Her mind had spent almost the whole night on tackling the problem and had come up with a potential answer. It was an option, certainly. Quick and easy and would definitely make the required money... guaranteed in fact.
That's what the company wanted and their first and only port of call was to task her with it. They didn't care about how it was done, just as long as it was. She had made promises and assured them of her complete focus on the task in hand. They, in turn, had made contractual promises to the charity which they had to keep.
She dare not let them down.
Her ideas so far had yet to yield fruit. The raffle had been a damp squib. No one had been remotely interested in winning a bottle of wine or box of biscuits and the takings so far had been minimal. The draw was literally a fortnight away and they had only sold a couple of tickets.
The carwash using cheap local student labour also had been, there was no other word for it, a wash out. Drivers of a couple of cars quibbled about the fiver they were asked for and there had been a complaint about the lacklustre job by another customer.
She could imagine the shaking heads from her staff at each of these failures, though they had tried to limit their true feelings in front of her.
Then the cake bake had cost more with ingredients than it made back in revenue during their sale. The cakes had not looked appetising on the plates and she could not blame everyone for suddenly saying that they were dieting.
Another fail.
The fundraiser was looking to be a complete disaster and a failure for her personally. She had been far too quick with agreeing to organise it all with her self-belief obviously surpassing the funds and enthusiasm available.
Which brought her to the option she had come up with in the night. The option she had always expected somehow, in her heart-of-hearts.
Checking her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she had completed her morning ablutions and was now readying herself for work. She sighed and regarded herself critically.
It had been six months since she had last used her body to pay a debt and that had gone very well. It was a memory that she kept fresh in her mind, and especially on those cold evenings when she needed a calming personal moment.
She had almost felt an addict, coming down from a fix when it had all ended. Her original reluctance to begin the road to recovering staff morale was now long forgotten after the excitement of the weeks during her total and utter compliance to their every debauched expectation of her.
Taking a step back from the mirror, she looked for the lift on her breasts. They were still voluptuous and pert, desirable and much more than a handful; still had long beautiful hair that could be teased attractively around her face. Still a good body.
They had many debauched expectations too at the time. She had been their total slut for several weeks. Even now, seeing the desks she had been bent over so often caused her palpitations and she could barely enter the staff canteen area without her face flushing at the memory of her exhibitionism.
Stroking her hand down over her stomach and into her thighs, she nodded appreciatively at the curve of her body. Still in shape, girl. The Summer holidays hadn't taken too much of a toll on her waistline. Parting her legs, she checked her pussy with her fingertips before leaning down to look. Kept shaved, her lips parted instinctively at the touch, offering the soft pink tongue of her inner labia to protrude quickly and willingly.
Was her body already thinking about her new idea? The sensation of feeling warm and moist between her legs always betrayed her true desires and though this idea had only just come to mind, her body was already agreeing to it.
Like an addict with temptation being too much to handle and subdue, she was craving her next fix.
The front reception held the table of raffle prizes, and though she had tried to make it look an exciting prospect to purchase tickets, no matter how much tinsel, glitter and signage was used, it still looked pathetic and uninspiring.
She had been in a tougher spot before with the lost bonuses, and the whole team had rallied when she had offered her body as compensation. The idea she was toying with now would effectively do the same thing again. But would they remember the fun they had with her or would she be something that had been done already and not have a powerful enough desire to repeat? Would she be a draw or would they think her as old news? She would have to find a way to incentivise them!
It was almost constantly on her mind when she had to interact with any of them now. Knowing that she had serviced their cocks and pussies repeatedly, and put on intimate displays of her own masturbation for their entertainment on several days, was a major turn on. She tried to hide her emotions of course, but she still received knowing smiles from some of them. The fit delivery driver for example, though he was always smiling, always had a special smile for her.
Since then of course she had tried to regain an officious control of the office, keeping herself aloof as far as they were concerned anyway, as much as possible.
To make the new scheme work, she had to find a way of reminding them that the prim, austerely dressed woman in the main office was slutty and worthy enough to buy tickets for.
It was not good enough to sell the use of her body and not make any revenue. This needed thought; marketing was key. She didn't want to just give herself away.
She couldn't necessarily sit herself on the table to advertise every day but maybe she could put pictures of herself on it instead?
Slightly humiliating obviously, but the numbers of people talking about her would grow and make it all worth while.
The bottle of wine was going to be the main prize, but maybe that could be relegated to a fifth location and she could make up the first four places instead?
Fourth prize could be a hand job at the winner's time of choosing. She held her right hand up to her eyes and checked out it's condition. The skin was very soft and her nails had a decent length, though they did need a little manicuring and painting up. She smiled as she thought how much a man liked having a soft delicate hand playing with his cock. Even a woman, if she won, would appreciate someone else's painted nails parting her lips and stroking her clit for her.
That would handle fourth place, in a manner of speaking. She could have a picture taken of her hand, perhaps holding a dildo or a cock if she could get one of the men to step up? She imagined the simple writing beneath the picture stating: 'IOU, one hand-job', and smiled to herself. She needed that manicure first though and a willing cock.
Should she specify where and when or would it be a bigger draw for them to be able to claim their prize whenever they wanted?
Third prize would obviously be a blowjob. Pursing her lips in the mirror, she watched the expression it gave her face. It made it look a bit needy and longing, as though actually desperate for oral comfort rather than alluring. She tried a couple of other poses and soon had the 'come hither' look she wanted with her lips slightly parted giving a hint of her tongue. If she lip-lined and glossed, she could make her lips almost look like a butterfly. That would sell, surely?
She smiled to herself and recalled the number of blowjobs she had had to give during the bonus debacle. She had swallowed so much spunk at the time it had almost become a food group for her. It was surprising how quickly and easily she had gotten used to the taste of cum. How she could almost tell what they had been eating. Which men produced more than others and began to see a notable softness on her skin where it had repeatedly lain and dried after a facial.
Applying her lipstick now for work, she wondered about a picture of that option for the table. Again, she could have the words written and ready to explain, and maybe she could actually kiss the laminated picture to leave lipstick residue. She would ask the girl at reception to take that picture, as she was used to her selfies. Goodness, she took enough of them.
She tried again and got the sultry expression she thought looked best. All she needed was full make up, dark eyes perhaps and a good angle.
Second prize could be full sex. She had been fucked by most of them anyway at one time or another, though there were a couple of new employees on the staff list now.
How could that look on the picture? Maybe lying down and naked or in stockings, with her leg crooked and a patting hand on the ground beside her. Perhaps wearing her heels too? That had been a theme last time, especially for the men. Something about keeping her off balance and girly.
Which left first prize.
What could she offer that would be the big draw? That all the staff would want, male or female? Something that they hadn't already had from her and would stimulate thorough ticket sales.
Well, that answer had been the result of her consciousness mulling it over during the night. She thought she had the answer which might appeal to them all. It was an idea which had begun to formulate in the early hours and which she was now ready to run with.
She could offer a full 24 hours of sexual slavery to the winner!
It would mean that she would be on hand 247 from the moment she got to their house until the moment she left, irrespective of whom else was in their home. It was no good to start demanding stipulations, people got bored with that. It was no good assuming that the person with the winning ticket would live alone. It was even more probable that the partner had no prior knowledge of how they had received their bonus all those months ago, or that she was a practicing slut.
Hmmm. That could be tricky to explain. Maybe she should say that she would also remain mute and leave any tricky explanations to the winner?
She could wear a mask to disguise herself, but if the winner was taking a sex slave back to their house, their spouse would have to know about it. They would be totally aware that she was their partner's boss and there was no disguising her without a full hood.
That had been an idea with just eye and mouth holes. Complete mute anonymity. Just a series of willing holes for use and a naked body for abuse. The thought turned her on even now and she fought to stay in the moment.
How many spouses would tolerate that without many questions? That wouldn't be her problem.
