Hartthrob Enterprises By Montrose A humorous look at Nick's life as an editor of porn magazines Nick climbed 23 narrow steps and stopped. The stairway was narrow dark and tubular. It ended abruptly at a battered door with a smoked glass upper panel - the light at the end of the tunnel. The knob was old fashioned brass, as was the large keyhole. A phone rang once on the other side of the door. "Good morning! Hartthrob Enterprises. How may I help you?" said a polished woman's voice, also on the other side of the door. That confirmed the black lettering on the glass. "Sir, this is not an escort service. We are a publishing company.... No sir, we are not in the business of 'sucking crank,' as you put it. Although, we do have several excellent publications on the subject!" There was a moment of silence. "What?" she continued. "How was that done?... OH! You must want Angelina in accounting? Just one moment." Nick opened the door and stepped up into a small front office. There was a flourishing fiddle leafed fig plant over by the one narrow window to the room, blocking most of the sunlight. Traffic noise from the street below filtered in softly through the small opening at the top of the window. The room was neat and sparsely decorated. On his left were two waiting room chairs on either side of a table containing back issues of magazines published by this company. Some of them specialized in shoes - women's shoes - often with a man sucking on the heel. Others had more to do with men getting their heads squished between women's legs. Another was devoted to enormous breasts. Quite varied within a limited spectrum. Nick nodded. This was the place, all right. To his right was a long row of filing cabinets. The only other furniture in the room was an "L" shaped desk containing a flat screen monitor, a phone, and several stacks of paper Nick recognized as well-worn manuscripts. Behind this desk sat a pretty blonde woman of approximately 30 years of age. She wore a stiff collar, buttoned up to her chin. Her figure and hands were refined and delicate. Despite this, she moved in a no-nonsense manner as she slipped a rubber band around one stack of paper and pulled another closer to her monitor. She was all business. Half way up her nose sat a small pair of delicate wire frame glasses. "Good morning!" she said to Nick in just the same polished voice he had heard from the stairs. Her soft blue eyes looked over her spectacles at him. "Welcome to Hartthrob Enterprises. How may I help you?" Her smile was perfect and blinding white. "My name is Nick Hollow," Nick said. "I've come about the editing job. I have an interview." The woman stood and extended a hand. "Please to meet you, Nick," she said. "I'm Louis Tripp, the receptionist. I received your resume and passed it on to the boss. I like how you write." Nick was stunned into silence by the sight of Louis standing. She was wearing a tight, navy skirt below her tailored white blouse. The skirt displayed a very nicely turned rump, but in a prudish manner, if that was possible. Something from the erotic 1940s collection. She also stood head and shoulders taller than Nick. He automatically looked down at her feet. Three inch spike heels - navy to match the skirt. That still meant she stood six feet tall when barefoot. Nick stood five ten. He gulped and extended his hand to shake. Just as Louis clasped his hand (hers was a warm, firm grip - long fingers) a side door burst open. "Louis!" yelled a thick-set man with a cigar stuck in his mouth. "I need anal sex!" Louis smiled at Nick. "Excuse me, wont you?" She let go of Nick's hand and strode over to a filling cabinet. "Non-fiction, fiction or poetry?" she asked. "Fiction," the man said. He nodded a short hello to Nick but didn't linger on him. "How many words?" asked Louis as she moved over one cabinet and bent to open the third drawer down. She kept her knees straight, presenting the two men with a very pleasing view of her backside. The seams on the back of her stockings were flawlessly aligned with her well-built calf muscles. "Around fifteen hundred. No more," said the man angling over for a better look at Louis's legs. "Historical... contemporary... fantasy..." Louis listed out as she ran her fingers down a row of files in the drawer. "Fantasy, I think," said the man. Louis looked over her shoulder at him as he stared at her calves. "Don't you know what kind of anal sex you want, silly man?" The man chuckled. "Very funny. Make it science fiction if we got it." "I can give you a thirteen hundred word story with anal sex set in a fairy world with flying dragons..." suggested Louis as she lifted one folder. She looked at it through her small lenses. "Could we switch it around?" asked the man. "Make the dragons into starships or something?" Louis flipped through the manuscript. "I don't think so," she said. "The dragons are what they have anal sex with." "Bestial. That's out. I'm looking for something with a woman's touch. Girl on boy, you know." "Yes, I know," murmured Louis. Nick got the impression, from the way Miss Tripp looked the man up and down, that she knew very well. "I have a science fiction story here containing... EXTREME anal sex with women in the leading role, but it's also just over six thousand words," She lifted a somewhat thicker manuscript from a folder and stood upright. The men looked away pretending that they had not been staring at her ass and legs. Miss Tripp pretended to not know that they had. "Herb again?" asked the man, tugging at his collar. Louis nodded. "Uh-huh. I'm sure I could get him to cut it to fifteen hundred words in a day or two. We haven't published anything from him in a year." "But keep the essential elements, right?" the man jabbed his cigar at Louis. "Anal sex between humanoids, women dominant, hold the mayo," Louis nodded. "You don't need to draw me a picture." She took the manuscript back to her desk. The tall heels made her wiggle seductively as she walked. "You're a peach, Louis. I owe you one." Louis fanned the manuscript at the retreating man's cigar smoke. "You owe me hundreds by now, Jake. Get that stinking cigar out of here." Jake winked and closed the door. Jake? Nick stepped forward. "Was that Jake Hart? The publisher?" "The guy you have an interview with?" asked Louis, finishing Nick's thought. "One and the same. She looked at a jeweled watch on her slim wrist. Both the watch and the wrist looked expensive. "You are early. Take a seat. Jake will be with you at 9:30." "Thank you." Nick sat and wondered which magazine he could flip through without offending Louis or making her think less of him. He was quite interested in the dominatrix covers, especially the smother issue... but he opted to examine the plant instead. If he got the job he could look over the stock in private as much as he wanted. Louis picked up the phone and dialed. "Herb?" she said. "Good morning! This is Miss Tripp from Hartthrob Enterprises! I've got some great news! We want to publish AMAZON PIRATES FROM EROGENOUS ZONE FIVE!" She read the title on the manuscript and then rolled her big blue eyes at Nick. "But we need a few edits.... Well... you see... it's a bit long for our needs." Louis looked up and winked at Nick. Nick smiled. He was beginning to like Louis - and not just her body, which was hard to overlook when you liked tall women. "All we need is fifteen hundred words," Louis continued. She pulled the phone away from her ear. Nick could hear Herb yelling from where he sat. Louis rolled her eyes again and kept the phone from her ear until it quieted down. "Herb? Herb? You want it published? Then you need to cut it!" Louis flipped through the manuscript. "There are plenty of places. For example, the entire second mass rape scene can be cut - you've already established the Amazon's dominance over their captives in other scenes!" "What?" Nick heard Herb yell. "Now Herb..." Herb yelled some more. "Herb, there is no call to use that tone of..." Herb yelled some more. Louis held the phone away from her ear. Nick could see she was loosing her patience. She snapped the phone back to her ear and raised her voice to a snarl. "Herb? You remember the scene where the Amazon Queen confronts the space captain for the last time and almost kills him? You want me to come down there and do that too you, pal?" She sat back. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes grew round. "You do?" Louis listened to Herb. "All of it?... Even the... uh-huh... Yes, I thought that was some of your best work, Herb. Well, I'm... flattered..." Miss Tripp fanned herself with the manuscript. "Yes, that part may be physically impossible, but it will be fun to try." Louis giggled, then she looked at Nick. Her cheeks grew redder. She swiveled her chair so she wasn't facing him. "All right then!" she half whispered into the phone. "But only if you have the short version of the story in my hands by close of business tomorrow. If you're a minute late, you get none of it! Nothing! No published story! No play time! You got that?" She turned straight to her desk again with a confident smile on her face. "Very well, Herb. Yes, you beg for forgiveness very sweetly. I'm glad we could reach an amicable agreement. I'll see you tomorrow." She slammed the phone onto the cradle with a clang. She fussed with her hair a bit, which was tucked into a neat bun, requiring no fixing. As her arms raised, her blouse rubbed taught across her chest. Nick noticed the points of her nipples making a bold statement in the silky fabric. He also saw her bicep flex and bulge, stressing fabric, as she moved her fingers in her hair. He wished he had such tone. Louis Tripp ran a long finger just under a red lip as if checking for drool. All this time she didn't make direct eye contact with Nick. But she looked pleased with herself. Nick picked up a magazine to help her feel less like he was watching her. He realized he was now looking at a two page spread of a woman sitting on a man's face. He felt it would look even more conspicuous to drop the magazine, so he slowly flipped the page. Now the lady on the man's face was squeezing his nuts like she was making juice for breakfast. "Well!" Louis said a bit loudly. Nick jumped and dropped the magazine. "It looks like I have a date tomorrow night." She casually flipped through the manuscript. She ran her fingers along a few lines and made some notes on a scrap of paper. "And it looks like I have some shopping to do, to get ready." Louis pulled a clutch purse from a desk drawer and stood, towering over Nick. She waived her long fingers at the desk. "Just let the phone ring. If anyone asks, tell them I'll be back by 11:00." She wiggled to the door and stepped out. Nick listened to Louis's heels clomp down the wooden steps. He closed his eyes and imagined how she was moving as she descended the stairs. It was a Hart-warming vision. "Are you my 9:30?" Jake had his head out of the other door again. Nick jumped, then stood. "Yes, sir. Nick Hollow. Louis... Miss Tripp... just stepped out." Jake nodded. "Follow me." Nick walked through a cramped back office that looked like it should take out extra fire insurance. Boxes of back issues lined the walls and walkways. Five desks were scattered in the room. At three of them, two women and one man hunched over manuscripts making notations. At a fourth desk a woman was typing edits into a computer. The fifth desk was empty. None of them looked up as Jake and Nick walked past. One of the girls looked flushed despite the room being cool, but she didn't look up. The room had a physical smell mixed with old paper dust. It smelled like a locker room, a library, and a bedroom combined. Jake Hart, of Hartthrob Enterprises, guided Nick into a back office. It was as packed with boxes as the editing room, maybe more so. It was small and stank of cigars. "Sit!" Jake commanded as he took the seat behind the desk. Nick looked around. There was no other chair. Jake gestured to a short stack of boxes. Nick gently sat on one of them. "So you wanna edit porn!" Jake said it like he was discussing becoming a mechanic or doctor. "What draws you to the profession, Nicolas?" "Nick," Nick said automatically. "Just Nick." "Just nick what?" Jake said quickly and leaned forward. Then he laughed like a bull dog barking in his sleep. Nick sat confused but forced out a chuckle. "But seriously. Are you a pervert, Nicky?" "NO!" Nick almost stood. "I mean... no sir." "Why not?" "Pardon?" "Why don't you consider yourself a pervert?" Jake asked. "Is it because you only think pure thoughts? Or is it because you don't see your brand of sex as perverted? Or do you proclaim that pervert is as pervert does - it's all in the way you think? Open up to me, Nick. I want to know what kind of man is pressing his butt into my merchandise!" Nick stood. "I enjoy writing, and editing." Nick began. "Do you like sex?" "Well, of course..." "What kinds?" Nick lost his voice. He stood trembling as Jake looked him up and down, puffing on his cigar. Finally, Jake shrugged and sighed. "I appreciate you coming up here, son. But I don't think this is the right environment..." "No! Wait!" Nick yelled. "I like big women. Not fat ones, but big, tall, strong women. Women that can wrestle me down and sit on me, and make me do things." It all spilled out at once. Nick needed this job. If he didn't have proof of employment soon, his landlady would chuck him out. Also, every word was true. Unspoken, ever before to anyone in his life, but true. "That's more like," said Jake. "Would it offend you if a woman made you lick her asshole?" "No." Nick blushed. "You'd like that, wouldn't ya?" Jake asked. Nick nodded. "Sure you would! Wouldn't mind some of that myself! How about if a man banged your ass? You like that sort of thing?" "No," Nick backed up. "Just asking," said Jake holding up his hands. "Do you feel men like that deserve respect?" "Of course," Nick said with confidence. "How about if a woman strapped one on and bent you over. Would she demand your respect?" Nick gulped. He felt himself getting a boner at the idea. "Obviously," he mumbled. Jake nodded. "Have I upset you with anything I've said? Could you work in a place were this sort of thing is reported on and sometimes even practiced during work hours?" Nick wondered how much he would have to pay to work there. "I wouldn't mind," he said. Jake stood and held out a hand. "Welcome to Hartthrob Enterprises, Nick. See you at 8:00 AM sharp tomorrow!" The next morning, Nick showed up at 7:55 with a brown-bag lunch in hand. Then he waited on the top step until 8:37, when Louis showed up to unlock the place. She carried a larger paper bag. Space on the stairs was cramped. For Louis to get past Nick to unlock, she had to squeeze by, necessarily pressing her chest into his chin (maybe not as much as she chose to). Her knee caressing his groin. Her hand running down his arm. "Pardon me," she whispered as she paused half way past. Her big blue eyes looked down into his brown eyes, daring him to say anything. Nick almost fainted. Before she moved on to the door she asked, "What's in the bag, Nick?" "Uh..." Nick could only think of his nut sack and his quickly expanding crank, which was slithering up Louis's silky leg. She must feel that, he realized. Her eyes gave no clue. Nick couldn't remember what he had packed for lunch an hour ago. "Uh... lunch," Nick gulped. He looked at her bag. "What's in yours?" "Just... some things." Louis patted her neat hair and moved on to the door. As she unblocked (being down a couple of steps, Nick's face was even with her butt) Nick looked down into her bag (to keep from stuffing his face up Louis's rump). The bag contained a short, single strap leopard print dress, some long strips of black leather, a black wig, an eye patch, a ball gag and a giant plastic cock attached to some kind of harness. For the Amazon Pirate love scene? Nick wondered. Nick both pitied and envied Herb. It was 9:00 before Jake and the editors showed up. ("Did I say 8:00?" Jake asked. "I meant 9:00.") While waiting for the others, Louis fixed her face in a hand-held mirror and asked Nick to go make coffee. He complied, though he had trouble finding everything. During the morning, Louis gave Nick his orientation ("Here's the boys room. There's the coat rack. You already know about the break room and coffee machine.") without even hinting at their intimate moment on the steps. She was all business once more. She ended by circling back to the editing room - the room with the five desks and four people. "And this is where you will work," she said, leading Nick to the empty desk. "Jake or I will give you assignments periodically. You, dear boy," she patted him on the top of his head, "will meet deadlines. If you have questions about editing within this company, I'm sure Donna will be happy to help. She's our best copy editor." Louis patted the head of the woman that had seemed flushed the day, before. Donna's cheeks grew pink again. She smile up at Louis. Louis wiggled back to reception. Everyone watched her leave, including the three women. After she closed the door one of the women said, "I wish I could get my ass to move like that." "I don't think my ass is even attached like that," said another woman. "It isn't," said the one man. The three woman hit him in the face with wads of paper in unison. No one seemed mad. It appeared to be more ritual than anything. Nick looked to Donna for explanation, since hers was the only name he knew. "Welcome to the Bottom Feeders Club, Nick," Donna said. She stood to shake hands. Amazons! Nick thought. This one is taller than me too! Donna stood five eleven with a sturdier build than Louis. Still pleasant to look at, but broad of shoulder and hips. "Why bottom feeders?" Nick asked as they shook (a harder grip than Louis had). "Editing someone else's work is like licking someone else butt. I never met an editor yet that didn't like to lick butt - bottom feed," one of the other woman replied. "Including all of us. Don't try to pretend you don't." Nick blushed. The women laughed. "Nick, meet Janice and Amy," said Donna. "The twit over there is named Bruce." "Thank god there's another pud in the house," said Bruce. "These women have worn mine down to a nub, Nick. Best be careful." "You were born with a nub!" Amy replied. More paper wads flew in both directions. "So... what should I do now?" Nick asked. "Take this," Janice replied as she stuffed a bundle of paper into his gut. Janice was five ten - same height as Nick - and pleasingly plump. Very nice rack and full lips. "I'm sick of looking at Montrose's crap." "So you're the one Jake gave Monty reading to this week!" Amy laughed. "I was afraid it was my turn!" "It should be next week," said Bruce. "I had to slug through it last week." Nick flipped through a few pages. "What's so bad about Montrose?" "Where do I start?" said Donna. "Grammar? Spelling? Plot? Characterizations? Violence?" she shook her head. "No, the real problem with Monty is volume." "That's right," said Amy. "He keeps churning the stuff out. I don't know why Jake keeps making us read it. It's like he has Jake's mother held captive and wont let her free until we publish one of his ass-rape stories!" "And we would," said Donna. "We publish someone's ass-rape story every month. But we do have our standards!" A chorus of general agreement erupted and subsided. Everyone bent to their piles of paper. There was work to do. Nick sighed and settled in to his desk with his pile of Montrose stories. It was grim work. After a few hours he looked up to see Donna flushed red. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead. She fanned herself with a few sheets of paper as she made furious notes. She was panting. Nick looked around. The room felt fairly cool. It wasn't stuffy. Donna made some more furious notes and then sat back. "foooo" she panted. "I'm good." "LET ME READ IT!" Amy and Janice and Bruce chorused at once. Donna pushed the edited manuscript to the edge of the desk. Amy and Janice took front and center. Bruce had to settle for reading from off to the side (he was too short to see over them). The trio grew flushed. They began to pant. They turned a page. "Jesus," Amy gasped. They turned another page. "That's what I'm talking about," Janice sighed. They turned another page. "I've got five bucks for any of you that does that to me right now," Bruce said. Janice pushed him down. "In your dreams." "True enough," Bruce sighed, got up and walked back to his desk. He raised his water bottle. "To Donna," he toasted her. "To Donna!" Amy and Janice raised their water bottles. Donna smiled like a masterpiece. Nick suddenly realized how much she resembled the Mona Lisa. She nodded, accepting their salute. They drank. Bruce drained his plastic bottle and threw it against a stack of boxes as if it were a fireplace receiving a champaign glass. It made a hollow thoonk sound and clattered to the floor. The editors sighed and bent back to their work. "May I have a look?" Nick asked. Donna held up the manuscript. Nick got up and walked over to Donna's desk. "Have fun," she winked at him. Nick began reading. It had everything. Pathos. Drama. Character development. But mostly, it had a glorious scissors scene wherein two young ladies absolutely annihilate a wicked man. Half way through reading this scene, Nick had to sit down. He chose Donna's desk. When he was done, Nick was panting. His boner prominently tented the front of his pants. He could see that it was Donna's edits that turned a fair story into this masterful work of humiliation and domination. Nick respectfully set the manuscript back onto the desk. He slid to his knees at Donna's feet. He placed his forehead to the floor between her heels. "I am not worthy!" he intoned. Donna laughed. "You're gonna fit in here just fine, Nick." She grabbed a handful of his hair and lifted his head up to her groin. She smiled mischievously into his eyes. "Just fine." She was wearing a black mid-thigh skirt that showed off powerful thighs. From his vantage point, Nick could see she was wearing green panties under. Her muff bulged threateningly. Nick's mouth watered. Jake barged out of his office on the way to the boy's room. "Save the oral sex for your lunch hour!" he snapped. Everyone got back to work. At five Nick stepped into the front office, ready to leave. Miss Tripp was standing and accepting an envelope from a tall, good-looking man of approximately fifty years of age. Without looking at it, she handed it to Nick. "Edit this, Nick. I need to fulfill a contract." She stepped out from behind her desk, her paper bag in hand - the one full of sexy clothes and toys. Nick watched her walk to the door, arm-in-arm with the lucky man. She stopped and turned. "Have it edited and on my desk first thing tomorrow morning, Nick. Don't leave until you are done." "Yes, Miss," Nick promised. "Good boy," she replied. They left. Boy? Nick guessed he was five years older than Louis Tripp. But he also knew she could call him anything she wanted. He looked at the envelope in his hands. It said, "AMAZON PIRATES FROM EROGENOUS ZONE FIVE - short version." Nick sighed and headed back to his desk. "Where you going? Forget something?" Amy asked. She and all the other editors were leaving for the day. Nick waived the envelope. "Last minute rush job. Gotta do it tonight." "Tough break," said Donna. "If you get done before seven, you can find us at the Bent Staff." Nick nodded. That was the bar just down the street. It was just him and Jake in the office now. Jake was on the phone to a model for a shoot. His voice echoed in the suite now that nobody but the two of them were there. "How much do you weigh again?" Nick heard Jake say into the phone in his office. "How big is your ass?... And you can safely smother a man? I want him out cold, but not dead, you understand.... Yeah, I hate those fake shots too - where the guy is just pretending to be knocked out - you can always tell." Nick blocked it out and got to work. The story was actually quite good. Probably better than the original with all the fluff pulled out. He pictured Miss Tripp doing all the things in the story to the tall man he had seen in the lobby - Herb, no doubt. Lucky bastard! Herb was in for it, though. Nick couldn't' help but yank at his crotch as he read about the Amazon almost killing the space captain with rough anal sex. She fucked the secret code out of him and used it to blow up all the Federated space ships. The Amazons won - evil triumphed. Not that the story didn't need work! By the time Nick looked at his watch (with come running down his boxers) it was 9:30. He had missed happy hour. Jake was on the phone to another model now. Apparently he made all his model calls at night. There was probably a reason for that. Nick left, placing the edited manuscript on Louis Tripp's desk. The next morning, Nick arrived at 8:45. Louis was fanning herself with the manuscript. She stood and wiggled over to Nick. She grabbed his lapel and pulled him up close. She looked down at him over her glasses. "Did you follow me last night? Were you spying?" "Of course not Miss!" Nick protested. "I would never!" "Because if you did..." Louis Tripp raised a knee expertly up into Nick's privates. Nick tried to fold up, but Louis held him up by his shirt with one hand. Then she kissed him hard on the lips. She bit his bottom lip as she pulled away. "This!" she slapped him in the face with the manuscript. "Is a work of genius! I've got to go change my panties after reading it." She whispered in his ear. "I'll let you keep the wet ones I have on as a reward." It was then that they saw Donna standing in the doorway. "This boy is hot," Miss Tripp told her. "Even you could learn something from him. Read this!" She slapped Donna in the face with the manuscript. Donna read it. She had to sit down. She grew flushed. She panted. Then she jumped at Nick, pinning him to a wall. She punched him in the gut. Nick tried to fight back, but she overpowered him. Donna was a wall of muscle and furious energy! Then she kissed him. "You fucking bastard!" she snarled. She kissed him again. Then she slapped him so hard it felt like she knocked a tooth free. Nick fell to his knees. Donna raised a fist to smash Nick in the nose. Miss Louis Tripp caught Donna's arm and turned her. Still wearing heels and a tight skirt, she stooped, picked the hefty Donna up with one arm between her legs and one around her neck and then slammed her onto the desk. She sat side saddle on Donna's chest. "Jealous are we, my little dumpling?" asked Miss Tripp as she squeezed Donna's face in her long fingers. Nick cowered in the corner. It was like watching King Kong and Godzilla fight, only they're both really well built, he thought. "Please Miss Tripp," Donna begged. Miss Tripp slapped her. "You know my affections are only for the best. If you want to keep them, you will have to be better than our new boy, here." She waved a delicate hand at Nick. "Yes, Miss Trip! I will! I will be better!" Miss Tripp stood. "You've got your work cut out for you if this is a fair example." Miss Tripp tapped the manuscript. Once in the editing room, Donna pulled Nick behind a stack of boxes. She twisted his arm, got him in a headlock and forced him to the floor. Nick fought to no avail. Donna sat on him, pushing her muff into his face - cutting off his air with her pussy. "From now on," she said. "When you have a great piece of work, you will give it to me. Understand?" Nick struggled. But he was running low on air. "Understand?" Nick nodded as much as he could. He was almost ready to pass out. Donna stood and walked to her desk. Nick slowly found his feet. He had to lean on the stacks of boxes to make it to his desk. Miss Tripp wiggled in and wordlessly dropped a wet pair of black panties on Nick's desk. She wiggled back out. Donna cleared her throat. She was holding out a hand. Nick raised the panties up to smell them. He knew he had to give them to Donna, but he wanted one sniff first. "Don't you dare," she snarled. He didn't dare. He walked over and placed them in her hand. She dismissed him. Nick returned to his desk and watched Donna smelling Louis Tripp's wet panties. She hurriedly stuffed them into a drawer when the other editors arrived. The venire of camaraderie prevailed. Weeks passed. Nick soon discovered that every week was Nick's week to edit the Montrose pile. Donna saw to it and no one else objected. There was no way to make a masterpiece out of that tripe. Louis expressed disappointment in his progress, all the while heaping praise on Donna, who was proving to be the best, over the long run. One day, Nick found a manuscript on his desk involving a man getting attacked by three impish girl fairies in the woods. He is a dirt bag - destroying nature with careless habits and over consumption. A magnificently tall, powerful and beautiful tree sprite joins the fairies, and together they overpower the bastard. There are some very imaginative scenes of scissors and suffocation torture. In another scene the tree sprite crushes the man into her tree with a bear hug, breaking his ribs. Finally something better than a Montrose effort! Nick went right to work on it. He was panting and flushed after two hours of work. "A-hem." He looked up. Donna was looking at him. She tapped her finger on her desk. Nick pretended to not know that she meant for him to turn over the manuscript that he was working on. She could see it was getting him hot. Donna stood. She slowly strode over to Nick's desk. He sheepishly offered her the papers. "It's too late for that," Donna snarled. "You need to obey me instantly!" "What's going on?" Bruce asked. "Mind your own business!" Donna snapped. Bruce dropped his head to his work. Perhaps he had experienced Donna wrath before, Nick imagined. Donna took Nick by the arm and lifted him from his seat. He could tell that he would have bruises where her fingers were. She hauled him to a space behind some boxes. "Lay down," she snapped. Nick complied. Donna sat on his chest. Then she punched him in the face. "OOF!" he grunted. His arms were pinned under her sturdy legs. "Shut up." Donna punched him again. This time Nick managed to not cry out in pain. By the fifth punch, he was too woozy to cry out. Donna turned around. "Okay, bottom feeder, this must be your lucky day." She settled her big ass onto Nick's face. He was feeding on her big bottom now. Nick struggled. Donna punched him in the stomach. Within seconds, he was out of air. When Nick came to, he was still behind the boxes, but alone. "This is magnificent work, Donna!" He heard Louis Tripp's polished voice praising Donna. "Your best yet!" Nick pulled himself to his feet. He saw Louis sitting on Donna's desk reading the Fairy manuscript he had edited. Louis looked at him. "What is wrong with you, boy? Have you been sniffing glue? You look like hell!" Nick's head was throbbing and the room was still spinning. Louis turned back to Donna. "We should celebrate this one, girlfriend. Why don't you come up to my place tonight. Say 9:00?" "I would be delighted, Miss Tripp!" Donna was bouncing in her chair. Miss Tripp smiled. "Of course you are. See you then." She bent down and gave Donna a tender kiss on the cheek. She rose and wiggled toward the front office. "But..." Nick began. Donna leaned back and punched Nick square between the eyes. He fell over, out cold. The next day, Louis wanted to fire Nick, but Donna talked her out of it. Donna explained it to Nick. "Louis likes the kind of power I can put into... the little games we play. She told me she's never had better. So, to keep me happy, she is letting me keep you as a pet. So now... your ass is mine... literally." So, while Donna hadn't been Nick's first choice, what else could he expect? He was a bottom feeder's bottom feeder. It was a living. It kept his landlady satisfied. And since Donna expected him to feed her at least one good edited manuscript per week, he never had to look at another Montrose story for as long as he lived.