Ariana's Game of Choice Ch. 02

---Payback Is a Test Run---

One last look in the mirror... and I blinked. A stranger was staring back. Didn't look like me... not even close! The black-and-white color-block ensemble was too tight... too flashy! The over-the-knee platform boots were too glossy... too shiny! And then there was the strapless crop top... pushed up to reveal my cheeky cherries. And the matching miniskirt... basically cling-wrapped to my body.

The outfit wasn't the only thing that screamed not me. There was also the place... a real nightmare! I was in a rathole of a room at the 'Red Carpet Realm'... seedy... greasy. Kneeling on the floor, I was facing the door... waiting... anticipating. I knew exactly what was about to happen. My heart thumped... but I kept going. Because sometimes... well... sometimes things just had to be done!

He took his sweet time... obviously. He loved his dramatic entrances, making me simmer in my seedy surroundings. I was literally about to go hunt him down and murder his sorry ass when the door opened... finally! It swung open... slow... wide. Sunrays poured in... bathing my body in bright light... making my golden skin glow. I blinked... couldn't see a damn thing... couldn't even make out who had opened the door.

And then a shadow covered the setting sun. Slowly, the figure took shape. I recognized him. It was Colton... my classmate... and fellow Aetherhead employee. The man who was collecting his reward. He stepped into the shabby room... but left the door open. Cool... let the birds watch.

I opened my mouth to warn him... but I thought better of it. This was his moment, and I didn't want to ruin it. He stared... took his time checking out my curves. I felt his gaze... hot as a laser beam... sliding along the teardrop shape of my B-cups... lingering on my hardening nipples.

"That all?" Colton asked. "Those two molehills? They're all the skills you got?"

Wow... okay. That was totally presumptuous... and super wrong! Because I had so much more to offer, especially in my head. But none of that mattered tonight. He wasn't here for my SAT scores. I knew what he wanted and I went along with it, even though I didn't like the fact that the door was still open.

I leaned forward... seductive... provocative. Unfortunately, my naughty nuggets were too small to dangle from my chest, so I turned around with an extra dose of elegance... as elegant as possible on all fours. But I didn't stop. Shaking my butt, I slowly pulled up my tight mini skirt... real slow... like molasses slow. There they were - Skill #2 and Skill #3 - my shaved, smooth snatch and my ample ass. Fantastic... and not objectifying at all!

Gyrating my hips, I made my booty spin. Once I was sure I'd cast my hypnotic spell, I turned back around. And he was standing right in front of me... Colton... belt in hand. He put it around my neck and the buckle clicked. The arrogant assclown had me on a leash. Wonderful... and totally normal.

He pulled and I followed. As if I had a choice! Once I was up on my high-heeled boots, he yanked me forward. Three steps... then I hit the wall... literally and metaphorically! My hands and cheek were pressed against some questionable wallpaper... my cutie cups were sticking out from my chest... my miniskirt was bunched up around my hips... my ass was stuck out like the pompous prick had a magnet in his pants. Ready for a pat down, officer! But the officer was Colton... and the door was still open.

The dickwad didn't hesitate. Just shoved his hand between my legs... demanding... dominant. I wanted to shriek in surprise, but that would have been an act. Instead, I sighed in ecstasy, that was genuine! The dismissive douche didn't play around, his hand sliding through my slit... once... twice. He was rude and crude. But yeah, I was wet... no surprise!

I didn't even get to making a sound. The fingerbanging was over before he'd even touched my clit. Hands off... pussy dripping... end of story!

"What's my vegan vixen doing in a hellhole like this?" Colton asked... sly... devious.

Yeah... well... this whole thing was his genius idea. The tragic twerp had picked the time and place. As if I'd ever step into this petri dish of pestilence on my own. But that didn't matter! Tonight was about the pompous prick and his perv parade. He'd gotten me that student job at Aetherhead. And then he'd helped me adjust to my role over the first weeks. He deserved a reward... he deserved this. And I knew what to do... how to act.

"Dear valued test person, your parcel has been delivered to this package locker. You used the right pickup code, so you can collect your test object." I droned, laying it on extra thick. "Please enjoy our brand-new prototype: the Aetherdoll. Plug 'n' play, stuff 'n' stretch, iron out the kinks. Have a blast, sir!"

Yay, living the dream! I was totally objectifying myself like a good little bimbot... exactly as he'd requested when I suggested this meeting. But the dismissive douche barely even cracked a smile. Awesome!

"Aetherbot? Yeah, we really need to workshop that name," Colton said matter-of-factly. "I hear there's a realbot called Aria. Pretty on brand for you, huh?"

Oh, boy! Not only did he skip the whole praise the girl for making an effort, he also kicked things off by putting a scare in me. Perfect, because obviously that's what every girl wants on a first date.

"Stuff 'n' stretch, huh?" the cocky coder kept yapping.

And then he got right down to the quality control, plunging a finger straight up my cunt like jamming a charger into a sexbot's port. Right off the bat, he started drilling in and out. He got rougher and cruder, like he was inspecting loose wiring. My body took over. I couldn't help it... well... actually I embraced it. God no!

Every thrust made me groan... loud... louder than the hooker next door riding her sad excuse of a client. My hips moved, matching the rhythm. My nipples scraped against the lovely sandpaper they called wall covering. A second finger slid in... no resistance. The third finger needed some wriggling and a juicy smack followed. The fingers thrust faster... harder. More moaning... more smacking sounds. Welcome to the alpha test!

I wasn't Ariana anymore. I wasn't smart or skilled. I was the Aetherdoll... a set of wet holes. And I was about to cum... no cock... no real test drive required. Lucky me!

I came... almost! I was ready to climax, every nerve firing... but my cunt clutched at air. The fingers were gone... pulled out. My poor pussy was yawning open, longing for the real thing. But nope! Instead, a tug on the belt dragged me off the wall. I stumbled into the motel room... finally away from the door... that was still wide open.

The alpha asshole led me over to a table. It creaked when I grabbed the edge... ready to collapse any second. Another tug... and I was kneeling on the rickety circle... chipped and sticky like a platform in a strip club. One more tug... I was standing on top of the table... the legs shuddering under my weight... wobbly... unsteady.

No need for instructions! My body was working independently of my brain. My hips started shaking... each movement more sweeping. I squatted down, legs splayed... salacious... seductive. I revealed a glimpse of my smooth snatch... tantalizing... alluring. Classy!

A little sneak peek... nothing more! Knees closed... and opened. Close... open... longer. Close... open... leaning backwards. The table creaked under my weight. My shoulders hit the sticky surface and I lifted my hips like I was trying to launch my crotch into orbit. A ray of light hit the welcome mat to my personal no-tell motel... and the door was still open.

I wanted to slam the damn thing shut, but instead my hips shifted into high gear.... rocking up and down... humping the air... so subtle. Honestly? It was lewd enough to make any stripper blush... but not enough to make Colton move. He just sat there on the bed, watching the free show. Frustration was brewing in me, driving me on. I needed his human flesh drive... I needed him all over me... claiming my body... railing my pussy. But he didn't move. Love the enthusiasm, douche!

My desperation cranked up, so I grabbed my dangling beef drapes... one in each hand... and peeled them apart. Opening the doors to my no-tell motel room, I revealed my safe box... and still nothing! Cool... cool, cool... not panicking at all.

"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling as hard as my cunt twitched. "Please, stuff your Aribot!"

Spectacular! Now, I was getting creative, coming up with naughty names. The things you do out of lust.

"You need it that bad, huh?" Colton smirked. "Gotta work for it, realbot reject. Show me how much you want it."

Ah, that dominant, commanding tone! Who could resist that? It made my heart pound and my pussy throb. I'd never felt so exposed... so vulnerable. But the fire in my loins was too strong to ignore. My hips began spinning... slow... deliberate. The table creaked and swayed beneath me... dangerous... precarious. Any second, it could crumble, making me crash and burn!

Desperation clawed at my insides. My hips thrust faster like a bunny humping in high speed. I pulled my fun flaps apart... wider and wider ... exposing the VIP area of my no-tell motel. Thanks, thirst... for even making me think that!

But hey, opening up... literally and metaphorically... worked! The pervy prick moved... finally! He sauntered over... casual... almost bored. He bent over me and looked deep into my cracked open safe box. Nice view, right?

And then I winced... when I heard the sound of spitting. And I flinched... when I felt the spitball hitting my bacon blinds.

"Not good enough! Keep stretching that cunt open. Not ready for the big boy express yet." Colton found the douchiest way to refer to his cock. "Don't worry, I can see no brain threatening to fall out."

Cool! He peeked up my 'loop of laments' like he was checking to see if a light was burning at the other end of the tunnel... which was my head. Normal... super normal!

"You wanted an expanded role at Aetherhead, didn't you?" The dickweasel asked. "Gotta get an expanded hole first."

Wow! What a breathtaking pun... a real word wizard. But honestly? I'd practically begged for it. Cringe or not, it sent shockwaves through my twat and made me move. I shoved my hands into my pussy... two fingers each. I pulled... wider and wider... stretching my snatch to its limit. Meanwhile, the dismissive douche rounded the rickety table. Reaching my head, he grabbed the belt and dragged me around. My body slithered over the sticky surface like a malfunctioning roomba wiping the stage clean for the next skanky stripper in line. What a blast!

He stopped when my head dangled over the edge. I knew the position... the sword swallower. On my back... head hanging down... laid out like a boob barn buffet. There was no straighter way down the throat... I was gonna become a human holster for his monster magnum. Neat!

Colton towered over me... dick in hand. No warning... unless you count open wide, bitch as a public service announcement. He just rammed that thing down as far as my mouth allowed. The only thing that stopped him were my lips... they couldn't stretch any wider. My face was stuffed. Nailed it... literally.

There was no finesse or foreplay... just a straight-up, balls-to-the-chin face fucking. The dirtbag grabbed my head and hammered down like he was trying to stuff a bazooka into a pocket holster. No way, my throat could take his colossal cock. But his hips pistoned like a jackhammer... unrelenting... drilling deeper and deeper. My throat stretched... adapted... and his shaft slipped in. Wow... biology can be a nightmare!

"Good bimbot!" Colton exclaimed in between grunts. "That's a first for me."

And my cheeks glowed with pride. Apparently, self-respect wasn't part of the Aetherdoll software. In my position... spread out like a gutted junk bot... I realized why the position was called the sword swallower, though personally devils69 sounded more accurate. But the skull fucking continued... no break... no respite.

Thrust... my gag reflex started singing a sloppy opera. Thrust... my flexible tip actuator got tenderized with repeated punches. Thrust... his knob hit the back of my throat. Thrust... he slammed his stick so deep I could have French-kissed his prostate.

"How's it hanging?" Colton chuckled while resting his balls on my forehead.

Men... what a wonderful species! His shaft was buried down my gullet, so I couldn't respond, only gag harder. As if the dickwad gave a damn about my opinion. My body struggled. And yet, my legs were still spread wide offering a nice view of my Very-Inviting-Pussy... my hands were still in my cunt stretching my snatch open. Priorities... I guess.

Gluck... he picked up where he left off, pounding my throat like his cockhead was searching for a loading station at the end of my gullet. Gluck... I gagged like a bimbot coughing up a wire clog. Gluck... slobber splashed out of my mouth. Gluck... rivers of drool ran down my cheeks... or rather up my face. Details... they matter!

"Looks like the Aribot is well oiled," the cocky coder kept taunting me.

Funny! And the only logical response was to gag louder... harder... wetter. It was a sad symphony of choking and sloshing... wet squelches whenever his whisk stirred the slobber in my mouth... wet splats whenever the drool spluttered from my lips and landed on my cheeks. The dirtbag didn't care... just kept fucking my throat, turning my face into a sad clown's mask. Thick slime... oozed up my cheeks in rivers, gumming up my eyelashes. Thick slime... mixed with my mascara, decorating my cheeks with black confetti.

And then... out of nowhere... I heard a hawk tuah... the male version. Next thing I know, a nasty spitball splashed against my clit. No idea where that came from! And a second later... Colt was gone... my head hung free. I tried to see what was going on, but my sticky lashes made it hard to open my eyes.

Finally, I clocked him... the desk clerk! Greasy long hair... ugly gut... wrinkly skin. What a sight for sore eyes... not! It was him... no doubt. The open door had ratted us out... of course. This is how I die... in a pool of drool... in the saddest motel in existence!

Naturally, the crummy concierge got a front-row view to everything... my teardrop titties... my nipples pointing east-west... my shaved snatch. Nice! Then and there, I decided denial was a solid life plan and rolled off the table, ready to rearrange my outfit and pretend this never happened.

Yeah, I know... it sounds as ridiculous as it looked. Spoiler alert: I didn't get far. Two hands grabbed my tempting tits ... squeezing my naughty nuggets... shoving me back down.

"Like what you see?" Colton asked the bloated bastard.

Great, just what I needed! The delusional douche acted like this whole disaster was totally normal. I wasn't sure whether I should laugh or cry, so obviously I fingerfucked my cunt while the men had a chat. Classic!

"That ain't the kinda trailer trash whore we usually get 'round here," the lobby lurker praised me... sorta. "You breakin' in some fresh meat?"

Crucify me! I wanted to jump up and slap the grin off the creep's face... just for insinuating I was a whore. But honestly? The messy clown's mask didn't really help my case.

"You wanna tell this fine gentleman? Or you wanna tap it out in muff code, beta-test bimbo?" Colton decided to make things worse.

Perfect, because nothing says 'things can't possibly get any more degrading' like a joke about your sloppy wet snatch making squishy noises every time you breathe. But he had a point... as my fingers confirmed. They were still banging my beef box... absentmindedly... creating sloppy smacks. So yeah, I almost did it... squeezing out an SOS... a squelch of shame. Maybe, the hooker next door could decode the message: kill me, just kill me.

But nope! For some reason... probably a bad case of dickdumbness... I decided to do something worse. Lifting my head, I gave the flea circus warden my best innocent smile... which probably looked more like a cracked-out whore clown auditioning for a bargain-bin porn parody of It.

"Don't worry, sir! This hotfix hussy's getting trained. We're testing for usability," I said, somehow still playing along. "It's a stress test! Requirements are stuffing 'n' stretching. Real technical stuff, you know?"

Unbelievable! Somehow, I slid into this whole Aribot act like I'd been born for it... acting dumb... giggling dumber. Never tried it before but turned out a natural talent.

"Man, that's some weird shit. But not the freakiest stuff I've seen happen in these hallowed halls," the crummy concierge shook his head. "Ain't know nothing 'bout hotfixes 'n' requirements 'n' all that nerd crap. But sure as shit, I know how to train a trashy tramp."

Congratulations, old man! Good for you, but no one asked. You've got a look at a sexy young stunner. That should be enough to brighten your day. Now, go back to sniffing towels behind the desk or whatever you were doing before.

"Sounds just like what we need," Colton had other plans. "This is an early model. We can use all the feedback we can get."

Shoot me! That was a plot twist I hadn't see coming. The alpha asshole had to be kidding... but he wasn't... not even a little bit. All this time, his hands had been on my tits, mauling my brazen boobs. And then... suddenly... he let go. Before I even realized it, he grabbed a fistful of my long hair... because why not.

A tug... Colton dragged me off the creaking table. A shove... he sent me stumbling straight into the arms of the creepy desk clerk. A grab... the greasy gremlin stopped me by latching onto my tits. A press... he started kneading my cheeky cherries like he was trying to squeeze juice from forbidden fruits. A grip... his mauling became rougher until I spread my legs and threw my crotch out like a desperate bunny chasing a carrot. A crush... the morbid manager worked my tits over until my legs gave up and I dropped to my knees.

Two options: either the lobby lurker confused a stress test with stress balls because he was mauling my tits like they were his emotional support toys... or he thought 'stretching' meant kneading my boobs like discount pizza dough. Whatever! He looked pretty pleased... couldn't tell if he was proud of his boob abuse or just disappointed in my subpar rack specs. Either way, no one cared.

When I knelt on the grimy floor, he grabbed the belt... still looped around my neck... and dragged me across the scummiest motel room on earth... on all fours... like I'd leveled up from cracked-out whore clown to a prancing circus pony.

Honestly, I would have preferred actual sawdust to the sticky carpet that smelled like wet socks... definitely not the 'red carpet treatment' the motel name promised. Crawling along, I noticed the door was still open. Amazing! Why didn't we invite all the guests to watch? We could hand out popcorn and a rating sheet. The more the merrier, right?

We reached the door. Next to it: the bathroom on one side and the sink on the other. Apparently, the architect had decided it would be a good idea to place the bathroom fixtures in the main room. Real cute... not! The appliances? A basin... cracked and sagging off the wall. A mirror... milky around the edges. Swivel towel bars... pointing at me like two judgmental fingers. Real cutting-edge design!

Naturally, the greasy gremlin dragged me toward them. Oh no... no, no, no! Not a good idea, but this rathole wasn't really a place of good decisions. The creepy desk clerk yanked the belt until I was back on my high-heeled boots... ass facing bars... eyes looking at my classmate. He was back in his favorite spot... sprawled on the bed like the sultan of smut watching the production of his newest fuck flick.

"Look at those nice, round poles! They're waving you over! Who could say no to that? Definitely not the plug-n-play princess we programmed," the dismissive douche crushed my last remaining hopes.

I glowered at the code cowboy like I could kill him with my glares. But then I felt two calloused hands mashing my tits together, pushing me back... strict... bossy. I felt a round bar slip between my ass cheeks... slick... probably glazed with decades of sweat and cum. Charming!

But honestly? This was so gross I had to do something. So, I reached back and spread my butt cheeks... to offer better access... because obviously solving a bad situation with worse decisions is the sensible thing to do.

So, I backed up until the bar stabbed my snatch. No stopping there! I rammed my ass back and impaled my pussy on the pole... determined... merciless. See? Quick learner! Taking Colton's facefucking as inspiration, I pounded myself harder than he'd drilled my tonsils. Real overachiever! My cunt was so wet I drenched that bar in pussyjuices, basically giving it a pressure wash. Not my proudest moment... but my horniest. Stupid hormones!

"It's called 'stuff-n-stretch'! Ain't seeing much stretching," the dickweasel called me out.

Awesome! Just when I found the right rhythm to use some greasy bathroom fixtures for my pleasure. My body didn't want to stop moving... but my brain wanted to obey. Oh no! How could I get them back in sync? Easy! I slid my snatch off the bar and let go off my butt cheeks. My hand grabbed the second swivel bar... lined it up... and went to town.

Two poles... one hole... zero braincells! Ramming my ass back, I double plugged my pussy... determined... merciless. See? Quick learner... thinking with my clit instead of my head. One bar had the girth of a good 3 inches... nice... manageable. Two poles made it 6 inches of wood railing... thick... challenging. Way more than the average cock... but not quite Colton's colossus.

Only problem? I'd taken his glorious cum gun... once. He'd been in control, fucking my funhole slowly... carefully. Now, it was just me making the decisions. And here I was doing the opposite... hammering my happy hole onto the double bars fast... reckless. Why? Who even knows anymore.

Was it smart? Absolutely not! Was it fun? Absolutely... in a totally gross, but I'm weirdly into it kinda way. At least, for me. For my snatch? Not so much. Still, my pussy gave it her all. My cunthole strained like a rubber o-ring around a too-big pipe. My dripping beef drapes flapped around like the plug-n-play princess waving to her mechanical people. Pride flushed over me when I managed to hit top speed... an orgasm brewing in my core.

A tug... the creepy desk clerk yanked me off the bars. A jerk... I dropped back on hands and knees. A tug... I crawled across the gross carpet. A jerk... I got yanked back to my feet... legs straight... bent over.

This time, I couldn't see Colton... he was hidden behind the gargoyle's gut. I dragged my eyes up... over his Hawaiian shirt... stretched to its limit... the buttons almost popping off. I reached his face and got greeted by the sleaziest smile I'd ever seen. 'Hello, sir, nice to get intimately acquainted'... not.

The crummy concierge put his greasy paw on my shoulder... calm... calculated. He pushed me back... slow... patient. I didn't fight it... didn't even say a word. Turns out, the Aribot had only one operational protocol: executing bad choices.

Oh goodie! My ass hit something... round... bulbous. The doorknob! I was standing in front of the closet... the doors barely hanging on to the frame. My eyes shot open... panic collided with excitement in my brain. It was big... too big. I groaned... but the bloated bastard didn't care. He just kept pushing and my poor battered pussy strained. I grunted... but the greasy gremlin didn't give a damn. He kept shoving like he was trying to cram a starlink dish into a charging port and my snatch screamed 'no, thanks'. The knob was too wide to fit into my slit. Eventually, even the lobby lurker had to realize this wasn't happening.

Big sigh... he made his disappointment known. Big sigh... I was just as disappointed. But hey, at least, I'd left a nice wet stain, marking it as my tramp territory. Real proud!

A tug... the crusty old creep yanked on the belt. A thud... I dropped back on all fours. A tug... he led me over to the worn-out bed. A thud... my ass hit the battered nightstand. Another knob... the handle of the top drawer... big... but not as big. Worth a try!

Oh glory! Another furniture I was supposed to mark. The creepy desk clerk pushed me against the faux-wood veneer. I knew I couldn't disappoint... not again! I groaned as I felt instant suction. My ham halo managed to wrap around the knob like I was personally thanking the nightstand for existing. Actually, I turned it into a whole make-out session, massaging the bulb with my fleshy funnel... sucking it like a cockhead. I was getting there... the pleasure brewing in my loins was about to boil over. Any second... any second!

A tug... the greasy gremlin pulled me off the knob. A squelch... my snatch peeled off with a wet smack. A tug... the flea circus warden led me around the bed. A squelch... my cunt sheathed the remote control bolted to the wall. It was a black brick... worn smooth with age and anonymous hands. The sight alone gave me the creeps, but my suction tube clutched it anyway like it was trying to suck up all the crumbs that clung to the crevices around the buttons. Disgusting!

My body moved on its own, my veiny vacuum sliding back and forth... fast... unrestrained. I felt each and every button like a ripped rubber. It was driving me wild! A few thrusts were enough and I came... hard... epic. Disgustingly turned on!

I climaxed so hard I completely zoned out. I wasn't Ariana anymore... not even the Aribot... I was just ecstatic pleasure! Wave after wave of blissful joy surged through me. Disgustingly effective!

I opened my eyes again and found myself standing at the end of the beaten mattress... sagged in the middle... a map of cumstains all over it. In front of me... the morbid manager... belt in hand. Behind me... Colton... sitting on the bed in a manspread. To my left... the door... still open.

I felt it before I saw it. The creepy desk clerk pushed me down and Colton's fat cockhead knocked on my meat portal. The bedsprings screamed as I sank onto the monster magnum. My cunt had been freshly trained... broken in... alpha tested. And yet, the rigid rifle ripped my twat wide open. I opened my mouth... to moan... to squeak. But my screams got stuck in my throat.

The crusty old clerk pawed at my cheeky cherries... seizing them... squeezing them. He used my tits like handles... yanking me up and down... guiding my humping. Too fast for the size of the sizzle stick! Colton's colossus was tearing me apart, but I was in the gargoyle's grip... literally under his thump. I couldn't do anything about it... didn't want to do anything about it.

The old mattress rodeo continued. I was just a joytoy, my sleeve valve sliding up and down the plump piston. I started panting... still not able to scream or moan. Instead, I shook my head dramatically to object... when I actually wanted more.

"Arch that trash back," the bloated bastard hissed, spit spraying in my face. "Let my boy see what a gaped-out gutter whore looks like."

Oh joy! What a nice invitation! But wait... he said 'boy'... and he made a pun that sounded suspiciously familiar. This couldn't... this shouldn't. Was he Daddy Colt?

Before I could investigate any further, I lifted my ass and bent over. Reaching back, I spread my ass cheeks and showed off that gaped-out gutter hole.

"See? Flapping open like a busted tire on the freeway," I blurted out and gasped at my own words.

Great! Those prevy puns were rubbing off on me. But still, it was the perfect description... no doubt about it. My cunt was no longer a sweet vertical smile but the open mouth from Munch's scream with sad curtains dangling down the sides of the painting.

A tug... the greasy gremlin led me away from Colton. This was still the alpha test, so apparently my gape needed to be checked and measured. A shove... he pushed me against the knob of the closet. A sigh... it still didn't fit. A tug... the morbid manager led me back to the stake. More testing was needed.

A groan... my voice was back. A pant... the custard cannon split my slit. A groan... my pussy was so wet the colossal cock slid in all the way. A pant... my taut tunnel completely sheathed the shaft until my fat bacon flaps rested on his balls. I groaned and panted... alternately... when the creepy old clerk made me bounce on the boner like he'd just invented a new pole dance move and was showing it to his stable of strippers.

A moan... the cockhead stabbed my cervix until the massive magnum bulged my stomach. A glare... I shot daggers at the lobby lurker... when I actually wanted him to push further. His fingers were in my mouth, dragging me along like a burnt-out Tesla being winched onto a tow truck. They reeked of nicotine and tasted of something even worse. I retched and still sucked on them... eager... greedy.

A glower... I shot accusations at the greasy gremlin... when the news actually made me leak so much that cuntjuices pooled on the poser's pubes. His free hand was pulling out his fossil fuckstick... just as big as Colton's colossus... confirming my assumption. This was Daddy Colt... literally and physically!

"Squeal," he rasped, more spit landing on my cheeks. "Let's hear how ruined you are."

Absolutely, because misery loves company. I almost choked when I heard that order... too outrageous... too scandalous. I stared... even more reproachful. I lifted my ass and bent over. Reaching back, I spread my ass cheeks and showed off the ravaged ruins of my pretty pussy. See? Natural dirty talker.

"Fucking shredded! My port's so blown out you could park a goddamn server rack in it," I slurred, my whole body shaking. "You wrecked me so bad it feels like my cpu's falling out, you sick fucks."

A shock... I was stunned by my own words. When had I become so nasty? Before this student job, I'd been such a polite girl, always mincing my words. Looks like those days were over. But this wasn't the time for big life questions. The next test was overdue.

A tug... the crummy concierge led me over to the closet. A shove... he pushed me against the knob of the closet. A sigh... I barely felt it, my leaking loophole was too loose. But my ass cheeks hit the doors... a surefire sign! The knob was in... my pussy had managed to gobble it up... finally!

A scowl... I should have been cheering, but I was too outraged. Bent over, the rigid relic was dangling right in front of my face. It reeked of sweat... not much better than his fingers. No way, I was ever gonna touch that thing... not even with a ten-foot pole.

"Congratulations, your fleshy fossil's still there." I hissed. "Hard pass! Get that rusty skeleton key outta my face."

A push back... finally! About time I made a stand. I was a strong woman and wouldn't let the men take things any further than I was comfortable... not even alpha asshole and morbid macho.

The creep's reaction? He just chuckled and kept watching. I hadn't even noticed, but all this time I was banging that bulb... like I was trying to make that closet collapse. And then the bloated bastard stepped aside. His son took his place, furiously jerking his cock.

A flash of inspiration ... a father--son duo standing in front of me... a classmate and his daddy... both jerking their cocks to the sight of my young, naked body bouncing on a cheap doorknob. Yay! Like I needed another reason to hate... love this. It was the nastiest stuff I could think off and it made my juices flow like nothing before.

I was quicker than the men! The climax hit me before the dismissive douche could cum. The muscles in my legs and arms vibrated like strings on a violine. I had to press my ass against the closet to remain standing. It creaked... dangerously... close to collapse.

A splash... right in the face! Colton's cock erupted and turned into a hose. His juicy jizz squirted out in a million sticky splashes, dosing my cheeks... my lips... my chin. Wow! It turned my face into a sprinkled donut.

A seep... too late! Daddy Colt had taken his son's place and let loose. His man jam oozed out of his vintage wand in one extra-thick ribbon of matured mayonnaise... all over my forehead. He added a splotch of his white fossil fuel to my left cheek... and then my right cheek. His old man oil inched down my face in a sluggish, syrupy flow. Woah! Now, my face was a glazed donut.

"You said you ain't touching my dick. Said nothing 'bout my cum." The bloated bastard gave me a shrug.

Hot damn! This was a simple desk hand. And yet, he'd managed to trick me... a clever coed. Not my proudest moment! But hey, it was done. I'd worked off the reward and made a whole family happy in the process. That was something.

With their balls empty, Captain Colt and Daddy Dong showed their shared genes. They lost interest in me real quick... couldn't pack up their pricks fast enough.

"See you tomorrow," my classmate gave me a quick nod.

And then he was out of the door and on his way. His old man, on the other hand, took a bit more time. He watched me pull my clothes back into place. Yep! I was still wearing my black-and-white ensemble... top pushed under my tits... skirt bunched around my hips. Fascinating... and practical!

"You know, you wanna hustle in here, you gotta pay a fee," the morbid manager informed me. "The kickback's 200 bucks. It's a fix price for a day, so you can stay 'n' meet more clients if you like."

Oh yeah! That's exactly how I wanted to spend the rest of my day. Another glare... I was killing the creep with my looks. A glow on my face... shame burned on my cheeks so hot I felt like I was about to crumble into dust.

"Tell you what, whore," the crummy concierge suggested. "I'll make it 150 if you meet me at the front desk with your payment still on your face."

So, this is where I die! I was never gonna escape this hellhole, was I? This was totally outlandish! I was no hooker and no spermwalker either. But this wasn't up for discussion. The greasy gremlin had already turned around and left the room before I'd even understood the meaning of it all.

I swallowed hard. More than anything, I wanted to run back to my car and drive away, never to be seen again. But I knew I had to bring this thing to an end. Still, I couldn't help but wonder how it had come to this. Just a few weeks as a student worker and I'd turned from a professional programmer into a stupid slut. And this slut was ready. For... whatever was coming next.

---Great Things Take Time---

*Day 1 -- Adapt like Water*

The woman who walked into Aetherhead HQ was a completely different person from the woman who'd entered the 'Red Carpet Realm'... she looked completely different too. I was a young IT student who'd just finished a competitive training program and landed one of the most worshipped student jobs in town. Yay for me!

I marched into the building brimming with confidence, because obviously I'd conquer this male stronghold in record time. The place was brand new... cutting-edge technology... new work office concepts... basically every student's wet dream. The company was made up of two teams... five programmers and one culture manager per team. All the programmers were male... predictably. All culture managers were female... conspicuous. And, of course, there was management... the three founders. They lived on the top floor... like tech gods... with their own private entrance and their own private assistants. Iconic!

Colton... Mr. Codefather... and Javonte... Mr. Merge Master... had won the competition, so they each got an assistant gig with the programming teams. That left me... the third wheel. Nobody had planned with me, so Mr. Okafor made a decision on the fly. I'd take a flexible role. Loved that! Flexibility required you to be skilled, smart, and adaptable. That sounded just like me... the girlboss!

Turns out, flexibile also meant do whatever needs to be done and no one else wants to do. In my first week, I was stuck babysitting the reception desk. Excuse me? I was supposed to work as a glorified gatekeeper sorting mail, handling deliveries, greeting visitors? Adorable! I was a trained programmer... not some keyboard candy... and definitely not front desk decoration.

What a downgrade! But I wasn't gonna spiral... not that quickly. After seeing the work environment, I made a decision: I'd prove myself and show this caveman crew I could code circles around Javonte and Colton. I'd work my way up, rise to team assistant, and eventually become a full-time programmer. Wait and see!

First, though, I had to survive the first week... as a receptionist. But I swore I'd stay alert... on the lookout for the golden opportunity. And I meant it! I'd jump at any chance... without hesitation... no matter what it was. Only problem? Working at the front desk was so monotonous... so boring. I was happy about any change, even if it came in the form of the janitor. Aetherhead placed great importance on the staff's appearance, so he didn't look like your standard greasy old groundskeeper.

This guy was young... in good shape... and came into the lobby several times to check that everything was running smoothly. Unnecessary, but at least a quick chat to take my mind off things. When he rolled through for the fifth time pretending to check some lights, I actually looked forward to it. I even helped him restock some office supplies, because obviously I'm a total team player and polite professional. But then... on his way out... he gave me a weird little headshake. He looked somewhat disappointed, like I'd failed a secret test. Stopping at the front desk, he pulled out his phone and typed something, frowning like I'd personally offended him. Super normal behavior... not!

*Day 2 -- You Learn Something New Every Day*

Much of the same vibe... more menial tasks. Javonte came by, and he was totally stressed out. His task was to troubleshoot some software the team was supporting, and he was completely overwhelmed. Unusual, considering he was Mr. Merge Master, but I was able to help him. I actually fixed the bug for him. Like I said... I'm good at programming! And what happened next? In the following meeting, Javonte was praised to the skies while my name wasn't even mentioned. That backstabber took all the credit and I got black-holed. Total man's world!

After lunch, electricians came to do some cable stuff. Not my job, but I still showed them the way, because obviously it was nice to be appreciated for once. Honestly, I was even more welcoming. But the result was the same. The men looked disappointed when they left. And once again, they stopped at the front desk, pulled out their phones, and typed something. Couldn't be weirder!

Shortly before closing, Colton stopped by... Mr. Codefather in full smug mode. He wouldn't shut up about how amazing his job was. Thanks... just what I wanted to hear! The cocky coder even asked about my tasks like he cared. And every time I told him what I was doing... answering calls, issuing visitor badges... he stopped me and laughed. Thanks... just what I needed!

But then... miracle of miracles... he actually listened when I told him about the weird phone thing. He even showed me the explanation, and it shocked me to the core. Too absurd to be true! There was a QR code on the front desk... tiny... inconspicuous. When you scanned it, a survey opened. And the questions made my blood run cold.

Does she dress appropriately for the office? Is she physically appealing? Does she contribute to a fun atmosphere? Does she get the jokes and play along? This must have been satire... one was more inappropriate than the other. But hey, at least, I had answers now. Thanks for the assist, Colt!

Naturally, I couldn't accept that... not what we agreed! I stormed straight up to the management floor and into Mr. Okafor's corner office... furious... upset. He listened. He looked understanding and sympathetic. He even took the time to explain it all.

"Everyone at Aetherhead gets evaluated," he said all calm... reasonable. "Especially new hires."

Sure... fine... but that still didn't explain why I was getting rated like a waitress at a cheap strip joint! No way, I was gonna let the old boys' club get away with it... not that easily. But the boss had receipts. He put my contract on the desk... like it was Exhibit A. And then he showed me what I'd signed. Since I hadn't officially won the competition, the company hadn't offered me a contract as a team assistant. Instead, I'd signed on as culture manager. Translation: Positivity puppet... vibe control vixen!

The job description included boosting office morale, providing positive vibes, and supporting employees' well-being... mental, emotional, and physical. It was a wellness-focused role, and that allowed the company to legally sneak in strict guidelines for appearance and beauty standards... under the guise of employee well-being. I'd been so excited when I signed the contract, I hadn't read all the clauses. Rookie mistake... I guess!

"Bringing the vibes with your wardrobe, boosting everyone's motivation, it's what you did during the training program. It's what got you the job." Mr. Okafor pointed out. "You crushed it in the minors, now you've got the chance to do it in the majors."

Amazing! I almost threw something at his face. Obviously, the whole company was proudly male dominated, so there was no tone policing... no whining... just big bro vibes. No wonder, all three founders were Yamos alumni. Truly inspiring!

"You can always talk to our culture managers about your duties." Mr. Okafor suggested. "They get along with our work atmosphere just fine. They're actually thriving, earning more than they could ever make with their actual skills anywhere else."

Wow... comforting! So, I had a choice to make: quit immediately and destroy any chance of returning to one of the top companies in the tech world... or stay and follow my plan. The decision was easy! Which one? Option two, obviously. I'm no quitter! And Mr. Okafor wasn't wrong. This student job paid better than most entry-level tech jobs. All it took was a tiny tweak... less effort, more charms. I'd done it before... I could do it again. So, I went with the smart move. I'd play along, climb the corporate letter with my perfectly polished nails and make the men pay when I reached the mountain top. A well-known strategy... tried... tested.

*Day 3 -- The Load Is Lighter When Shared*

The era of oversized blazers with wide-leg pants and sneakers was over. Instead, I brought out the jeans. Those jeans... the ones that had basically turned the training program into a success story. Light-washed... high-waisted... flared at the bottom... snug at the waist. I paired them with a plain white top and a structured blazer... same shade of blue. Added wedge heels and dainty jewelry. Not trying too hard!

And not much happening at work either! No visitors... no handymen... just me and the most menial tasks imaginable. Routing calls, scheduling appointments, ordering supplies... real groundbreaking stuff! So much excitement, I was close to a boreout. Honestly, I wished someone would evaluate me... anyone... any way.

Then the front door opened... finally! A delivery guy entered. He was way too old... and too out of shape... to be lifting anything heavier than a clipboard. So, I made him an offer. Walked around the desk... all smiles... and took the package. He didn't even object for a second! I mean, I was a pocket rocket... he was built like a fridge. But sure... let the compact cutie do the heavy lifting... because, you know, it's a men's world.

Of course, the fat fossil dropped the package on the floor. Rude... but an opportunity! Showtime... now or never. I positioned myself... strategically... ass facing guy. Bent down... legs straight. The seam on my ass nearly ripped... my butt cheeks almost poked his eye out. On the way, I had to pause... several times. Dramatic puffing... more bending... lower and lower. This was pure performance art!

After we'd delivered the package, I pointed out the QR code... like 'hey, rate me after I did your entire job for you'. I practically looked him over the shoulder while he filled out the survey. Subtle, I know! As soon as he left, I checked the results. Previously, my highest score had been a C. This fat old fart gave me a B... on average. Progress... sure. But not a single A? Not even for my looks? What a joke!

*Day 4 -- Resilience Is Your Best Outfit*

I ditched the pants. Instead, I went with a high-waisted black pencil skirt... vacuum-sealed to my body... showing my knees. Underneath, sheer black pantyhose like I was hiding some ankle stripper tatts. Classic! On top, a crisp white button-down shirt and a thick red belt like a warning label saying, ' I won't be ignored'. Finished it off with bright red stiletto heels to match... strategic pop of color. Duh!

And then I waited for my big moment. Again, there wasn't much happening. I almost started filing my nails... if they hadn't already been perfectly manicured... with blood-red polish that matched the belt and heels. The janitor came by... again and again. But he'd already rated me... poorly. Opportunity missed... no second chances. Tough luck, pal! And I let him know it... no more sugary smiles... no more sweet talk. Just cold looks and colder silence!

Finally, customers arrived. Stepping in front of the desk, I greeted them... exuberant... enthusiastic. They saw my outfit... stared. Same old story... but not enough. I'd already prepped their badges. But oops! I left them on the desk. My bad... how forgetful... silly me! I giggled... turned around... and felt their eyes on my ass. I stepped up to the desk... leaned over... wider and wider. Reached for the badges... my skirt slid up... higher and higher. The seam on my thighs showed... clear as daylight... ready to burst.

Done! I grabbed the badges and turned around. Handing them out, I ran the tip of my red fingernails down their arms... just teasing... just playing. After their meeting, I waited in the lobby... had to get the badges back. Sat on the desk... legs crossed... scarlet stilettos flashing like red lights at the local meat market. When I saw them come back, I hopped off the desk... exuberant... enthusiastic.

And the seam ripped... too tight... too overstretched. Oops! Totally unexpected. Of course, I had to inspect the damage... immediately... search the whole pantyhose right there... in front of the men. Some things can't be delayed! The men watched... saw it all... my red panties... color coordinated. It's a thing, you know? Not my fault!

Honestly? I died several times that day. I'd never been such a shameless tease, but the end justified the means. And the result was clear: I got my first A. And not just one, an A on average. How about that?

By the end of the day, Colton came by... again. Slowly, our after-hours chats were becoming a thing. And he brought news. His team's culture manager would be out next week.

"She's not sick, just getting a boob job," the cocky coder explained. "Anyway, she's out all week. I suggested we get a replacement 'n' the team agreed."

"Here's the deal: you get an A+ this week, you can take her role next week,' he announced, arms wide open, like I should be eternally grateful.

And honestly? I was thankful! I couldn't handle another week of soul-crushing tasks and boredom. I needed a challenge... a chance to prove myself as a programmer. This was it! The opening I'd been waiting for.

*Day 5 -- Dust Today, Sparkle Tomorrow*

The pantyhose had outlived their usefulness. I needed something new... flashier... slinkier. So, I opted for a white structured blazer... with a black low-cut top underneath... screaming 'corporate confidence'. The white mini skirt was doing the most... tight... short... no sitting down without causing a scandal. So saucy, it even outshined the pointy ankle boots with stiletto heels. But the real showstopper? The black lace stockings... the kind with lace tops that peeked out every time I moved the wrong way. Totally accidental... totally calculated!

When I arrived at work, I got a special task for the day... run some errands. Earth-shattering stuff! The office supplies hadn't arrived on time, so it was me going to the mall to buy printer cartridges and paper. Oh yay! Clearly, the company would collapse without me!

Honestly? That didn't fit into my plans... or my vibe. The outfit wasn't built for public exposure. And yet, there I was, in the mall. I'd never worn hold-up stockings in my life and this wasn't the right place to try them out. My steps were too wide... my movements too careless. My miniskirt kept hiking up, revealing my lace tops, and everybody in the mall was looking. Nice... but not the kinda attention I was looking for!

The first accidental slip literally happened the second I got out of the car. It made me cautious... so cautious it took me double the time to reach the store. But things didn't get any better inside. The store was dead quiet... just me... and two salesguys... with nothing better to do than ogle me. Thanks, but no need for that, I'm fine!

"What's a boardroom barbie doing here? Lose her butler or something?" Salesperson A whispered to Salesperson B. "Must have taken a wrong turn on her way to the yacht."

"Just look at her! More like boardroom barbie meets nepo baby," the second guy said. "Trying to scream power when it's daddy's connections 'n' mommy's credit card that paved the way. Bet she can't even spell printer."

Wow... wasn't that sweet? Actually, it was hilarious, because I was no barbie and definitely not a nepo baby. Truth be told, I was the first in my family to go to college. But sure, let's pretend I'm the one floating through life on privilege and good looks.

So how did I react? I could have easily schooled these boys. I'd forgotten more about printer specs than they'd ever know. Instead, I let them explain... in detail... the features and brands. Somehow, it fit my receptionist role.

Men are simple creatures... that's a universal truth. So, I went full cliché... which guaranteed success. When I returned to the office, I brought a fruit basket and placed it right on the front desk. The fruits? Carefully selected: pears because boobs, cherries because low hanging fruits, peaches because tiny tasty tushies, and bananas because duh!

It was Friday, so there were no meetings scheduled after lunch. Instead, the cleaning crew arrived early. A guy shuffled into the lobby, pushing his utility cart. What a slop bucket! Oval shape... greasy mullet... and a toothless gap in his mouth. A real Prince Charming!

"Good day, I'm the temp, filling in for today," he mumbled when he approached the front desk. "I'm sorry, but I gotta clean this area."

Seriously? Didn't he see me working? I was busy doing important stuff, entering next week's appointments in the online calendar! For a moment, I kept scrolling... showing my disinterest.

"You're aware this isn't a homeless shelter?" I asked, my voice edged with indignation.

And wrinkled my nose when I looked at his stained overall. What a hygiene hazard! Yeah, my disdain was only thinly veiled. Tapped my perfectly manicured nails on the desk... showing my impatience.

"Aren't you supposed to wait at the service entrance? Out of sight until the real workers are gone?" I inquired, my voice frosty.

The guy's jaw clenched... cute! But he stayed calm... impressive! Meanwhile, he said something about being early to do a deep cleaning or something. I didn't really listen.

"Okay," I scoffed to put a quick end to this nuisance. "Do your thing. But move along. Stay away from my desk."

"This matters," I pointed at my workspace... then at his cleaning cart. "That does not!"

Conversation over! I waved the greasy guy away... dismissive... condescending. I didn't have time for some trash trooper. I needed to get that A+ rating... from someone that counted. But the waste warrior stayed. He was practically living in the lobby... mopping the floor that was already polished... emptying bins that were already empty. Whenever I glanced in his direction, I saw the toothless grin. Made me cringe, so I tried to stay as far away from the greasy gutterrat as possible.

Still, I was running out of time. It was A+ or bust! I had two options and one choice: punt this opportunity or take a gamble. The janitor was out... just as Javonte... they'd disqualified themselves. Colton was busy and nowhere to be found. The programmers were off-limits... not allowed to participate in the survey. Besides, I was planning to work with them in the future, so I couldn't take the risk.

That left one person... the rent-a-mopper. He wasn't a permanent fixture on the cleaning crew... he'd be gone tomorrow. Ideal! Also, I'd been wrong about Colton... took him for entitled and privileged. Maybe, I was wrong again. First impressions are like assholes: everybody's got one and most of them stink.

The next time the filth fighter shuffled past my desk, I reached into the fruit basket... pulled out two cherries... and held them by the stem. Tilted my head back... pursed my lips... and dropped them in my mouth... sexy... provocative. The guy's expression said it all: probably reminded him of one of the street hookers from his trailer park working hard to get promoted to bottom bitch.

The stain slayer almost dropped his mop. Good start! It encouraged me to press on. The next time, I took a peach and kissed the round shape like it was a real rump. But I wasn't done... upped the ante. Stuck out my tongue... and licked through the prominent crease. The implication was clear... and the effect even more obvious... a tent in the pants!

Still, not enough! I needed the best rating possible, not a standard review. So, I grabbed the next best thing... two pears... and stuffed them into my bra. My black top ballooned out, pushing the white blazer aside. Wow! I looked like I'd just graduated from boardroom barbie to boob bar bimbo.

I stood up... slow... hesitant. This was the last person I wanted to approach. But I still walked up to him. Every step became more sweeping... more revealing. The lace tops peeked out... slutty... skanky. I wanted to turn around and hide behind the desk. This was too much... too fast! I felt like one of those street whores in his trailer park.

"You're working so hard today!" I purred. "It's almost weekend! Would you like some refreshment?"

To the outside, I was all smiles. On the inside, I wanted to gag. Ugh! But instead, I leaned in... just enough to flash the pears... stuffed into my bra. The sleazy mop swinger licked his lips and smirked like a comic book villain.

"Meet me down by them basement service entrance," he hissed. "Reckon it's 'bout damn time ya get a good look at that dump ya sent me off to."

Oh great! I'd literally told him to keep out of sight down there... and now I got my wish. Not exactly my choice for a first date... but fine, I'd never been there... new environment!

With every step into the basement, the cutting-edge tech and modern office designs disappeared... replaced by concrete floors, chalky walls, and exposed cables. The service entrance was a dump... full of old carboards, broken computers, and discarded monitors. Did no one ever throw anything away around here?

"Look at the hype hoe," the trash trooper greeted me, already drooling at the sight. "Sashayin' in like some pole princess clockin' in for her next shift at the titty barn - actin' like her shit don't stink but still smellin' like desperation 'n' dollar bills."

"Got a feelin' ya last longer than the last one," the stain slayer added. "Such a fine-ass fucktoy! Now, come here, bite-sized bitch!"

Honestly, I barely understood a word. His southern drawl was too thick... too heavy. But the wave of his oil-smeared finger was a clear message. What a nice invitation... that I immediately followed.

"Look at 'em pears - so young, so fresh," the slob slinger gushed. "If only them pears were silicon 'n' shoved under them skin. Barely bumps ain't get cha far 'round here. Ya need some bolt-on meat bags, pocket rocket."

His laugh sounded rustier than any nail and it made me squirm. I should have left... forget this ever happened. But my strategy had worked with the trainees, it would work with the garbage grunt.

"Actually, I'm a melon man. No puny-ass pears for me," the mullet tiger drawled, his eyes crawling over my body. "Just picture this funsized fucktoy packing a plump pair of cantaloupes."

"But I ain't picky. Like me some grapefruits too," the stain slayer exclaimed.

And then I yelped. It was a reference... to my cunt... obviously. No other warning! The slop slinger reached between my legs... which wasn't much of a challenge with the length of my skirt... and grabbed me by the pussy. I could barely grunt before his thumb found my clit... grinding it like he was putting out a cigarette. Rude... rough! But my legs spread, getting the memo before my brain. Ready for more, germ general!

"Ain't just a bite-sized bitch, huh? Got a teeny trap there. Gotta stretch that pocket pussy out before ya any use," the waste warrior praised me... kinda.

Fantastic! No clue how to react to that. Beam with pride? Cry in shame? I did the easy thing: purr like a pliable plaything. The filth fighter didn't listen anyway. He grabbed my top and pulled it down, exposing my pear-padded bra.

"Make 'em bounce, sugar" he told me... because why not.

Oh goodie! I was exposing my body for this creepy caveman, and it wasn't enough. He wanted a whole performance. Well... I'd brought the fruit basket... might as well use it. So, I grabbed the straps of my lace bra and used them to make my barely bumps bounce. Thanks for the name, dude!

It worked! The pears bopped around like two pinballs in a bumper box on permanent tilt. The slop slinger bent over my boobs... his mouth was all over the fruits. Drool sprayed on my titty flesh... juice dribbled down my titty skin. It was gross... but my body was into it.

When he was done with the pears, he spat the cores into the corner. Classy... real classy! But no time to linger... the mullet tiger had already grabbed the next fruit... and my eyes widened. Nope, this wasn't the deal!

The sleazy mop swinger whipped out his dick. It was hard... but barely average... nowhere near Colton's colossus. What I would have given to have the code cowboy there instead. He'd already helped me out several times... and his monster magnum would have been a huge help too. I wanted to feel it in my pussy... badly... desperately. But here I was... no Colton... just the trash trooper... and me, going a whole week without getting banged.

"Yeah... no! Not gonna happen! No fucking, not even sucking. Forget about it!" I told the greasy gutterrat, my voice firm.

I had standards after all.

"Our feel-good funtoy thinks she's a classy cunt," the trash trooper snorted.

And then he got real creative... took two cherries and hung them over his stiff shaft, letting them dangle left and right like a second pair of balls. Then he stood there... waited for my reaction. Yeah, you can wait a long time for that!

This was gross... and not happening. I had a better idea. Grabbed a cheery and pushed it between my lips. Stepped up to the waste warrior... even had to get onto my tip toes to reach his face... and kissed him... on the mouth... full lips. I'd never kissed anyone so old. Never made out with anyone who smelled so bad. There's a first for everything... I guess.

I tongued the cherry into his mouth... then tongued it back. We swapped the fruit... and not only that... my mouth filled with his spit. But I kept going! I felt the gap between his teeth... smelled his bad breath... and stifled a gag. His body odor could have wilted a plant! His hands grabbed my butt... squeezed my ass cheeks... held me in place. Not sure, this was the better choice!

Course correction... course correction! I dropped to my knees... on a carboard. Slid under the veiny shaft... the droopy balls. I smelled the stench of sweat... biting... rancid. Tried my best to avoid touching his junk... futile... unsuccessful. Sucked the cherries... slow... sensual. My nose hated it... but my pussy loved it. Thanks, thirst... for giving me a nose full!

I chewed the cherries... swallowed them. Spit the pits into the corner... like a mic drop - hooker style. How's that for lunch?

"Ain't want me spoilin' that peach o' yours, huh?" the mullet tiger was already on to the next fruit. "Then you gotta fondle mine."

What? He wanted me to do what? I could have taken those peaches and hurled them at his face if he liked. But that wasn't exactly what he had in mind. Instead, he dropped his pants... turned around... and shoved the fruit between his hairy ass cheeks.

Jaw drop! He was taking things way too literal. I was out. Thank you, next! But the grime general just chuckled and bent forward, giving me the full drone view of his private jungle... with the peach stuffed between the cheeks like the golden dome of El Dorado. Spectacular... a sight that will follow me to the grave.

"All day long, ya been givin' me the cold shoulder, now it's me treatin ya to some hot buns. Hehehe!" He joked... at my expanse.

"C'mon, hype hoe, I ain't dumb! I know why ya out here doin' this whole thang. Ya lookin' for a shiny ratin', ain't cha, sugar?" he called me out.

Nailed it... literally! The cards were on the table. I sighed... and pretended to be the boardroom barbie doing some charity work. A field trip to the sweaty jungle on a cardboard box... instead of the Riviera on a yacht. One way to retain some dignity... I suppose.

Down to my knees... this time with the privilege of staring at a hairy ass. Why couldn't we go back to French kissing and swapping cherries? Because it was too late for that! I puckered my lips and dove in like a Hollywood diva rappelling into a war-torn jungle for a glamorous goodwill photoshoot. I aimed for the peach... tried my best to avoid touching any skin or hairs. I lunged to grab the fruit... and the guy moved. I flailed... and tumbled forward... almost fell onto my face. Great! Now, I was on a jungle cruise during a thunderstorm... captained by Satan's personal mop master!

"Kiss my ass, bitch!" the stain slayer didn't let me off easy.

I glared... outraged. But all my anger slammed into a pair of hairy hills... without impact. So, I did it! I leaned forward and gave a quick peck... to the right cheek... enough to make me gag! But I pressed on... literally. Another peck... left cheek... dry heaving included. Obviously, the slop slinger liked my obedience, because he let me pull the peach out of his ass. What an honor! He even let me eat it... all of it... even the side that had been stuck in his ass crack. How generous!

But no rest for the wicked! As soon as I was done, a new absurdity awaited me. Apparently, the mullet tiger wasn't just a germ general, he'd been promoted to director of degradation. So accomplished... too bad I was the one on the receiving end... thought my brain. Lucky me... for being on the receiving end... thought my pussy. Oh, internal conflict... exciting!

The bananas hadn't been used yet... but that was about to change. The stain slayer was standing in front of an old, dismantled computer tower and he'd jammed a banana somewhere between the hard drive and data disk. The fruit was sticking up high... phallic. A real art installation!

Not proud of it, but my pussy throb. I wanted it... wanted to prove I could earn that top grade... prove I wouldn't let that slop slinger get the better of me. So, I strode over to the silicon scrapheap. Just as I reached the wired wreck, I felt a hand on my back. I froze... rooted to the spot. The mop-wielding menace bent me over... yanked up my miniskirt. Oh, perfect!

"C'mon bite-sized bitch!" the stain slayer exclaimed. "Ya ain't thinkin' ya can take that yeller torpedo now, are ya? Not without a lil stretchin', sugar."

Really? It was just a banana! But yeah, I was tiny... everything about me was tight. Still stupid! But I had no time to argue... I was too busy grunting. The trash trooper held me down. I heard spitting... then I felt it. Slobber splashed against my pink slit... something solid split my meaty mound. Oh no... oh, yes! Another banana... charming!

The trash trooper used the fruit like a power drill, pistoning it in and out of my tight slot. It was curved ... and he knew it. I grunted... louder and louder... but the slop slinger wasn't swayed. He went to work... twisted the yellow torpedo in every direction... hollowed out my hole... stretched out my narrow passage.

"Told cha! That cunt's tighter than my wallet after rent. Hehehe!" the sleazy mop swinger exclaimed. "Gotta crack that vault open 'fore we can get to the good stuff."

Fantastic! He thought he was doing me a favor. Ridiculous... but I made no effort to stop him. He worked my wet welt while I screamed and swayed. Every fiber of my body was on fire... only thing holding me up was the grip on my ponytail. The filth fighter didn't stop... he drilled... he stretched... until loud wet smacks echoed through the service entrance. My tight tunnel had officially become a slip-n-slide. Cool... cool, cool, cool!

A yank... he pulled the banana from my box. Pretty sure a whole flood of fuck fluids followed. A yank... he dragged me toward the other banana sticking up from the silicon scrapheap. A harumph... he let a whole mucus missile dribble from his mouth and ooze down the fruit. Disgusting! But it got the banana all nice and sloppy. Practical!

Honestly? All that slobber was a good thing... when I worked that fruit stick up my cunt. Squatting over the wired wreck, I grabbed my sloppy beef skirts. Pulled them open and dropped down... sudden... abrupt. No finesse detected! I moaned ... lewd... vulgar. My petite pouch engulfed the fruit... squishing... smacking.

Seriously, though? All that slobber was a bad thing... when I tried to pull the fruit stick up. It was too slippery, sliding out of my coochie. I was tight and tiny... but also gushing like a busted fountain. I moved... I humped... I worked my ass off. Whenever I got the banana lodged in my cunt, I'd stand up... and it would slip out. Thrilling... couldn't wait to do it again... and again!

The slop slinger laughed and howled... so loud I was afraid the rest of the cleaning crew might come running. But eventually, he decided to help me out... kinda. He stepped behind me... just as I got half the banana up my twat... put a hand on my shoulder... pushed me down... and shoved the second banana up my cunt.

I shrieked... I yelled. I felt like my little loophole got snapped apart. My snatch got stretched beyond its limits... my plush passage got packed to the max. Both got jammed in... halfway. Both got stuck... no more slipping or sliding... no more moving. Amazing!

I was whimpering and whining... my legs wobbling and shaking. But I got up... with the bananas lodged in my cunt. I carried them across the service entrance... in an awkward waddle... legs straddled. Thanks for the assist, dude! Could have done without the double plugging, though.

The trash trooper laughed and howled... again. He was living his best life, watching the front desk decoration turn herself into a clownish claw machine, just for his entertainment. Because that's totally normal in the tech world!

When I finally reached him, I stood there... legs splayed open... hips thrust forward like auditioning for the role of life-sized puppet in anatomy class. Did he pull the fruit out? Of course, not! Instead, he grabbed my brazen boobnobs... rolled them between his fingers... like giving them a quality control inspection.

The waste wrangler kept pinching my nipples until I squirmed and whimpered. Then... finally... he reached down and did the honors. He let out a sigh when he pulled the bananas out... disappointed. Didn't sound like he was about to give me a top grade. Shit!

But wait! As soon as the fruit plugs were gone, my slot spasmed like my own body was offended by the sudden emptiness. It was a moist maw... a gripping gulch. In contrast to my tiny body, it looked so big... and I felt so hollow. I needed that pulsing pitch plugged! But the banana bandit had other plans. He stuck a fruit stick into my bra... plunged it right between my bumpy bits... and peeled it.

"Back to bouncing, bitch," he said.

It figures! I scrambled to wedge an arm under my bra and make my tasty twins bop. Meanwhile, the mop-wielding menace grabbed my ponytail and tilted my head forward.

"Suck it up, sugar," he ordered.

Sure... that was the logical consequence... nothing out of the ordinary! I stood in the basement, blowing a banana... literally and physically. Bite by bite, I finished my lunch. I was so focused, I barely noticed what was happening around me. Midway through, I realized my fingers were dipping into my dripping ditch while the mullet tiger jerked his cock.

Congratulations! I'd survived this whole segment without touching a single cock... or fucking a single dick. It made me proud, because clearly I'm not that kinda slut! A prick-tease... sure! An easy hookup fucking any guy and any prick... hard pass! Only problem? My pussy was longing for it... a stuffing... a railing... a filling.

Not gonna lie, I wanted Colt... wanted to give him a snack as a thank-you for helping me out... wanted to pamper his bacon pop so good he'd never think about another slut sucking his sizzle stick ever again. But he wasn't around. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine it was the cocky coder... sweaty and unwashed after a hackathon. That was the flexibility Mr. Okafor saw in me. Using my imagination while utilizing the available hardware.

Hell yeah! Let's make bad decisions faster. I saw the flesh mop. And in my state... aroused in the office basement... which was totally normal at work... it looked bigger... more enticing. I felt my pussy throb... leaking. He was close to cumming... straining. That would be a tragic waste of valuable resources... couldn't let those tadpoles die for nothing. I'm a sustainability stan like that... we need to make sure every drop counts.

So, I did something I didn't see coming. Took a step back... sat down on a discarded swivel chair... lifted my legs in the air... and spread them wide like a stripper on stage making a V that screams I need to make rent!

"Come on, my stallion, mount me! Breed me! Make me your broodmare." I cried out, meaning every word.

Completely normal sentence... totally sane... and effective. The slop slinger needed no more convincing. That sleazy smile made its grand return as he whistled through the gap in his teeth. Lovely! It gave me the creeps... but then I groaned... because of course.

Wielding his flesh mop, he stepped between my legs and slid his gnarled gristle into my cunt. I was so wet and wrecked, he plunged all the way in... balls deep. And my hungry hatch wrapped around his shaft. He just held it there... plugging me... stuffing me. But it wasn't enough!

So, I took the initiative. Grabbing the armrests, I lifted my ass off the seat. I pumped my hips... back and forth. My pussy slid on the beef broom... up and down. My swollen snatch made it look like one of those cheap carnival fishing games where the trouts are way too eager to bite. My tiny meat trap stretched... even around this basic boner. My bloated coochie blinds bulged... looking like the inflated tubes of a rubber boat. It was enough!

So... naturally... I came... hard! A climax crashed over me... swept me away... took me to a whole new dimension... a world of lust and lewdness. Black dots danced in front of me. A flashbang lit up my world. Everything became white... static. My brain shut down. I was only pleasure.

When I rebooted, the mullet tiger had pulled me off the chair... dragged me over to the cleaning cart. I was standing on the platform... bent over the lid... my tits pressed onto the greasy plastic. Brooms and mops surrounded me... a trash bag right in front of me. His gnarled gristle was still planted up my pussy. Wonderful! I'd always wanted to inspect a utility cart... not!

The story of my day: From Boardroom Barbie to Filthy Figurehead. If I drop dead right now, you can put that on my tombstone... in glitter!

No matter what, the waste warrior kept me in place with his cock up my coochie. Pushing the cleaning cart out of the service entrance, he rolled it down the floor of the basement. He gripped my ponytail and lifted my body... turned my hair into the steering wheel... and my naughty nuggets into the headlights. All the while, I bumped and grinded on his boner like I was trying to get him off before we reached the elevator.

No such luck! Standing in front of it, I rode that flesh mop fast... desperate. The bell rang... the doors opened. I panicked! 'Please, let it be empty!' I prayed. And yeah, I got the irony. But what if someone stepped out and saw me?

Such luck! The elevator was empty. So, the mop-wielding menace pushed the cart right inside, using my hips as handles. Then he pressed all the buttons... every single button... like a silly prank... because maturity.

The elevator started moving and the stain slayer turned the cart. When my hammy headlights were pointing at the doors, he got to work. One hand on my ponytail... one hand slapping my ass. He took over... no more bumping and grinding from the filthy figurehead... only banging and railing from the filth fighter.

The elevator reached the first floor... bell dinged... doors opened. And climax... I came so hard I blacked out. Did someone see me? Couldn't tell!

Doors closed... elevator moved again. We were still alone... so there was some hope. The mop master started thrusting again, pounding my pussy. We visited every floor. Ding... open... boom! I came each and every time, but I never found out if anyone saw me. At least, no one ever stepped inside.

The trash trooper only packed a basic boner... but he made up for it with impressive stamina. He fucked any coherent thought out of my head until I could barely stand on the platform. When we returned to the first floor, he planted his pole all the way up my cunt... and made a deposit in my lockbox... unloaded a whole cleaning crew. When he pulled out, a squishing sound followed. Everything was sticky... my pulsing passion pit flowing over. An entire army of sludge soldiers... just what I needed in my future!

We were spent... both of us... but duty called... for both of us. The trash trooper paused the elevator and helped me off the cart. He let me sort out my clothes before he opened the door.

"Hey, ya forgot 'em fruits," he reminded me, waving the second banana in my face.

Yeah... well... they'd done their job. I needed no souvenir! But that wasn't good enough for the germ general. Can't leave any organic waste in this spotless place, of course.

A gasp... he bent me over. A snort... I'd just pulled my miniskirt back into place and it was already back around my hips... crumbled... bunched up. A grunt... the banana got pressed against my pussy. A groan ... it slipped in with ease. My slickened slot was well lubricated, after all.

"Got me 'nother hour o' cleanin'," the sleazy mop swinger announced. "After that, I'll meet cha in the lobby."

"Don't cha fret, pocket puppet! I'll give ya that A+ rating, but only if that sweet lil sugarpot's still stuffed," he instructed me.

And smack... he gave me a slap on the ass. I stumbled forward... banana in tow. I stepped into the lobby as the elevator descended to the basement... with the filth fighter inside. Just what I needed!

I had a plan... remember? I'd flirt with the men... tease them... flash them a little skin... give them a sexy show. But I wouldn't fuck them. That was the line! Colton was the only one excluded from that rule... his Colt was just too glorious. And now? First week on the job and I'd already broken that rule. Great! But hey, Mr. Okafor had hired me because I'm flexible... with tasks... and rules, obviously. Still, not gonna happen again. Once and never again!

**The Clock Ticks but Opportunity Remains**

Two more hours to kill. I sat at the front desk, actually trying to get some work done. Picked the most menial task available... wiping the front desk... something the slop slinger had offered to do earlier... missed opportunity! Not that I could focus on anything more complicated anyway. My pussy clung to the banana like it was an emotional support pillow... gripping it... giving me a few more mini orgasms. Aftershocks... that kept me hot and horny. Convenient!

Javonte's team left... one by one. I said goodbye to each programmer... exuberant... effusive. Taking a cherry, I pursed my lips... twirled my tongue around it... and sucked it into my mouth... sexy... seductive. By contrast, Colton's team was still working... doing overtime. Nerds!

Finally, the germ general came back. Took him long enough! I'd started to think he'd ghosted me. Before he began filling out the survey, he strolled around the desk and grabbed my ponytail. Not again... not here! What if someone saw me submitting to a scum scrubber? The shame would burn forever!

But he didn't care... pulled me off my chair... made me kneel behind the desk. He pushed my face to the floor... my ass up in the air. Hey, man, this wasn't the time... or the place... for a yoga class!

The trash trooper chuckled and pulled the banana out of my lunchbox. But it was less fruit... more smoothie. My inner handshake had been too firm... squashed it to mush. No more sucking that fruit stick! Time for plan B, obviously. The waste wrangler grabbed a utility bowl from his cart and handed it over. Excuse me?

"Scoop up that sugary slop, hype hoe," he ordered.

Fantastic! Kill me with a sugar shock.

"That there's yer dinner, bitch," he added. "Bite-sized bitches gotta stay tight if ya wanna make it 'round here. Just lendin' a helpin' hand, ya know!"

Sure... keep dreaming, dude! Kneeling behind the desk, I glared at the germ general... scoffed in outrage... and lowered my head to take a bite of mashed mess from the bowl. Once again, the filth fighter chuckled... found it hilarious, obviously. And then he whipped out his dick... again! Gave it a few strokes and dropped a cream topping... all over the banana paste.

"Bit o' protein to keep ya strong 'n' spry, pocket puppet," the filth fighter smirked.

And then he just left, whistling while he pushed his cleaning cart out of the lobby.

** Good Things Come to Those Who Finish Strong**

The last hour of work before the weekend. My pussy throbbed so bad... yearning... longing. Couldn't even wipe the desk anymore... too horny. Even played with the idea of stuffing some office supplies in there... markers looked tempting... real pencil pusher style! But I didn't dare do it. Instead, I took my chance... every ten minutes. Slipped behind the desk and took a bite from my bowl. The more dangerous the more delicious!

Right before closing, Colton showed up. Must have been a hard day... but he still hadn't forgotten our post-work chats. Silver lining... not that I had the energy to tackle his glorious cum gun today. Maybe, we should postpone... reschedule? Something like that.

I flashed the cocky coder my A+ grade like it was my first report card ever. He gave me a nod, appreciating my efforts. Weirdly, though, he didn't ask what I'd done to earn it... which was rude... disappointing even. I wanted to brag with my achievements.

"Hate to break it to you, Ari, but that grade don't mean shit," he informed me.

Blood freeze... I felt like he'd just dumped a bucket of ice over my head. What the hell was he talking about? Stop playing, dude!

"I wasn't talking 'bout the weekly grades," he elaborated.

Brain freeze... he was serious and he had receipts. He'd never said anything about a second evaluation... because I'd never asked. Apparently, I didn't just look like a professional barbie, I also acted like one.

"You wanna be culture manager?" the delusional douche said all smug, like he was already running HR. "You need a special grade. We're talking next-level eval!"

"There's a job fair tomorrow." He explained. "Buncha potential new programmers scoping us out. Gotta go there 'n' promote Aetherhead as brand ambassador. You up for that?"

Shocker! I'd expected a lot of things, but not this... career day cosplay. I didn't know what to say... just stared at the cocky coder. And once again, I had a choice to make: trust Colton or trust my gut? I could follow his lead... or tap out and cry forever about missed opportunities.

* Ariana has important career decisions to make.*