14. The Job Hunt goes on
The next few days were a bit of a challenge. We were still applying for jobs in anything that looked even remotely like something that would lead us to the careers we both wanted. Apart from any other concerns, we needed an income so we carried on working for Eli, though now in Mick’s workshop packing orders, or unpacking materials he’d ordered. Our working hours were ‘flexible’ so we could drop everything and go if we were offered an interview.
“Butch? Want to take a tour of the cathedral with me?” Eli asked over a mug of coffee. “Penn was impressed by the crypt and thought you might find the structure interesting. You can join us if you want to, Penn.”
Butch needed no second invitation, so we found ourselves following Eli and the Clerk of Works for the cathedral on a tour that took us through the crypt in the undercroft, up spiral staircases, around the clerestory, up more spiral stairs and through the roof void above the stone vaulted ceiling, round the great ‘lantern’ section of the tower above the quire, and then up to the very top of the massive Norman tower and into the Bell Chamber.
For me it was fascinating listening to the Clerk talk about the Medieval building methods, the choice of stone for inner and outer faces of walls, and Butch’s contribution on the difference between buildings like this, held in place by the compressive forces in the structure, and modern buildings with the structure held together by tension. The germ of an idea formed as I listened for a story, perhaps based on the building of a great church like this. I’d have to do a lot of research for it.
We got back to the flat to find the post had been delivered. There was a very formal letter for me. An invitation to the offices of Pegasus Publishing Ltd for an interview for the position of an assistant commissioning editor.
“Well done.” Butch hugged me. “You’re in!”
“I haven’t got it yet — they only want an interview.” I’d had so many ‘thank you for …’ letters after interviews, even ones I’d had to take trains to get too, that I refused to get my hopes up. “Fingers crossed though, at least this one’s local.”
There was a phone number, and a request I confirm my attendance, and that I bring with me my degree certificate. I called it immediately and confirmed that I would be there.
“Lucky dog,” Butch teased. “I’ve heard nothing from any of my latest bunch of applications. Eli says I mustn’t be impatient …”
“He said the same to me.” Hugging him from behind, I bit his earlobe gently. “I just know that when you do get an offer it’ll be exactly right for you.”
Pegasus Publishing was based in an older four storey building which looked Edwardian and very well maintained. Met in the foyer by a uniformed member of the Commissionaires Company, I was invited to wait and told that someone was on the way to take me to the interview.
“Mr Forester?” A smartly dressed woman addressed me, her expression welcoming as she held out her hand. “Natalie Wilson. HR Manager, Mr McKenzie is a little delayed, but told me to show you where you’ll be working and get all the formalities ready. He shouldn’t be more than an hour.” Having shaken hands, she turned. “If you’ll come with me.”
“Er, thanks. He’s delayed?” The ‘show you where you’ll be working’ didn’t suggest there was an interview in the offing. What did she mean?
“Afraid so. He’s with one of our authors and their agent.” She laughed. “Just need ten minutes with him … they said.” Ushering me into the lift she added, “They always do.” The lift door opened, and she stepped out as I stood aside. “This floor is where all the acquisitions and selections team are. Some of the team are also authors. Mr McKenzie liked your short story, and he’ll want to discuss it with you.”
Feeling a bit overwhelmed, I mumbled a response and nodded. I’d expected to have an interview, maybe be told a bit about the company — I’d looked them up in preparation. From my search I’d learned they published mainly the sort of glossy ‘coffee table’ books, but did some popular fiction, and several upmarket magazines of the monthly, or quarterly variety. Now I was trying to get my head round the idea I’d already been hired …
Opening a door, she said, “This is Alicia. You’ll be sharing this office with her. Alicia, this is Penn … Dunstan’s putting him with you to explore the horrors of the ‘slush pile’ …”
Every flat surface seemed to have stacks of folders or manuscripts piled on it.
“Penn?” Alicia was in her thirties, had a good figure, short hair, and dressed in jeans, a loose floral top and good looks. “Welcome to the madhouse.” Standing she held out a hand. “We get to try and read all the stuff would be authors agents send us … and have to sort the wheat from the chaff. Some of it’s … well, you’ll find out!” Her laugh made me grin as we shook hands.
“I’ll leave you with Alicia for the moment, Penn. Give me your certificates and your details. I’ll get you onto the system, and call for you when Dunstan’s free.”
“It’s all in here,” I handed over my folder with my degree, tax number and school and identification certificates. “But, um … doesn’t … I mean …”
“Don’t tell me! Dunstan hasn’t told you he was appointing you? Typical.” They both laughed. “Alright, talk to Alicia while I process this and I’ll be back to explain the employment offer shortly.”
As the door closed, Alicia laughed.
“You’ll get used to it,” she said. “Sit down over here,” she shifted a pile off the seat of a chair. “That’ll be your desk. I’m afraid I’ve rather spread myself a bit …” Laughing, she added, “As you can see — I practice horizontal filing …”
“Horizontal filing? Oh, I get it …” That made me laugh, and brought me back to Earth. “So what do we actually do?”
“Read the stuff sent in by agents and would be authors …” She grinned. “Fancy some coffee? There’s a coffee maker in the corner. I’ll pour you a cup …”
The coffee maker was one of those fancy filter machines with a glass jug on a hot plate. Pouring two mugs, she handed me one and unearthed a bowl of longlife milk capsules.
“Right, where were we … oh yes. Yes, we read the first few pages of anything. More if it grabs you, and then put it in one of three piles. I call them my ‘Okay, Maybe and No way’ piles. The first has potential and needs another look, the second has potential, but … and the third gets the ‘We’ve read your submission, but it doesn’t fit our catalogue …’ letter.”
“So we decide who gets published?”
“We’re the first level of ‘sorting’ — the ‘okays’ will get at least two more people looking at them, the maybe’s another look over by someone else, and the last … well, you can generally tell on the first page.” She laughed. “Especially if it starts with ‘It was a dark and stormy night …’ or similar cliche.”
We were deep into the intricacies of what the company looked for and on a refill of coffee having a good laugh at one of the reject submissions when the door opened and Dunstan breezed in.
“Oh good, getting straight into it! Good work, Penn. Hope you’ll be happy here. Oh and by the way, the editor of ‘Amusing Tales for Commuters’ wants to publish the story you sent me. He’ll be along to see you sometime. And Natalie has your appointment letter … she’ll be along to go over it with you shortly I guess.” Turning to leave, he added, “Sorry, got to dash, but I’m sure Alicia will show you where everything is …”
The door shut behind him and Alicia grinned as she saw my stunned expression.
“You’ll get used to it.”
I was still feeling stunned when I got back to the flat just after six to be greeted by a worried Butch, already in his ‘uniform’.
“What happened? I was beginning to think you’d had an accident, or been kidnapped? How’d the interview go?”
“What interview?” I couldn’t resist teasing, and instantly regretted it. Dumping my bag, I flung my arms round him and pulled him into a hug. “I’ve started work! I’m now the junior acquisitions editor at Pegasus … they didn’t interview me, I arrived, got shown my office and introduced to the senior acquisitions editor, and that was it …”
“Have you told Eli?” His expression a mix of pleasure and envy.
“Not yet.” I kissed him. “Let me get changed, and I’ll tell him when we go down to do the cleaning.” Hugging him, I added, “And I just know you’ll be getting good news soon.”
Changed into my ‘cleaner’s’ uniform, I walked down the stairs holding Butch’s hand. We found Eli talking to Mick in the shop. They both looked at us and laughed as we approached.
“Looks like one of our leprechauns found a pot of gold,” quipped Mick. “Will we be looking for a new cleaner?”
“Not unless you want to fire us,” I shot back and they both laughed.
“So what’s the news, Penn? I can see you’re looking pleased with yourself.” Eli’s smile was accompanied by a wink.
“Pegasus have taken me on … I’m appointed as assistant acquisitions sub-editor, and they want me to contribute regularly to their short story collection.” Slipping my arm around Butch, I hugged him. “All it needs now is for Butch to get the job he wants …”
“Congratulations, Penn.” Mick said, slapping me on the butt — the first time since our graduation party he or any of the others had touched me or Butch in an intimate way uninvited. “You’ve earned it. Just remember your friends when you’re famous …”
“Well done, Penn.” Eli hugged me, then put an arm round Butch. “Mick’s right, you’ll both go far.” Holding Butch with an arm round his waist, he added, “And I’m pretty sure you’ll have something to celebrate soon as well …” Putting an arm round my waist, he held us as he said, “Now then, Butch, before he gets too big headed, take him and put him in the stocks over there … hood him, and then polish him properly.” He laughed. “And when he’s properly shone up, you can both take the evening off …”
The stocks he put me into was one of Mick’s creations. It needed the three of them to put me into the device and the hood left me blindfolded and limited what I could hear, but left my mouth open. Now I was immobilised bent forward at the waist, with a neck clamp, my arms and legs cuffed to uprights and a hefty clamp over my waist attached to to the padded support under my abdomen.
It gave Butch free access to my rubber imprisoned erection and balls and my butt, and he set to work with a will to ‘shine me up’ with the silicon based polish and what felt like a polishing pad. It was torture, but I surrendered to it happily because I knew how much Butch enjoyed it … It didn’t take him long to make me cum, and I heard him say in my hooded ear, “You’re the bottom tonight … all night.”
He did a very thorough job of polishing me, then he released me, kept me hooded and took me up to the flat.
“Penn, you lucky bugger,” his mouth met mine in a demanding kiss. “Damn, you’re too fucking sexy for your own good … and …”
I stopped him with a finger on his lips.
“No, Butch, I’m your partner and lover. I love you, and now, to celebrate my getting lucky, and having YOU and a job I’m going to love … I’m yours for the night. Help yourself to whatever you want to do with me … fuck me, suck me, let me suck you … whatever you want … Just let’s make love anyway you like.” Holding him against me, I added, “If you hadn’t asked me to join you modelling that blue rubber suit … I’d never have met Eli, and we’d not be standing here, and I probably wouldn’t have this job … So, let’s celebrate all that …”
“Penn, my love, I don’t deserve you …”
“Rubbish,” I pushed my cum lubricated and rubber imprisoned crotch against his erection. “Now are you going to just tease me with that gorgeous member of yours, or use it to remind me I’m your ‘wife’ and ‘bottom’?”
“Oh Penn …” he whispered and began to ease me out of my rubber ‘uniform’, when my arms were free and the rubber was round my waist, he stopped and made to remove the hood.
“No, love, leave me hooded.” Kissing his shoulder — the first part of him I found — and knowing how much he enjoyed having sex with me in some kind of restraint, I whispered, “I want to feel you enjoy me … I’m giving this to you …”
It didn’t take him long to complete stripping me, and to shed his own rubber, then we were on the carpet and my beloved Butch making love to me …
