Help Wanted Read online

  HELP WANTED

  Fantasy Heights Series: Book 1

  by Meg Silver

  KINDLE EDITION

  Copyright 2011, Meg Silver, et al.

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  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

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  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes without penalty, provided the book remains in its complete original form, and proper attribution is given.

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  Author’s Foreword

  Help Wanted is the ‘pilot episode,’ if you will, of the Fantasy Heights Series. From the very beginning, it has been a free ebook. If you paid for this standalone file, please let Amazon know this title is available for free elsewhere, and ask for a refund, with my compliments.

  Note: Help Wanted and The New Girl (ASIN B006L8KDWU) is a separate edition; a complimentary copy of Help Wanted was included in The New Girl (book 2) file. The bundled edition is not free. Sorry for any confusion.

  For all the latest Fantasy Heights news and updates, please visit my site: http://megsilver.com

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  HELP WANTED

  Fantasy Heights Series, Book 1

  “What’s Fantasy Heights?”

  Amanda held up a glossy postcard to show the antique-shop owner which one she’d been reading. The front of the card had a wispy, vaguely Victorian Fantasy Heights banner in red and gold wrapped around a voluptuous woman’s silhouette. Sexy, but elegant at the same time. On the back, written in neat handwriting, was ‘Help Wanted: Now hiring support staff.’

  The shop owner, a forty-something woman with pretty, gentle features and lovely green eyes looked up abruptly from the magazine she’d been reading, as if Amanda had asked where she might find a sawed-off shotgun and ski mask.

  Her eyes scanned Amanda from dark widow’s peak down to red toenails and designer sandals, then rose once more to linger around breasts and hips. Assessing. Judging. Maybe even imagining.

  In a voice that was eight parts polite and two parts ice water, the shopkeeper explained. “Fantasy Heights is a specialty resort. Very exclusive. Not your cup of tea, I’m sure.”

  “Relax. I’m not a cop or anything. I’m just curious, is all. I need a job as far away from home as possible.”

  “What’s the matter? Daddy take away your trust fund?”

  Offended by the woman’s assumption, she wielded the truth like a slap. “No. I got jilted two weeks ago and my ex-fiancé is about to marry my barely legal stepsister. It was such a scandal back home that the bank I was managing fired me the morning after.”

  Most people hearing the tale grimaced or said ‘oh my God’ or something. The shopkeeper, however, would have made a good judge with her mask of aloof disinterest. “That’s a very sad story. If it’s true, I feel very sorry for you.”

  “No need. I feel sorry enough for myself, thanks. Now could you please tell me where I might get in touch with these Fantasy Heights people? There’s no number or address on the card.”

  The shopkeeper straightened on the high stool behind the counter. She now wore an owlish, uncertain expression, still undecided.

  What was this woman’s problem? “Look, I’m picking up the protective vibe loud and clear, all right? And I’m not some naive city girl. The postcard paints a pretty good picture of what the place is all about. I presume they need support staff to fulfill their guests’ sexual fantasies. If the money’s halfway decent and they screen their clientele well enough, I’d be extremely interested.”

  The ice broke with a dismissive shrug. “Fine, then. But if you’re serious about this, you’d better move fast. They’ve got a long waiting list for interviews, and those openings don’t usually last more than a day at most. How about you step in back with me, and I’ll give the owner a call. I’m sure she’d be interested in meeting you.”

  A small twitter of excited triumph was chased away by a zap of alarm. If she went through with this and auditioned for this Fantasy Heights job, it would be the single most impulsive thing she’d ever done. But she was never impulsive. Never especially adventurous. Certainly never brave enough to pursue her own fantasies.

  The jilting had changed her, however. The old Amanda would have walked away from the postcard without a second thought. This Amanda craved some sexual experimentation. At age twenty-eight, she’d only had two partners before Darren, her ex-fiancé, and no one since. He hadn’t been very adventurous or imaginative. Amanda would have liked to try a lot more. A lot more. The rush of sexual excitement was one of the purest, most amazing of all, in her opinion, and even an ambiguous imagining of fulfilling other people’s wants set a slow, scalding ache alight in her nipples and between her thighs.

  It felt good. Exactly what she needed to undo the damage her ex-fiancé had done, to feel desirable and powerful again, and do something a hell of a lot more exciting than become just another corporate automaton.

  Amanda didn’t allow herself to hesitate another second. She slipped through the door the owner held open, and found herself under examination once more.

  “Not too tall,” the older woman observed, speaking of Amanda’s height. “Not too thin, either. Nice breasts, and I like the sundress. They prefer feminine, well-spoken types like you, and uninhibited. I suppose I should warn you to be ready for anything if Ms. Watson agrees to an interview.”

  “Ms. Watson?”

  “The owner, Stephanie Watson. She’s good people, if a little strict. Can’t blame her, really. Just through here, please. I’ll make the call from my office.”

  The owner waved her into a chair and picked up the desk-phone’s receiver and made the call. It didn’t take long, just a few quiet words before she smiled and said goodbye.

  To Amanda, she said, “She’ll see you whenever you can get there. The place is just a mile outside town.”

  Amanda took down the directions and headed back out to the rental car with nearly everything she owned stashed in the trunk. She’d wanted to take this vacation to just disappear for a week. If this job panned out, she’d stay much longer than that.

  Fantasy Heights Spa had a security gate. She had to state her name at a kiosk and was only allowed through once she’d shown the attendant a photo ID. So far, so good, she thought. Decent security, and what a beautiful place. The woods were dense, the grounds well kept, and the lavish flowerbeds were bright and colorful as paintbrush strokes on a lush green canvas.

  She’d been directed to the business office, a building apart from the sprawling stone Victorian, the obvious centerpiece of the resort’s theme. Once upon a time the smaller, scaled-down version she parked in front of now must have been a guest or gate house.

  Inside, she expected a receptionist, but instead she was met in the front hall by a woman about the same age as the shopkeeper, though shorter, and a little roly-poly. Pretty smile, and blessed with thick, curling hair black as two midnights. She gathered it over one shoulder, then offered a hand to shake. “You must be Amanda?”

  “I am. You’re Steph Watson?”

  “Yes, nice to meet you, I’m sure. Tell me, why would you want to work in fantasy fulfillment? Have you worked in the sex trade before? A dancer, perhaps?”

  “No, I... Well, you’ll find out from my background check that I was a bank manager, and without getting into too much detail, I just really need to get out of my current situation for personal reasons. I need to do, to be someone else for a while. Take on a new challenge.”

  Steph let out a quiet sniff of laughter. “This pla
ce will certainly challenge you. I’m not sure you understand how much. Are you willing to do some testing?”

  “Sure. What do you want me to do?”

  “You can step out back, here, for starters. Just onto the patio.”

  Amanda did as asked, stepping out a sliding glass door and down a couple steps onto a split-stone patio. It let out onto a wide lawn and provided a nice view of a cluster of bigger buildings newer than the main and gatehouse. Recent additions, she could tell, though still in keeping with the theme.

  Steph nodded toward a long, low massage table near the edge of the patio. “Clothes off, please. Everything, including your sandals, bra and panties.”

  Amanda went still a moment. Steph didn’t waste any time, obviously, and though her first instinct was to ask why she wanted her to strip in full view of the entire resort, she knew she shouldn’t. Steph was testing her already.

  It worried her a little that an electric buzz of nerves sizzled in her belly as she set her purse down near the massage table and bent to unstrap one sandal. Nerves were only natural, and probably a good thing. Any normal person would be nervous, disrobing in public at the request of a complete stranger.

  She stepped out of her sandals, then reached behind herself to unzip the sundress. The spaghetti straps slipped down her arms, and she let them go, wriggling a little to help the sundress shimmy over nicely rounded hips.

  Steph stared openly at her body, taking in the gentle slopes of her stomach, then rising to adhere to her breasts in the yellow lace bra. She had large breasts. D-cups, with petal-pink nipples she could feel tighten against the fabric. Since Steph looked so interested, she let the sundress hang at her hips and unclasped her bra to expose her bare breasts.

  The air felt cool against her sensitized skin when she slipped the bra off. It felt like every eye for miles around was staring right at her erect nipples, and she suffered a sudden and intense thrill. She liked the sensation of being nude out in the open where so many people might be watching. And she didn’t mind Steph staring. The older woman looked appreciative and approving, but not as if she wanted to touch.

  Amanda let the bra down onto the massage table, then skimmed the dress the rest of the way over her hips, and folding it over one arm before making a neat pile next to the table. And then, very glad she’d waxed in anticipation of a honeymoon that never happened, she hooked her thumbs into the band of her panties and slowly stepped out of them as well.

  She stood naked in front of Steph, who began to move, then, walking around her, having a look from all angles.

  Steph said, “We might need to cut your hair, just an inch or so. It’s a little long.”

  Amanda nodded. It was nearly to her waist right now.

  “But don’t, whatever you do, bleach it. We’ve got blondes coming out our ears, and I have need of a natural brunette. Now. How would you feel about a small performance? Feeling comfortable enough to try something if I tell you what to do?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good. This is something we have all applicants do, male or female. Just a little test to see that you’re willing and capable. Sit down, please, there on the edge of the massage table.”

  She did as Steph asked, wondering where this was going. She half suspected she would have to pleasure Steph, and felt a pang of disappointment. She would have hoped for more from a high-ticket place like this, that it wasn’t run by people who would take advantage of their position for their own personal gratification.

  Steph proved the suspicion wrong, however. “Okay, now I want you to run your index fingers over your nipples. They’re already erect, and I want you to make this feel good.”

  Amanda felt a flush warm her cheeks, partly from nerves, partly from excitement. She arched her back, lifting her breasts slightly and watched herself as she lightly rubbed just the very tip of both nipples. Twin zaps of sweet quicksilver stole from the contact straight to her pussy, warming and swelling the flesh there.

  Unbidden, she pinched each tip, heightening the sensation as she looked up at Steph, who said, “Very nice. Now I want you to lie back and spread your legs wide for me. Continue working your nipples so you don’t lose the pulse rate.”

  Very clinical, she thought, and connected eye-lines with Steph. It surprised her how liberating it felt to do this in full view of someone else, to be in control of her body and her pleasure, and not be met with disapproval. She got the opposite impression, in fact., and Steph left no doubt about what she liked. “Your body is nice. Supple and curvy. And I like your confidence. Clients would like it, too.”

  Thus bolstered, Amanda felt a bit more certain as she lay back and slowly raised her knees before parting them, slowly, then pushing her thighs back toward the cushioned tabletop, opening her sex wide while giving her nipples a sharp pinch.

  If she were Steph, she’d want to know her staff liked pleasure and could overcome inhibitions. So she turned up the performance, and pinched and worked her nipples, feeling totally wanton, enjoying the liquid rush of desire that zipped from her breasts to her pussy, stimulating. Swelling, exciting and making herself ever wetter and slicker.

  It didn’t surprise her to find that she liked Steph to look at her. She’d always fantasized about being watched. Not necessarily by another woman, or by an entire spa full of strangers, but she liked knowing they were looking at her pussy, and watching the way her fingers pressed and rubbed her clit.

  Once again, Steph approved. “Good, good. Now bring yourself to orgasm by rubbing your clitoris. You may not close your legs. I need to see the muscle flexion. It would be better if I could feel it. That is, if you don’t mind. Just to feel the orgasm. I’ll use a glove.”

  More than a little breathless by now, Amanda nodded. “Yes, please. I’d like that.”

  Steph breathed out a laugh that had an edge of appreciation to it. “Yeah, this is moving a little faster than I normally would. But you’re the perfect age, appear in good health both physical and mental. Mind you, you’ll have to pass all the exams and go through further testing to determine whether you’re really cut out for this.”

  While she spoke, Steph slipped on a latex glove and came to perch on the edge of the table near Amanda’s hip, facing her direction. “Okay, go ahead whenever you’re ready.”

  Amanda settled back onto the table, continuing to pinch her left nipple while reaching her right hand down to place her index finger on her clit. She had better go slowly, gently, or Steph would miss the whole thing.

  She slipped the tip of her finger farther down, dipping into the slick heat of her cunt to wet the tip. Masturbation had always felt better that way, her clit more sensitized when it was wet. She rubbed now, slow circular motions, and a melting, scorching vortex soon began to form around her pussy.

  A soft moan of warning escaped, telling Steph that orgasm wasn’t far away. Steph responded quickly, painting two fingers along her slit to moisten the glove before slipping the fingers inside.

  Steph had small hands and fingers, but having a virtual stranger—a female stranger—participate in this crazy public test made the growing ache double in speed and intensity. She stopped rubbing, wanting to prolong the deep, warm flare glowing inside.

  A casual smile lifted the corner of Steph’s mouth as she made eye contact. “Yes, good idea. Let it build up for a big release.”

  With that, Steph withdrew her fingers slightly to add a third, opening Amanda up a little wider, and applying more pressure as she thrust her fingers in deep this time, hard, straight into Amanda's G-spot. The jolt caused an explosive burst of pleasure that swelled down her thighs and up through her torso, setting her nipples ablaze with hungry sensation.

  Steph slowly pulled out and then thrust in again, her eyes lit up with challenge and intensity. Amanda, all thoughts of the performance lost now on a wave of desire, spread her legs as far as they would go, urging Steph to thrust hard again, and began to rub her clit in earnest. The sensations were almost overwhelming, but she felt safe and s
exy and never wanted to stop feeling this way.

  “Rock your hips,” Steph instructed. She coupled the order with another surprisingly strong thrust, and Amanda obeyed. Or tried to. As soon as she lifted her hips and pressed herself against the pressure of Steph’s hand, she felt the orgasm take root and contract muscles clear around into her buttocks, clenching them, gathering strength like a windup toy. And with a pinch of her nipple, it all let go into a stuttering, prolonged climax that held her breathless in a whiteout of pleasure, holding her aloft for seconds before the pulsing began, slow and strong at first, then rapid and so satisfying she curled forward.

  Just when she was about to attempt a breath, Steph pushed Amanda’s hand away from her clit and pressed her thumb there firmly, then began to pump her fingers inside, hard and fast. Instead of ebbing away, the orgasm roared back to life, spreading and spasming and making Amanda cry out in alarmed ecstasy while her pussy pulsed and clenched at Steph’s fingers.

  The older woman said something. Amanda barely heard her, let alone understood. And while she was still breathing hard and quivering like summer air after a violent storm, Steph hauled her to her feet, and back into the business office. Amanda was given a few minutes in a large, well-equipped bathroom to dress and get herself together, and then Steph sat her down in front of a computer to fill out a formal application. Really, she thought, it was like applying for any other job, save the physical and mental evaluations. Steph set up appointments for both the following day.

  She spent that night at her hotel, and hardly slept a wink. She would never have believed it of herself, but she was anxious to get this job, burning with curiosity and hope. This was something completely off the beaten path, a challenge of a sort most people would never dare volunteer to face. And sure, she was nervous about the unknowns, but she still had more testing to take. She’d learn more about the place. See how they operated and what they expected of her. If it didn’t pan out, it didn’t pan out, but she’d be disappointed if Fantasy Heights didn’t live up to its name.