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Message-ID: <37665asstr$1028473805@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Norm DePloom" <normdeploom@attbi.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "Corporate Slut" (M+/F,F+/F,toys) [New, improved, twice as long and more complete]
Date: Sun,  4 Aug 2002 11:10:05 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d





<1st attachment, "CorporateSlut.txt" begin>

If you don't like sex stories, don't read it.
If you don't like stories bout forced sex, don't read 
it.
If you are below the arbitrary age set for your area, 
don't read it.
If for any reason it is illegal for you to read this 
story, don't read it.

Copyright (C) 2001 Norm DePloom.  ALL Rights Reserved
This story may not be reproduced in any form for 
profit without the written permission of the author.  
This story may be freely distributed with this notice 
attached.  The author may be contacted at 'MyStories 
at normdeploom dot com'

All the characters and events in this story are 
fictional; any resemblance to real people or events is 
entirely coincidental.

Corporate Slut
By
Norm DePloom

The Weekend

My new job was every thing I had expected it to 
be.  Boring, useless, repetitive paperwork with a pay 
check that barely covered the rent on my crappy little 
two-room apartment.  As I took off my clothing and 
stepped into the hot shower I, as was my habit, 
reviewed the events of the last week.  My Friday- 
after- work shower is a ritual that goes back to my 
very first job.  I normally shower in the mornings 
before I go to work, I had showered that morning, but 
on Friday evening, when I get home from work I always 
take a shower to symbolically 'wash the week off' and 
transition into my weekend mode.  

As I rubbed the well-lathered washcloth over my 
body I thought about how badly I needed a man inside 
me.  Since I had moved to the 'big city' I seemed to 
be perpetually 'between' boyfriends.  Since I detested 
the whole 'single bar' thing I reluctantly accepted 
the fact that I would be spending the evening with 
Vibrating Victor, my most loyal lover.  By the time I 
stepped from the shower and, grabbing a towel, headed 
for my bedroom I was eagerly looking forward to my 
evenings first round with Victor, even before I fixed 
myself dinner.  Hey I told you I needed a man inside 
me, didn't I?

I didn't see them, and I didn't hear them.  All I 
knew was that something was put over my head and that, 
despite my struggles, a gag of some kind was forced 
into my mouth before strong hands lifted me into the 
air and, after carrying me into my bedroom, dumped me 
on my bed where they proceeded to tie my wrists and 
ankles to the corners of the bed.  I continued to pull 
and fight against the ropes until I wore myself out 
and lay still listening.  I was sure there were people 
in the room enjoying watching my naked body writhe and 
pull against the restraints, but I could not hear 
anything but the noise of the city.  

I do not know how long I lay, naked, tied to the 
bed.  At times I was sure that I heard the rustle of 
people moving around the room, or soft footsteps on 
the worn out carpet around the bed. Then I became 
aware of soft music coming from the other room of my 
apartment.  The music and the chatter of people at a 
party slowly grew louder until it drowned out the city 
noises.  How many people, I wondered, were in my 
apartment taking turns enjoying the view of my naked 
body.  Much to my surprise my nipples crinkled and I 
could feel myself getting wet when I pictured myself 
naked and tied spread eagle on the bed with a room 
full of horny men stroking themselves while they 
watched me struggling to get loose from the bonds.

The first few times I was touched I almost 
thought I was imagining it, but then it became 
apparent that a silk scarf, or something light and 
soft, was being moved over my body.  I hate to admit 
it, but my desperate need to have a man inside me had 
not been diminished by what were obviously 
preparations to gang rape me.  If anything I was more 
ready and more needy now than I had been when I 
stepped from the shower.  

My already hard nipples hardened to the point of 
being painful when the scarf was pulled back and forth 
across them.  I wanted to scream at them through my 
gag.  I wanted to yell at them to stop teasing me and 
get on with the gang rape I needed so badly.  As soon 
as those thoughts passed through my mind, as soon as I 
realized how much I really wanted to spend the night 
being gang raped by a room full of strangers, a wave 
of humiliation washed over me.  

The scarf was replaced with fingers moving over 
my skin and, at least for the time being, avoiding the 
one place where I needed to be touched the most.  I 
was wet.  I was open and ready to be taken, and I'm 
sure each and every person enjoying the show in my 
bedroom that night could see how wet, open and ready I 
was.  I lost control of my hips and they started 
jerking up and down making sex motions in the air.  

The cords holding my ankles were loosened and 
hands pulled my knees up and apart opening my private 
area for the whole room to view.  I felt someone climb 
on the bed and almost wept in gratitude for the soon 
coming relief.  Kneeling on the bed between my legs 
the person who climbed onto the bed placed a hand on 
each of my legs just above my knees.  Ever so slowly 
these warm hands moved up my inner thighs getting 
closer and closer to what was rapidly becoming the 
very center of my being.  Just as the hands reached 
the crease separating my thighs from my crotch they 
veered upward circling around the center of my 
universe to run through my pubic hair.  After 
reversing direction the hands again just barely missed 
the one place I wanted them to be and moved slowly 
back up my inner thighs towards my knees.  

Hands cupped my breasts, and mouths began to work 
on my nipples as the hands started another journey 
down my thighs.  'Please,' I wanted to yell through my 
gag, 'touch me, take me.'  The hands came right up to 
the very edge of my opening before once again veering 
off and moving back up my thighs.  I imagined a well-
muscled Adonis with a huge erect penis crouched 
between my legs teasing me before he takes me with one 
powerful lunge.  

Mouths sucked my nipples, hands massaged my 
breasts, fingers caressed almost every square inch of 
my body, every inch that is except the place where I 
needed to be touched the most.  My whole body trembled 
in anticipation as the hands moved slowly back down my 
thighs a third time.  I no longer cared who might be 
watching or how good the 'show' was, I tilted my hips 
up and tried to pull my legs further apart to open 
myself even more hoping to entice the torturing hands 
into touching me where it really counted.  

"No." I screamed and sobbed through my gag when 
the hands were pulled away just short of where I 
wanted them.  Then while all the other sucking and 
touching continued almost unnoticed a single finger 
touched me on the edge of my left outer lip.  Another 
fingertip touched me on the upper edge of my right 
outer lip.  'Yes,' I screamed in my mind, 'open me.  
Enter me.  Take me.'  The fingers moved with expert, 
exquisite slowness up my outer lips.  I held my hips 
up, my body trembling, offering myself; waiting for 
that first magic touch on my clitoris.  The fingertips 
circled without touching and, leaving me feeling like 
a stark raving insane lunatic, moved back down the 
crests of my outer lips until they met where the lips 
meet at the bottom.  The hands turned so the fingers 
faced outward then began the slow journey back up the 
inside surface of my slick outer lips once again 
headed toward my eager begging-to-be-touched clitoris.  

My whole body was shaking with sobs as I begged 
through my gag for relief from this exquisite 
pleasure-torture.  I can't tell you how long this 
continued.  I only know that it wasn't until I felt 
like I'd go totally and permanently insane did I 
finally feel him inside me.   I started cuming as soon 
as he entered me and the waves of orgasmic pleasure 
were mixed with waves of shame and humiliation.  

Although rest of the weekend is a blur I do 
remember isolated incidences. I do know that I was 
taken and used in just about every way possible by men 
and women alone and in groups.  Since I remained 
blindfolded the whole time I'm still not certain about 
everyone who participated in my humiliation and 
ultimately the beginning of my rebirth as a corporate 
slut.

Back To Work

When I woke up Monday morning I first thought was 
that I had just experienced an incredibly realistic 
sex dream.  That was quickly followed by a wave of 
humiliation and total self-disgust when I remembered 
how enthusiastically I had ended up participating in 
my own debauchment.  

I found a pile of neatly laid out clothes with a 
typed note instructing me to 'wear these clothes, and 
nothing else'.  I put the note back on top of the pile 
and looked around.  I found not a clue as to who had 
been partying in my apartment and in my body all 
weekend.  I did discover that I really had no choice 
about wearing the clothes they had laid out for me.  
All my other clothing had been taken. Not even a sock 
or a pair of panties was left for me.  

I took a closer look at the clothing they had 
left for me.  It was what could only be described as 
an archetypal quintessential 'slut uniform'.  I found 
a black garter, black silk stockings (very nice, high 
quality), spiked high heels, a push up bra designed 
not to support the breasts as much as to display them, 
a black skirt that looked more like a wide belt and a 
silk blouse that was so shear it looked like nothing 
more than a wisp of gray smoke when I held it up to 
look at it.  The clothes may have been 'trashy' and 
'whore-ish' but they definitely were not 'cheap' every 
item was of the highest quality. The outfit laid out 
for me cost more, I was sure, then I would make in the 
next month.  The person, or persons, doing this 
obviously has a 'thing' about silk.

I was learning a lot about myself in those days.  
Just the thought of wearing my new 'slut uniform' in 
public scared me senseless, but it was also making my 
nipples hard and I was getting incredibly wet.  I'm 
sure I would have 'chickened out' if I'd had so much 
as a towel to wrap myself in, but they had left me no 
choice.  I would have to wear the 'slut clothes' even 
to go out and buy 'decent' clothes, not that they had 
left me any money to buy new clothes with.  The only 
thing in my apartment, other than my furniture, was my 
new slut clothes and enough change for bus fair to 
work.  

I put on the garter belt first, then the 
stockings.  I avoided looking at myself in the mirror 
while I dressed.  After the stockings I put on the bra 
and finally the blouse.  Whoever bought these clothes 
new my exact size.  I stood for a minute preparing 
myself before turning towards the mirror.  What can I 
say?  I looked like a whore.  You know what they say, 
'Look like a whore, feel like a whore.'  Well, I'm 
sure somebody said it.  If not, then I guess I'm the 
first.

Whoever the group of people were who spent the 
weekend playing with my body they had gone to a lot of 
trouble to make sure I would show up at work looking 
like a tramp.  I fully expected to be canned as soon 
as I walked in the door at work, but at least if they 
did fire me then they'd have to pay me for a week's 
work and I'd be able to buy something decent to wear.

As soon as I stepped out the front door into the 
chilly air my nipples crinkled and, with each wobbly 
unsteady step on heels far higher than any I'd ever 
tried to walk on before, rubbed against the front edge 
of the push up bra cup.  I found it to be both 
irritating and stimulating.  The cold air swirling 
around my naked private areas sent chills up my spine.  

I could see the crowd at the bus stop from a 
block away, and tried to time my arrival with that of 
the bus.  I could see the men, and some of the woman, 
nudging each other to let them know that there was 
something worth looking at approaching.  I hung back 
until everyone else had boarded then I suddenly 
realized that there was no way for me to step up into 
the bus without flashing the driver, and who ever was 
seated behind him, twice.  Taking a deep breath and 
swallowing hard I grabbed the cold steel rail and 
lifted my right leg while the driver, and the two men 
behind him, stared unashamedly at my exposed crotch.  
My face burned with visible humiliation as I lifted my 
other leg, giving the three leering men another good 
look at me.  Red faced and swallowing hard I climbed 
the last step into the bus and quickly moved to the 
only empty seat left.

"You'd better not leave a wet spot on my bus 
seat" The driver leered at me.  As I lowered my bare 
bottom onto the cold plastic, I could feel my face 
burning red and I tried not to look at anyone around 
me.  Every time I glanced up I could see the men 
around me staring at my hard nipples, clearly visible 
through the thin silk blouse I'd been forced to wear.  
I crossed my arms and hunkered down in the seat, 
trying to make myself invisible.    

The two-block walk from the downtown bus stop to 
the office building where I worked seemed to take 
forever.  I continually pulled at my skirt as it rode 
up my thighs with each step, threatening to expose my 
panty-less crotch for all to see.

"Good morning slut."  Was the first greeting I 
heard from the security guard when I walked through 
the door.  I could feel my face burning as I walked to 
my desk.  I tried to ignore the rough fabric on the 
seat of my secretarial chair rubbing on my tender 
unprotected pussy as I shuffled through the weekend 
mail sorting it into piles by department.  Not wanting 
to talk to anyone, I kept my head down, not looking up 
when a shadow fell across my desk.

"Mr. Smythe wants to see you, slut."  My 
supervisor said then, without saying another word she 
turned and walked back to her own desk.  There's 
something different about her, I thought as I walked 
toward the elevator, and why would Mr. Smythe be 
sending for me and not Mr. Phillips?  Mr. Phillips was 
the personnel manager and the one I would have 
expected to give me the ax for coming to work dressed 
like a tramp.  That's when it hit me and I reached out 
to support myself against the elevator wall as the 
implications of my realization made my head reel.  I'd 
been so self absorbed, so obsessed with the clothes 
I'd been forced to wear that I had totally missed that 
every other woman in the office was dressed just like 
I was.

I leaned sideways, my head moving with the 
elevator doors as they closed, peering out into the 
office to confirm my realization.  All those ladies 
who had come to work all last week attired in 
conservative business clothes were dressed today just 
as whorishly as I was. I remained deep in thought, 
contemplating the significance of what I'd just seen, 
as the elevator moved quickly and quietly up three 
floors, where the doors opened and, after waiting 
patiently for the allotted time, started to close 
again.  Realizing what was happening I thrust my arm 
into the path of the closing door then, after the 
doors re-opened, stepped into the pushily carpeted 
hallway, which led to Mr. Smythe's office.

I was in a state of total confusion as I walked 
into Mr. Smythe's outer office.  His secretary was no 
where to be seen, so I quietly tiptoed over and peeked 
through the open door into Mr. Smythe's inner office.  
Mr. Smythe waved me into his office without taking his 
eyes from the computer screen on his desk.

"No, no," he said when I stopped in front of his 
desk, "over here dear."  He finished indicating that I 
should stand beside his chair.  In this day of 
political correctness and sexual harassment lawsuits I 
was surprised to be called 'dear' by a man at work.  I 
walked around his desk and stood beside his chair.  He 
seemed to ignore me at first, then without warning, or 
asking permission I felt his hand move up my right 
inner thigh from my knee right up to my exposed 
crotch.  His hand moving over my silk covered leg was 
in many ways more sensual and more blatantly sexual 
than his hand on bare skin would have been.  I 
recognized the touch immediately; this was the hand 
that had tormented me so unmercifully Friday night 
before the fuck-fest began.  

My body responded while my mind was still trying 
sort things out.  Before I realized what I was doing 
my pelvis tilted forward and I leaned eagerly into his 
invading hand.  Mr. Smythe easily slipped two fingers 
into me, still without taking his eyes from his 
computer screen.

"Oh my god."  I whispered when curiosity finally 
forced me to look at Mr. Smythe's computer, where I 
saw a video of myself tied to my bed and being 
ravished by four or five men simultaneously.

"OH MY GOD" I repeated considerably louder when 
Mr. Smythe's fingers pushed against my 'G' spot just 
when his thumb started rubbing against my clitoris.  
My body jerked repeatedly against his hand in small 
sharp fucking motions.  Mr. Smythe continued 
stimulating me with his fingers until I was right on 
the verge of an orgasm then he removed his fingers 
just as his secretary walked into the office.  She 
smiled at me sweetly while I stared at her with open-
mouthed amazement.  She was wearing a corset that must 
have been laced up and tied so tight that I have no 
doubt that she had trouble breathing.  It left her 
breasts even more exposed than my bra left mine.  She 
wore black nylons held up with red elastic garters 
around her thighs and spiked heels higher than the 
ones that had been left for me.  Her smooth clean-
shaved crotch was on display for all to see.  She 
handed Mr. Smythe an intra-office envelope then after 
giving me an up and down glance, licked her lips 
invitingly and left the room.  Just as she reached the 
door she gave me another look over her shoulder.  As 
she turned and walked from the room I saw, what I was 
later to learn was a butt plug, projecting from her 
posterior.  

"Take this envelope," Mr. Smythe instructed me, 
"and return to work."  As he continued to talk Mr. 
Smythe ran his hands over my silk covered thighs and 
my bare butt.  "From time to time during the day you 
will be summoned to the offices of the Corporate 
officers listed on the envelope," I spread my legs 
trying to entice him to touch me where I really needed 
to be touched, "at the end of the day you will report 
back to me.  If all the officers give you a good 
report you will be retained by the company as a 'Slut 
In Training' with a considerable pay raise.  Now get." 
He finished giving the inside of my thigh a pat.   As 
I turned to leave the office Mr. Smythe's attention 
returned to the video of my gang rape playing on his 
computer. 

As I walked through the door into the outer 
office I found myself suddenly being embraced by Mr. 
Smythe's secretary.  While she massaged my butt with 
both hands she laid a line of kisses along my neck, 
speaking to me in a soft whisper between kisses.  I 
had never done anything with a woman before, but I 
felt thrill-chills run up and down my spine with each 
of her kisses.  

"Just relax," She advised me, "and enjoy what's 
about to happen to you."  She moved her hands up 
placing one on each of my cheeks.  "If you have any 
problems just come see me."  She said as she brought 
our mouths together.  I didn't really believe that it 
was going to happening until our lips touched and her 
tongue pushed between mine.  As she explored the 
inside of my mouth her hands moved down across my 
breasts and stomach then, slipping under my short 
skirt, she moved her thumb gently back and forth over 
my clitoris.  "I want to be your mentor." She said 
breathlessly then guided me out of the office and back 
into the hallway leading to the elevator.  

Is that what they call it now? I asked myself as 
the elevator quickly dropped me back to the first 
floor.  I walked in somewhat of a daze from the 
elevator back to my desk, then stood open-mouthed 
staring at my chair.  It looked just like the chair I 
had used all last week, an expensive high-quality 
secretarial chair, except now it had a large plastic 
cock sticking up right where I was expected to sit 
down.  

"It's Mr. Smythe's."  Debra, the woman at the 
next desk said.

"Huh?" was the best I could do in reply.  

"It is modeled on Mr. Smythe's cock," she 
explained half standing so I could see there was one 
protruding from her chair's seat also, "he says he 
likes to have the feeling that he's fucking all of us 
at the same time."  I'd never seen a cock, plastic or 
flesh, being pushed into or being pulled out of a 
woman before, the sight was intriguing.  When she rose 
up her inner lips drug along the surface of the 
plastic cock and were pulled into view; when she 
lowered herself back down they were pulled back 
inside.  I looked back over at my chair and my head 
spun once again with the realization that every woman 
in the building was working with a replica of her 
boss' cock inside her.  

I gave the chair a closer look reaching out and 
touching the plastic cock.  It felt both soft, and 
firm and slightly warm, almost like the real thing.  
There was an additional protrusion in front of the 
cock and another one behind it; at the time I had no 
idea what they were for.  I knew that I would have no 
problem getting it inside me, in fact the way I was 
feeling I really needed it inside me.  I just did not 
want to lower myself onto it with every one in the 
office watching.  

"Are you going to sit down and start working?"  I 
heard my supervisor's voice from right behind me.  "Or 
do I have to show you how to use basic office 
equipment."  It was the first time I'd ever heard a 
large plastic cock described as 'basic office 
equipment'.  I wonder, I thought as I spread my legs 
and lowered myself onto my 'basic office equipment' 
chair, how many miles she's logged on one of these.  
Reaching between my legs with both hands I grasped the 
shaft of the plastic cock with my left hand and spread 
myself open with the fingers of my right hand.  Then, 
trying to ignore all the eyes watching me from around 
the room, I worked myself further and further onto the 
up thrust plastic cock.  

I could feel my face turning redder and redder as 
I lowered myself on to my new chair while a whole room 
full of people watched.  When I was fully seated I 
realized what the additional protrusions were intended 
for.  The one in front rested against my clitoris 
while the one in back massaged my ass every time I 
moved.  

"Everybody back to work."  The supervisor 
announced clapping her hands like she was talking to a 
group of children.  I watched as she moved back to her 
own desk and, with a most natural and practice motion, 
lowered herself onto her own piece of  'basic office 
equipment'.   I started my boring tasks, shuffling 
papers into different piles, and discovered that every 
time I moved I could feel it not only deep inside but 
also directly on my clitoris and on what, I was 
rapidly discovering, was an equally sensitive ass 
hole.  Believe me it gave a whole new level of 
excitement to sorting mail.

Every time I looked around the room people would 
suddenly look away, pretending that they were not 
watching me.   Usually they would look up at the clock 
first then pretend to be busy with work on their 
desks.  I finally realized that, this being an office, 
they naturally had a pool going on how long it would 
take me to cum the first time.  Knowing that everyone 
was going to see me when I came, I tried to sit as 
still as possible while I worked, but despite the best 
of intentions I would, every few minutes, find myself 
rocking back and forth on my 'basic office equipment' 
stimulating myself while everyone watched.  Each time 
I would turn bright red and, ignoring my co-workers 
giggles, make another attempt to sit absolutely still.  
I quickly discovered that the effort to not cum only 
made me more excited.  

I have no idea how long I lasted but there came a 
time when I abandoned all pretense and, holding onto 
the edge of my desk for dear life, rocked unashamedly 
back and forth working my hot wet pussy on the large 
hard plastic cock while moaning 'Oh god...Oh god...Oh 
god...' over and over again.  The people in the office 
actually left their desks and gathered around mine for 
a better view of the new slut having her first 
corporate cum.  My whole body stiffened and, it seemed 
to me, I spent an eternity dancing impaled on the 
plastic cock that protruded from my chair until I, 
babbling incoherently, collapsed onto my desktop and 
laid there, for how long I couldn't say, with drool 
oozing from the corner of my mouth and puddling on the 
papers below.  I was barely aware of an official time 
being declared and a wad of money being given to one 
of the bystanders before they all dispersed to their 
own desks to climb back onto their own 'basic office 
equipment' and return to their work.  

"Mr. Harper wants to see you."  My supervisor 
announced as soon as the audience had left.  Standing 
on trembling legs I wiped the drool from my face and, 
looking down at the cum covered plastic cock, wondered 
if office etiquette called for me to wipe it clean 
before I left the room.  I actually got a small 
applause from my fellow workers as I walked to the 
elevator.  

My inner thighs were wet and sticky and my legs 
were still trembling, as I approached Mr. Harper's 
office. I wasn't sure how much of the leg trembling 
was left over from the orgasmic display I'd just given 
my fellow employees and how much was excitement over 
what might be demanded of me next.  Just as I reached 
for the door to Mr. Harper's office I was stopped dead 
in my tracks by a devastating thought.  Why was I 
still there?  Why had I made no objection when Mr. 
Smythe put his fingers inside me?  When his secretary 
kissed me and fingered my clitoris?  Why had just I 
fucked myself on the plastic cock with everyone 
watching?  

I released the doorknob and, leaning face first 
against the wall, began to cry.  I did not like the 
only answer I had to those questions.  In fact I found 
myself emotionally crushed by the answer.  Today was 
not like over the weekend, then I'd had no choice.  
Even if I'd ended up enjoying everything they did to 
me, I was still being forced.  Today I was a 
volunteer.  

As I cried and the worst of the emotions drained 
from my body I felt a presence behind me. Then I felt 
her body against mine seeming to cover me completely 
and hold me against the wall.  I was totally surprised 
by how relaxed I became, as her warmth seemed to flow 
into me.

"What am I?"  I asked with a desperate whisper.  
Before answering she took my wrists and pulled my arms 
over my head and held them there almost as if I'd been 
tied to a hook.

"You," she answered holding my wrists with her 
left hand and allowing her right hand to move slowly 
down my extended arms, "are a slut."  She finished 
simply and directly, but without the condemnation 
usually associated with the word and certainly without 
the derogatory tone I used with it in my own mind.  My 
body totally relaxed and I would have collapsed on the 
floor if she had not been holding me up.

"But," she asked as her hand continued to explore 
my body, "what is a 'slut' but a woman who has decided 
to enjoy sex to the fullest degree possible?"  Her 
right hand eventually found my clitoris once again.  
"We can surrender to the degrading connotation forced 
on that word by our male dominated society or we can 
glory in the freedom available by claiming that word 
for our own and wearing it as a badge of honor to 
designate a woman how embraces her sexuality and lives 
her life for all its worth grabbing every moment of 
pleasure afforded her.  Your body has already made its 
decision.  Now we're just waiting for your mind to 
catch up."  She turned me around and, still holding my 
arms up in symbolic bondage, kissed me deeply and 
thoroughly, a kiss that left me feeling like I 
belonged to her.  That being another feeling that I 
wasn't really sure I was ready for.

"Now get your tight little ass into Mr. Harper's 
office and see what surprises he has for you."  She 
ordered giving me a gentle shove down the hall.  

As Mr. Harper's secretary waved me right through 
her office into the inner office with a friendly 
smile, I noticed she was wearing conservative woman's 
business attire instead of the slut clothes I had 
noticed everyone else wearing.   As soon as I entered 
his office Mr. Harper pushed his chair back from his 
desk and signaled for me to crawl into the space under 
it.  I was barely ensconced between Mr. Harper's knees 
and the modesty panel when his secretary escorted two 
men into the office.  Mr. Harper stood and shook their 
hands then, sitting back down, he rolled himself 
forward and spread his legs stopping with my head 
neatly trapped between his thighs, my face all but 
resting on his crotch.  

I'm rarely accused of being stupid and it didn't 
take a Mensa membership card to figure out what Mr. 
Harper wanted.  I moved each of my hands up the 
outside of his thighs and, unzipping Mr. Harper's 
trousers, pulled his already half hard cock free.  Mr. 
Harper had one of the biggest cockheads I'd ever 
stretched my lips over, the crest must have stood a 
good quarter inch above the cock shaft. The cock felt 
and tasted familiar, I was beginning to get the idea 
that I had been fucked by every other employee of the 
company over the weekend. 

I was well aware that I was being tested, and 
remained sensitive to the non-verbal clues being given 
to me by Mr. Harper, speeding up or slowing down, 
concentrating on the large head or taking the whole 
shaft down my throat, as he silently instructed me 
using barely perceptible body movements.  I've always 
loved sucking cocks, which was one of the main 
drawbacks to having 'Vibrating Victor' as my most 
loyal lover, and my tongue was fascinated by the warm, 
firm, velvety feel of Mr. Harper's huge cockhead.  My 
jaw was beginning to tire, but I dutifully sucked his 
hard cock until it erupted filling my mouth with his 
warm slightly salty tasting cum.  

I swallowed his cum feeling proud of myself and 
ready to set back under the desk and enjoy the after-
taste when I realized that the meeting was coming to 
an end and that Mr. Harper would soon be standing up 
to shake their hands with his large softening cock 
hanging from the front of his trousers.  As humorous 
as the vision seemed to me at the time, I hurriedly 
pushed his thick cock back into his pants and finished 
zipping him up just as he pushed his expensive 
executive chair away from his desk and stood to bid 
his visitors good bye.  After the other men left I was 
allowed to climb out from under the desk, I noticed 
that Mr. Harper's chair was missing the 'basic office 
equipment' that had been installed on mine.  

"Very good young lady."  Mr. Harper said, 
speaking to me for the first time in a deep rumbling 
base voice that sounded very authoritarian and 
'fatherly' and caused my insides to melt, my knees to 
go weak and my already over stimulated cunt to go into 
overtime producing juices.  He reached out and ran his 
finger gently down my cheek then touched my breasts in 
a way that made me think of a shy little boy exploring 
his first pair of bare tits, and that turned me on in 
a whole different way.

"Patricia, my secretary, will take care of your 
paper work."  He said removing his fingers from my 
hard nipples and turning towards his desk.  I walked 
back through the door into the outer office feeling 
confused and cheapened by his abrupt dismissal. 

"You forgot to bring your envelope."  Patricia 
said as she removed her jacket and began unbuttoning 
her blouse.  "I do hate it when we have visitors from 
outside."  She smiled finishing her nonsequiter as she 
continued to strip off her conservative business 
clothes while she talked.  Once she was down to what 
appeared to be the basic secretary uniform, a corset, 
hose, garters and extremely high heels, Patricia 
picked up the phone and pushed a couple of numbers.

"Don't worry about it," she said while the phone 
rang, "we'll have your papers sent up."  As she talked 
Patricia leaned back on her desk and, propping her 
feet up on the edge of the desk, spread her legs then 
signaled for me to come closer.  

"Joanne," Patricia spoke into the phone while she 
signaled for me to move even closer, "I need you to do 
something for me."  Patricia put her right hand on the 
back of my neck, silently urging me onto my knees.  
"Send up Jane's package."  While she talked to my 
supervisor Patricia pulled my head closer to her 
waiting crotch.  "You can send somebody else up with 
it if you want," I was resisting having my face shoved 
into her crotch, "but I think it will be more fun if 
you bring them up yourself."  Patricia hung up the 
phone then held my head with both hands. 

"I'm going to be filling out your 'fitness 
report' soon," she let me know looking into my eyes, 
"so if I were you I'd be a little more co-operative."  
She gently stroked my hair.  "After all you just 
sucked a mans cock to insure your employment what's so 
bad about licking a little pussy?"  Patricia began to 
pull my mouth closer to her pussy again.  "Especially 
since you've tongued this one before."  I wanted to 
explain to her that being blindfolded, tied to a bed 
and having anonymous cunts shoved in your face was 
different than dropping to your knees and diving 
tongue first into a woman's pussy, but my voice was 
muffled very effectively by her wet cunt.  

"Ooh yes, that's good."  I recognized the taste 
of seamen and wondered who had made the deposit I was 
now withdrawing.  "Yes," Patricia continued her 
coaching, "right there, that's the spot, you've got 
it."  As I licked the cum coated folds of Patricia's 
cunt I massaged her inner thighs with my hands.  
Obviously I was getting into my assignment and I 
didn't hear Joanne come into the room.  I was 
surprised when I felt someone kneeling behind me and, 
reaching around my sides to push my blouse up, cup my 
breasts and twist my nipples.  As my excitement grew I 
put more enthusiasm into licking Patricia's pussy.  
Leaving my nipples hard and wanting more attention 
Joanne jacked up my skirt then slipped both hands 
between my thighs and ran her forefingers up and down 
my wet slick cunt lips.   My whole body was trembling 
almost uncontrollably by the time Patricia grabbed my 
head with both hands and ground her orgasming pussy 
against my face.  

As soon as Patricia stopped jerking Joanne laid 
back on the floor pulling me back with her.  As I 
turned Joanne spread her legs and I almost fell face 
first into her crotch.   On my knees, bent over with 
my face between Susan's thighs and my butt sticking up 
in the air, the only thought I had was 'When will it 
be my turn?'  I didn't have long to wait for the 
answer.  Patricia slipped down from the desk and 
setting on the carpeted floor with one leg extended on 
each side of me I felt her push my skirt up off my ass 
then gently caress my posterior while showering it 
with kisses.  

"Patricia." I heard the deep rumbling voice of 
Mr. Harper.  I could only assume he was standing over 
us since my vision was blocked by Joanne's thighs 
which held my head locked in her crotch.

"Yes Mr. Harper?"  Patricia asked momentarily 
ceasing her kissing of my ass.

"Ah, when your done, ah, with what you're, ah, 
doing," Patricia slipped one of her hands between my 
legs and rubbed my pussy and clitoris while she 
listened to her bosses instruction, "make sure these 
papers get filed."

"Yes Mr. Harper."  Patricia answered as she 
slipped a couple of fingers into me.  Mr. Harper 
apparently started to go back into his office then 
stopped and spoke again.

"When you're done with her," Mr. Harper sounded 
almost shy, "send the new slut back into my office."

"Yes Mr. Harper."  Patricia answered before she 
nuzzled her mouth between my butt cheeks and pressed 
her tongue against my ass hole.  I moaned into 
Joanne's sloppy wet cunt as Patricia pushed her tongue 
into my ass and teased my clitoris with her thumb and 
forefinger.

"Lovely lusty ladies licking luscious little 
lower lips."  I heard Mr. Harper saying as he left the 
room.  Apparently he had a thing for alliteration.  
The tongue probing my ass, not to mention the fingers 
fucking my 'luscious little pussy', and skillfully 
flicking at my clitoris gave me precious little 
inclination for meditating on the man's verbal 
peculiarities.  Between sessions of gently sucking and 
tonguing Joanne's enlarged clitoris, I pushed my 
tongue deeply into the warm wet cavern of her pussy.  
By this time I figured that just about any cunt I put 
my tongue into around there would have the distinctive 
taste of having just been fucked, and I wondered whose 
leftover sperms were making their way down my throat 
this time.   We must have looked like a tangled pile 
of body parts as we shifted positions, pushing 
fingers, tongues and whatever else was handy into each 
other's cunts until we, after many wonderful orgasms, 
lay exhausted in each other's arms.  

"Mr. Harper is expecting you."  Patricia reminded 
me as she, Joanne and I helped each other up from the 
carpeted floor after recovering from our 'post coital' 
daze.  

"I'll take your paper work back downstairs."  
Joanne assured me as I straightened my blouse and 
pulled my short skirt down far enough to (almost) 
cover my well-licked cunt.  The door to Mr. Harper's 
inner office was standing open and I'm sure he heard 
every moan and groan of our little spontaneous all 
girl orgy.  Judging from the rampant state I found him 
in, I'm sure he also saw most of it.  When I walked 
back into his office he stood up and, with his 
trousers already gone and his cock already hard and 
waiting for me, waved me over to his desk.  With 
strength I never would have guessed he possessed Mr. 
Harper lifted my up and sat me on the edge of his 
desk.  Then, without saying a word to me, he lifted 
and spread my legs; forcing me to lie on my back 
across his desk.  Pulling me forward so my ass hung 
off the edge, Mr. Harper pushed the head of his hard 
cock against my ass hole.  I was glad Susan had paid 
special attention to that area with her tongue.  
Perhaps she had known what was waiting for me when I 
went back into the inner office.  I wasn't an anal 
virgin even before they gang fucked every portion of 
my anatomy over the weekend.

"Oh, god," I moaned as he forced my ass to open 
for his cock.  I've already mentioned how big Mr. 
Harper's cockhead was, but it felt ten times larger 
going into my ass.  He was a gentle man, letting his 
cock sink slowly into me with steady pressure.  Once 
he was buried completely inside me Mr. Harper bent 
over and sucked on my nipples while he moved his cock 
barely a fraction of an inch rocking back and forth on 
top of me.  During the whole process Mr. Harper left 
his shirt, coat and tie on with his vest buttoned up 
and his gold chain watch fob dragging across my skin.  
 From where I laid he looked for all the world like the 
well-dressed corporate executive that he was; only the 
rhythmic pumping of his cock in and out of my butt 
hole informed me otherwise.  That and his smiling face 
being framed by my upturned legs.  

As I left Mr. Harper's office, never having 
enjoyed having my ass reamed by a boss before, I 
realized that it was time for my coffee break and, in 
spite of constant sex all morning, I had yet to be 
actually fucked, in the traditional meaning of the 
word, by anything other than a plastic replica of Mr. 
Smythe's cock.  Susan was waiting by the elevator door 
and, I must admit, I was happy to see her even if her 
behavior was bordering on that of a stalker.  

"How are you doing?"  She asked as she put her 
arm around my waist and walked me into the elevator.  

"OK, I guess."  I suddenly felt like burying my 
head against her well-displayed breasts and crying.  
The sex had been enjoyable, even the weekend-long gang 
rape, but it was all so new and confusing to me.  
"This isn't anything like how I've always pictured my 
life going."  

"I know," Susan said sympathetically as she 
turned toward me and patted my cheek, "it's really 
hard at first."  After a couple of seconds we both 
giggled.
 
"...but it gets softer as time goes by." I added 
through our laughter.

"Well," Susan added hugging me, "easier, and more 
fun, but I hope never softer."  Susan always seemed to 
know just what to say.  "No rest for the young 
corporate slut trainee," she continued letting her 
hand slip down and squeeze my butt, "you've got to 
report to Mrs. Marshell's office."  Susan kissed me, 
quickly and thoroughly, then stepped off the elevator 
and, reaching back through the door, pushed the button 
for Mrs. Marshall's floor.  As I rode back up in the 
elevator I couldn't believe that just last Friday I'd 
been depressed because I wasn't getting any sex.  I 
caught sight of myself in the polished stainless steel 
elevator wall.  My hair was a mess, my blouse was un-
tucked and held (somewhat) closed by only one button 
and my already short skirt was hiked up and crumpled 
around my waist allowing my well used pussy and matted 
pubic hair to show.

"Fuck it."  I said out loud as the elevator door 
opened and I stepped out into the hallway.  I found 
Mrs. Marshall's outer door open and walked in.  The 
outer office was also empty and the door was open to 
the inner office so I continued without pausing into 
Mrs. Marshell's office expecting to end up with my 
face buried in another cum oozing cunt.   I was 
surprised to find Mrs. Marshall standing in the middle 
of the room completely naked with her secretary on her 
knees fastening the harness of a massive strap-on 
around her hips.

"Hi," Mrs. Marshell addressed me with a radiant 
friendly smile.  Mrs. Marshell must have been at least 
six feet tall, well muscled, with a thin waist, good 
sized, apparently natural, breasts and a head of hair 
that fell in thick curls down almost to her waist.  
She was the Vice President of Public Relations, 
although she liked to call herself the Vice President 
of Pubic Affairs.  

"Hi, I'm Betty."  Her equally naked secretary 
introduced herself as she finished the last buckle and 
stood up.  In contrast to her boss, Betty looked to be 
just barely five feet tall, small breasted to the 
point of being almost boyish.  I noticed that her 
virtually nonexistent breasts were topped with silver 
dollar sized areola.  I'm talking real silver dollars 
here, Eisenhower silver dollars, not the Monopoly 
money silver dollars they're trying to get us to use 
these days, and at the center of each areola stood the 
longest, fattest nipples I'd ever seen on a woman.  
They must have been three quarters of an inch long and 
half an inch around.  I was struck with the, for me, 
strange desire to suck on them.  

"Go ahead," Mrs. Marshell said, noticing what I 
was staring at, "play with them, Betty loves it."

"It's true," Betty confirmed stepping closer to 
me and thrusting her chest out towards me, "I can get 
off just having these played with," she finished as 
she pinched and pulled firmly on her large nipples.  I 
looked back and forth between the two ladies who were 
just standing their waiting for me to act.  What the 
hell, I thought, I might as well.  I leaned over and 
flicked my tongue back and forth over Betty's closest 
nipple.  I had intended to just lick it a couple of 
times then move on to Mrs. Marshell but Betty's 
reaction to my tonguing her nipple was so dramatic 
that I thought it would be unfair to stop too quickly.  
I slowly got down on my knees without taking my mouth 
away from her nipple.  Betty wrapped her arms around 
my head and moaned loudly.

"Scoot over," Mrs. Marshell said as she knelt 
beside me and began to work on Betty's other nipple.  
Betty moved her arms so she had one around each of our 
heads.  I wasn't sure if she was holding herself up or 
making sure we didn't abandon her nipples before she 
was finished, probably a little of both.  I felt Mrs. 
Marshell's hand exploring my fanny while we continued 
to work on Betty's nipples.  

"Oh, yes, yes, yes," Betty moaned loudly as her 
body jerked thrusting her crotch in a series of fuck 
motions, "oh god yes."  As Betty's violent hip thrusts 
died down Mrs. Marshell laid back on the floor.

"Ride me," she ordered catching my hand and 
pulling me over to her.  I straddled her on my knees 
then, reaching down between my legs, held her monster 
strap-on and lowered my surprisingly wet pussy onto 
it.  Until two days ago I'd never given sex with 
another girl serious consideration and here I was 
excited almost to the point of orgasm from sucking on 
another woman's nipple.  I sank down on the plastic 
cock and moaned with open-mouthed abandon when my 
clitoris pushed against the stimulator built into its 
base.  Mrs. Marshell joined her moan to mine then 
pulled me forward until our mouths met.  Up to this 
point that day, in my previous encounters with women, 
I'd have to say that they were kissing me, but as my 
breasts pushed against hers, I kissed Mrs. Marshell, 
enthusiastically and thoroughly, exploring the insides 
of her sweet mouth just as deeply as her strap-on 
dildo was exploring my wet and eager cunt.  I have no 
idea how long I kissed her while I moved my butt up 
and down fucking myself on her plastic cock.  I had 
totally forgotten about Betty, but remembered her when 
I felt somebody behind me.  I broke off the kiss and 
looked back over my shoulder.  There was Betty 
sporting a strap-on of her own that appeared to be 
only slightly smaller than the one that already 
occupied my pussy.  She was stroking it like it was a 
real cock, and it took me a moment or two to realize 
that she was spreading lubricant over its length.  It 
didn't take a two hundred IQ to figure out what was 
going to happen next.  I had distinct memories of 
being used in both places at the same time over my 
weekend of being gang fucked by this crowed.  I 
stopped pumping myself on Mrs. Marshell's strap-on and 
held still while Betty crouched down behind me and 
pushed the head of her plastic dick against my ass 
hole.

Mrs. Marshell pulled my mouth back to hers and we 
resumed kissing while Betty slowly forced the strap-on 
into my butt.  All three of us moved in slow unison as 
each of the plastic cocks moved gently in and out of 
my body.  My lips stayed glued to Mrs. Marshell's the 
entire time.  I can't really say how long the three of 
us fucked on the deep piled carpet of Mrs. Marshell's 
office, but by the time we separated we had each had 
several orgasms, and I was worn out from all the sex 
I'd had the last few hours.  

"Why don't you take a nap on the couch," Mrs. 
Marshell suggested giving my breast a friendly 
squeeze, "I've got a meeting to go to and Betty can 
wake you up if your needed somewhere."  I stumbled 
over and stretched out on the couch.  I don't know 
what kind of meeting she was going to, but Mrs. 
Marshell left the room naked and with her strap-on 
still sticking out in front of her.  I really had some 
thinking to do before I dosed off.  I was a bit 
concerned about how much I was enjoying sex with other 
women.  Sometime after I drifted off to sleep I woke 
up enough to realize that somebody else was in the 
process of lying down on the couch with me.  

"It's just me," Betty whispered in my ear as she 
snuggled up next to me and we slept in each other's 
arms until the phone rang, summoning me elsewhere.  I 
gave Betty a quick but passionate kiss and a little 
nipple pinch and headed off for my next evaluation 
feeling rested and ready for anything. 

The rest of my day was spent in pretty much the 
same manner; either someone was performing a sex act 
with me, or I was performing a sex act with them.  
Shortly after five I made my way back down to my desk.  
In spite of my not being anywhere near it all day 
long, it was clean and neat, with all the work done.  
Debra was still at her desk, completely naked.

"I've got to work overtime."  She informed me 
with a big grin, obviously excited by the prospect.  
Somehow I didn't think it was the thought of overtime 
pay that made her so eager.  She left for her overtime 
assignment and I, not caring to make use of my 'basic 
office equipment', sat on the edge of my desk in the 
empty room.  For some reason I started feeling very 
depressed as tears began to roll down my cheeks.  I 
looked down at myself.  I was wearing a see through 
blouse that had lost all of its buttons and hung open 
exposing my naked breasts.  I had no idea what had 
happened to the push-up bra I had been wearing when I 
arrived at work that morning.  My nylons, garter belt 
and shoes were also missing.  I was long past trying 
to keep my skirt pulled down enough to cover my 
crotch.  I had no money for the bus ride home, and I 
had no idea what I was going to do.  I heard someone 
walk up behind me but didn't even have enough energy, 
or interest, to turn and see who it was.  

"Everything's going to be fine," Susanne assured 
me as she slipped onto the desk next to me and put her 
arm around my waist.  I broke down and sobbed, burying 
my head against her shoulder.

"It's OK," she repeated, using the same tone of 
voice one would use with a small child, while stroking 
my tangled hair, "everything's going to be fine."  

"I don't have anyway to get home," I said, 
sniffing back my tears.  I was appalled by how much I 
sounded like a little girl.  

"Come on," Susanne stood up and pulled me to my 
feet without taking her arm from around my waist, 
"you're going to come home with me tonight." 

"What about my stuff?"  I asked as we walked 
toward the elevator.  

"Is there anything left in that apartment that 
you really want?"  

"Only Victor," I said after a moments thought.

"Victor?"  

"Yes, Victor, my, ah, my," I suddenly felt very 
shy about Vibrating Victor.

"You mean this," Susanne asked digging Victor out 
of her purse and holding it up for me to see.  I 
couldn't believe the mixture of emotions I felt.  
Relief that Victor had not been lost; totally 
irrational embarrassment that the people who had spent 
the last three days repeatedly fucking every part of 
my body new that I owned a vibrator; finally even more 
irrational jealousy seeing Victor being handled by 
another woman.  

"Yes," I admitted softly, my face turning red, 
"that's Victor."

"Don't worry," Susanne said slipping the vibrator 
back into her purse and pulling me closer, "I have a 
favorite vibrator at home myself."  She smiled at me 
and her voice took on a conspiratorial tone, "I'll 
introduce you to Danny when we get home."  We rode the 
elevator down to the basement garage and got into her 
brand new red Corvette.  Susanne pulled from the 
garage with barely a pause and flipped her finger at a 
man who had the temerity to honk his horn at her.  

"The windows are tented, they can't really see 
us," Susanne assured me.  I relaxed a bit once I 
realized that the passing motorists could not see my 
tits hanging out of my see through blouse.  The drive 
to Susanne's apartment house took less than five 
minutes.  We parked in another underground lot and 
walked to the elevator.  Susanne seemed to be totally 
unconcerned about the possibility of being seen 
dressed like a slut in the basement of the apartment 
house.  She used a key to summon the elevator, then 
had to use the key to operate it once we were inside.  
We rode up and up and finally stopped on the third to 
last floor.  When we stepped off the elevator I saw 
only four doors.

"There are four apartments on this floor," 
Susanne stated confirming my ability to count to four.  
There are two apartments on the floor above us and 
only one apartment on the top floor." She unlocked the 
door directly across from the elevator and we walked 
into a luxurious apartment that must have cost more 
per month than I made in a year.  "The car, and the 
apartment, are perks of being the CEO's executive 
secretary," she informed me, as I looked around with 
my mouth hanging open.  She gave me a nudge and winked 
at me, "I have a better apartment than most of the 
vice presidents."  Susanne continued showing me around 
her apartment; the opulence left my mouth hanging 
open.  During the tour I noticed that in that whole 
big apartment there was only one bed.  True it was big 
enough to sleep a dozen people without bumping into 
each other.  Then she took me into the bathroom, my 
god it was almost as big as my whole apartment, with a 
sunken bath that looked to be big enough to swim laps 
in.

"Why don't you run us a bath," Susanne suggested 
as she headed back toward the bedroom, "run it as hot 
as you like."  I turned on the hot faucet to let the 
water warm up, then looked around the bathroom.  I 
found a couple of scented candles and lit them.  I 
spent several minutes, while the bath filled, trying 
to figure out which of Susanne's collection of bath 
salts and oils she would want to use.  Then I stopped.  
I suddenly realized that I was more concerned about 
pleasing Susanne than I ever had been about pleasing 
any man I'd ever dated.  I grabbed a couple of 
containers at random and, unexplainably feeling like a 
rebellious child, dumped some salts and oil into the 
bath.  I put the containers back on the glass shelf 
and turned just in time to see her walk into the 
bathroom.  Although her work cloths had hidden very 
little, I found the sight of her naked both thrilling 
and embarrassing.  

"Take those things off and get in," Susanne 
instructed as she stepped into the bath and lowered 
herself into the steaming water, "my that feels good, 
the temperature is just right."  I watched as she 
luxuriated in the hot water clinging to my scrap of a 
blouse like a security blanket.  Despite everything 
that I'd done, and everything that had been done to me 
over the last three days taking off these last two 
pieces of cloth and getting into the tub with Susanne 
seemed, to me, to be crossing a line that I might 
never be able to uncross.

"I love a hot bath after a day at work," Susanne 
continued watching my discomfort, "come on, get in.  I 
won't bite," she grinned at me and paused for the 
comedy effect, "very hard."  

"What the hell, why not."  I hadn't intended to 
say it out loud, but it came out of my mouth anyway.  
I took off the remnants of the blouse and the black 
skirt then climbed into the steaming water with 
Susanne.  She was right.  It felt wonderful.  I sat 
leaning against the opposite end of the bath from her.  
It was so big we almost had to shout at each other.

"You have a lot of potential with this company," 
Susanne informed be as we soaked in the scented water, 
"there's no reason for you not to go straight to the 
top."

"Just by being willing to let people use my 
cunt?"  The words came out both more crude and harsher 
than I meant them to be, but Susanne laughed instead 
of getting angry.

"I don't get the car and this apartment, not to 
mention a very nice salary, because I'm willing to 
fuck on demand.  Every woman in that building would 
fuck Mr. Smythe anytime he asked, why do you think I'm 
his executive secretary?"  Because he likes your pussy 
the best, was obviously not the correct answer.  I 
decided to treat it as a rhetorical question and 
waited for her to answer it, which she did.  "Because 
I'm the best executive secretary in the company."  She 
paused then added almost sadly, "if anything I end up 
fucking less than the others."

"What about Joanne?" 

"Your supervisor has gone about as far as she can 
with her skills and training.  Look," Susanne became 
very serious, "everyone in the company is willing and 
anxious to fuck.  The less aware people think that 
fucking is what it's all about and depend on that for 
advancement.  What you need to keep in mind is that 
everybody's willingness to fuck cancels out everybody 
else's and advancement becomes once more a matter of 
non-sexual training and skill."  The light was 
beginning to go on in my head.  

"I see a lot of potential in you," Susanne 
continued, "and I'm not talking about fucking 
potential.  There are a lot of bimbi out there willing 
to spread their legs, but if that's all they can do 
they will not make it to the top of this company."  
Susanne moved over to my end of the bath and put her 
arm around me.  "That's why I wanted to mentor you, to 
make sure you didn't get distracted from the brass 
ring by all the fucking."  

"Does that mean you don't want to fuck me," I 
asked sticking my lip out.  I couldn't believe what I 
was doing, my god I was actually feeling disappointed 
when I thought this woman might not want me.

"Oh yes," Susanne assured me as she pulled me 
closer, "I do intend to fuck you, and fuck you a lot."  
She brought her lips to mine and pushed her tongue 
into my mouth.  For the first time in my life I felt 
all 'mooshy' inside while a woman kissed me.  

It must have been the hot bath, right?



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