I don’t know why he wants me gone, but I need to do what Mr. Stern says.
Following orders feels good.
I have a lot to do, but I manage to finish up on time and get out of there. It’s only as I’ve driven almost all the way home that I realize I left my phone at work. That’s bad.
I’m not sure what to do. Mr. Stern wants me to be available by phone all the time, but he told me to finish up by 3:30.
It only takes me a minute to decide to turn around. I did finish my work like Mr. Stern asked. It will only take a minute to get my phone.
I’m surprised that one of Mr. Stern’s cars is in the lot when I get back. He’s so rich that he has more than one. This is one of the fancy sports cars. I don’t know what kind. I don’t care about cars.
I’ll just sneak inside really quick and hopefully Mr. Stern won’t see me. 
Everything is going alright. I find my phone after crawling under my desk for a minute when I hear a door creak open. I glance up, expecting to see Mr. Stern. 
It’s not him.
It’s some… some… bimbo.
She’s tall and blonde and pregnant and she’s got the biggest boobs I’ve ever seen. She’s obscenely gorgeous. Just the kind of girl my dad warned me about. No matter what, he said, I can’t be weak and turn out like her.
That’s why I can’t have a boyfriend. That’s why I can’t touch myself. I’m weak and I’ll become an airheaded little slut if I ever give in.
Does she know Mr. Stern? Why is she here? Is she some sort of prostitute that he hired? Does he like pregnant ditzes? 
I keep my head down. For some reason I’m scared that she might see me, that she might tell Mr. Stern I’m here. It’s completely irrational. What’s the worst some ditzy bimbo could do to me? Giggle?
Stupid girls don’t have to worry.
What are these thoughts that keep flitting through my head? I’m not stupid. I’m not some horny bimbo slut. I’m just an eighteen year old trying to make a bit of cash before college.
I crawl to the next desk and see the door. I’m not sure where the bimbo or Mr. Stern are. Given how pregnant she is, I’d definitely hear her if she got close. 
Or so I think. 
I’m ready to make a break for the door when suddenly tits and the bimbo they belong to are in front of my face. “Boo!” she says, giggling wildly. Her shirt is so thin it's basically see through. And is she lactating?
Holy moly.
“Excuse me,” I say to her, hoping she’ll let me go.
Instead she just giggles again and calls out, “Master! There’s some girl here!” She reaches into her shirt and comes back with a thick white substance. She sticks her fingers right in front of my face and into my mouth.
But before I even register what’s going on, I’m wondering who she’s talking about. Master?
Then my brain kind of breaks and I pass out.