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Chapter 5: Peaches' Interview
Some bosses love to optimize. They have an almost religious conviction that each person has a perfect role, and each role has a perfect way it can be filled, and they spend all their time trying to fit the right pieces into the right slot.
Donna was nearly the opposite of that. In her view, the more different things an employee tries, the better they'll be at all of them.
Her unconventional management style originated from an equally idiosyncratic past. She'd tried everything before joining the organization, from non-profit work, to shady investment firms, to glamour photography, to a stint as the madame for one of the most profitable brothels in Vegas, where she was first approached by the Org.
Even her presentation was unconventional. She was just under six feet tall, broad-shouldered, curvaceous, and strong, with short, kinky hair, and a fashion style her associates dubbed Porn C-Suite. Right now, she was wearing a thousand dollar skirt suit and a push-up bra, with several buttons on the tailored blouse unbuttoned halfway down to show off her assets. It wasn't just about showing off -- in the strange business she was in, it was a surprisingly practical solution. To her underlings, she still looked like the boss. To the building's more reluctant occupants, she looked like a very intimidating top.
Now, as the regional head of operations, it wasn't uncommon for her to drift back and forth between roles, overseeing acquisition check-in and training assignments one day, sitting in on client management another day, and even spending some time in the lab, working on special projects.
For an extremely illegal organization, this had benefits and drawbacks. Having someone who knew how it all worked smoothed the way through unexpected situations and emergencies, but it also made her a target. From the point of view of the shadowy senior management team, nearly everyone who worked at the Org knew enough to be a threat, but few knew as much as Donna.
And while she was a good manager who took good care of her people, having her fingers in every pie beneath her meant that she was part of most decisions, including the ones that senior people didn't like. She knew the danger and she took it in stride by being tremendously useful, never showing weakness, and letting her superiors imaginations run wild about what trouble she'd already prepared for them, should they ever turn on her.
There was a knock at the door.
"Hey Donna, have you got a moment?"
"Yeah, sure. As long as this isn't about another special project."
"Huh...." Mel said, opening the door. "I guess it can wait if-"
"Oh Jesus, I was joking, Mel. Guess it's steam engine time around here. What have you got for me?"
Mel smiled, and motioned in her companion. Behind her, Bronx walked in, guiding Peaches with one hand on her ass and the other on her leash.
The girl had made an early escape attempt, and was considered clever enough to warrant extra security when she came in. As a result, she was required to be bound, masked. and gagged whenever she was escorted outside of secure training areas.
Bronx would have simply put her in some nice, sturdy, leather tack -- either a harness and blindfold, or a full sensory deprivation hood -- but Mel understood Donna, and Donna appreciate her making an effort to dress Peaches up before bringing her in for inspection.
She'd recently had the girl custom fitted in the workshop with a full latex mask. It was painted to resemble her face, with cute, oversized eyes, with little sparkly stars trailing from the outer corners, built-in tubes fitted in her nostrils, and a reinforced cutout for her lips to fit through, showing off her substantial fillers, pressed out further by a gag strapped to little clasps built into the mask. The thick mask prevented her from opening her mouth further, so the with gag, it was held in a silly little "O" of surprise, made more comical by the duck lips. Her hair was in pigtails, pulled through grommeted holes high on the sides of the mask.
Around her neck was a thick, peach-colored collar with her name and a little dog tag that said "XV," meaning she was the fifteenth girl to wear the collar and the name -- assuming no one had forgotten to update the number with any of the previous Peaches. Four helpful indicator lights around her collar showed the status of the built-in earphones on the mask from any angles, so her handlers could communicate with her when they wanted to and shut her out of communication when they didn't. Right now, they were set to pickup ambient sound.
For Peaches' outfit, Mel had decided on something a bit more tantalizing. The girl was dressed in a tight white woolen cardigan with pink flowers, too small to button over her expansive cleavage, which was displayed to good effect by a push-up bra, with an ultra-short pleated skirt that flashed her panties with every step.
Her hands were restrained in cute, pink bondage gloves. Her fingers were doubled up securely inside, and a padded layer outside gave her hands the look of plush paws, complete with white oval pads, making it impossible for her to use her hands. A pair of chunky, high heel platforms locked onto her feet and attached with a hobble chain completed the look, forcing the former teacher to take tiny mincing step that gave her assets an appealing jiggle.
"Well look who we have here!" Donna said, "Who is this little cutie coming by to say 'hi?' Peaches? I barely even recognized you!"
"Show your new trick, girl," Bronx said, swatting her ass. The girl raised her paws and bounced, the three chuckling as she nearly toppled over. Donna walked up to her and
"Spin around so I can get a look at you, sweetie!" Donna said,
Peaches tottered blindly around in a circle, Bronx guiding her with the leash and a helpful hand.
"Stop," Donna said, rising from her desk chair as Peaches leaned against Bronx for balance, facing away from Donna, the bottom half of her ass already on display.
"Why don't you spread and present that thick ass out for your headmistress, Peaches."
Mel swatted between her cuffed legs with the crop, and Bronx pulled down on the collar, bending her over. Her ass clenched and flexed repeatedly as she briefly struggled, supporting herself on Bronx with her cute little paws. Donna reached up and clicked the a button on the collar, activating the noise-canceling earphones. White noise blared into Peaches' ears, blotting out any sound from the outside room that managed to evade the noise-canceling algorithm.
"Wow, is that stock?" Donna marveled
"Yep, all original," Mel said, proudly. "That's why we gave her the name. Not that Bronx and I didn't help with shaping and tightening a bit," she said, giving Peaches a little smack to demonstrate.
"How are the implants?"
"Great motivation, and honestly, they save so much time in setup," Mel said, running her finger down Peaches' crack. "Want to see?"
"Not yet," Donna said. "How's the UX, Bronx?"
"Oh, like how does she feel? I'll tell you what: if I didn't have access to so much trained pussy and and so many toys, I'd marry her."
Donna laughed. "Glad to see you two aren't having your usual lovers quarrels. Any feedback on the device?"
"Well, it's great as a training aid, but if we're giving the client access, it could definitely be improved with a few more patterns."
"Agreed," Donna said. "If a girl has her own built-in remote-controlled fleshlight, it should be at least as programmable as any pocket pussy on the market."
She motioned Bronx to turn her back around, watching the woman's feet.
"She couldn't walk in heels at all when we got her, could she?"
"Nope!" Mel said proudly. "She still needs a bit of work, but she's made a lot of progress. That's why we brought her in."
Donna put out her hand and accepted Peaches' leash, bending slightly to look the girl right in the cartoonish eyes of her mask, then turned the girl's head back and forth.
She noticed a little ridge along her forehead, and followed it around with her fingers, where it curved in around each of her eye socket, meeting over the bridge of her nose.
"The mask looks great! Is this detachable?" she asked.
"Good eye, no pun intended," Mel said, "a flexible magnetic clasp holds on the blindfold. She can't get it off with her gloves, but her user can easily remove it."
