My Ambition Pt. 05
I felt dirty and worthless, degraded in a way that I'd never felt before. All for a job. Yes, a job that I'd dreamed about and worked for, to be a professional in an important business. But that made it feel even worse, because I felt like I'd whored myself for that job. Making me wonder if I deserved it for my ability, or whether I got it for my looks, with my body. I'd never felt so undermined and ashamed.
I'd tried to wash the taste of myself out of my mouth, but the residue remained, even if it was only in my head. The foul taste of his fingers, or rather my juices, coated my tongue and pervaded my smell, reminding me that I'd got wet for him, like a wanton slut.
That together with his residue between my legs... and mine too? I'd tried to wipe it away scrub myself clean with wet tissues, but they didn't stop me leaking into my underwear, a stark reminder of what he'd done. I thought of taking them off, but the idea of having nothing on with this short skirt appalled me, so I settled for the damp reminder against my abused pussy. But that only compounded the ache I felt from his relentless battering and the discomfort from where his thumb had so disgustingly gone.
In my bewildered state, I tried to consider my options. Should I make a stand? What he'd done wasn't legal, it wasn't even ethical. Could I get legal recourse? Rape or harassment charges. Maybe, but that would be the end of my career. He was too powerful, too important. Nothing would come of it, except my further degradation, dragging my name through the mud. Leaving me with nothing except the memory of what he'd done... And I'd thanked him. Ostensibly for the job, but it may as well have been for raping me. I felt so insignificant and empty.
I felt like sculking away, to go and lick my wounds and... Ms Alves found me sitting on the toilet, wallowing in my misery. She stood over me, regarding me for a long moment with a look of compassion, or maybe pity. I'm no longer sure if it wasn't something else...
"Joao told me he wants to give you a job." Her voice as kind as she could get. "Congratulations."
I looked up at her through weepy eyes, not able to accept her praise. I couldn't say anything, my stare dropping down to her feet. She gently cupped my chin and made me look at her.
"I know." Was all she said, but it was enough for me to know she knew but wasn't going to do anything about it. Wasn't going to really help me. "I told you that you would be tested. You've shown you have what it takes and now you have what you desired."
"But... I didn't..." I mumbled.
"Come on. You need to be strong. Let's go to my office." She became business like, pulling me up and wrapping an arm around my shoulder, in a move that was both comforting and compelling. "We can have a cup of coffee and I'll arrange the paperwork. Client liaison... doesn't that sound exciting?"
She coaxed me in front of the mirror, where all I saw was a sad defeated young woman with watering eyes. She wiped away my tears and said "Let's fix you up. You must always look your best."
I sensed the irony of making myself up to look good, when that was what got me raped in the first place. But I didn't have the strength to resist her. Minutes later, with a touch of lipstick and eyeshadow to mask my distress we walked into her office.
She clicked her fingers at the tight short-skirted high-heeled woman waiting patiently just outside her office door. To my surprise and discomfort, I realised she was the one who had served between my legs the day before. For a second I wondered what it must be liked to be clicked at so dismissively, non-verbal instructions to serve, being expected to obey without hesitation. But then we were in the office and she ushered me to the couch, before reclining in her high-backed burgundy chair, her elegantly crossed stocking-clad leg bouncing slightly, causing her shiny black open-toed stiletto to rise and fall in an almost mesmerising way.
I couldn't help wondering whether the leaking humiliation between my legs would ooze through my
flimsy panties and cause a wet spot on my dress, or even more embarrassing on the material of the couch on which I sat. I clenched by pelvis and pressed my thighs together in an attempt to prevent such a terrible outcome.
"We have a proposal for you. An exciting opportunity to work with our clients, our partners and our company executives. You will get so much exposure and experience helping to acquire business and influence decisions." She cut to the chase immediately, hardly letting me compose myself and my quiet sniffling, before the deluge of information. "There's your contract. You'll see it all in there." She continued, indicating a file on the table in front of me. It sounded amazing, but I couldn't shake the image of me bent over, skirt up and the CEO fucking me against the window.
"I.. I don't know." I spluttered, not picking up the contract. "Has he... umm? Are there... others?"
"Oh, come on, Lucia." She callously dismissed my feelings and uncertainty. "Welcome to the real world. Possibly, but I'm not at liberty to say... It's just the way it is. You did what you did to get ahead. Now you have a great opportunity. You have a chance to shine and be what you were meant to be. Just sign and you can have what you deserve."
"Did... did you..." I asked tentatively, wanting to know but too scared to actually finish the question.
She frowned at me, not answering. The awkwardness was broken by the coffee girl entering with two steaming cups, sashaying over to place one next to her and bringing the other one to me, seeming to curtsey graciously as she did, before she turned and strutted back towards the door. She looked like such a slut with her too short skirt not even hiding the tops of her stockings and her impeccable makeup that must have taken hours to apply, just to look perfectly pretty and slightly whorish. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought she should be ashamed to dress like that in the office. But I knew what she was, reminding me of my own... But I wasn't like her, I had a choice. I had a real job.
"There are those who are born to lead, and those who are destined to serve." Ms Alves said, almost pensively as she watched the tight material of the woman's short skirt ripple over her toned wriggling backside. Is that how people looked at me? No, I wasn't like her...
"Catia." Ms Alves snapped.
The woman stopped and spun, a flash of uncertainty on her face before she regained her poise and enquired "Ma'am?"
"Did you know that Catia means pure? She used to have a different job, pretending to be something she wasn't. Even has a university degree... But she showed such aptitude that we made her a whore." Her tone as condescending as the words. "Actually, she was always a whore. We just helped her become what she was born to be. No longer so pure." Smirking at her little joke.
I was stunned, incredulous, the mere thought of what she had said about this woman standing before us caused a slight tingle down there. I managed to squeak "You did?"
"Oh yes, we did. We trained her and now she's far more useful... available to serve our permanent staff and our clients in whatever way we want." She smiled at me enigmatically. "And if you accept, you would be one of us... you might think of her as a perk."
"She let you... you mean, she didn't mind?" I couldn't get over the concept of turning someone into a corporate whore, and that she might serve me too... I had already started thinking of her as something less... had started talking about her, as if she wasn't there. Like she didn't matter or would mind...
Catia just stood there, no discernible expression and her eyes downcast, waiting as if our conversation didn't concern her. Her one toned calf ending in her extremely high heel, placed carefully in front of the other, as if posing for a photo shoot, or at least to make her figure look pleasing to the eye.
"All whores resist a little at first. She'd been brought up with false aspirations, to think that she could be something more." She laughed as she said that, or rather cackled, a cold mirthless cackle which showed how little she thought of the woman's delusions. "But she soon understood what she really is. Show us your whore number, Catia." The woman didn't hesitate, half turning and pulling her skirt up to show us her buttock with the permanent mark 'O 132'. "You like being an obedient little whore for your owners, don't you Catia?"
She stared at the woman standing helplessly in front of us until she nodded and whimpered, "Yes ma'am" looking at me with eyes that screamed 'No I HATE it'. I thought I saw a hint of tears forming in those beautiful made-up eyes, amber pupils darting furtively between her mistress and me like a cornered animal.
Sitting there having just suffered my own indignity, it felt good to be on the other side. To be the one in control. It made me feel less like a victim. I wasn't a whore, being forced into doing things I didn't want. I was about to join the ranks of the elite... I had options and a future...
"In fact, you'd love nothing more than to kneel down in front of Lucia and pleasure her, while you clean her out." Her voice was soft, but incredibly menacing. "Wouldn't you?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'd love to." The poor woman murmured as she dropped to her knees in front of me, just like she'd done the day before. But this time with her pale naked upturned ass exposed, permanently marked with the degrading tattoo, which was not at all concealed by the tiniest thong dividing her buttocks. She peered up at me pathetically, waiting for my consent. Close up her watering eyes were unmistakable, but she was valiantly trying to hold back her tears and smile eagerly up at me. She'd obviously been taught what was expected of a lowly whore.
My heart had started hammering, blood pounding in my ears, so I barely heard the question "Go ahead Lucia. You enjoyed her tongue yesterday. And she'll get rid of that sticky mess for you..." My mouth was dry, but I could feel a gush of wetness between my nether lips, anticipating her dainty tongue. I nodded and spread my knees in acceptance, trying not to think about what I was doing, not wanting to feel any guilt. I was overwhelmed with lust, enjoying the sense of power again. After having had it ripped away by the CEO a couple of hours before. Catia discretely pushed up my skirt and dipped her head down towards my exposed sodden crotch.
"Don't be silly. Take them off. They're totally soiled." Ms Alves giggled. "It's just us girls here."
I suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious, not really wanting to but not knowing how to back out. So, I let Catia pull my panties down by arching my back slightly, so she could expose my trimmed bush and glistening pussy. Into which she dove as if it were the most delectable meal. The shivers that ran up my back where even more sensational that those that she had caused the day before. I sprawled back, panting in passion as her expert pink tongue and pouting lips licked and sucked every inch of my crotch. I could even feel the suction on my vaginal passage when she tried to extract the last traces of cum from inside me. Only her eyes were visible over my pubis, warily watching mine to see if she was pleasing me, my pleasure her only concern.
The couch I was on looked out of similar floor to ceiling windows as were in the CEO's office, over the same view of the city. But this time it didn't feel like a disinterested world that didn't care about me. Rather gazing out through my lust-filled vision, I felt somewhat aloof, watching over all those other people who had no idea about how the world worked, while being pleasured by my own whore...
My own wench. I could get used to this power. How must it feel to be on your knees, mindlessly licking as you had been taught? Reduced to a number, not a person, purely a plaything for your superiors, for your owners. Knowing that this was all you would amount to in life. Whore 132, a pretty obedient well-trained toy that knew how to give pleasure. Clearly, she had also been tutored in the sapphic arts, because she was doing things that no man had ever done for me.
I don't know why I did it, but I did. I grabbed a clump of her hair and pulled her head back so I could look down into her anxious eyes and snarl "You enjoy eating me out, don't you whore? Now make me cum." Having taunted her, I pulled her back between my thighs where she resumed her frantic lapping.
Ms Alves watched the scene with an indecipherable smile, as if she were watching a live show, unaffected and uninvolved as a voyeur would, while my very real and active arousal increased to snapping point. Feeling that tongue work and watching that numbered ass wriggle for me soon sent me over the edge, my orgasm crashing as I spread my juices all over the face of the whore between my legs.
The click of a phone camera brought me back to earth and I realised in horror that the HR manager had taken a picture of me in flagrante delicto. I shoved Catia away, to fall sprawling on her side, hurriedly pulling my skirt down to regain some dignity. "Why?" I blurted as I reached onto the floor for my discarded panties, the sullied wetness making a dark stain on the fabric.
"Don't!" Ms Alves snapped, making me freeze in motion. "Catia, give Lucia yours. You can wear those."
I looked at her in amazement, but the obedient whore complied immediately and within seconds she was holding the tiny piece of fabric out to me. When I didn't respond, I was told with a steely glare "Take them. Only whores wear cum filled lingerie."
Time seemed to slow down as I took the miniscule pink thong and slipped them up my legs as discretely as possible, standing to pull them up under my skirt until they were snugly cupping my vulva in their tight embrace, the string disconcertingly taut between my cheeks. They felt like what they were... whore panties, designed for display, not comfort. I didn't think I could feel any more shame that day, but wearing them made me feel so dirty, even though they were cleaner than my own pair. Catia showed no such indecision and pulled my soiled panties up so that the befouled crotch pulled tight into her pussy, before she gracefully pushed her own short skirt down to barely cover her ass.
"You can go now, Catia." She was summarily dismissed as the HR manager watched me trying to collect myself. Then in a brisk business-like tone. "That was a pleasant distraction, but we have business to conclude. You can sign the contract now."
It was said as a statement, not a question... Or more accurately, it sounded like an instruction. My mind was in turmoil, the emotional rollercoaster of the day leaving me exhausted. Yet again, I had been manipulated, even if I was the one being served, and it had resulted in my orgasm. But I couldn't help feeling that I had been used, not like Catia, but still... And she had a photograph of me. Evidence for what?
"Why did you take that photo of me?" I said, knowing that it sounded whiney and pathetic.
"For insurance... and because you looked like you were thoroughly enjoying yourself." She said bluntly, without explaining further. "The contract..." I noticed her shoe bobbing hypnotizingly slowly, like a silent metronome, willing me...
Despite my misgivings, my guilt and my shame, I knew there was no alternative. I would sign. I just hoped this was what I wanted. "Yes ma'am. Thank you." There it was again, thanking them for what, I wasn't really sure... the job or my humiliation?
I scanned the contract, which had all the usual clauses. My heart almost jumped into my throat when I saw the salary. It was three times more than the paltry amount I was getting as an intern. I'd be able to live comfortably and even save a little. To say I was thrilled would be an understatement. There was no ways I wouldn't accept.
Reading further under job description, there were words like 'providing support', 'assisting senior managers', 'engaging clients' and 'obtaining information' with the requirements to 'work whenever required' and 'do everything necessary' to 'exceed client expectations', as well as the dress code I already knew about with a point about 'managers' discretion'.
I was concerned at the ambiguity and lack of specificity in these descriptions and timidly asked "What exactly does this mean?"
"We're a professional services firm providing advisory and related capabilities to solve client problems and support their objectives." She responded, as if I were a recalcitrant schoolgirl questioning the most basic rules. "We expect all our staff to go above and beyond in order to satisfy our clients. And follow the instructions of senior executives without question."
"And... umm... the other services" I enquired, feeling uncomfortable even having to raise it.
"Oh that..." She chuckled "That's what the coffee girls are for."
"Whew... thank you." I sighed in relief, but then couldn't help myself asking the question that had been puzzling me "Why do they do it? If they are educated, why don't they just stop?"
"You mean why do they remain whores?" She looked at me amused. "Because we want them to. And they don't see any alternative. It's just what they are."
It wasn't really an answer, but I realised that it was all I would get. Fortunately, I wasn't one of them. At least I had alternatives and my new job with a huge raise. I presumed that I had distinguished myself with my drive and ability, even if I didn't really understand how... I signed.
"Now the non-disclosure agreement." She said as she handed me another sheet of paper. On it were two simple paragraphs:
As a trusted employee of Dias and Associates, I declare that I will follow the instructions of my managers, that I can be relied on to treat all information confidentially and that I will not disclose any company activities to any person not employed by the company. I understand that any breech of this confidence will result in my immediate termination and the initiation of legal proceedings against me to the full extent of the law.
I further declare that I sign this agreement of my own free will, and at no time have I been threatened or coerced to act against my wishes.
I knew I was signing off on my rape, everything I had and would experience. But I rationalised that it didn't really matter, I had fucked the CEO and it had earned me a job. All this meant was that I was accepting reality, the way the world worked. Also, I was joining them, with a proper salary and all the perks... Again, I signed.
"Excellent. Take the rest of the day off." She beamed. "Tomorrow you'll report to Nic. He'll be your new boss. I believe you knew him at university."
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