End Of Probation

Sitting in this uncomfortable office chair, in a room with three women, across the desk of the curly haired blonde in her mid 40s makes me sweaty, my mouth is dry, I actively have to stop me leg from bouncing. I've been dreading this moment for two months. And I don't have a good feeling about it.

"So... How would you describe your time here with us?"

"I... uhm... quite good? I mean... Yeah. I really like it here. And I think I did a good job."

My eyes wander to the woman leaning against the windowsill behind her boss, early 50s, brunette, really good looking for her age. If she wasn't frowning so hard right now. I gulp.

"I mean... More or less. Given how I have little experience in this field of work and have to kinda learn the ropes all over..."

"Mhm. And you think you did well, considering?"

I nod.

"Would it surprise you that your direct superior for the last two months disagrees with that assessment?"

My head sinks and I shake it.

"I mean... sure, I'm still making mistakes, but I Have gotten better. I'm getting used to the requirements and regulations and all..."

"Your superior reports your case work on the files is faulty about 50% of the time, right?"

She looks at the older brunette who nods.

"Which, sure is better than at the start but still..."

"It's just minor mistakes I'm still making, though. And I have been only learning the ropes for two months. Three weeks of which, my superior was on sick leave, so..."

"You're blaming her for not not teaching your properly, then?"

I quickly shake my head again - she's been working here for years, there's really no point in confronting her on that, that's not getting me the job. And even I it did, I would have to work under her, then. Not a good start.

"No. Of course not."

"Your work on the computer is even worse, she reports"

"I didn't even get my own access to the system in the probation period and only worked with this program for about an hour during..."

She interrupts me.

"And when you were confronted with your shortcomings you hardly gave any satisfying feedback. Which I can see now, as well."

"I... I'm introverted, I'm, not really good at... you know... communicating. Which kinda seems to have lead to misunderstandings....."

The boss nods.

"Well. You Do have to communicate with your superiors using big boy words everywhere, right? Not too good conditions work here, if you can't talk to your supervisor. Is it because she's a woman, maybe?"

I shake my head determinately.

"No. Not at all. I love working under women..."

"Hm. That's nice to hear, at least. I like a man who knows his place. Anyone else has anything to say?"

The third woman in the room - some years younger than me, athletic, black - shakes her head. She wears a black leather skirt, a little too short for an office environment, allowing me a good look at her shapely legs - knees and a bit of upper thighs included. If I wasn't so distracted by this talk, I would really enjoy the view.

"He did some errands for me, but mostly down in the archives, so I didn't get to see him much. Can't complain about anything he did for me, though, he seems quite diligent and obedient. Did what I told him to do without any mistakes."

The brunette scoffs.

"Sorting files and searching for records isn't much of a challenge, is it? Seems he's not too bright."

The boss nods.

"And if I had a full time job in which you could to that all day, I'd be happy to employ you. You do seem made for menial tasks like that. I admit you aren't lazy, always were on time, never missed a day. You're diligent, reliable. But unfortunately not too smart. Or attentive when doing more complicated work. Didn't do any overtime either, did you? Just doing what you're told. A worker drone. No offence, but this job requires someone with more -- commitment."

I feel quite offended but shrug my shoulders. Not much I can say, they have clearly made up their mind about me, right or wrong.

"So as it is..."

"What about that other thing?"

The black woman raises her voice.

"I think he'd be good at that. Sounds like exactly the kind of work where his strengths come into play."

The boss frown and sighs.

"Listen -- I can see where you come from, but that's -- way to unconventional. It could get us into some trouble if he chooses to get all sensitive about it and report us. You know how men are - no sense of humour about such things."

I clear my throat.

"You know I really need a job, right? I'm not sensitive at all."

She looks at me dubiously.

"You have been unemployed for quite a while now, hm?"

The black woman chuckles

"One of the reasons I think he's ideal - apart from being quite cute, he's desperate!"

I blink. Did I mishear that? Highly unprofessional. But also... I literally just told them I'm not to sensitive when it comes to my workplace, so let's not make a fuss.

"He sure is. On both accounts."

Even the sceptical frown of my superior dissipates. A little. OK. I feel a little excoriated here -- humiliated, even, but... whatever it takes, right?

"I really like working here. If I get a chance in an other position in which... maybe my... shortcomings..."

I feel the blood flow into my head. I don't think the accusations of my failing at my work are fair, but if I have to Kowtow for this, I will.

".. my shortcomings are less -- relevant. And I can... learn the ropes in a lower ranking position?"

The women share knowing looks.

"I kinda like the way you think."

The boss smiles at me.

"Your experience with office work may have been - suffering from your long unemployment. Let's talk about your private life a little, shall we?"

Now it's my turn to frown, but I brace myself. Whatever. It. Takes.

"Uhm. Sure..."

"You're not married, I remember that correctly from our first interview?"

"Right."

"Girlfriend?"

I shake my head.

"Boyfriend?"

I stare at her. For way too long.

"Don't worry, we don't judge."

"I.. no... no relationship."

"But you are straight?"

"Yeah... yes, I'm into women..."

I can't believe I'm having this conversation with three women I've only known for two months.

"I can't believe a good-looking - if a little slow - man like you doesn't have someone."

"As I said. Uhm... Introvert."

I shrug.

"I don't get out much, to be honest. Don't meet many women."

"Getting a job might be a good way to change that, right?"

The black woman chuckles -- I definitely blush again, hot a as my face feels.

"I... I guess..."

"But you DO have sexual experiences? You're not a virgin?"

"N... no.. I mean... I'm not... a womanizer, but I've had sex! Some..."

Understanding nods.

"Sure. I'm sure you're experienced enough..."

I look around, butterflies in my stomach. Where the hell is this going? Experienced enough for what?

The women again share their knowing, almost conspiratorial looks.

"OK, this is unconventional. And we need to to keep quite about his, whether we come to agreement or not. Should you decide to not accept our offer, we may be able to recompense your for your -- discretion..."

OK, this is doing it.

"This almost sounds like you want me to do something illegal. I don't need the job that much, I won't..."

The boss raises her hands.

"No, no definitely nothing illegal, don't worry. Just... maybe... well, some might consider it immoral. A little - unprofessional. Possibly."

Now I'm curious.

"An indecent proposal?"

The oldest woman chuckles.

"Not like in the movie. We don't have a million bucks, just a regular salary."

"Minimum wage to be exact", the boss confirms.

"You'd be filed as unskilled worker. Even though we hope you do have the skills it takes, but you can't learn those in vocational school..."

More chuckles from the other women.

"OK... let's... not beat around the bush, what is it that you want me to do?"

The women share one last look before the boss nods towards the black woman.

"Your idea, you start his particular job interview!"

She nods, gets up from her chair to sit on the edge of her boss' desk and pulls up her black leather skirt. My eye widen, my mouth goes dry like the Sahara. I can't take my eyes off of her white lacy panties. They sit tight on her crotch, forming a camel toe over her lips.

"There are a lot of busy women in this company -- you may have figured out the boss paid special attention to only hiring female management staff after founding it. And all of us ladies are -- under a lot of stress. We love our jobs and the work for a female lead company but it takes its toll. Little time for a private life, our relationships usually don't go together well with long work hours, so additionally to the stress of it all, we don't get the relaxation we deserve!"

Nods from the other two.

"Which is where you come into play, little man."

I swallow hard at this naming but don't object. I feel - way to confused to say anything.

"We need someone whose job it is to take care of our well-being. Our comfort."

I clear my throat. The idea is beginning to settle and even though I still feel HIGHLY uncomfortable talking about such stuff to these women I hardly know.

"How about... you know. Taking care of it for yourself or someth..."

"Jerking off in the toilets?"

The black woman grins and the other two join her chuckling.

"That's more a of a guy thing, don't you think? Quite undignified for strong women in leadership positions, no? Nah. We -- and by we I mean all the women in this company -- agree very much that we need someone to make us come. Whenever we want!"

I see her eyes wander to my crotch and I hear her chuckle.

"I can see your dick likes the idea."

Can't deny that -- sitting here has gotten more uncomfortable in the last minutes, and my cock has pitched a tent in my pants.

"But you better forget about THAT part of your body again, immediately, little one!"

I frown.

"This isn't about your pleasure. You won't get to stick that dick in any of us. Ever. We know quite well how you men work. If you're allowed five minutes of your own fun, you're unusable for the rest of the day. You'll have to satisfy more than 20 women, 8 hours a day, 5 days a week if you take this job. You think your little pecker would be up to that?"

I gulp. Well. I shake my head.

"No, Ma'am."

She chuckles.

"At least you're honest. Good start. And no one here want to see it anyway, trust me. So you'll you keep it in your pants while at work. ALWAYS! The one and only tool we need you to use here is your pretty mouth. You know how to eat pussy?"

I nod. I actually love doing it. Like - a lot. Love the taste, love the women's reaction. Don't get to do it nearly as often as I like. I should probably communicate all of that, but my mouth is too dry.

"Yes, Ma'am", is all I can say.

"We shall see!"

She smiles but her boss interjects.

"We shall see if he understands and agrees. He IS a bit slow after all. So to summarize: You DO grasp the implications of this, right? Your only job would be to be available and usable for cunnilingus for the female staff of the company - all of them -- for the whole of every workday. You'll be paid minimum wage, the usual health insurance and holidays for an unskilled worker apply. And of course you'd not be able to talk about the real job you do here to anyone outside the company."

I nod. Is this even real? I am offered a job as a sex toy to powerful business women? All I'd have to do, all day long is eat pussy? I nod, before I wake up and find out this is just a dream.

"I want the job!"

The brunette chuckles.

"Let hope you're better with your mouth than with a computer, little man!"

I still feel treated unfairly -- and for a second a thought passes my mind. She never really gave me a chance to prove myself in the job I applied for. And yet they Did act as if they would let me try, despite my long unemployment and lack of experience. Where they just testing me? Observing if I am - how did they put it -- diligent and obedient? Was I never supposed to get any other job than -- company sex toy? I shake my head. Be that as it may... Now I got a chance to THIS job and I will...

The black woman makes a commanding gesture and I nod. Move closer between her wide spread legs and push her white lacy panties to the side. Her thighs are strong and muscular, it feels like they could crush my head -- I feel vulnerable, helpless -- clearly the lowest ranking one in this room. Her pussy is clean shaven, her clit already swollen, poking out of its sheath as if to welcome me. I kiss it, lick it, then begin to suck it. My cock stirs and gets rock hard in my pants, making me fidget in my chair. Better get used to that feeling, I don't think I'll be allowed to relief it any time soon. Or ever in my eight hour work days.

It twitches even harder as the black woman begins to moan, softly, then louder under my caresses. I never got as much practice as I wanted to, but I always got quite positive feedbacks for my cunnilingus skills. As a matter of fact, if there was a socially accepted way to bring these skills up when first meting a woman - or in a job interview - I might have a lot more experience, I gather. Or a job. I do think I'm quite god at this.

I let my tongue lap down, penetrate the large, swollen inner lips that gate the opening of her pink grotto, enter the woman's sanctum and taste her juices on my tongue, sweet, salty, a little smoky and a hint of citrus. Delicious. I had almost forgotten how good women taste. And if I perform well here, I may get to taste a Lot of women from now on. The thought motivates me. Enormously. I return to the clit, kiss it again, take it between my lips and let the tip of my tongue play over it, making the black woman moan, scream and finally come with an intense eruption that I lap up hungrily as good as I can.

"That looked -- promising?"

The blonde boss looks at her employee who, quite out of breath, nods.

"VERY promising. I don't think even you will have anything to complain about these kills of his!"

She looks at the brunette 50-something with a grin.

"I'll be the judge of that. If I may?"

The boss nods, and the brunette takes the black woman's place in front of my face, raises her brown, knee length corduroy skirt and wordlessly grabs the back of my head and to pull it between her legs.

I just barely get enough time to push her beige high waist panties aside - she has bushy, untrimmed pubic hair, beginning to turn grey more than the hair on her head. Her thighs are showing her age a little - slight cellulite, but her pussy between them is juicy, open, inviting. Menopause has hit her clearly but has not done anything to diminish her sex drive, it seems.

I do my duty, diligently like a god little worker drone. Her lips are bigger, floppy, her aroma more musky and less sweet - aged like fine wine. But her pussy is beautiful -- and delicious.

I immediately go for the lips this time, kiss and suck on them, lick between them and into her hole. Her clit enjoys it, rises up, engorges and invites me to take care of it, which I diligently do. I lap it like a thirsty dog. She takes a little longer, but not much, and her orgasm is not any weaker than her colleague's. She looks at me with a smile. The warmest gesture I got from her in two months. Seems she finally warmed up to me. Or at least finds me useful.

"Well, well. That was better than anything you ever managed to achieve in this office, I admit. Still far from being perfect, but I guess I can teach you This a lot better, young man! I'm looking forward to train you. This time, I really do!"

The patronizing tone of her voice should anger me -- never satisfied with my work, this one, but it doesn't. I feel a warmth rise inside of me instead. The praise of being called a decent pussy-licker by strict her is doing things to me I never expected. I feel a pride in my achievements -- professional pride. For a job well done. Or at least adequately.

"OK, I take faith in my employees' judgement of you. Guess we found a work that suits you more. On your knees between a strong woman's legs. Your chances to get this job look good, young man."

The boss looks at me and smiles.

"Which of course doesn't free you from proving to ME your qualifications as well!"

I nod.

"Of course, Ma'am."

She doesn't move - boss' privilege, I guess - so I stand up, walk behind her desk and go to my knees in front of her. I look up...

"I want to thank your for giving me this opportu..."

She groans.

"Yes, yes, yes. Now you become talkative, little introvert. Talking is no longer in your job description -- we want you to be seen, not heard. You admitted talking isn't your strong suit, I'm sure there are Much better ways to use your pretty little mouth to thank me. So shut up and use it for something more productive!"

She pulls her skirt up -- in the back of my head I wonder if I ever saw the three of them wearing skirts in the office. Seems like they were prepared. Seems like this talk was going into this direction form the start.

She's not wearing panties, strengthening my suspicion that she was expecting me to end down here today. Her blond pubic hear is neatly trimmed into a triangle, her pink lips invitingly open and ready, like all her employees she's more than ready for my mouth. I see the wedding band glint golden on her hand as she grabs my head -- I know her husband is a stay at home dad with her two kids and the dog. Should I feel guilty about eating out his wife?

But I don't have time for thoughts - or any feelings other than arousal and obedience - the aroma of the third exited pussy in a few minutes entrances me, wipes my mind clear of an reasonable thought. I'm becoming a sex toy through and through, my already pent up arousal driving my tongue furiously into her slit, between her pink lips, lapping up her tasty juices -- slightly tangy, a little like ginger, in addition to the sweet, musky and salty notes. Might be my favourite taste, so far. But I would have to try the others again, to be certain. I'm sure I will! I wonder how long it will take me until I can recognise every woman in this company by taste.

I kiss her clit, gently, but passionately - I want to express the gratitude she didn't allow to put into words while at the same time -- of course - impress the big boss even more than her underlings.

She takes longer than the other two combined -- but not because she doesn't enjoy it -- I have the feeling she's a woman very much in control of her own body. Her arousal clearly builds up, slowly but steadily as I lick and suck her clit -- I feel it pulsating and trembling inside my mouth, feel her juices run down to her chair as I dare to put a finger inside of her -- wasn't part of the initial job description, but her self control gives me time to improvise and she doesn't object to the initiative I show.

Eventually, with a long drawn animalistic moan, she comes, squirting into my mouth. I drink it all up, thirstily -- I never tasted anything as delectable as these three women in my life.

I look up to her. My cock throbs in my pants like crazy, but I don't dare to touch it. Not on my work hours. She looks down. Smiles, Nods.

"Good. Really good. You're sure you don't have much experiences with that, little one? Quite a natural, then. I think your talents would be wasted sorting files and hunching over a keyboard. Very much wasted. You got the job. Go to HR, the contract is waiting for you."

Already? They didn't have time to inform HR I agreed to this - arrangement. Well. No doubt any more whether this whole thing was premeditated. I was trapped by a bunch of strong confident women into becoming their corporate cunnilingus toy. Doomed to spend my life on my knees, servicing their wet, greedy pussies as a heteronomous sex drone. Oh cruel fate!