I'd fixed the leak through the ceiling and opened a desk drawer to make sure no water had got in and had such a huge shock. There were photos of someone identical to me with two naked women all over him, wearing a grin like a zombie. This guy had a very prominent erection and a tattoo of a bobcat identical to the one I'd done on myself! Tastefully, I have to add. And by my hand alone. The two women were my employers! Obviously it had to be me, but how? And when? My face looked like a waxwork doll and my erection looked ready to explode.
People call me Bobcat. I was 22 then and the live-in odd job man at a private finishing school for spoilt brat young women of 19 plus that can't take any further education. That might sound like a good job for a horny guy like me but, it wasn't. I was the only male in the building and the owners made sure that I had zero chance of being alone with any of their 'young ladies'. Anyway, most of them didn't treat me with basic human respect and so I just used to look on them as arrogant eye candy. I didn't grow up like they did. I don't mean wealth, though that's obvious, I mean culture, family, language and above all attitude. I was brought up to respect myself and be proud of all I did. That means how I treat everybody I meet, friend or stranger. My ma's mum, the only grandparent I ever met, used to say to me "if you can't respect yourself when you're looking from the inside, nobody will respect you when they are looking from the outside". I never truly understood it but it became my magic incantation that I'd remember at least once a day.
I closed the drawer and gathered my tools, thinking hard about how the pictures could have been faked? The room is part of the living space of Betty and Margot who run the college. Both are around thirty-five, strict on discipline, but never showing any interest or hinting at anything sexual or playful with me. Sometimes I sensed that they checked out my body when I wasn't looking. I work out a lot. I like my body. I look good, big muscles, shiny skin. I do deliberately wear tight clothes in this women-only environment. Why not? I get lustful looks off some of the young women who sometimes become a bit breathless. Whatever they do, it usually has a similar effect on me. It makes me horny and I think I show it and they know it.
My bosses were obviously into sex games in front of a camera but, how did they get those images of me? Hidden cameras in my rooms along the corridor? But how would they get me to pose like that? And that stupid grin? I couldn't ever look like that. The whole thing would be a huge editing project!
We always had a scheduling meeting on Friday evenings after I'd finished my work and made plans for the coming week. After it, one of them would say "we all deserve a cocktail" and usually start with the Margot's Marvel bottle, great taste and a real energy fizz. Then it would be Betty's Buzz, also great and really relaxing. They had them too, so they weren't drugged though they had a high alcohol content! But, perhaps mine were spiked? That must be it! Perhaps they turned me into a zombie? But, why did I have no memory of it?
I realised that I could never actually remember leaving their rooms on a Friday evening. Whenever I woke up, late on Saturday morning, I was fuzzy in the head and couldn't really remember what had happened the previous night. I thought I'd had too much drink and used to hope I hadn't said anything I shouldn't. I also had some very sexual dreams involving them both, so could that possibly be my memory kicking in? When I woke on Saturdays, as well as being unaware of what I might have done, I was always very aroused and I used to lie there stroking my dick, thinking that it seemed to be growing bigger, getting harder and doing both more often. Was that the cocktails? Mind you, I think I've always had those feelings since I realised I was a sexual being. Especially on those mornings when I can lie in bed for a little while and remember some nice times in my life.
I actually began to feel quite excited about the thought of being used as a sex toy, especially now, after seeing how good my employers looked naked. But, I'd prefer to have memories rather than hazy dreams. The good news was that today was Friday and my work was almost done.
* * * *
"We deserve a cocktail." said Betty. At last! The meeting was over and I started to watch both of them very carefully, especially as Margot prepared her Marvel. I'd washed and changed, putting on clothes that emphasised and revealed parts of my body. I could see that it worked because I kept noticing their eyes quickly moving away from my crotch and my biceps and from my very defined six-pack. They were getting hot! And so was I. Three full glasses were put on the tray and came to me first. I took the whole tray, as if to help, and offered it to Betty, turning the tray casually as I went. She took a glass without any special care or attention, hardly looking. I therefore knew they must all be the same, but I still watched how Margot behaved when I took her drink back to her. Again she was totally relaxed. We downed them and I felt that familiar warm buzz reaching slowly from my belly to my balls.
I watched discreetly as Betty mixed her speciality I noticed that she seemed particularly careful, perhaps a little secretive? When she'd finished, she smiled sweetly at Margot, who then picked up a glass in each hand and came over to me.
She laughed and said "Betty's Buzz for Bobcat". She handed me one glass as she put the other to her lips, drank and said "Delicious, as ever". So this was the zombie potion for me and I had to get rid of it somehow!
As I stood there holding my glass I noticed the way that they were both looking at me, waiting for me to drink. They had drunk theirs and made appreciative noises but were watching me. It was almost as if they'd stopped breathing.
I pointed up behind them and said "We didn't put 'fix water damage' on the list" and as they turned to look at the stained ceiling, I quickly tipped the drink onto one of the houseplants and, as they turned back, brought the empty glass down from my mouth, licked my lips and said "that is so good!". It worked. They motioned me to a seat and both then acted like I wasn't there. I didn't know how long the drug would usually take to affect me. All I knew was that it could give me a very odd grin. I let my face relax, put on a smile and stared ahead.
They ignored me for about five minutes and then said "Bobcat?"
I acted like I hadn't heard and kept staring.
"Bobcat, stand up."
I stood up. They smiled, fetched and set up camera, tripods and a video camera. I began to feel so excited. I had thought it was only photos. I now saw they were shooting their very own zombie sex film and I was a star.
"Bobcat, take off all your clothes"
