In a faceless government building, in what could charitably be called an office supply closet, a young woman was vigorously sucking cock. While she hadn't planned to suck three cocks before lunch that was just how her day was playing out. Her rent was late, again, so she blew her landlord for an extension. When she got to work the sight of her overflowing inbox destroyed what little motivation she had, so she gave Angel a blowie to cover for her while she skived off. On her way out she bumped into the new guy with the pretty blue eyes, whose name she couldn't remember. He was cute and she was horny, so she made some overt sexual innuendo and pulled him into the supply closet.
Shockingly, he wanted to cum in her mouth and though her jaw ached a little she happily obliged. It was useful to know your coworker's sexual proclivities to bargain with later.
"Come on man, give it to me." Her mouth was agape, tongue out, eyes locked on his. Her hand furiously pumped his cock. He came harder than she had planned. Hot jets of semen cascaded across her face.
Even if you slut it up on the regular (and she did) taking a shot in the eye is always a surprise. She wiped away as much as she could but her eyelashes were still gooey.
Fellatio was not part of her occupation though perhaps it was her calling, professionally she was a bureaucrat. Like most bureaucrats, she was lazy, stubborn, prone to vice, and self-interested. Unlike most bureaucrats, she was competent when the mood struck her. She was principled--obviously not with the local laws so much, but she lived by her own code. And she was courageous. Some would say brash, impertinent, and arrogant but courageous nonetheless.
"Yo, Trix, you in there?" Angel popped his head around the supply closet door.
Trixie looked up, one eye still blurry. "Kinda in the middle of a thing here."
"Breakin' in the new guy, huh?" He smiled lasciviously. "Boss man wants to see you, pronto."
She furrowed her brow, Angel was supposed to be covering. "Just tell Yaro I left on rounds or better yet get in here and double team me."
"Not Yaro. Big boss man."
Trixie had worked hard to do as little work as possible and not draw attention to herself, so she was less than thrilled that her boss's boss had suddenly taken an interest. She looked down at her semen stained shirt.
"Shit."
- - -
It was widely held that the city of Scroatsburg ran on bureaucracy. Some argued that it ran despite its bureaucracy but those foolish souls placed far too much faith in humanity. A group of two or three might have a chance but lump together four or five people and they'll quickly establish a hierarchy. Gather a hundred and they'll build a complex system of rules expectations and penalties. People like to enforce penalties. Gather a thousand and you have a full-on local government. Scroatsburg was the largest city in the Uzha's Knee region. If you trusted the latest census (and you shouldn't) it held one hundred and seventy-four thousand inhabitants. That population density had birthed a bureaucratic masterpiece called the Magistratus, which ruled the city.
Aedile of Weights and Measures was one of the more influential positions in this complex web of law and power. Pedant Lucrum currently held that title. He was an aged bespectacled bureaucrat of short stature and he believed that without law and order the city of Scroatsburg would burn to the ground in a matter of hours. He was probably correct.
This morning he was particularly pleased with himself because he was about to set in motion a plan to expand his power. Months of research and scheming had all been for this moment. He would set the stage and watch the play unfold. Was there anything quite as satisfying as well planned political machinations?
"Mr. Lucrum, Miss Darling is here for you."
"Thank you, Mrs. Anile. Send her in."
Mrs. Odette Anile was Pedant's trusted assistant. She ran the department's day-to-day operations and was as shrewd and calculating as the old man himself.
"Pedant, are you quite sure? This one's going a little wide... even for you."
Pedant looked up from his work and studied Odette. Whereas he put on an innocuous facade, hers was aggressive and overtly sexual; office dominatrix would be an apt description. Her attire followed the letter of the dress code but did naughty dirty things to the spirit. He enjoyed it but that wasn't the reason he hired her. While other members of the Magistratus despised being challenged, he found it invaluable. Pedant was a meticulous man and had done his research; he played the scenario in his head again.
"Yes, I'm quite sure," he smiled reassuringly. "Send her in."
Odette didn't look convinced, but she didn't push it further. As she reached the door, Pedant called to her, "But, after I wound her pride, would you be a lamb and pick her back up?"
Odette nodded and left.
Can't have her rage-quit this early in the game now, can we?
- - -
In the waiting room sat a tall, athletic woman whose tits were trying to escape from the ill-fitting shirt she'd hastily snatched from an unguarded laundry line. She looked as though she'd prefer to be anywhere else but here. Her olive skin tone paired with her fiery red hair gave her an exotic appeal. Her hair was pulled up into a pompadour. She kept it short because long hair takes too much effort but also her style was an eclectic mix of butch and femme.
"Mrs. Darling, the Aedile will see you now."
With a deep sigh, Trixie crossed the waiting room, made her best attempt at a professional demeanor, and entered.
The stench of work obligation hung heavy in the air. Some new project, initiative, or task force required a keen go-getter to forsake their health and family to work long hours for not enough pay. How on earth her name had bubbled to the top of this shit heap she had no idea.
The office was quite spartan in its decor, but the items on display were of immaculate quality. Pedant's desk was made of ebony, its every edge and seam precise. Tall windows flooded the room with light. His chairs were upholstered in leather and smelled exotic. The few art pieces on display were geometric and grand.
"Ahh Miss Darling, how good of you to come. It's been too long." Pedant continued reading his papers.
"You called, sir?" she said, hoping to expedite things.
"Yes, I require an emissary for a trade negotiation with Fossegrim and you are, as they say, uniquely qualified." He broke away from his work and flashed her a smile.
This didn't bode well. It was no random assignment but a responsibility tailor-made for her. Trixie scrambled for excuses. "Trade negotiations are not my strong suit and I'm unfortunately already attached to another effort. Perhaps you would be better serv--"
Pedant waved his hand dismissively as he shuffled through some papers. "I've already consulted your superior, and he was most accommodating. We've already reassigned you to my project. As for your inexperience, you have developed a reputation as someone who can, when properly motivated, get things done. For this job I need your tenacity, your...enthusiasm for coloring outside the lines."
She could feel the trap closing. "I have unresolved issues in Fossegrim, I'm not welcome there," she weaseled.
"Yes, I know." Suddenly Pedant's full attention was bearing down on her. "The Obtruders Guild is skilled in the trafficking of secrets and even they had difficulty with yours."
Trixie's blood ran cold. How much did those gossipy bitches dig up?
Pedant resumed his affable, distracted tone. "You know the Grimen people, their values, customs, and weak points. You are uniquely qualified. Go make amends for your youthful transgressions but more importantly, close this deal."
Her weaseling had failed. There must be another way. Trixie changed tactics."Are you quite sure I can't change your mind, sir?" Trixie suggestively licked her lips. "Perhaps, you could leverage my assets right here." Trixie popped the top button of her shirt.
"Your assets won't get you out of this one, not this time." Pedant's focus was now mostly on his work. "Mrs. Anile will brief you on the details of your mission. You leave forthwith, godspeed."
Irritated and with half a mind to quit, Trixie turned around and nearly plowed right into Odette who deftly took her by the arm and walked her down a long hall to a small conference room. The two women sat in silence at the small table and regarded each other. Trixie had met Odette in passing but knew her by reputation. She was beautiful and scary. Trixie found her quite exciting and examined her dress. Today's ensemble was a black choker with a single pearl, a deep-plunge white blouse tailored to show every curve, and a black skirt with a slit that ran quite high up her thigh. Her inky black hair was tied in a bun.
Odette explained the details of the trade negotiation but Trixie's attention wandered. Having given three blowjobs and having had zero orgasms, her irritation quickly gave way to lust. Possible sexual scenarios played out in her head. Odette chose the smallest conference room, with the frosted windows--was that intentional? Would she even be interested?
Odette smelled amazing. Sweet on the head, spicy heart, musky tail, like a cinnamon roll you want to fuck. Does she taste as good as she smells? Trixie realized that she had been staring at Odette's tits for the last few minutes. Had she noticed? Was that a smirk?
"I booked you passage on the overnight SLAG. It will take you to the port town of Pissdorf. It leaves in four hours. Tomorrow, you are to connect with the rest of your contingent."
"Contingent?" Trixie's attention snapped back. "Weights and Measures is sending a team?"
"No..." Odette sighed. "Last election cycle the tribunes needed something to be outraged about and got their panties in a twist over the transportation budget. You know how it goes. To appease them, all civic offices are batching their delegate's travel, regardless of how difficult that makes my life. I believe you'll be traveling with Ms. Taint from Religious Affairs, her assistant Ms. Scissors, and Mr. Dandysnatch from Civics."
Trixie scrunched her face. "Ugh, zealots and nerds."
"Do try to keep an open mind; you are representing this office." Her words were very official, but her eyes were laughing. "Anyway, meet your fellow delegates at the Busted Flush, an inn of some repute in the area."
