Fertility Clinic Pt. 02

Staunching her eyes with the moistened towel as water continued to cascade down upon her body, Dr Velour remarked, "soap in the eyes stings but is more annoying than painful." Opening her eyes and blinking, Dr Velour sighed "I'd like to speak with you. Join me in the pool -- unless you want to return to the cleaning crew for the remainder of your shift."

After toweling down, I stood before Doulchia with Dr Velour. Dr Velour in a friendly tone requested, "Down to the pool for a dip before my rounds for the day."

"The usual?" questioned Doulchia, "wearing sneakers // it's suitable // natural features // on display for an eyeful."

I was stunned staring at the sneakers thrust into my hand. Of course, I had run naked with the herd of employees at 4:30 AM, but I would be exposed now entering public areas, subject to public view. I gulped. It was a game.

Slipping the sneakers on, Dr Velour smiled at me, "nothing like giving the guys released from the cock block, a little tease. Walk with confidence like you're covered from head to toe. But if you prefer, I'll have Doulchia issue you a two -- piece."

With a smile, Doulchia intoned, "A clever deception // projecting confidence //your nakedness // passes undetected."

"Hmm," Dr Velour reflected focusing on Doulchia's padded bra, "Doulchia, I wonder how much confidence you could afford." For a full minute Dr Velour held Doulchia's gaze, before Doulchia looked away. With a pained smile, Dr Velour invited me to join her.

As Dr Velour and I walked down the ramp into the sub surface gym, naked men glanced in my direction, but passed on to get into the gym. Watching the men pass, I asked, "All morning, the girls—my co -- workers—have been hinting about extra money available here. Prostitution?"

"I'd never tolerate prostitution," Dr Velour stopped on the ramp. I halted with her. She bid a few males passing us a good morning as we paused together on the walkway.

"Most admirable," I considered my words carefully, "but I do notice that Doulchia's cup size has increased ponderously."

Placing a hand on my bare shoulder, Dr Velour continued to speak, "Your first lesson in management psychology: To be the owner, to manage the enterprise, one must see things differently."

"Differently?" I asked.

"I would not tolerate any employee who prostituted him or herself," Dr Velour told me, "less so less out of concern for law or ethics."

"What then," I prodded Dr Velour, "is your concern in preventing prostitution?"

"I own the facility." Dr Velour's dark eyes locked with mine; her tone was stern. "I pay for the client's output; what a client produces belongs to me. An employee who engaged in intercourse would be stealing. Correct?"

"But I saw the cups Doulchia's bra stuffed. I heard my co -- workers begging to eh—assist a customer," I protested.

"I allow nurses, aides and even others," Dr Velour explained, "to assist in drawing the product, no different from milking a cow. That's what rings the cash register. And you draw a paycheck for your internship learning Industrial Psychology. Are you a-game?"