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Giving The Interns A Helping Hand

123

"I've heard she is a total bitch."

It was only Tom's third day as an intern at Galaxy Rediffusion and already he was tiring of his 'buddy' Marcus. The two second year university students had been paired together as part of their induction into the summer scheme that would hopefully lead them to secure a place on the corporation's prestigious graduation scheme but they had nothing in common. Tom came from a working class background and had worked hard to get where he was, studying diligently and taking several part time jobs. Marcus clearly came from money and had the indolent attitude to go with it. Private school and tuition had paved his way into university without the need to expend too much mental energy.

They were also physically mismatched. Tom would have accepted, not all together happily, that he fitted the definition of a geek. At just 5' 6", he found himself literally looked down on by lots of his peers. He didn't have much time for sports or socialising and his thick glasses were testament to a life spent staring at either a book or a computer screen. Marcus, on the other hand, was big and blond and as overbearing physically as he was conversationally. His degree was probably in rowing.

"She is the youngest vice president in the company's history," offered Tom. "We could learn a lot from her."

"Like how to suck your way to the top? Yeah, perhaps you could learn a lot from her."

Tom was about to respond indignantly but was interrupted by the sight of two incredibly attractive woman walking through the lobby. He blushed as the woman on the left gave him a little wave and a smile. It was a smile that was both sweet and sharp. She turned to the stunning blonde next to her and said something which caused the pair of them to laugh.

Tom had been introduced to Svetlana, one of the company's relief agents, on Monday and he didn't mind admitting that it had been the most enjoyable part of the induction so far.

If you took a step back, the whole idea seemed a bit weird but the "Great 48" laws had been introduced over a decade ago now and were so clearly effective that everyone took them for granted. What started in one city in America had soon spread across the country as the benefits became clear. The idea was simple: since men spend so much time and energy trying to achieve sexual gratification, if the the state provided them with orgasms every 48 hours then this energy could be re-directed into more productive endeavours.

Like many workplace innovations, it had then migrated over to the UK. With the passing of the Growth & Economic Efficiency Act 2036, it became a legal requirement for all men to be masturbated by a third party at least every other day, either through a public relief station or privately. Along with the subsidised canteen and on-site gym, private relief was one of the perks available to all Galaxy Rediffusion staff, even interns.

Since his eighteenth birthday last year, Tom had received relief hundreds of times. As an undergraduate, he was registered with the University of London's relief station which was widely held to be one of the best non-private facilities. Because of its location and its client group of young men, the station had no problem attracting above average relief agents. In addition, and to the delight of male students, it was quite common for female students to earn a bit of extra money by volunteering for a few shifts. Tom thought fondly of the time he had turned up for relief to discover that his agent was Siân, the cute girl with the short black hair and the big black glasses who sat at the back of his physics class. She hadn't mentioned their connection, then or since, and neither had he but he often thought about their unexpected encounter.

So it was something he was used to. Yet despite being spoiled to an extent by the uni station, the company relief agents were on another level entirely. Galaxy Rediffusion must have been paying Svetlana and her colleagues a fortune to attract them.

As the pair left the lobby, presumably on their way out for lunch, Tom was surprised to see Marcus was blushing too. Perhaps they weren't so different after all.

"Hot little whores," Marcus muttered under his breath.

Okay, perhaps not.

"They aren't whores," said Tom spiritedly, "They are valuable and productive members of society who are doing their bit for the economy."

"Yeah, they are productive, all right. And what they produce is spunk."

Before the argument could progress any further, their attention was captured by an extremely attractive, extremely pissed off woman making a beeline for them.

* * * * *

Charlotte Granger was in a foul mood as she swept into the lobby of Galaxy Rediffusion. Her meeting this morning had been a total bust. She had been patronised and had her time wasted and now she had to babysit two wet behind the ears little work experience idiots. Shouldn't HR be handling this?

She quickly identified her two interns. The Harry Potter-looking kid had future accountant written all over him whereas the big blond slab of beef screamed lacklustre middle management potential. Christ.

"Come with me," she called over her shoulder as she strode past without stopping.

The two interns followed in her wake, arriving just as she slapped the lift call button. A lift sign illuminated to show it would be the next one available and they walked over to it. However, they then watched as the digital display flicked from the 9th floor to the 7th to the 8th.

"Bloody stupid thing," Charlotte muttered in frustration. "They've just updated the software, supposedly to make the lifts smarter. Ha! All they've managed to do is completely buggered them up."

A lift sign on the opposite side of the block suddenly illuminated. Shaking her head, Charlotte gestured at the pair with a blunt arm movement. "Right, inside."

As the lift began its journey up to the 15th floor, Charlotte felt slightly calmer. She took the opportunity to have a proper look at her two charges.

"Which one are you?" she asked the small one.

"Thomas Malone," he replied. The one with the impressive CV.

"So you are...?"

"Marcus Baron." The one who was related to one of the board members. Of course.

"I'm Charlotte Granger, vice president for special projects. I'm 38 and was promoted to this role two years ago, making me the youngest VP in the company's history. That means I'm bloody good and I've worked bloody hard. It also means I don't suffer fools gladly so try not to say anything idiotic.

"Let's start with the basics though: why do you want to work for Galaxy Rediffusion? Thomas?"

"Well, I suppose you should call me Tom," he said before launching into a long, sincere answer which Charlotte tuned out of halfway through.

Once he'd finished, Marcus opened his mouth to deliver what would inevitably be a box-ticking stock sentiment she'd heard hundreds of times. Before he could say anything, however, the lift juddered to a halt.

"Just fucking perfect," Charlotte said to herself as the lights flickered off.

Luckily they flickered back on again but the lift should no signs of resuming its upward journey. Charlotte jammed her hand against the alarm button. When there was no response, she started banging it. When this ceased to prove cathartic, she held up her wristphone.

"No signal. What about you two?"

Tom shook his head whilst Marcus said, "Nah."

"So we wait," she said, fuming.

After ten minutes of waiting, it was clear that the lift wasn't going to be moving on its accord.

"I'm sure they will have spotted that it is out of service by now," said Tom. "An engineer is probably on their way."

"They better be," Charlotte said through gritted teeth. She let out a sigh. "I suppose we might as well take our jackets off if we are in for the long haul."

Tom took off his first, looked around futilely for somewhere to hang it and instead held it awkwardly over his arm. Marcus's jacket looked like it had cost ten times that of Tom's. He dropped it on the floor.

Charlotte removed her jacket, feeling her fitted blouse pull tight against her breasts. She sighed. She had been so proud when her plump C-cups came in overnight as a teenage girl but they had become the bane of her professional life and were a nightmare for tailoring. Inevitably the eyes of both boys were drawn to them, although they'd obviously managed to learn some discretion in their young lives. Some more than others, she thought, as Marcus's hungry eyes lingered a fraction longer than his partner's.

"Okay, we are trapped here so I might as well make some use of the time," she said, "Let's get started with your induction."

Tom took out a notebook and pen while Marcus just loosened his tie and leaned against the wall as Charlotte started to run through her presentation. Despite hoping that the lift would move at any moment, it stayed resolutely still. Her presentation ran for well over an hour and that was before the interventions from Tom. She found she rather enjoyed his puppyish enthusiasm and obvious deference to her. Charlotte loved to be the alpha female. Perhaps there might be a space for him in her division if he made it onto the graduate scheme...

Marcus, on the other hand, had strong enough self-preservation instincts to ensure he seemed respectfully engaged but nothing more. And even that veneer started to slip as the wait continued. He was just like the men at the meeting earlier; no respect for her abilities, unable to see past her body.

Charlotte found that she was flagging as well. She'd been talking for a long time with no water and their trapped body heat had made the lift uncomfortable hot. She unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse and was not surprised to see Marcus's eyes flick to her breasts. Great, trapped in a metal box being gawped at by a teenager. Could this day get any worse?

Beep. Beep.

"What the fuck was that?" But Charlotte had a sinking feeling that she knew exactly what that was.

Tom looked at his smartwatch. "I'm due relief. Well, overdue. That's why it is beeping."

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Both of you?" she asked, appalled.

"Our induction timetable is synched, including relief," said Tom apologetically. "Company policy. We were meant to go to the station after this meeting."

"Okay, well, just shut it off and make a note of the circumstances on the log or whatever. That beeping is going to drive me mad if it keeps up."

"Er, there isn't anyway of shutting it, apart from confirming relief has occurred."

"So do that."

"Well, it hasn't, has it?" put in Marcus helpfully.

"I'm afraid Marcus is right, it has to have actually happened. It is a criminal offense to falsely verify relief."

"Fine," said Charlotte in disgust. "I'm going to turn around and put my hands over my ears. You guys do what you have to do."

"That's, um, that's not exactly how it works."

Before Tom could continue, Marcus barged in, "Come on, I don't know why you are playing dumb, Ms Granger. You are a woman of the world, right?"

Charlotte looked at the pair stony-faced.

"I think what Marcus is saying is that the legislation explicitly says it has to be a third party," said Tom trying to calm things down.

"Great. Well, since you are 'synched', how about you two take care of your mutual problem?"

"What the fuck?" spluttered Marcus. "I'm not touching his cock!"

Tom's response was more measured. "I'm afraid the law on this point is quite clear. Hetrosexual men can only be required to accept relief from another man if there is no physically capable woman available. And, er, you are a physically capable and available woman."

"I might be physically capable but I am certainly not available!" she spat, crossing her arms for emphasis.

Marcus was suddenly showing an active interest for the first time since entering the lift. His eyes were no longer just sneaking glances but blatantly mentally undressing her. Belatedly she realised that her current pose was thrusting a thick line of cleavage into his eyeline. She dropped her arms and shot daggers at him.

"Hey, believe me, we would love to be able to let you off the hook. But the rules are the rules," he said with astonishing insincerity.

Tom looked pained. "I'm afraid Marcus is right. Section 23.2 of the staff handbook clearly states that Galaxy Rediffusion expects all employees to abide by both the letter and the spirit of the GEE Act. In fact, subsection three says..."

"Who the fuck memorises the staff handbook?" interrupted Charlotte.

"This guy," said Marcus, pointing at Tom. A smug smile spread across his face. "Looks like her induction is about to get hands on," he said to Tom, his mask of professionalism and respect completely gone. Tom frowned back at him.

Charlotte could feel a look of absolute horror passing over her face. Tom was right: the company would demand this. Galaxy Rediffusion took corporate social responsibility very seriously. Turn her back on her duty now and she could kiss goodbye to future promotion. In fact, now that she thought of it, her job itself might be at stake. She had no choice.

"Okay, both of you, drop your trousers. Now."

"I don't want him looking at my cock!" barked Marcus.

"Why would I be looking at your cock?" Tom asked, incredulously.

Perhaps that had been a mistake, Charlotte thought. She'd just wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. However, there was something, well, slutty about touching two cocks at once. It would be much harder to maintain a detached, clinical persona dealing with both of them at once. And that's what this was, just a business transaction for the good of the company and the economy.

Charlotte huffed her cheeks, trying to bring some life back to a face that felt like a mask. Just a business transaction, just a business transaction...

"Fine. Marcus, you first."

* * * * *

Tom couldn't believe what was happening. The most gorgeous, intelligent woman he'd ever met had just given him a masterclass in business administration and now she was going to masturbate him in, well, not public, but semi-public.

She was obviously extremely unhappy about this turn of events. Tom sympathised but at the same felt his penis start to thicken with blood. Her face was like thunder but the fierce gleam in her eye and the determined set of her mouth was more than a little alluring.

Meanwhile, by his side, Marcus suddenly seemed a lot less smug. Tom had assumed he would be crowing - this was probably his ultimate misogynistic fantasy - but instead he looked slightly queasy.

Beep. Beep.

"Clock is ticking, Marcus. Hurry up or this will be on your record, not mine," said Charlotte aggressively.

"Make him face the wall," said Marcus nervously, not even looking at Tom.

Tom threw up in his arms at the ridiculous nature of the request but did as had been asked. Behind his back he heard Marcus lower his trousers.

"And the boxers. Christ, this is like pulling teeth. Are you waiting for a better offer?"

There was another rustle and then silence.

"Well, well, well," said Charlotte slowly, breaking the silence, "Turns out someone is all mouth and no trousers."

"Shut up!" Marcus's voice had actually cracked.

"Have you forgotten who you are talking to? I might have to touch your penis but you still work for this company and I'm still your superior and you will treat me as such. So, Mr Baron, I suggest it is you who shuts his mouth. Ha, there's that word again! I hope your mouth is better at eating pussy than it is treating a woman respectfully or you're never going to get laid. Not with that."

Tom couldn't believe what he was hearing. Clearly, neither could Marcus. "Shh!" he hissed. "Please!"

"You want me to stop talking? But I think you like it! Look how hard your little dick is. Oh wow, it is completely hidden by my hand."

Tom couldn't exactly decipher the sound Marcus made but it was clearly a mixture of embarrassment, humiliation and arousal.

"What happens if I do this? Oh my God, are you kidding me!?"

Charlotte's laugh reverberated around the lift but didn't quite drown out Marcus's moan of abject despair and sexual release.

"Well, I see that what you lack in size, you certainly don't make up for with stamina. The girls at the relief station must love you - talk about a cheap date!"

Tom turned his head over his shoulder in time to see Charlotte flicking her hand violently downwards. A thin stream of semen flew off her hand and splattered against the floor. She caught his eye and raised one perfectly sculpted brow. Charlotte's eyes gleamed with malice; the tables had well and truly turned.

"So, do you have a babydick too?" she asked, striding towards her new prey. Behind her, Marcus fumbled to pull up his trousers and then touched his finger to his phone.

Beep. Ping!

"One down, one to go! Well? Are you hung like an infant as well?"

"Not exactly," said Tom awkwardly.

"No, I guess that would be too much to ask. Like this lift ever fucking coming back to life," she added, glancing around their temporary prison. "Right, let's down to business, shall we?"

"Um, this is a bit weird," protested Tom.

"Is it? Oh, is it really?"

Beep. Beep.

"Don't want to keep the clock waiting," Charlotte tutted with almost manic glee. "Drop them right now or I will make sure you getting fined and blacklisted and generally totally fucked over."

"Okay, okay."

Tom looked her steadily in the eye as he undid his belt and dropped his trousers. His hands hesitated on the waistband of his boxers but he knew he had no choice.

"Holy shit!"

It was a response Tom had heard more than once. He wasn't a vain man or a conceited one but nor was he a naive one. He knew his penis was larger than average. A lot larger than average. How could he not when he had been exposing himself to women who saw dozens of penises every day since he was eighteen? The studied professionalism of relief agents soon cracked when confronted with something that was bigger soft than most men were hard.

So no, he wasn't a vain man but he relished the look on a woman's face when she saw his penis for the first time. The look of total shock on Siân's face had been particularly memorable. The delighted disbelief writ large on her cute features was filed right at the tip of his personal wank bank. But, reflected Tom, that golden memory was currently being eclipsed.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" Charlotte muttered in horror.

"Well, if you start by holding it in the middle and then..."

"It was a rhetorical question, idiot," she snapped back. Tom could tell her heart wasn't in the insult, however; her eyes were locked onto his penis and she seemed almost hypnotised.

Tentatively, she reached down and grasped it in the middle.

"You are probably going to need two hands," Tom put in helpfully.

"Yeah," she said, vacantly.

Rather than take his advice, she squeezed him gently with her hand. Tom was half-hard, at best, but he suspected it was still more dick than she'd ever dealt with. Slowly, ever so slowly, she began to move her hand up and down his shaft. It felt good but it was hardly the sort of approach that was going to generate the results they both needed.

"Charlotte?"

"Yeah?" Her voice was still subdued but she looked up now.

The pair were essentially the same height - well, Charlotte was probably an inch taller than him, Tom admitted to himself ruefully - so they were looking straight into each other's eyes.

"I don't think this is going to work. This position is kind of awkward for this sort of, er, length."

Charlotte blew a hot puff of air up at her fringe. "Yeah, I guess it is. You're the expert: what do you suggest?"

123
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