The Office Siren

The Office Siren - Chapter One

Josie's Notes

Hi y'all! I'm baaaack!

Welcome to my new multi-part series The Office Siren, where a few sexy girls use everything at their disposal to get what they want. Everything.

There's plenty of lesbian sex and hetero sex in Siren. I'm no stranger to either, so I hope you like how it goes down.

Most of the main characters in Office S+iren are imaged in my website. See my profile page for the weblink (I'm not allowed to post it here) but be forewarned. The Office Siren pages have spoilers.

Let me know in the comments if you think the story's on a good path.

~~

I sat back and waited for her to conclude the interview. I think I did well. I'd answered everything just the way my research told me I should, right down to what I should say about my goals. 'To make my department head shine!', I'd said enthusiastically. My key worry was that I'm overqualified. IT degree majoring in AI programming from Georgia Tech. MBA in General Management from Harvard.

The position? Junior Data Analyst for one of the largest PR firms in New York.

I have a really solid referral from a company insider.

My pussy moistened as I remembered 'my referral' agreeing to get me this interview. When he spoke, his voice was somewhat - muffled.

Word is that Poulsen Pendergast Masterly & Vonn is losing business. The market sees the firm as staid. Old school conservative. All their business comes from the old-boys network. Not a single woman in a higher position of authority. It's worked for them for a hundred years.

PPMV is exactly what I need right now. Calm. Buttoned down. Safe.

If I don't get it under control, this libido of mine is going to get me in big trouble. I can't - I just can not repeat the mistakes of my past. So I've made the decision: what's in my past, stays in the past. I've got to take the hard life lessons and move on. Because if I don't get some structure in my life, some normalcy, if I don't get my absolute living SHIT together, I'm going to die poor and flat on my back, with my legs spread and my pussy gushing.

Seriously, it's a lot worse than it sounds.

"Everything seems to be in order Miss Peters," Mrs. Penderly, the matron in charge of HR said.

Miss Peters. Old school indeed.

I certainly expected everything to "be in order." The Senior VP I blew last night wouldn't want that little secret to get out.

I'll hold that card for later.

"Thank you, Mrs. Penderly," I said demurely. Old cunt.

I said before I need this job to get some stability in my life. But fuck me, no-one should have to live and work like this.

"I see you got the dress code memo," Penderly said.

The dress code. You can't make this stuff up.

"Just so you don't get into any trouble during your probationary period of three months, I'll go over it with you. I must remind you that any girl who violates the dress code while in their probationary period will be dismissed immediately. There are no warnings. Are you clear about that?"

"Oh yes, Mrs. Penderly. This isn't hard for me. Why, I didn't have to buy anything new for my closet at all. Your dress code fits my style perfectly."

It is true I didn't buy anything new. Everything I plan to wear for the next three months I got from the New Beginnings store on 78th. The one that sells matronly designer wear.

"Very good. So here it is. Firstly we require all our girls to wear hosiery. We don't accept bare legs. This is not a beach resort." She said it with a faint smile. An old joke she's told a thousand times. I rewarded her with a modest smile.

"We require dresses or skirts. Hemlines must be no higher than the knee. This is strictly enforced. Shoulders are to be covered at all times, nothing sleeveless. All skirts, dresses, and blouses must be loose fitting such that the physical attributes of the wearing do not distract."

Yeah. It took a lot of hunting through those sales bins to find enough tops to hide this massive pair of knockers. I had to settle for sweaters about five sizes too fucking big. I look like a freak, but it seems I pass. At least I don't always have to wear a bra. At 34EE, the girls aren't happy in a harness and the sweaters are bulky enough to hide it all.

I can't help but think my sweater is so big, whenever I get horny I could snatch some random and yank him into the bathroom. Drape it over his head and make him suck my nipples 'til I cum.

Yeah, I know. A girl doesn't wanna get a reputation. That worked at school, but the office is different. At least that's what they tell me.

"Finally, your shoes must have a low heel, no more than two inches. Is everything very clear?"

"Yes, Mrs. Penderly. Chrystal clear."

"Good. I'll take you out to your desk. Your supervisor is in a meeting, but when he returns, he'll give you your work assignments."

We stand and shake hands. I'm pleased to see that I top her by several inches. At five eleven in nylons, I'm north of six feet, even in these kitten heels.

When we walk out onto the seventh floor, I'm stunned. A sea of open desks, not a cubicle wall in sight. Each desk is equipped with a keyboard, two large screens, a small filing cabinet (mostly for shoes and purses, I would say), a desk light and not much else.

But what strikes me is that in this entire army of workers, there is not a single man. I'm starting at the bottom, and there's plenty of women here with me.

The perimeter of the floor is lined with private offices. Glass fronts equipped with blinds. Many of the managers keeps their blinds tightly closed - hoarding all the daylight for themselves.

Typical, yes. But window blinds can be useful in other ways.

My work area is in a cluster of eight. Seven heads look up. A few of them even smile.

"Hi," I say, swiveling my head. "I'm Jenny. It's nice to be here."

A pretty young woman sitting facing me reaches over our monitors and shakes my hand. "Hey Jenny, I'm Vivia." She was modestly dressed, of course, and her platinum white blonde hair was bundled into a tight bun, but under all those shitty clothes and the accountant spectacles, I can tell she's a knockout.

Too bad.

Six more heads pop up to say hello. All around me, women swivelled in their office chairs to smile and welcome me. Yet not one thigh, not one pinched waist, not even one stiletto high heel did I see.

It was so depressing!

"Everyone really takes this dress code seriously around here, don't they?" I said to the woman beside me.

"Don't fuck with the dress code Jenny. Unless you want old lady Penderly coming down on you. Girl last week got fired for having a thigh-high slit in her floor length skirt. I'm Aurora, by the way."

I shook her hand and turned back to my desk to check out the orientation program. As I booted up the 'puter, I wondered whose cock I may need to suck to get some changes around here.

***

Three Months Later

"Congratulations Jenny for completing your probationary period. You now have the privilege of being a full-time employee of Poulsen Pendergast Masterly & Vonn."

I was sitting in the little chair opposite Mr. Sykes' desk. His chair is a full-blown executive model with the high leather back, and slightly elevated to project his authoritative power.

My chair - not so much.

Mid-forties, Sykes is the seniormost executive on the floor and one of the chief light hogs.

"Thank you Mr. Sykes."

"Let me tell you. Only the elite get to play at PPMV. You're one of the elites now Jenny."

So I'm an elite now. Let's see.

All-male client development via back room deals over cigars and cognac. Check.

Neanderthal dress codes for women. Check.

Not one woman above the level of senior manager. Check.

Whole floors full of women building spreadsheets and marketing plans for their male managers. Got it.

Somehow I didn't feel like "one of the elites." More like the supporting cast to the elites.

Meaning: the men.

"We do performance reviews every six months, Jenny," he continued, "where we track your progress and evaluate it towards your goals."

Okay, my goals. I have ideas. "That's great Mr. Sykes. When do you want me to forward my career goals?"

Sykes swallowed visibly, then gave me a condescending smile. "You misunderstand. I'll be forwarding your goals to you. Next week."

I can't help noticing Sykes stealing glances at my chest. Not much to see really. Oh I've got the goods all right. 34EE right out of the box. But this baggy sweater isn't giving him much to go on.

"Your goals - for me?"

"Yes, of course. When you meet your goals, along with all the other ladies in my department, then I meet my goals. When the department meets its goals, everybody's happy. I get my bonus, and then I look after you. See how it works?"

Yeah, I see how it works.

"So, Jenny, if there's nothing else?"

I slumped into my desk chair and stared at the screen. In the space of five short minutes, I'd had direct confirmation this job was going nowhere. No upward mobility for the women. Every moment of our working day devoted to getting our light-hogging manager his annual bonus.

I crossed my legs, eyeing the grey wool of my pleated skirt. The fine fabric draped an inch or so over the curve of my knee. I picked up one of the pleats between my thumb and forefinger and absent mindedly rubbed the layers together.

Fuck I hate this skirt.

I hate this place.

I hate my manager.

This fucking place is going nowhere. One of the "elites"? That's a laugh. Doesn't he get it? PPMV is losing market share faster than a goose shits grass. The old boys are dying off.

Why am I here?

Jenny, Jenny, Jenny, you need stability. Your life depends on it.

I scratch my thigh through the wool of my skirt. I like how the fabric rubs across my nylons, giving me sexy little vibes. Without thinking, I uncross and recross my legs. I love the feel of my garters pulling on my nylons every time I sit or cross. The feeling of nylon on nylon. It's why I cross and recross my legs so much. I love that sexy feeling of rubbing my nylon legs together.

I wondered if Mrs. Penderly knew I was wearing sexy French nylons and a garter belt under these frumpy threads. If she saw an outline of my garters against the skirt, would she say something?

Next to me Vivia was busy at some complex spreadsheet on her computer. She's so good at her job. Any Excel question I have: Boom, she's got the answer. I cast my eyes down at her legs. The hemline of her baggy dress falls to mid-calf, revealing the glossy fine nylons clinging to her trim ankles. Suddenly I wondered if Vivia is wearing sexy nylon stockings like me under all that material.

This is fucked up. Why should we hide our nylons? What's wrong with our knees? Our thighs?

Who the fuck are they to tell us what to wear, what to think? They have no idea how to run a business, or how to get new customers.

Cognac and cigars. Downtown clubs. Golf. Fishing trips.

Strip clubs.

They think we don't know. All the women know.

On my desk was one of Sykes' expense reports. It needed to be processed. I was asked to do it because Amelia, his "secretary", is off sick.

On the receipt was scrawled in ballpoint pen: "Client entertainment."

The business name on the receipt was "Downtown Food and Beverage Club." The amount of the claim was eye-popping: $5,600.

That SFW code is for the Eyes Only strip club on forty-seventh. It's a high-end club that pushes the legal boundaries. Ploughs through them, to be honest. Political connections and payoffs make it all happen.

I know, because I used to work there. Paid my way through Harvard from that place. Lots of girls financed their higher education at Eyes, one sticky twenty at a time.

Now that I had this receipt staring at me, Sykes' face suddenly looked vaguely familiar. As in, in-my-past familiar.

There'd been so many. So many hungry faces, staring up at my gorgeous fit body as I cavorted above them. The "Eyes Only" name on the sign was a joke. These guys got to touch, and they all did. Some more than others. A lot more.

It sounds terrible but I don't know how many I fucked in the VIP rooms. Or blew. I can't remember their faces. Just their money. Talk about high finance. I was a master of cash flow. How to maximize it, how to collect it, how to keep it coming and coming and... cumming.

That's what they were, those faces. Money machines that cum. But they only get to cum after I drain them. And I'm not talking about their balls.

No-one leaves my VIP room with money in their wallet. I even had a payment terminal. I made up a sexy game where I got to punch in the PIN with my hardened nipples. You'd be shocked at how many of those faces loved to play that game, not thinking what it cost them.

Or how many transactions I was able to make behind their backs while their faces were buried in my glorious double E's. Or my pussy.

There was one guy. Fuck he was a horny bastard. Couldn't take his eyes off my tits. I can't really blame him. At 34EE 22 34, I've got the goods. But with some guys, you just know. You know he's going to be good for anything, any amount, just to get that little prick of his inside me.

There's plenty of ways to do it. The VIP rooms at Eyes Only give you options. There's a couch, of course. They've got wall restraints, an adjustable cot like an operating table (again with restraints if he wants them), a stripper pole.

For him, I chose The Chair.

I had him all the way. In the main lounge, I spotted him from high up on the Pole. Eye fucked him through nearly a full song. After my dismount, I strutted over to his table. A fifty got my ass in his lap. When I put my full weight on his dick and crossed my legs, draping my arm around his neck, he was all mine. And no, he didn't get to cum. Not in the main room, anyway. Nobody cums in the main room. That's for later.

When he was close, I stood and took his hand. Didn't have to say a thing. My ass did all the talking.

And my legs.

And my tits.

I led him like a little boy through the crowds of the hustlers and the hustled, the unclothed and the clothed. The ones who work for the money and the ones eager to give it to them.

I kept my eyes laser focused on the door to the VIP. He trailed behind me, dutifully holding my hand, eyes on my ass, walking in step behind me. Eager. Horny.

Ready.

Ready for The Chair.

Whoever invented The Chair was a mistress of the dark arts. No man can resist me when he's in The Chair. No man can hold on to his money when he's all strapped in and helpless.

I kicked the door shut and threw the deadbolt with a loud thunk. Men think it's sexy when a woman locks him in with her. I like it too: He's not getting away until he's got nothing left but his Metro Card.

I led him backwards towards The Chair. It's my favorite instrument of sexual torture. So many advantages.

Comfortable padded seat, so he can take all my weight for a very long time.

Ankle and bicep restraints so he feels dominated but can still touch with his hands.

Six inch hole in the seat so I can get at his business from every direction.

Tilt and lift, to get him exactly where I want him.

Perfect.

I straddle his lap. But I don't sit in it yet. He loves my tits - he's hardly taken his eyes off my gorgeous double E's. This guy's addicted to breast flesh. So I give it to him. As much as he can handle.

His mouth goes for a nipple. I back away.

Not yet.

I push forward again, driving his nose in between. He's happy with that, for now.

He'll get more later. But it's going to cost him.

I squeeze the outside of my breasts together, smothering him. He loves that.

When he comes up for air, I show him a nipple. But I hold it there, just out of reach.

He dives back in, but he doesn't stay long. He wants that nipple in his mouth.

Slowly he pulls back. I look into his eyes. The memory floods back...

Sykes.

I fucking knew it.

"Didn't go so well, Jen?"

"What?" A familiar voice yanks me out of my reverie, just in time.

At the desk beside me, my friend Aurora Wild was sitting back on her chair. Her left arm was raised above her head, the other thrust up under her sweater. She was fidgeting with her bra. She did little to disguise it because hey, we're all victims of the harness on this floor. Besides, there's not a man to be seen.

I love Aurora. She's brilliant - way overqualified for the shit work she's assigned. She's got an empathy EQ that's way over the top. And a marketing degree from U Penn no less. When the job market frees up she'll be out of here so fast you'll miss her if you blink.

"With Sykes. Your meeting didn't go so well?"

"Oh it went just great," I said. "I especially liked the part where if I work hard enough, he'll get his year-end bonus."

"Ouch."

I gestured her sweater with my chin. "Whatcha doin' under there, Wild?"

Aurora looked up and grinned. "Fucking straitjacket. Can't wait to get outta this thing."

"Whattaya say we meet after work?" I gestured at Vivia across from me. "Viv. You come too. I've got an idea I want to run past you. I'm buying."

"So long as I can come commando," Viv said with a shit-eating grin.

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

It was a date. Three gorgeous, repressed broads had a date for drinks.

***

I sat alone at the high top staring at the after-work crowd clustered around the bar. My Vesper, a little heavy on the gin the way I like it, was sitting before me. Aurora and Viv had disappeared together into the bathrooms the instant we arrived, each carrying her ever-present shoulder bag. They're both single malt girls, so I ordered Dalwhinnie 15-year for them, with ice on the side just in case.

Being a Thursday evening, the bar was jammed with businessmen and women, their conversations loud and engaging. Plenty of flirting, the cacophony of the bar giving excuse for close contact, mouths to ears, hands on shoulders, the fine spray of opposite-sex saliva on faces. The phrasing getting a little more risqué with every drink, the touching slightly more intimate, the laughter more exaggerated.

Will any pair off and head out together? It happens. Most here are just interested in the titillation, the condoned close contact with an attractive co-worker before dutifully heading back to the spouse, the kids, and helping with the dishes after dinner. Or not.

Being a lone woman in the midst of such free-wheeling banter and drinking came with the inevitable approach by some hopeful young stud in a suit whose upward mobility is only limited by his ability to fail well and up. A privilege still not afforded the denizens of the seventh floor of Poulsen Pendergast Masterly & Vonn. We're still fixing our bras under baggy sweaters and filling out expense forms for the elite strip clubs for our (upwardly mobile) male bosses.

Of course being a young woman with considerable assets of my own, I've learned to fend off all but the most tone-deaf of the male breed. I've never had a real relationship with a man. Two years of VIP rooms and stripper poles injects a cynicism into a girl that's hard to break through. Even if I was so inclined. For now, I'm content as the mistress of my own domain.

I glanced at my phone and took another sip of my drink. I was thinking about sliding off my stool and checking the bathroom when I spotted them deftly navigating the crowded bar towards my table.

Holy fuck.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea for the two stunning blondes. Free of their PPMV corporate frump-wear, free to do their makeup and hair the way they want.

Free of their bras.

I uncrossed and recrossed my legs, feeling the sexy nylon-on-nylon swish of my fine Cervin stockings. When my legs were apart for that split second, I felt it. A distinct dampness in my pussy, growing steadily as I watched the two bombshells approach.

Aurora, the older of the two at 27, wore an electric blue bodycon dress hemmed at mid-thigh. Her legs were spectacular, long, lean and slender with the distinctive long-diamond gap between her upper thighs. Her long legs were adorned with tan oil-shine pantyhose, terminating in a pair of crimson stilettos so shiny they looked like Ferrari paint. Her thick honey blonde hair flowed free and wild, cascading over her prodigious bosom, which like her hair, ran free and wild under that curve-hugging dress.

Vivia, 24, was even more my type. Meaning sluttier. Black sky-high stilettos, nude glossy pantyhose, micro mini tight black leather skirt hemmed four inches below her pussy, and a white sheer blouse with the top three buttons open to reveal the most glorious set of knockers this side of Eyes Only. Like Aurora, she wore her hair down, except that Viv's was platinum blonde and thick as a bramble bush. Her lipstick was a crimson slash with gloss so reflective I could almost do my makeup in them.

Eyes forward, tits out, arms by their sides, these women had it all. And everyone knew it.

Briefly I wondered if either of them lean left.

Viv and Aurora hiked themselves onto the stools with smiles on their faces and a room full of eyes on their bodies. They crossed their legs in unison and leaned into the center of the table to shut out their admirers so we could play catch up.

"Wow," was all I had.

"Wow yourself, Jen," Vivia said, looking up and down my frump wear. "Don't tell me the dress code is your life."

I laughed. "Fuck no. It's just that - I don't bring the good stuff to the office."

"It's time you did," Aurora said. "No self-respecting slut should walk around like that." She waved her hand up and down my body, but I didn't take offence. I knew what she meant.

"Is that what we are?" I said. "Sluts?"

"Slutty and proud, with a body and a brain," Viv said. "And we know how to use both to get what we want."

"Hmmm," I said. "Like at PPMV?" It was a cruel jab, and I didn't mean it as strong as it came out.

"You've got a point," Aurora said. "That place is fucked up."

"I did the Light Hog's expense report today," I said. "More than five grand on Eyes Only."

"Strip club on forty-seventh," Aurora said.

I was surprised. "You know it?"

"I've been there."

"Buying or selling?"

"Funny. I went with a bunch of girls once a few months ago. Sexy place."

"Turn you on?" Vivia said with a wicked smile.

Aurora took a little sip of her drink, placing it carefully back onto the table. "A little."

Interesting.

"What about you Jenny? Ever been to a strip club?" Vivia was clearly enjoying herself. I think she was trying to shock me.

How to handle this?

If I tell them, would I risk losing their friendship? Somehow I doubted it. Aurora and Viv seem pretty open-minded. But loss of respect is just as important. I don't talk about my two years at Eyes to anyone. It only invites trouble.

But here I am, wearing enough material to clothe three women. I never thought to bring a change of clothes to the office. I just slink back to my little apartment, shed the shit, and get busy with the good stuff. Maybe I should be bringing my good clothes to work, change in the bathroom and go home dressed like the woman inside.

Fuck it. Somehow, from deep down inside my female psyche, I needed these two gorgeous girls to know the dowdy young woman with the messy bun and spectacles is really something far different. Far more like them than they could possibly realize.

And yet, so different.

"I have," I said. "In fact, I know that particular club very well."

"Oooo, do tell!" Vivia said, hunkering closer over the table so she wouldn't miss a single word.

I swallowed hard and finished the second half of my Vesper. I leaned in, our three foreheads inches apart over the small high top table. "I used to work there."

Aurora's eyes could have competed with the full moon.

Vivia hit the table with the palm of her hand. "I knew it! I knew there was something going on with you Jenny." My stone face pulled her back to Earth. "That is, I mean, I knew you were a lot more complex than the Penderly dress-code-data-analyst girl."

A good try. Good enough, I figured.

"So what exactly did you do?" Aurora said. Her forearms were on the table, parallel with her body. She was laser focused on my face.

"I was a stripper."

A sharp intake of breath from Viv. "No!!! What's that like? Did you do the pole thing?"

"The other girls called me the mistress of the pole. I could climb that sucker to the ceiling, then slide down hands-free and inverted. I was especially proud of my dismount. I could stick the landing in my six-inch spikes from four feet up."

"Fuck," Aurora said. "What's it feel like? To strip in front of all those leering men? Didn't it creep you out?"

"The first time was obviously the hardest. I was so nervous I'd fuck it up. But the applause and a G-string full of twenties and fifties made that go away fast."

"Was the money that good?"

"Harvard-MBA-with-no-student-loans good."

"Just from stripping? Holy fuck, you must be, I don't know..."

"Let's just say, I've got the goods. If we ever go out some night, you'll find out."

"Oh yes!" Viv said, clapping her hands together. "We have to, we have to, we have to."

I didn't know if I should tell them about the VIP rooms. That would take a little more liquid courage.

Which was lucky because another round appeared right then.

Then I remembered why I wanted to meet for drinks.

"Say, Aurora, Viv, I have a thought."

"We're all ears," Viv said, which was kinda funny seeing those spectacular tits of hers spilling out over the table. "Almost."

We all laughed at Viv's intentional joke. She's got the goods and she knows it. I love that about her.

Briefly I considered going to the ladies' room. My juice factory was on overdrive. Pussy needed to towel off.

Coward.

"Look," I said, "how many girls do we have on our floor, would you say?"

"Gotta be a couple of hundred, easy'" Aurora said. "Why?"

"And how many men? Not including the Light Hogs?"

Viv snorted. "Not many. And none worth my... time."

"Exactly. But the women on seven, all of us, we do really important work, don't we?"

"Behind every PR campaign, a hundred women are slaving to pull it all together."

"Everybody's got a piece."

I sat back. "So we've got power. Don't we?"

"How do you mean?" Aurora said.

"What if we all stopped working at once? What if we could coordinate the whole seventh floor to do that?"

"To what end?" Viv said.

"Loosen up the dress code, for starters. Once we get that, we'll push for more."

"They'll never go for it," Aurora said. "The dress code is like the fucking bible around that place."

"Not if we all stick together. One day of action. Every woman comes - like they feel. No restrictions, so long as we're not pornographic."

"No matter how much fun that would be," Viv said with a wink.

Aurora flipped her hair. "How would we do it?"

"Among us three, we know most of the girls on the seventh floor. I'll set up a WhatsApp chat group. The three of us will fan out, starting tomorrow, and see who's in. I'll add them into the chat group. That way we can keep it just to the true believers."

"This is getting interesting," Aurora said.

"So what do you say?"

"The Light Hogs will be pissed," Viv said.

"Yeah, especially that tight-ass Sykes," Aurora said.

"And that cunt in HR, Penderly," Vivia said.

"Don't worry about Sykes," I said. "I've got that covered."

"What do you mean 'you've got that covered?' Come on, Jen, give," Aurora said.

I took a deep breath. Yeah, I had to tell. "At Eyes Only. I wasn't just a stripper. There was more..."

It didn't take a moment for that to sink in. "You mean..." Vivia said.

"VIP rooms. What goes on behind those doors would make you - well let's just say there's no limit."

"Did, did you go in there?" Viv said. She was listening like I was telling a horror suspense story around a campfire.

"Twenties and fifties are great, but... that Harvard MBA cost me more than a hundred-fifty grand."

"You fucked guys for money?" Aurora was dumbfounded.

I nodded. "In fact, I'm pretty sure I fucked Sykes."

That shut them up real quick. But Aurora, ever the sharp cookie had the right question.

"What do you mean, you're pretty sure? Don't you know? Holy shit, I mean, doesn't he know?"

I blew out a deep breath and sucked down some Vesper.

Vivia poked Aurora with her elbow. "You don't remember, do you? Was it because you were on drugs?"

I wish.

"No Viv, I wasn't on drugs."

"So what then..."

"Viv," Aurora interrupted. "I'll tell you later."

"No, it's okay," I said. "Vivia, I'm not sure if I fucked Sykes because I fucked so many assholes in my two years at Eyes that not a single one of them stands out."

"Shit," Vivia said. She sat back, letting that sink in. "So, like how many..."

"Viv!" Aurora interjected.

"It's okay," I said. "I didn't keep track. But once or twice a night, two nights a week, fifty weeks times two years. So... two-fifty, three hundred maybe?"

"Holy fuck," Vivia said. "So, what's it worth? What do they pay?"

"Eyes is a pretty upscale place. Manhattan. Mid-town. Minimum $300 for a 15 minute dance. $500 for a half hour. Add more if you want extras. A hand job's a C-note. Blow job, two fifty. If he cums in my pussy, a thousand. Anal twenty-five hundred. Depending on how loaded the guy is, it can go way up from there."

"How far up?" Vivia's interest in this was - unusual.

"There was this one guy. I spotted his Amex Black Card in the lounge. When I approached him, he was interested. So I pulled him in."

The two women were awestruck. And they waiting for the payoff.

"Ten thousand."

"Holy shit!" This time it was Aurora. "Some guy paid ten thousand dollars to fuck you?"

I snickered. "He got his money's worth." I pointed downwards, through the table. "Pussy could make a lamppost cum. He left happy, believe me."

"What about you?" Aurora said. "Did you ever... enjoy it?"

"I hated the men. Even Black Card was a complete asshole. Especially Black Card. But sometimes..."

"Yeah? Sometimes what?" Viv said, transfixed.

"Sometimes, I'd get a girl. I was one of two dancers in the club that took women."

"Women go to the VIP?"

"More than you'd imagine. Those were my good nights."

"Does, does... Pussy like girls?" The tip of Vivia's tongue poked out through the corner of her mouth.

I laughed. "Pussy loves girls."

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," Vivia said under her breath. She uncrossed and crossed her legs. That silky swish of nylon on nylon gets me every time. Then she did it again.

It's her tell.

She's horny.

"Anyway," Aurora broke in. "What about Sykes? What did you have in mind?"

"He's senior manager on the floor right?" I said. "What if I can get him on board?"

"Violating the dress code? There's no way. He's Mr. Corporate, through and through."

"You're forgetting something."

"You fucked him."

"No, not that. He doesn't remember me and I have no proof. No proof, no leverage. But what I do have is his receipt from Eyes Only and the knowledge of what that money buys."

"Are you going to confront him?"

"Leave it with me. But first, let's see how many women we can recruit."

"There's a few spies on the floor," Aurora said.

"We need to maintain operational security," I said. "Only if the girl is solid can she get on the chat."

"Right," Aurora said. "So, girls, how far are we going to push this dress code?"

"I'm ditching everything," I said. "What do you say? Stilettos?"

"Check"

"Miniskirts?"

"Absolutely."

"Button up blouses or tight sweaters?"

"Can't wait."

"Body con?"

"Tight as a drum."

"Hair and makeup?"

"Down and up. Big time."

"Nylons?"

"Always. Only the best."

"Girls," I said, "this is the revolution. Hang on tight, because Poulsen Pendergast Masterly & Vonn is getting a makeover whether they like it or not."

We all high-fived in the middle of the table and ordered another round. Several men approached and we let them buy us drinks and flirt with us all night but neither Aurora nor Viv were interested in any of them. By ten o'clock we were ready to leave.

At the curb we all hugged and said our goodbyes. Aurora was going downtown, Viv to Brooklyn and I was headed to the Upper East Side. So sharing a cab didn't make sense. Aurora was a little drunker than Viv or me so we made her take the first cab.

After cab pulled away, Vivia turned to me. "Jen?"

I know that voice.

"Viv?"

She stepped up close to face me and put a hand on my shoulder. Her long thick white hair spilled over her full round breasts, heaving with each deep intake. She bit her lower lip and gifted me a tiny smile. "Share a cab?"

Gently, she placed a stiletto between my feet and caressed the inside of my calf.

Sexy.

"My place," I said, then wrapped my arms around her neck and slipped my tongue into her mouth.

"Mmmm," she moaned, and pressed in nice and firm.

We kissed for a few moments when she broke away. We smiled at each other, two women who had just discovered the other was available to her.

"When you were talking about your pussy," Viv said. "When you were saying it can do amazing things? That's when I knew I had to come home with you."

I smiled and kissed her again. "Pussy's gonna take good care of you."

That made her swoon. Her knees buckled, forcing me to wrap my arms around her tight little waist.

The cab arrived and I bundled her in. The ride to East 77th was quick at this hour.

I'd barely got the deadbolt and chain fixed when she was on me. A bitch in heat, Vivia pounced. Her hands were on my tits and she squeezed them hard. My fingers found the clasp of her leather microskirt, and I had the short zipper down in a flash. She helped get the skintight leather down by shimmying her hips, the way only a girl can. The oil-shine pantyhose made its passage easier.

The three snaps that weren't already open on her white blouse gave way with a single tug. In under ten seconds, I had her naked except for her crotchless ultra-sheer-to-waist oil-shine pantyhose. It clung to her full ass cheeks like a second skin.

Her breasts were full and round, her nipples rock hard, only partly obscured by thick waves of her brilliant platinum hair.

I wanted my mouth on those nipples. Fast.

But before I could drop down, she had her fingers under the waistband of my baggy sweater. I reached for the ceiling and she swept it off me in no time. Vivia stepped in for a hug, throwing her arms around to my back where she expertly released the clasp of my bra. I pointed to the floor and let it slide off.

Viv stepped back and gasped.

I wasn't kidding. A natural 34EE, my girls are the real deal.

"I knew it," she said. "I've been watching you girl. I knew you had it going on under all that - wool."

I unzipped my long flowy skirt and let it fall in a heap to the floor.

"Oh baby," Vivia said with a catch in her voice. My fully fashioned Cervin nylons were all that was left. "Those are staying on."

My apartment is small. Really small. As in bed, breakfast table, kitchen in the same room small. She walked me back two steps and we tumbled onto the bed, Vivia on top.

Fuck she was horny. She raced up my body and pressed her lips to mine. But I still wanted those nipples in my mouth. We fought for control and I won out.

She didn't mind.

Her breast was full and round. I swirled my tongue around a rock-hard nipple, around and around. When I sucked it into my mouth, Vivia melted on top of me.

"Ohh, Jenny, baby that feels soooo nice. Ohhh."

This was going to be a long night. I'm going to fuck this girl to next week.

I rolled her onto her back and went to work on her. My pussy was begging for action but I wanted to help out Viv first. She's so sweet and gorgeous, I couldn't wait to get her cumming.

I lavished her breasts with my tongue and my lips. She caressed the back of my head, digging her fingers into my hair as I brought her nearly to orgasm. She was close.

"Ohh, Jenny. Baby. Let me eat you. I want your pussy. I neeeeed your pussy on my face."

I looked up at her between her breasts. "Soon honey. Real soon."

She was in no mood to wait. I went straight to the main course.

She was soaking wet. Dripping even. My first tentative licks coated my tongue, filling my mouth with sweet waves of honey and sage. Fuck she tasted good!

Not just good. Vivia's cunt is the sweetest morsel I've ever sucked on. It wasn't even close. She could bottle that stuff.

I could get used to this.

Now, I'm not one to brag, but my pussy skills are beyond superb. When I'm between a gorgeous girl's legs and lapping at her pussy like a starving kitty, my brain goes into a whole other consciousness. Having a pretty vibrant pussy myself, when I eat a girl out, I fall into a sort of cunnilingual trance. I feel what she feels, so I do what she wants. Her pussy is my pussy. Her brain is my brain. And I just go with it.

I can almost do the same with cock, but really, it's not the same. Don't get me wrong. I can render any man into a babbling drooling fool with my mouth, but it's pussy I love the most.

And this pussy, Vivia's pussy, is fucking amazing. Delicious, soft, responsive, and ohh so wet.

"Ohh, Jenny, Jenny, ohh baby, what are you doing down there?"

Music to my ears. Which were about to go silent because Vivia's nylon thighs closed around my head in a vise grip and pulled me in.

I went to town.

I licked up all the spare nectar dripping out of her pussy, making sure to linger with the tip of my tongue in all the sensitive little spots around her vulva. Most men don't know this, but women love it when they start small, stay off the orgasmic zone for a while, take care of the nerve endings all around her pussy, get her entire core fully attuned to the certainty that this is going to happen, that she's going to cum, and she's going to cum as hard as she's ever cum before because she knows I'm committed and I know what I'm doing. It's that mental game of absolute confidence in a transcendent outcome that makes her feel sexy, that makes her available to me to gush and cum and writhe and scream her way into a massive string of orgasms, maybe the longest and hardest she's ever had.

I can do that.

Her legs began to pulse. Tighten, release, tighten, release.

I kissed her pussy lips. Softly at first. Gentle wet little kisses, like smooching on a first date, a little kiss here, a little suck there, kiss, kiss, kiss.

The pulsing of her legs made her pussy kiss me back.

I love that.

Without warning, I jammed my tongue inside her snatch, as deep and hard as it would go, curling it up right into her G-spot. I love the shock of that, where I lull her into a nice easy pussy licking, and then BOOM, hit her where it counts.

But only for a moment. Give her a taste of what she can expect.

I pull out and move to her clit. Around and around the tip of my tongue goes. I don't forget to lap up all the extra from her juice factory. But I don't swallow it. I bring it all up to her clit and immerse her in her own femcum, lubricating her, bathing her in juicy luxury.

Her fingers were digging into my scalp. Pulling on my hair.

Guess she likes it.

Time for the main event.

With my upper lip, I uncover her little pearl and slip my tongue onto it for a trial run. Just a little jab. Her whole body lurches around me. Her fingers dig deeper, her thighs squeeze harder.

Guess she's ready.

Okay baby, here I come.

I take her clit into my mouth and with the soft gummy insides of my lips I give her pressure, just the right pressure, squeezing and massaging her. Her body begins to convulse. She's not cumming, not yet. But she knows she will. Big time.

I flick her clitoris with my wet tongue. Her whole body jerks. More flicks. More jerks.

Now I know men love it when I've got a full piece of meat in my mouth, I start to hum. It drives them nuts. I usually only have to hum for a few seconds before they're shooting down my throat.

But not all girls like that on their clit.

I gave her a little test. A little hum vibration.

She screamed.

In a good way.

Now I had her. End game. Take her Jenny.

Humming and licking and flicking and sucking on her clit, I slipped two fingers deep inside her and curled them up into her G were I traced tiny circles on the roof of her cunt.

That did it.

Vivia body went into a massive series of convulsions. Her legs were on overdrive, pulling me deeper and deeper into her pussy. I grabbed her hips and pushed in harder, because that's what she needed.

I latched onto her clit and shook my head back and forth, wringing out her orgasm and calling for another. I wasn't going anywhere and she knew it.

Licking, sucking, humming, flicking, pushing, shaking, fingers curling, I stayed with her. She was slipping into another plane of existence, a sexual trance of lust and acceptance and pure, unadulterated ecstasy, learning what sheer pleasure her body is capable of gifting her.

I bored in, powering her to another, building her, and she came all the way with me, up, up, up we sailed. Her cries were guttural now, hoarse rapid-fire grunts, her desperation clear, signalling her readiness for another and I did not disappoint, slipping my tongue deep inside her, my upper lip on her clit, swirling, curling, licking, sucking.

She was gushing now, her sweet femcum pouring into my mouth. Her core was bouncing but I had no trouble staying with her because her glorious nylon thighs were clamped around my head and her desperate fingers dug deeply into my scalp, pulling me deeper, harder, so much more urgently.

And then, she came. Again.

Vivia's body convulsed and squirmed all over the bed. Her strength had magnified seeming tenfold and she rolled me to my back and rose herself up to straddle my face and rut her cunt roughly around my mouth and nose, holding my head by the ears, this orgasm vastly deeper and harder than the last. I'd lost contact with her clit but she drove two fingers onto that magical place and in a blizzard of swirling and curling, she pulled yet another orgasmic wave out of her rapidly weakening body.

When at last she was done, and the final spasming convulsion had calmed, Viv swung her leg away and scooted down my body to lay with me. She laid her head on my breast, catching her breath. I stroked her damp hair and spoke soft nothings into her ear, praising her, loving her, and when I kissed the top of her head, she lifted her chin to face me. Our lips met in a long, sweet kiss. She snaked her narrow tongue out and slid its tip along my upper lip, then gently sucked it inside her mouth for a sweet instant, then let it pop out.

Sexy.

Viv sighed. "Jenny, oh Jenny baby what am I going to do with you?"

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, well obviously, no-one has ever made me cum like that. You're a sorceress. The thought of getting that every night? Dear sweet Lilith, I can't ever let you go."

"I'm surprised. It was really you, you know. You're so damn sexy, honey."

"You think?"

"Even your name is sexy. Come on, Vivia, that's short for Vivian, right?"

"Well, right."

"I've never met a Vivia before. It's a hundred times sexier than Vivian. A thousand times."

"It is cool, isn't it?"

"Women have the V. We own the V. Vagina. Vulva..."

Vivia giggled. "You caught that, eh?"

"Everybody catches that Viv. And now I know what it means. You are a fucking sex machine."

"You don't know the half of it Jen. I'm full of surprises."

"Show me."

Without a word, she slid down my body leaving a trail of her long blonde hair spread out over my stomach. I was blind to what she was doing down there.

Viv pushed my thighs apart. I held my breath in anticipation.

She's so fucking gorgeous. Her juicy fat lips, her glistening little tongue.

Ohhh.

Her warm wet mouth closed over my soaking pussy. Her tongue lanced between my lips and waggled up and down my labia.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

I wrapped my Cervin nylon legs around her neck, resting my heels on her back.

Settling in.

I was more ready than I knew.

Vivia sensed it. Totally.

Her tongue curled around my clit.

Ohhh.

That tongue. That tongue. That gorgeous, inventive, reflexive, eager tongue.

FUUUUUUUUUCKKKK!!!

Oh she's good. Oh she's so good. Wave upon wave of electric energy pulsed through my pussy. Possessed by the sexual demon Vivia, my core lifted off the bed and slammed back down.

Again.

Again.

She stayed with me. With me. With me.

Fingers. Fingers inside me. Filling me up. Tickling my G. Ohh FUUUUUCCCKKK.

"Vivia, Vivia, Vivia, Vivia, Vivia."

I'm a babbling drooling slut.

Vivia's lips closed in on my clit. Kissing, kissing hard, sweet, the tip of her tongue boring in. Yes. Yes. Yes.

"Oh Viv I'm going to cum. Keep doing that. This is going to be epiiiiiiiic."

My core began to vibrate. From deep, deep within, a massive tidal wave crashed over my body and took me. I pulled her head in deeper, harder. She upped the pressure, staying with me.

"Cuuuummmiinnnnnggg Viv, cumming, cumming, yes oh yes, yes, yes."

My orgasms come in waves. The second always bigger than the first.

If.

If she can keep going.

"More Viv, more. I need more. Keep going."

She raised her head. What the fuck? She wants to talk? Get the fuck back down there.

FUUUUCCCCCCKKKKK.

WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?

My pussy was suddenly full. Oh so full.

And then...

With one motion, she switched on the vibrator and closed her mouth over my clit.

This is not happening.

My body exploded in orgasmic splendor, shaking and writhing and cumming and cumming and cumming. I gushed buckets around the vibrator, nearly pushing it out, but Vivia wouldn't let it.

My brain collapsed into a fog of pure ecstasy. Wave upon wave of pure joy coursed through my body, curling my toes and swamping all thought or reason. Vivia kept up the pressure, sliding the vibrator in and out of me mercilessly, sliding the deliciously evil humming head along my G-spot while her mouth sucked in my clit and released it in perfect cadence with the toy.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, I've never, never in my life...

"Cumming again, Viv! Cumming agaaaaaaaaain!" Another jolt of pure energy burst like an exploding supernova, radiating through my body from the explosive epicenter that was my throbbing, gushing cunt.

Vivia staying with me, sucking my increasingly sensitive clit, working it, not satisfied with two, going for the record, more, more, more.

"Viv! It's too much! I can't take another. My clit's too sensitive. Stop!"

But my dark evil mistress would not.

My back lifted high towards the ceiling, contorting my body in a rainbow arch, pulling my core into the air and thrusting my pussy into the vibrator and Vivia's relentless mouth.

Too much, too much, too much, too much.

Vivia pulled out the vibrator and eased off my clit. My core relaxed and fell back to the bed. I took a deep breath.

And then, she struck.

It's the surprise that did it. I was sated, happy. Done. Right?

She was not.

Three seconds of relaxed stupor was all she gave me.

Vivia slammed the vibrator home and attacked my clit with renewal enthusiasm.

I can't cum four. I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't.

Ohhh. My teeth rattled, my legs cramped, my back arched, my temples nearly burst.

I screamed.

"Noooooooo! Vivia noooooo! I'm cumming again. Ohh, ohh, ohh, ohh, ohh."

Waves of pure ecstasy poured through and through my body, tearing me apart, rendering me into a useless depraved cumming slut.

I'll never be the same woman again. Never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never.

But Vivia really did not know when to quit. Pussy was beginning to hurt.

As the final wave crashed over me I had to put a stop to it. It took all my willpower to overcome the insidious desire to keep it all going, to let her stuff me into that lusty rabbit hole and keep me cumming and cumming and cumming.

"Viv. VIV!"

I pushed down on her head and swept the vibrator out of her hands.

Free at last, I lay back as my chest heaved in recovery.

She had gone too far, but damn it, I was with her. All the way.

And I couldn't wait for another.

What did she say before? Tonight?

I droppd the vibrating dildo onto the bed and stretched my arms out towards her. "Oh Viv, come here. Come lie with me."

My new gorgeous blonde lover crawled up my body and lay beside me, her head propped up on one hand. Her lipstick was gone and her mouth and chin were soaking wet.

"Seriously Viv. Where did you learn to eat pussy like that?"

She smiled at me. "You're not the only one with a past."

My pussy tingled. I love a girl with a past. I traced a fingernail along her lips. When it reached their center, she sucked my index finger into her mouth and puckered her lips into an "O." She licked my finger inside that beautiful mouth, swirling her tongue around and around its length. The erotic feeling of her tongue on my finger made my pussy clench in desire.

This woman oozes sex.

"Do tell," I said.

"Oh no. We'll save that story for another time."

I have to have her.

"Vivia, Vivia, what am I going to do with you?"

My finger was still in her mouth, so she just smiled and sucked some more.

I wanted more. "Are you free this weekend, baby?"

Still silent, she stuck her tongue out of her mouth and reeled in a second finger.

I guess that's a yes.

***

Friday morning Vivia and I walked onto the seventh floor together. We had been so exhausted from the night before, there was no time for morning sex.

She didn't want to come to work in the same clothes, for obvious reasons, but Viv and I wear the same sizes so she borrowed something of mine.

When I offered to shower with her, she declined, asking me to go first. I thought that was a bit odd, given last night, but I shrugged my shoulders and took my shower.

When I emerged, Vivia was still laying on the bed. She saw me and stretched like a cat. "Come here, Jen. I have something for you."

Vivia was laying on the bed with her legs apart. She'd been masturbating. Somehow that left me with a feeling of disappointment, like I'd been left out.

But there was no time for sex, so I had no idea what she was going to give me. She sat up and rotated on her bum to sit in the edge of the bed, her feet on the floor, then patted the bed beside her, signalling for me to sit.

"Jenny, I want to give you something. Something so special I know you'll think about me all day. A little gift that will bring you back to my bed tonight."

Curious, I sat down without a word, close enough for our hips to touch. Vivia opened her legs and to my surprise, dipped two fingers of her left hand deep into her vagina. Withdrawing them, she dipped the fingers of her right hand deep into her pussy.

Vivia angled herself to face me. She reached for my head and swirled her fingers behind my ears. The warm dampness of her sex infused my skin and embraced my brain in a lusty cloud.

"This is called Vabbing. Vaginal dabbing. My pheromones are strongest in my pussy and I want them all over you when you sit near me at work today. Here, give me your arm."

I smiled. "Another V."

Vivia laughed. She took my left arm in one hand and dipped the fingers from her other into her pussy. She drew them out, dripping with her femcum. She traced her juices on the inside of my left elbow, then the right.

"I'm dabbing my vaginal juices on your pulse points. Here, you do it. Come on, sample me."

Fuck she's sexy.

She took my hand and pulled it between her legs. Taking hold of my index and middle fingers, she inserted them deep inside her steaming wet hole. I curled them up into her G for sport, and she sucked in a breath, but I knew there was no time.

She pulled my fingers out of her cunt and guided them to my neck, swishing her cunt juice all around my jugular. The effect of her essence on my throat was instant and intoxicating, and I swooned on the side of the bed.

She caught me and pulled me in for a deep, longing kiss. "Think about me today, and what I'm going to do to you tonight," she whispered.

"Here baby," I said. "Let me do you."

I took her hand and separated out her index and middle fingers. I spread my knees far apart, pulled her hand between my legs and slid her two fingers into my pussy. She dawdled there, squirming them around, getting me excited. I pulled on her wrist, drawing her fingers out and painted her neck with my juices. Marking her.

"You're not the only one with a few tricks up her pussy," I said, smiling.

"That's why I picked you up last night, honey," Viv said, pecking me on the cheek and standing. "I'm done with virgins. We've both seen the world and we know how to fuck. When you told me about your time at the strip club, especially when you talked about the VIP rooms, all your experience with women, I knew I had to have you."

"Well you got me."

"We're made for each other."

We shared one more deep kiss before starting our day.

At work, it was nearly impossible to concentrate. I didn't know if Vabbing really was a thing, but holy shit I could not banish Vivia from my thoughts or my pussy for an instant. Once I stole a look at her across my desk. She puckered her glossy crimson lips and stuck an index finger inside her mouth to the second knuckle.

I nearly came right there.

***

At lunch, Aurora, Viv and I took our salads downstairs and sat together on one of the benches on Sixth Avenue. We compared notes on our plan to recruit women from the seventh floor for a day of protesting the dress code.

Being fairly new, I only had four girls interested.

Vivia had been busy. "I got twenty-four," she said proudly. "You were right Jen. There's a lot of resentment out there."

Aurora sat back and smiled. I knew she had something impressive to reveal. "Jenny, your idea has caught on like wildfire. Every fucking girl on the floor hates, hates, HATES this dress code."

"There's an inner slut in all of us," I said, winking at Viv.

"I got eighty-two for the chat. And more coming in every hour." Her phone dinged. "Eighty-four."

"That makes one hundred and eight women out of two hundred forty on the floor. How many more can we get?"

"I'll know by the end of the day."

"Okay," I said. "Send me the list and I'll add them to the chat and we'll get this puppy going. So, what's our new dress code going to look like?"

"Mini skirt for me," Vivia said. "And I'm going to have a waist at last."

"I've got the girls," Aurora said, looking down. "They're coming out to play."

"Yes!" I said. "I'm going for the whole enchilada."

I held my Diet Coke in the air. "Ready to make some good trouble girls?" Viv and Aurora picked up their waters and we clinked in the middle.

"To slut power," I said.

"To slut power," we all said.

We all laughed. That afternoon, I built the chat group.

Back at my desk, I noticed movement across from me. I looked over at Vivia. She licked her upper lip and brushed her hair back. With a sensuous swish of her hand, she caressed her neck. I touched the spot on my neck where Viv had dabbed her cunt juices on me. I can't be sure it had worked, but I was so horny all day I nearly masturbated in the bathroom. But I instead, I decided it would be more fun to keep my libido high.

This weekend was going to be a write off.

~~

Josie's Notes

Jenny's got a plan to bring big reforms to Poulsen Pendergast Masterly & Vonn, the old-boys PR firm where she's just completed her probationary period. Jenny wants to grow in the company and break through the (very low) glass ceiling. She's got a Harvard MBA and she's smart as a whip. She can do this!

Next chapter we'll see the beginning of the women's revolution. Jenny's willing to use more than her wardrobe and her brain to get what she wants.

A lot more.

Don't forget to have a look at my website if you want to see images of Jenny, Aurora and Vivia, along with a few other characters not yet introduced. See my profile for the address.

Oh, please rate my stories and remember, I love, love, luuuuuv comments! They might even help shape the direction of future chapters.