I can't believe I work with such a bunch of stupid sluts
, Megan thought to herself as she returned to the conference room an hour later. Before, there had been the daring outfits occasionally reduced to nudity as funitivities and Master's whims demanded. Pretty girls with half-covered bodies beneath sulky pouts. (Well, whenever Master wasn't looking; if they saw him looking, they smiled.)
Now, there was hardly a girl in the office that wasn't in some state of partial undress. Patty was the only one fully clothed, still wearing her clingy pantsuit that on a normal day would be scandalously tight, but today made her look practically a nun. And Patty looked like she regretted it to her core, her thighs rubbing together in disconsolate coveredness, hands idly rubbing at her breasts in frustrated lack of access.
As Megan observed from the doorway, she could see how the girls tried to keep themselves in Master's field of vision, trying to lap up his attention. Ditzy giggles were echoing down the hallway. More than a few of her colleagues were openly playing with themselves. Four women were crowding around Master's cock, engaged in a spirited discussion about how the company wasted such resources when they didn't even have a budget for blowjob training.
The room positively reeked of female arousal. And Megan should know - she'd just left a room that smelled almost as badly of it. She'd had no interest in having a woman go down on her. Indeed, the junior HR manager had never even had that one weird drunken experiment cliché in college. She just wasn't into chicks.
Yet when her lazy, shiftless, incompetent bitch of a boss had meekly asked if she'd like to be eaten out... she hadn't been able to say no. Maybe it was because she could tell Desiree didn't want to do it and she wanted to take her down a peg. Maybe it was just to enjoy a little power trip. Maybe, just a little bit, she'd thought how hot it would be for Master if he walked in on them.
He hadn't, unfortunately. So Megan had just leaned back in her manager's chair - infinitely more comfortable than her own - and tried to ignore the staticky muzak piping out of the PA system as Desiree ate her out like a woman possessed.
The junior HR rep had to hand it to her; she was intensely dedicated to obeying not just the law of her master's commands, but the spirit as well. If she ever decided to serve a master (not that she would) (probably) she hoped to have half her gusto and sticktoitiveness. She never let up, never asked for a break or indicated she'd like one. Every time Megan told her how to do it better, she'd adjusted her technique immediately.
In fact, she was so obedient, her erstwhile subordinate had gotten increasingly demanding about it. Then when her boss did nothing to object, she even started working out some of her pent-up frustration. It began with pedestrian prodding. ("Get your tongue deeper, bitch")
Before long it escalated into things that were just flimsy pretexts for abuse. ("Did I tell you to ease up on my clit, you walking talking jizz mop? Quit trying to think for yourself before you drain what little battery you have left, airhead.")
Still, that she had taken a short break was no reason for the rest of the office to just act like they had the day off. Master wasn't
their
master, after all, and they still had work to do. "Ahem."
The girls looked over to her, sheepish expressions in abundance. It was like she'd caught them playing minesweeper - only instead of looking for mines, they were looking for cocks. One in particular.
"I believe you all have jobs to do?" she said imperiously. She didn't usually feel so authoritative, but having her boss on her hands and knees doing her bidding must have jarred something loose. The girls sullenly began to shuffle out of the room, most of them not even bothering to pick up their discarded clothes. She doubted they even knew whose were whose any more. They cooed farewells to Dylan as they departed, and some even kissed him goodbye.
"I do hope you meant blowjobs, or at least handjobs," Master said, grinning at his departing bounty of T&A.
She couldn't remember why she was so grateful to him any more, but she recalled he'd done something wonderful for her. Something that had put her in his debt. So whether he was a chauvinist pig or not, that meant she had to smile through comments like that. "Not exactly. That is, unless you meant that as a command, Master...?"
He looked like he was considering it, but shrugged. "Nah. We just missed you, so the gals were nice enough to help me stave off boredom."
That stung. It was her job to entertain any masters who arrived for the day, and here she'd fucked it up. Still, not like she'd been gone all that long...
Oh shit. A glance at the clock showed she'd been gone for almost two hours. How on earth had she let her cunt-brained idiot of a boss distract her that long? She had half a mind to go back in there and take that gutterslut over her knee and spank some discipline into her.
Instead, smiled placidly at Master Dylan. "Yes, and I'm very sorry about that. I think we'll have to cancel the 1:00 event to get us back on schedule."
"That's fine. What was it, if I may ask?"
"Nothing too exciting - just a little presentation on what services we offer here. Mostly informative, with just a bit of visual aids to give it some appeal. Not Leslie's finest work, if I'm being honest."
"Oh. What sort of services
do
you offer here?" There was almost a knowing gleam in his eyes, for some reason.
Megan opened her mouth, then closed it. Damnit, she should know this. Were they importer/exporters? No, that wasn't it, they'd stopped doing that months ago. Now, they... um, they...
Well, shit. Come to think of it, she couldn't remember the office actually making anything or providing any type of service. Still, she'd sound like an absolute moron to say it aloud, so she sugar-coated the truth. "We're between major projects at the moment, Master, but we're always in search of exciting new challenges." There, vague and optimistic.
"So, how about... wait, do we need to be moving on to the next thing yet?"
"No, we've got a few minutes before we need to set up the final event."
"Groovy. So yeah, then how about you? You like working here?"
Megan shrugged. "It's all right. Pays the bills."
"Too demanding?"
"The opposite, actually. I feel like I have to go in search of something to do half the time. I have all this energy and drive to get things done, but... all too often there's nothing that needs doing."
"Oh, my little Ditzy Dezzy take on all the heavy lifting, does she?"
Megan sneered. "Hardly. To be perfectly honest, Master," as she couldn't imagine being anything but honest with him, "your slave is not much of a worker. She just tries these hare-brained schemes to improve morale and productivity that only ever set us back. What actually needs doing is all on me."
"Well you seem good at it. Organized, disciplined, serious about your work."
"Thank you, Master. I'm hoping to get promoted someday, so I want to make sure I give our corporate overlords every reason to say yes."
Dylan stroked his chin. "Corporate overlords, eh? Tell me about them."
She tried to think. The company had been sold some time ago, right before Desiree was brought in and given what should've been Megan's job. Who had they sold it to? It had been... um... Mr. Somebody? She was pretty sure it was a mister. "I, um, I actually don't know."
"Huh. Well who's in charge of the office? Never did figure that out. Your ladies are more lookers than talkers."
They
were
good-looking, she had to admit, though it still raised her hackles for just a moment. She'd been in the modeling industry herself for a time a few years back, but she'd abandoned it because she was tired of not being taken seriously for her skills, and for her brain. Degrading women by valuing their beauty over their capability was a big pet peeve of hers.
"Oh easy, that's... um..." Shit, who was it? Mr. Sinclaire had been the manager before Desiree's cleansweep of the old folks and the men (and Sinclaire had been both). After... was there a manager? "...that's nobody, really. We have department heads and all, and Desiree certainly throws her weight around more than a bit, but we don't actually have a strong central leader."
Which was a shame. Having a single dominant person in her life - in her work life, that is - sounded very appealing of late.
"Yeah, it's hard for me to imagine my little Desiree calling the shots for anybody. Still, seems like it's working on everybody. Err, for everybody. Whatever. At this point, why bother being coy, right?"
She had no clue what he meant, so just smiled and agreed. Then she saw the time. "Oh! If you'll excuse me, Master, I have our final funtivity to set up. Though this one isn't really fun - it's for philanthropy."
"Oh?"
"Yeah - we're having an auction!"
This had been the one event in the day's itinerary that Megan, and indeed, the rest of the office, had been genuinely looking forward to. No more skimpy outfits, no more standing on display, no more getting groped and sucked on by strange men. Just a simple auction, the benefits going to entirely to charity.
Except, now that Master Dylan had made a few last-minute changes... well, she just hoped the girls would be supportive of the new direction.
As the last few girls took their spots - only Desiree and Sally were gone, the former eating out the latter - Megan took her place at the podium. "All right everyone, thanks for coming to today's auction." They applauded politely. "Great, great. Now I wanted to let you know that there's been some small shift in the items being auctioned, as a special request from today's guest, Master Dylan. I know we were all looking forward to some of the items promised, but I guarantee that these will be every bit as exciting!"
The smiles vanished. They'd been promised a bid on a weekend getaway at a resort. Spa gift certificates. An espresso machine. A ten-day cruise. The rug was being pulled out from under them - and was about to get even harder to bear.
