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I hand Olive the stack of headshots of the actors. She takes them from me and places them on the table next to the script and her notebook that she has some things scribbled on. I’m guessing she has written interview questions and things like, Remain calm, and, Don’t stare at the guys’ dicks too much.
“This is your final test, so make sure you really prove to me that you’re capable of leading and taking control of any situation,” I say.
Olive rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t act like you haven’t already decided who’s going to be the manager. I know I already have the job. And, if I don’t, I’m suing you for sexual harassment,” she says with a smile.
I grin as I look at her. Then, I lean down, so my lips hover just over her ear, and I whisper, “Cocky. I like it, but just remember how much I enjoy punishing you when you mess up, and remember that we’re in a building full of all sorts of sex toys that you told me earlier you were afraid of. I could use far too many things in this building to punish you, and it would be far too enjoyable for me to make you so uncomfortable that you won’t be able to walk straight for a week.”
I take a seat in the chair at the table next to her as her eyes follow me. I see the hint of fear but also lust in her eyes at that thought.
I grin, happy to have made this challenge even harder for her. “Are you ready, Olive?” I ask.
She nods.
“We’re ready for the first round of actors!” I shout out the door of the audition room.
One of my assistants opens the door and lets the first five actors in. I watch as Olive calmly folds her hands together and lays them on the table, watching the actors walk into the room.
“Can you please tell me your name, a little about yourself, and what your last project was?” Olive says politely to them.
I don’t pay attention to the actors, just Olive. She listens with a bright smile on her face as each actor introduces themselves. She pulls out each headshot and résumé from the stack as they speak.
“I’ll now have you act out the first scene,” Olive says without an ounce of hesitation or fear in her voice.
I keep my eyes on her as actors get in position. But I can see them out of the corner of my eye, stripping most of their clothes off in order to prepare for the scene. The scene is much darker than what she saw yesterday. It’s a gangbang. Four men, one woman. And I don’t know how far she’s gonna want them to take the scene for her to decide who the best people for this job are. There is not really a right or wrong answer, although I usually have them take it far enough that I can decide how well they work together, enough for them to get into the scene and make me believe them.
Honestly, I don’t care if she picks all the wrong people for this next project. I just want to watch her grow uncomfortable and twist in her chair because I know watching her will drive me wild. I hear them start the scene with some seductive conversation. But Olive doesn’t change her expression. She just calmly sits there, like she’s watching an audition for a musical. The scene progresses, and I know that she is staring at guys holding their dicks as they prepare to fuck the actress.
But, still, Olive remains calm. Her eyes don’t show any fear or anxiety. Her breathing is calm and relaxed, but there is one tiny thing that gives her away. Her heart. I brush my hand against her leg, and I can feel her pulse beating rapidly through her body.
I grin. She might be pretending to be calm, but this is driving her wild inside.
She stops the scene a minute later, and I glance over to see where she stopped it—the exact moment after each of the men have had a chance to interact with the girl. It’s where I would have stopped them as well.
“Thank you all for coming. We will get back to you within the next couple of hours,” Olive says, standing out of her chair and extending her hand. As she does, her chair falls backward, making a loud clash.
One of the men whom she’s holding out her hand to, who is still standing completely naked and covered in sweat—among other things—says with a grin, “I don’t think you want to shake my hand right now.”
She retracts her hand. “You’re probably right,” she says, wincing. “It was nice to meet you all,” she says, sitting back down after picking up her chair.
I can’t help but laugh at her just a little.
She playfully punches me in the arm. “Stop laughing. You have to admit, I handled that pretty well, and I don’t think I’m ever going to come across a situation like this ever again in my life.”
I keep laughing because I can’t help it until she gives me a serious look. I stop it as the next few actors come into the room.
The process repeats over and over again, but every time, I look to see if it still affects her. And, every time, her heart still races in her chest, and her blood still pumps quickly throughout her body, letting me know that, despite her cool exterior, the auditions are driving her wild.
The last actors finally leave, and then I ask, “So, who would you pick?”
She digs through the headshots and places the third group out on the table.
“This group. But, if I’m allowed to exchange some actors from different groups, then I’d replace this guy with this guy from the first group,” she says, pointing to the various headshots.
I nod, entirely agreeing with her.
“Did I pass? Do I get the job?” she asks, crossing her arms and leaning back in the chair.
I scrunch my lips together, pretending to think about it for a couple of minutes, watching her frown, which in turn makes me laugh. “Yes, the job is yours. You’re the only one I trust to be me when I’m gone.”
