The women's nameplates were attached to their wall of their cubicles, so I knew who they were before they knew me. Marge and Justine looked up in shock as I sashayed slowly toward their desks, my titties exposed. Marge reached for her phone, screaming, "Call Security! And quick!"
I waved my finger in the air back and forth. "No, no, Marge." And I stepped into Justine's cubicle. She was frozen in place, looking trapped. "Don't worry, Justine. No one's calling Security this morning." And I knelt down next to her desk so we were at eye level, but Justine's eyes were focused on my huge, erect nipples.
"Hi there, Sweetie. I am Girlie Girl, and I am here to teach you how to have fun at work. Are you interested?"
Marge flew out of her cubicle, put out both hands and braced herself at the opening of Justine's. "No! No! We're not doing this! Tell her, Justine! Tell her we will quit first!"
I placed one hand over Justine's white-knuckle grip on the corner of her desk, and reached my hand out to Marge and said, ever so sweetly, "Marge, there are three well-qualified women in my circle of friends who are waiting for you to walk out of here, just so they can have your job. You will lose your seniority, your benefits, and -- most important of all -- you will lose your only opportunity to finally enjoy your job as a woman...with complete and utter respect, while finally having the best time you've never had before. Are you going to let that pass you by, again?"
I slowly stood up, wriggling my alabaster ass -- and in my four-inch heels, I towered over both of these women. I spread my legs and lifted the front of my ever-so-short skirt. Neither of them spoke. I was certain they were still in shock at my exposure, my calm, my smile and my positive energy. With painted nails, I spread my cunt lips open and fingered my clit.
"This, Ladies, rules my life."
I inserted one finger inside.
"And this is Precious, my perfect cunt."
I withdrew my finger and waved the aroma in the air. "It is this subtle fragrance that drives men mad with desire. You have it, too."
Ever so gently, I guided Marge (her mouth open, with only little tiny puffs of air coming out), into the chair in the corner of Justine's cubicle. I bent over the corner of Justine's desk, laying my titties at her fingertips. I spread my legs, lifted the back of my skirt, and displayed my beautiful alabaster ass.
I looked over my shoulder at the two women. Their faces were red. They didn't realize they were holding their breaths.
"Justine. Marge. Please. Exhale slowly. Inhale through your nose. Exhale slowly again."
They could not take their eyes off my beautiful ass.
"This is my playground. When men fuck me from behind, Ladies, I call it 'Girlie Girl style'...and now, the men know to call it that, too. The men love to fuck my Precious cunt in this fashion. I am not a dog. You are not dogs. The men are not dogs. And when we really release all our fears, all of our imposed inhibitions, and all of the indoctrination we have received since childhood, we are finally able to admit just how much we really love to fuck, and to be fucked.
"And, Ladies, this is your time to learn these things. With freedom, with abandon...and very, very excellent pay.
"I urge you...I challenge you...to expose your titties -- no matter what size they are, and to free your cunt to feel and experience everything for which it was created."
Marge stood up, quickly. "I HATE that word, cunt. It's disgusting!"
"Only if you allow it to be, Marge. It is a choice."
"But...but...my husband calls me a cunt every time he gets mad at me!"
I stepped forward to put my arms around her. She fell into them and began crying.