Ariana's Game of Choice Chapter 03

Ariana’s Game of Choice 

Chapter 03

© Cathartico

*Premise*

This story is a companion piece to Tammy’s Debatable Journey. The central themes are male dominance and female submission at the workplace. This is a fictional work intended for adult audiences only. All characters are adults, and all sexual interactions are consensual. Any resemblance to real persons or events is coincidental. Non-consensual sexual acts are explicitly excluded.
It’s set in a heightened reality with over-the-top characters. The story plays with clichés and stereotypes in a satirical, ironic way. It shouldn’t be taken too seriously or extrapolated to real life. The characters’ actions and statements don’t reflect the author’s opinion. They’re not intended as generalizations for any group of people. Always remember to keep it safe, sane, and consensual in real life.

---Persona Adherence---

One last look in the mirror… and I groaned. Barely recognized myself… black-and-white color-block outfit, platform over-the-knee boots. And now this: cum on my face… thick, white, creamy, sticky. That didn’t look like me… more like an alternate version of me… the Aribot. A role I was playing for an Aetherhead project.

 

I thought about it… back and forth. What should I do? Not an easy decision. I could hurry to my car and escape this hellhole forever… unscathed… without a trace. That would be the easy solution… but also the ill-considered one. I still had a task to complete… my project.

 

I rolled my eyes… as I turned to the door. Walking in high platform boots was still difficult… my steps wobbly, unsteady. With every step it became clearer. I still had no clue what to do. I walked along the outside corridor… run-down, filthy. Down the stairs… rusty, creaking. I stood in the parking lot… littered, pockmarked.

 

Time to make a decision! The project was my chance to prove myself at Aetherhead. If I made a mistake, I’d be out… the tech business was unforgiving. But the creepy desk clerk was so gross… fat, sleazy. I was still piecing the cues together. They were so similar… Captain Colt and Daddy Dong. It couldn't be a coincidence that Colton had chosen this motel... and the lobby lurker had appeared at just the right moment. There had to be a connection... Son? Maybe. Stepson? Probably.

 

I still had a choice to make. On the one hand… on the other hand. I looked at my car… and then at the reception… back and forth. My decision? There had been enough action for one day. I was glad it was over… or was I sad? Either way, I’d helped collect tons of data. My time to shine at the company. But enough was enough. I turned to my old, beat-up car and got in. Sitting behind the wheel, I took a deep breath… done, relieved.

 

I turned the key in the ignition… nothing! Another turn… coughing, clicking. Shit! Something was wrong… the engine, the battery, whatever... I knew nothing about that stuff. But one thing was clear… I wasn’t going anywhere. I needed help… so I pulled my phone out of my purse… dead.

 

Panic! The battery was empty. No way… that couldn’t be happening… not today! How unlucky can you be? Of course, everything went wrong today. What should I do? What could I do? Call a tow truck… but I needed a phone for that.

 

Groan… another eye roll… teeth grinding… then I got out of the car. It creaked… almost as much as the stairs… and was almost as old. I let my gaze sweep over the parking lot… a few scattered vehicles… the glowing neon sign ‘Red Carpet Realm’… no guests in sight.

 

So yeah… off to the reception. I started moving… still swaying, unsteady. When I stepped into the reception area, the full ’70s style hit me… like time had stopped in here. Shabby furnishings… stained plastic… it felt like a horror-movie set. But something was missing… the receptionist! Where had he gone? I waited… and waited… nothing.

 

Slowly, I got impatient… so I stepped up to the counter. The equipment behind the glass pane wasn’t much newer than the decor… computer, holodeck, rotary phone… exactly what I needed. But then… something caught my eye… a napkin… taped to the side of the glass… next to the mugshots of people banned from the place… inviting.

 

“Taking a break. Back soon. Right across the street, in the Red Flag Room. Only call if the roof’s on fire!”

 

Scribbled and barely readable… spelling mistakes all over… but I wasn’t here for a literature lesson. Still, the message was clear. Great! Another obstacle… exactly what I needed. Again… what should I do? What could I do? By now, there was only one option left. I needed a phone… didn’t want to hang around in this hellhole forever… didn’t want to run into any guests either. At least, I could use the time to wash my face and redo my makeup.

 

But then… a text stopped me… the project lead: *Good job! Stress test passed, Aribot. Perfectly stayed in character – even when a second guy joined in out of nowhere. Gives us a ton of data on persona adherence.*

 

Should I laugh… or cry? No idea! The praise went down like oil, making me feel important to the company… but the thought of another man watching a video of me fucking Colton and the creepy desk clerk made me shudder. On the one hand… on the other hand.

 

But wait… a second message: *Persona adherence is the most important thing. We need more data on that. Do a cum walk n stay in character if you run into people.*

 

Excuse me… what? This had to be a joke. I’d only agreed to the ‘Red Team Stress Test’… nothing else… and only if it was a one-time thing! The team was under immense time pressure… I wanted to be helpful… prove my worth. I’d given them a finger… and now, they were taking the whole hand. Classic! One and done… my favorite genre of lie.

 

Fucking bastards! They were pressing on, turning this test into a ’jailbreak session’. But then again… this was my chance to prove how important I could be to the project… an irreplaceable team member. If I nailed this task, I’d get bigger assignments. If I failed, I’d get deemed dramatic. Amazing options. But again… choices!

 

So… the bar it was. I sighed. Two birds, one stone… or more like, three tasks, one slut. Find the receptionist, call a tow truck, collect data as Aribot… all at once. So, I left the motel and headed for the street… dimly lit by streetlights… barely any traffic. On the other side, a strip mall… u-shaped… run-down.

 

At one end, a red neon sign… ’Red Flag Room’. The memory hit me. Working with Colton during the competition for the Aetherhead job… in this exact bar. Coincidence? Sure... just like the house losing at its own casino. At the other end... a laundromat. Another memory... the first time with the arrogant asshole... the first time in public.

 

I hurried across the street… my steps getting steadier… more determined. Next to the mall... a parking lot... gravel, weeds, and several trucks. No surprise… the place practically screamed ’truck stop’. Motorcycles in front of the bar… that was new. A biker bar? Hadn’t noticed that last time. Whatever… I took a quick breather before I stepped inside. A stench of beer, smoke, and sweat hit me in the face… inviting again. The bar room was dim… only lit by pool table lights and neon beer signs.

 

My eyes adjusted to the darkness. Then I noticed it was pretty empty… no workers in sight. Good! I didn’t need a reunion. Instead, the same old sacks were sitting at the bar again… virtually rooted to their barstools… like part of the furniture. Definitely regulars… an old Salvadoran, a black man, and a Thai guy… interesting melting pot.

 

The nicotine collective turned their heads and looked my way when I walked in… you could practically hear the arthritis crack with the movement. But their gazes stuck to my body… lewd… leering… like I was a special attraction. And I got it. Finally, some fresh blood. Happy to liven up the place… would have loved it if someone else had volunteered.

 

Apparently, the bar had a different concept for the day shift… less dive bar… more breastaurant. Beer came with burgers… and waitresses wore skimpy uniforms… so skimpy it easily put Hooters to shame. Their name? Red Rousers! Another memory… the tight red top… the words ’No Bra Club’ scribbled all over it. Another thing I didn’t need to repeat.

 

Finally, I spotted the lobby lurker… in a seating corner at the far end of the bar. I started toward him... got closer to the daytime-drinkers union at the bar… and they stared harder… practically drooling. Bar on the right… seating booths on the left. Four truckers sitting in one of them. That explained the freight haulers outside.

 

“Hey, check that out!” a trucker exclaimed, peering out from under the most cliché trucker hat ever.

 

All four highway leftovers turned toward me… expectant… ready to pounce. A trucker in a sleeveless plaid shirt stuck his leg out into the aisle… forcing me to stop. Shit! Each and every one of them looked like a warning sign.

 

“Long day at work, hustlin’ hard, huh?” he asked. “Workin’ your ass off this early?”

 

Ugh… his words made me flinch. How brash could you be? But wait… there was a reason for his comment… my cumface. I’d completely forgotten about that. Shock! I was standing in a shabby dive bar with thick, white spunk on my face. And there it was… shame… regret. Could it get any more humiliating? Don’t answer that! If these truckers were warning signs, I was a cautionary tale.

 

The Thai guy turned on his barstool… toward me… a greasy smirk all over his face… his manspread almost as wide as his grin. He was so close I felt like I needed a tetanus shot just standing near him… appealing, welcoming.

 

“Hey sweetie, that’s uneven. Far from a masterpiece,” he said, grabbing his crotch. “I can help you finish that spray painting.”

 

“Nah, man, you can’t even get it up anymore,” a trucker with a half-assed comb-over cut in. “With us, you get four loads for the price of one, cupcake.”

 

And next thing I knew, he grabbed my arm, pulling me closer to the table. Shit! One more step and he would have bent me over the table. My black-and-white color-block outfit would have stood no chance… would have ridden up over my ass. Nice… more shame… more regret. Turns out, it could get more humiliating. So, yes please, let’s escalate the embarrassment.

 

No matter the distraction, I didn’t miss the implication… four for the price of one. Four cumshots and only one paying? They were trying to rip me off. What did they take me for? A dumb value-pack whore… obviously.

 

“Hey,” a deep bass interrupted the turmoil.

 

The bartender… he’d noticed me. Buttmeister… a massive man… arms like tree trunks! I remembered him all too well. He was the one who’d made me put on that damn ’No Bra Club’ outfit. Nice to meet you again… not!

 

“We don’t allow that shit in here,” the big, burly bloke shouted over. “This is a respectable place…”

 

“…during the day shift!” He added after noticing the irony. “Take your walk-of-shame somewhere else.”

 

And suddenly… deep, dark shadows! Two big blokes built like brick shithouses stood in front of me. Two bikers… vests, patches, the whole lot. So that’s where the motorcycles came from. Good to know!

 

The old outlaw had long white hair and a longer beard… the word Gunndalf inked across his chest, peeking out from under his vest… kinda fitting. I almost expected him to say, ‘You shall not pass’. The other patch collector was just as tall, but half as old. His haircut was an eye-catcher… two hair horns… making him look even more dangerous. As if the vest wasn’t enough!

 

“Out with you, cum queen!” the demon rider commanded.

 

Another memory… standing in the restroom of this shabby dive… looking into the cracked mirror… seeing Colton’s cum on my chin. Guess the difference between day and night shift wasn’t just the breastaurant.

 

But no chance to say a thing. The two bikers simply cornered me… hooked their arms through mine. Spinning me around, they marched me straight out of the bar. Guess the bikers were the security around here… obviously.

 

“Come back clean next time,” Gunndalf-on-a-steel-horse called out to me. “We make sure you leave young, dumb ‘n’ full of cum. Hehehe!”

 

Perfect… if perfect meant awful! As if I got a chance to respond. They gave me a shove… I stumbled onto the parking lot… the door slammed behind me. My cheeks were blazing with embarrassment… red heat against white spunk. My cumface felt like a brand… a public announcement of my stupidity.

 

What now? Had the crummy concierge seen me? Would he come out? No idea… I’d have to find out. For a second, I thought about ducking into one of the other stores to hit the restroom and wipe that damn jizz off my face. Persona Adherence… the fucking term shot through my head. What a dumbass concept!

 

Still… this was my job… couldn’t mess it up. So, everything stayed as it was… cumface… outfit… nerves. I stood in front of the dive… like ordered and not picked up. The waiting dragged on… longer than expected. I didn’t want to be on display any more… so I walked around the end of the u-shaped mall... leaned against the wall on the other side. Finally, out of the spotlight… but reduced to human graffiti.

 

“Knew it!” a voice suddenly rang out next to me.

 

I jumped… surprised… caught. The cap cowboy! Just what I needed… not.

 

“Looking for the next john, huh?” he said, nodding toward my leg.

 

Fuck! Only noticed it then… I had a foot braced against the wall… classic hooker pose. The impression was clear… and more cliché than his trucker hat. I snorted in disapproval… loud enough to be heard in the dive.

 

“Do I look like we play in the same league?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips… incredulous, bitchy. “No money in the world’s enough to make me look at you twice.”

 

The trucker’s face… shocked… outraged. That felt good! But wait… I hadn’t actually denied being a whore. Shit! If the rumor spread, it would stick to me forever. I wanted to call after the road grunt… set the record straight… but too late. He was heading to his truck… out of earshot already. Wonderful… if your goal was to ruin your life.

 

The wait continued… dragging on… agonizing. I started thinking the creepy desk clerk would join the filthy bar fossils and never come out again. But finally, the door opened… and I practically crashed into his arms… happy, relieved.

 

“Still here?” the lobby lurker pretended to be surprised. “Thought you were gonna scam me outta my money ‘n’ just bounce.”

 

“Car's not starting,” I pouted, trying not to sound helpless. “Any chance you could call a tow truck? Please?”

 

He listened… but he didn’t move. Instead, he took a drag and made me wait… again.

 

“Tow truck? At this hour?” the bloated bastard looked me up and down. “After you tried to rip me off? That’s gonna cost extra.”

 

This was garbage… but to be expected. I bit my lower lip. Shocker! the crusty old creep didn’t make this easy… of course not. Desperation hit me… no phone, no car, stranded at night in the sketchiest part of town. I had to find a way out of here… whatever it might take.

 

“What you want?” I blurted out. “I’ll… I’ll do whatever. Okay? I swear!”

 

Great, exactly what I shouldn't have said. Now, I was acting like the Aribot was my default setting… automatically… unconsciously. The fucking Persona Adherence kicked in all by itself.

 

The geezers’ eyes lit up… his smirk sleazier than ever. He flicked the cig away and stepped closer… I stepped back. He stepped closer… I stepped back. He basically walked me backwards across the parking lot… till my back hit the brick wall. Nice to see you again… not!

 

“Anything I want, huh?” the crummy concierge asked. “Show me how grateful you can be then.”

 

Ugh… what options did I have? I’d backed myself into a corner… literally. I glanced around. Here I was, standing at the outer wall of the strip mall… hidden from the parking lot and the street. A chain-link fence in front of me… truck lot behind it… gas station in the distance. Only a couple of trucks out there... none with lights on. This was as good as it was gonna get!

 

I hesitated… one last time. Then I sank down... my knees hitting the gravel. So far, I’d managed to avoid touching his fossil fuckstick. But yeah, I know, I already had his mature mayonnaise on my face. Whatever… this was my life… my reality.

 

In real life, though, I grabbed the geezer’s pants before he could change his mind. His dick in my hand… couple strokes and it got hard. The size impressed me… even at second glance… real jawbreaker. Guess, I rubbed a bit too long… could tell the crusty old clerk was getting impatient… next step was unavoidable. I opened my mouth and slid my full lips over his gnarled gut-reamer… real slow… letting my tongue twirl around his cockhead.

 

Ungh… the taste of sweat… so salty… freshly washed was something else. And just like that, half his nasty knucklebone was buried in my mouth… no more space to invade… too thick… too long. I ramped up the tongue work… focused on the tip of his dick… trying to make up for the lack of depth. Put my hands around his wrinkly warhammer… jerked the back half… hoping I’d get away with it. Nope!

 

“C’mon, newbie nookie!” he barked at me. “I know the rates ‘round here. You’re fresh off the bus, but you gotta offer more than that to work off those 200 bucks. Put some throat-grease into it!”

 

Awesome… the bloated bastard was too much of a veteran whore inspector. Like this was an actual job title… complete with a laminated badge and diploma. No matter the name, he couldn’t be fooled... quickly realized I didn’t get more of his seasoned salami in my mouth. So, he took matters into his own hands… literally. Reached into my neckline... yanked the black-and-white fabric down. My brazen boobs popped out. And of course, the tactless trick-tester went straight for my nipples… grabbed them… squeezed them. Damnit! My beef buttons welcomed the rough grip. Fantastic! My body decided to be a little traitor. Thanks, biology!

 

But the crummy cunt-critic didn’t stop there. He started tugging on my nipples… moving my whole body… back and forth… back and forth. All I could do was groan along with it. Cool! Looks like I come with a malfunctioning control panel.

 

A tug… my mouth slid down his fossil fuckstick. A shove… my lips slipped back to the tip. A tug… his dick pressed against my tonsils. A shove… my lips slipped back to the head. My throat protested every stab… my gag reflex kicked in while my personal punching bag vibrated. I tried to handle it but no chance… I ended up choking uncontrollably. Repetitive failure with sound effects. So neat!

 

A tug… the gnarled meat-grinder pressed against my tonsils. A jolt… the seasoned drain-stopper snapped into place… down my throat. A chug… spluttering sounds gurgled up from my gullet. A shove… my mouth slipped back to his tip. The spell was broken. Yay!

 

And after that, his nasty knucklebone started sliding in and out... easier and easier. But the jolt remained… every time his rigid relic popped in. Tug and gag… shove and suck. Rinse… repeat… literally… since my own slobber rinsed out my mouth. Wonderful! Small victories… that turn into big changes.

 

"Now we're makin’ progress!" the crusty old clerk barked at me. "You won't get more than 50 bucks for such a shitty suckjob, tho. Another 50 for a proper tit fuck."

 

"Keep droolin’, fresh street meat," he ordered. "Turn that titslit in a fucking mudslide. It’s your first shit, so you’re more than a trash-tier talent. Gotta prove you got what it takes to make a livin’ like that."

 

Wow... what an inspirational speech! Every girl's dream. Remind me to never ask the lobby lurker for a pep talk ever again. Too bad I noticed my pussy dripping more than my mouth… with best regards from those crude comments. Fantastic! But then the greasy gremlin changed his hand position. Letting go of my nipples, he placed a hand on my head... majestically… but without pressure. Instead, he waited for me to do the job. Made sense… after all, I was the one who had to work off a debt here.

 

Hawgh... I rammed my suction gob onto the caveman's spear. Haaawwwgh... the bloated bastard thanked me by clamping my nose shut. Hawgh tuah... drool spurted from the corners of my mouth… turning it into a slobber spigot.

 

So, how did I react? I tugged at my nipples… how else? Moved my naughty nuggets left and right to keep them in the splash zone and catch every strand of spit. Actually, pinched harder than the crusty old clerk… ‘cause apparently, I’m my own worst boss now.

 

Hawgh... I rammed my lip drain onto the jawbreaker… so hard my forehead bumped against his gargoyle gut... like a shock absorber. Haaawwwgh... the crummy concierge squeezed my nose again. Hawgh tuah... he let go and a fat stream of slobber seeped from my mouth onto my tits... so vulgar... so obscene.

 

Hawgh, glugg, glugg… I began banging my head back and forth.  Hawgh, quack, quack… drool sprayed from my mouth.  Hawgh, quack, glugg… I was literally showering my sassy showstoppers. Amazing! Looks like I got promoted to main character in a splatter movie.

 

Wheeze… I was panting hard when the crummy concierge pulled his vintage wand out of my view. But then… the gasp got stuck in my throat. He shoved his rigid relic into my slutty swipe-slot and started fucking away. My job was simple... wrap my titty meat around his hard shaft... keep my balance. But that was easier said than done… when you wore stiletto platform heels. I rocked back and forth... teetering dangerously… clinging to my tempting twins. As if the bloated bastard gave a single fuck! He kept fucking my cheeky cherries… just like that.

 

I felt more like a joytoy than ever before. It was as if every hook and nook of the Aribot had only one purpose… fucking. Seriously, I’d never been used like this before... without any emotions or connection. No thinking… just fucking… and I was absolutely obsessed with it. I leaned into it, fully embracing my role as Aribot. Just for the moment… only now... only this once. This wasn't gonna become a long-term thing... no way!

 

Thwack... the crusty old creep literally fucked the stuffing out of my tits, looking ready to blow his load. No complaints from me! But damn… I hadn't reckoned with the experienced hooker tester. Despite his age, he had remarkable stamina... and he’d already cum once... as evidenced by my regret mask. Thwack, thwack... he rammed his fossil fuckstick harder through my wench trench. Thwack, thwack, thwack... it became increasingly difficult for me to stay in position. Any moment, I was gonna fall backwards… my ass landing on the gravel. Wouldn’t that be perfect?

 

Now, it was the lobby lurker panting hard. He needed a short breather... no wonder, given his weight. But the joytoy didn't get a break. Instead, the creepy caveman grabbed my ponytail. First, he pulled me to my feet… then he pushed me forward. I stumbled... found support on the fence... my hands dug into the chain-link. Coming to a halt, I stood there... bent over... my brazen boobs hanging down from my chest. Slobber covered my tits... strings of spit dangled off my chin.

 

Yikes! If I didn’t look worn out and ran through. The kinda look that says long shift, no breaks. Any street hooker would have been proud of that level of visible effort. The annoying part? I wasn't faking it... felt as fucked up as I looked. I was horny as hell... like I’d been edging all day long.

 

"Time to earn the rest, rookie rent-a-hole!" the crusty old creep remarked. “Hope those holes know better how to hustle ‘n’ grind, trainee trash meat. Else, you’re just a freshman flop.”

 

Oh joy… that’s exactly the kinda workplace encouragement a girl wants to hear. But then… I grunted. My jiggly gems got pressed against the chain-link fence... my soft titty flesh squeezing through the mesh… stamping a neat, little diamond pattern onto my skin... like my body had accidentally slipped on fishnet stockings! My titty meat bulged… and suddenly looked a cup size bigger. Wow… interesting way to get a breast enhancement without going to the surgeon.

 

"Fuck! You're tight, starter skank," the creepy desk clerk sneered… as his fat fuckpole slid into me. “Am I poppin’ your whore cherry, huh?”

 

Cringe… what a gross comment! And yet… I couldn't help but smile… proud and pleased. What a compliment... considering how much my pussy had already been stretched out today... the towel rack, the nightstand handle, the cabinet knob. And don’t even get me started on my dignity… stretched thinner than a rubber band I bought in the strip mall’s dollar store. Usually, I hit the gym for stretching, not a shabby motel… and for my limbs, not my holes. Guess, this was the next level.

 

Krrrk... the chain-link fence groaned as the bloated bastard nailed my fuckhole from behind. Krrrk, krrrk... it shook violently as he thrust harder and deeper... threatening to topple over any second. Krrrk, krrrk, krrrk... the pussy pounding went on... I could practically feel myself tipping over, land face-first in the dirt... so elegant... so graceful.

 

"Wave to the truckers, sidewalk scratch-ticket!" the creepy caveman suddenly ordered. "You wanna thank them for their attention, don’t you?"

 

That froze the blood in my veins! We were being watched? Were we not alone? I still couldn't see any lights in the truck cabs... but that didn't mean anything. The uncertainty was worse than concrete knowledge... and my body responded… my pussy literally exploded around the fat fuckpole. Cool! Now, it was my cunt’s turn to play human fire hydrant... squirting... cumming. My versatility was a real workplace skill, wasn’t it?

 

It wasn’t just my pussy that throbbed… merciless, unrelenting. My whole body twitched... making it even harder to remain standing under the pounding. The fence groaned and shook… the chain-links slipped from my fingers… my arms flailed through the air.

 

Umph! Ungh! Uhhh... uh, fuck! Uh, uh fuck! I moaned way too loud. And for good reason... my cheeky cherries pressed into the steel mesh… hard, unforgiving. I’d have marks for a long time... like badges of honor. Great! Permanent evidence… just what I needed.

 

Oh oh oooh… oh, fuck! Ooooh fuuuck! I continued to moan… loud and uninhibited… as the crusty old creep fucked the squirts out of my snatch.

 

I raised my arm... it felt heavy… like it was made of lead. I flashed a smile... that couldn’t look any more fake… and waved toward the trucks... hoping against hope that no one saw me. And even if a trucker noticed the side-alley slut getting fucked... it wasn't like these road grunts knew me… they’d never set foot on campus either. In that sense, I was safe. That's mindfulness for you! Stay in the moment... savor the situation... don't think about consequences that are unlikely to happen anyway.

 

I lifted my left arm... it felt much lighter… and started running my fingertips over my cheeks. Finally, I got rid of the cum face… but the heavy thrusts from behind made it difficult. Damn! The cum had already dried... I had to scrape it off.

 

Ungh... the texture was already stiff... crusty... like dried glue. And the taste was salty... bitter... like bleach. Urrrgh... what the hell had the twisted tag team eaten... garlic... onions?

 

Kreeek! The chain-link fence gave way... out of nowhere. Whoomp! It fell to the ground… clattering, rattling. My heart stopped... I swayed. Don't fall... please don't fall. I felt a rough grip on my hips... the crummy concierge held me in position. Pulling my hips back, he rammed his cock forward... extra hard.

 

Oof! A choking rasp came from my lips... like the wind had been knocked out of me. Oooh... the rasp turned into a long, deep moan when I felt my baby canal filling up... slimy... greasy. Ooooooh... my fleshy funnel was practically flooded. Crapola! How could an old geezer produce so much cum? And why did he inseminate me without asking? What about contraception? Guess I should file it under ‘women's stuff’... right between ‘hysteria’ and ‘make me a sandwich’… typical old-school macho tradition.

 

Yay! Here I was standing on a gravel path behind a rundown strip mall like a human gas pump... but no gasoline was getting pumped out... baby batter was pumped into me. Nothing beats the glamorous life of an intern at a top tech firm.

 

Splash! Suddenly, the hands were gone... and so was the skeleton key. A sloshing sound as the fossil fuckstick slid out of my wet cunt... and a gloopy splash as the gush of geezer goo seeped out after it.

 

Outrageous! I turned around... ready to yell at the bloated bastard. But then… I froze. We weren't alone! There were no truckers watching from their long haulers... there were road grunts leaning against the wall of the mall. And I knew them… the human mudflaps from the bar... they’d seen everything!

 

"Aw, don't go making that sour face, freshman fuckmeat!" the crummy concierge chided me when he caught my indignant look. " You still ain’t worked off those 200 bucks. Remember? 50 for fuckin’, 50 for lettin’ me finish inside. Still 100 short, trainee trashmeat.”

 

“Here's how it’s gonna go," Daddy Dong suggested. "That fancy makeup’s history. Shit ain’t acceptable for you selfie skanks. I ring up a tow truck for your junker ‘n’ by the time I get back, you’ll have a brand-new cumface.”

 

“Couple of volunteers are already lined up to help,” he pointed at the truckers. “You do that, we call it even.”

 

Oh, hell no! What a load of bullshit! But at least… he’d make the call… finally. My way to get out of here... and never come back. After everything I'd done today, I could do this too. Classic escape plan, I know! But damn, anything was better than drawing the caveman’s anger and wasting away in this shithole.

 

The greasy gremlin didn't even wait for my reaction... just turned around and walked over to the Red Flag Room. For a moment, I knelt there on the gravel path... thunderstruck... feeling the truckers' lecherous gazes on my cheeky cherries. I glanced at them… briefly. At least 50 years old… all of them. John Beer... Natty Light can in hand… long, greasy hair clinging to his shoulders. Clutch Cummins... sleeveless flannel shirt… half-assed comb-over. Turbo Mack... smelling of diesel… more hair on his face than on his head. What a parade of pure gentlemen... not!

 

I raised my right arm... it felt heavy like lead again. I raised my eyebrows to feel brave... and look seductive. Finally, I curled my index finger… beckoning the guys over. The road grunts didn't need to be asked twice… surrounding me real quick.

 

"Fifty bucks a hole, huh?" John Beer asked.

 

Hell no! I already felt like a total slut... didn't need to become a real hooker. I wouldn't take money for sex... too proud... too moral.

 

"Oh, forget it," I quickly replied. "I was so rude to you guys in the bar. Let me make it up to you. Go ahead, fuck my tits ‘n’ cover my face. Then we're even."

 

Cool, cool, cool! That didn't sound slutty at all... more like shameless... stupid. It didn't make my pussy throb either... wild… unrelenting. As if the truckers cared. They were already fiddling with their pants before I’d even finished speaking. Well, shit... the situation was nasty as hell… so dirty I lost any control. There was no stopping me... the dirtier the better. Guess that’s what happens when impulse wins and judgment takes a smoke break.

 

"Look," I pouted... reaching for my tempting twins... lifting them up to show them off. "I don’t need to tell you, guys, pistons need to be well-oiled. My grillevage needs lubrication."

 

Wow... nailed it... not! What the hell was I doing? The situation was humiliating enough. Why was I making it worse? Now, I was inventing my own pervy puns? Great career move! I could always become a walking-and-talking dad joke. Bless this mess... or more accurately curse it. But at least… my words didn’t fail to have the intended effect… the truckers' grins were so wide, you’d thing Christmas and Easter had fallen on the same day.

 

Yikes! I flinched when I saw Turbo Mack and his oil-smeared hands. Phew! I sighed with relief when they didn't touch my skin. Hrmph... I shuddered... when he hawked all pompous. Splurch! I shook... as a fat glob of spit landed between my cleaviator. Harrumph... John Beer followed suit... raspy. Splattt! I swayed as his drool made my rack radiator glisten. Harrrmph... Clutch Cummins was the last to step up to the plate and hawk up a saber-rattling. Splotch! My hands left my tits and fluttered through the air.

 

I couldn’t give up now! Too much effort... too much sacrifice. The goal was almost within reach... I had to be consistent now. Gathering my courage, I lifted my head. From my kneeling position, I looked at the human mudflaps... brave… defiant. Then I squeezed my brazen boobs together... grinding my spit-smeared showstoppers against each other... spreading the drool through my tit trap. As the final act, I leaned forward slightly… presenting my rack crack... greased… ready. Look at my tits… a proud human shelf for humiliation.

 

Again, Turbo Mack was the first to step forward. Almost casually, he shoved his hard cock into my gorgeous grillevage... no emotions... no empathy. But wait… he didn't start pumping my tit slit. He wasn’t here to work for his climax. Note to self… for my Persona Adherence research: making men cum was the hooker's job.

 

All right... I literally wrapped my boob bumpers around his piston and let the greased flesh grate slide up and down... faster and faster... harder and harder. I practically jerked him off... in the softest way possible. Soon, he swayed as his cock began to throb. The first spurt of diesel drip hit me on the forehead… so hard I recoiled. The second one hit me right between the eyes... killshot. Wow! Enough oil-of-men to start my own lube company and sell it at the truck stop.

 

No time to waste! Turbo Mack had barely stepped aside when Clutch Cummins shoved his way to the front... practically pushing John Beer aside. Guess, I should be proud those human mudflaps were fighting over who got to use the rack radiator first. Classy!

 

Anyway, I could barely get my hands on my tits and form the greased groove before he started banging away. Apparently, Mr. Flannel Shirt had a different view than the diesel dude. He didn't think much of leaning back and getting pampered. He was the ground-and-pound type of guy… slamming and ramming my spill slot… so hard I had to hold onto my tempting twins to keep from tumbling backwards. The result? He finished faster than it took him to comb the little hair he still had.

 

Grrruuuh… a deep growl came from his throat... and his balls started the oil change. But his clutch cream didn't just spurt out... it sloshed out... slow and slimy. Looked like he hadn’t cum in ages… his spunk was the thickest I'd ever seen... like white gear grease. And it covered my right cheek like a cleansing lotion. Well, that saved me the next trip to the spa.

 

Time for the last one in line! John Beer was playing in a whole different league. He approached me slowly... almost deliberately. And then he shocked me! Indignation shot into my cheeks, turning them red... though you couldn’t see it through all the facial frosting. The walking beer-keg had the audacity to wedge his can between my tits. Aint that lovely? Another skill for my résumé: ‘multi-purpose titty storage’.

 

Honestly, I just knelt there... too stunned to do anything... dented can parked on my personal meat counter... waiting... simmering. The sleazebag took his time, unzipping his pants, letting it slide to the floor... calm... casual. He jerked his cock… leisurely… endlessly. When I was no longer expecting it, he finally took the damn beer can back. I glared at him... angry, furious... but held my position. Unfazed, he slid his chrome stack into my flesh grate... and didn't move any further.

 

Crap on a cracker! Somehow, I was back to catering to a random dude... and I wasn't even mad about it... even if my expression suggested something else. In truth, getting banged without restraint was on a whole different level. Serving sleazeballs and strangers… without pretense or sentimentality… was boss-level hot. If that didn’t sound like peak performance in late-stage capitalism. Aetherhead would be proud!

 

And suddenly, I felt the urge to spice things up… put in extra effort… please the beer buddy to the max. Switching tactics, I stopped sliding my titty meat up and down. Instead, I held my cheeky cherries steady while I moved my body up and down. Now, that was real Aribot style... like a joytoy jerking off a guy... mechanical… programmed. Peak objectification… peak humiliation… and it was all self-inflicted… no one made me do it. Now, that’s Persona Adherence!

 

If I'd had a hand free, though, it would have taken a deep dive into my honeypot. While I worked the chrome stack, John Beer worked his Natty Light. Fuck me… way to make the whole thing even more degrading. I was just a sideshow... not an expensive sexbot… but a disposable dollar-store blow-up doll. Hell, that lit a fire under my ass. I moved faster and faster… literally bounced up and down... uninhibited... unrestrained. And finally, the walking beer-keg started moaning.

 

Yay! Now, I had him in my hand. Payback time! I slowed down the tit fucking... teasing... tempting. He started squirming... his knees wobbled... the beer can fell out of his hand. Then his balls exploded. What an eruption! His piston pudding spurted out in a million little drops… practically raining down on my face. The beer buddy splattered my entire left cheek with his groin gasoline.

 

Wow! My face was completely glazed. On my forehead, Turbo Mack's diesel drizzle… on my right cheek, Clutch Cummins' axle oil… on my left cheek, John Beer's motor mucus. Every bukkake bitch would be jealous… and I’m not even talking about lot lizards!

 

Just when the beef-jerky brotherhood was about to disperse, Daddy Dong returned... belly bouncing... face grinning. What a sexy sight… not! With a cig in hand, he stepped right in front of me… and took several drags. I had no clue what to do... waited for him to say something… do something… anything. But he just puffed away, reviewing my facial receipts… like an after-action report. I wonder when it’s gonna drop as a facial filter… hot mess edition.

 

"Good job, trainee trashmeat!" he praised me. "Looks to me like these freight haulers ain't emptied their balls in a good long while."

 

"Tow truck’s gonna be here in a bit," he informed me. "In the meantime, I can help you wash off that cum mask. Ain’t want you lookin’ like an ass clown when the mechanic arrives."

 

Gasp!... the filthy old fucker even patted his crotch to make his point clear. Gulp!... choices… again. He made a good point, but my decision was easy. Hard pass! I'm good... like forever! I mean, he couldn't be serious… not really. But the hint was clear... and my answer was just as clear. This wasn't gonna happen... ever!

 

A glare... I shot daggers at the crummy concierge... furious... enraged. Kinda absurd, considering the power imbalance. I was the one kneeling on the floor... jizz on my face... drool on my tits. He was the one leaning against the wall... smoking... triumphing. Didn’t change a thing... still a no-go!

 

"So be it! Your decision," the creepy caveman shrugged. "But of course, the starter skank makeup stays on till the wrecker arrives. Not my problem.”

 

“You want a red nose to go along with that sheen of shame?" he had the balls to ask… and the truckers erupted in laughter.

 

Asshole! I was about to lose it ... but then a tow truck drove into the parking lot of the Red Carpet Realm. Time for action!

 

"Run, freshman floozie, run!" the crusty old clerk cheered me on. "Ain't wanna keep him waitin’, so he turns tail again. Then you'd be back to earnin’ a room at my motel. But hey, now you know how that works."

 

Ew! Pass again!

 

"Remember! That man-made whore mask stays on till you hit the parking lot," he reminded me... yet again... just in case. "Pretty sure you’ve got some tissues in your car. If not, there’s napkins in the lobby."

 

Ewww! Pass for the third time! No way in hell I wanted to face the mechanic with jizz on my face. Persona Adherence... flashed through my mind. Fucking job! The things you do for a career in tech.

 

Anyway, acting spontaneously was my choice! So, I straightened up and hurried across the street... as fast as my over-the-knee platform boots allowed. I got closer to the parking lot... the wrecker was still sitting in the tow truck... the driver's door opened... he got out. I turned... literally jumped over to my old, battered car.

 

Keys in hand... they almost fell to the ground... I fumbled with the trunk lock. The man came over… I yanked the lid open... bent deep into the trunk... my dress rode up... exposing the lower curve of my ass cheeks. Footsteps behind me... the man must have seen my cute butt... as long as he didn't see my cum-covered face.

 

My hands rummaged around in the trunk... chaos... I cursed myself for never cleaning my car. Wipes! Finally, the box I was looking for. I literally ripped a Kleenex out... pressed it to my face... wiped like crazy.

 

"Excuse me, miss! Did you call the tow service?" the man was standing next to me.

 

“Oh yeah, awesome you got here so fast,” I said into the trunk.

 

Nope... don't look at the man... look into the trunk... keep rubbing that face.

 

"Sorry, miss, can't read minds. You gotta show me what's wrong with your car," the mechanic said... already sounding irritated.

 

No more time... I couldn't delay this any longer. All right... one last wipe... it wasn't exactly pretty. I looked at the man... sexy guy... a smile spread across my face.

 

"It won't start," I purred. "Always worked but it's really old. Maybe, the battery?"

 

I tried to draw his attention to the vehicle… away from my face. Didn't work... he kept staring... right at me. Jeez, why was this guy so hot? Not helpful... in this situation.

 

"You've got something there," he said… almost cautiously... pointing to his forehead.

 

Kill me and get it over with!

 

"Hihihi! I passed the time, you know. Treated myself to a face mask over at the mall," I giggled... sounding stupid… silly.

 

Ugh… best excuse I could think of… on the spot. I pointed across the street at the strip mall... no spa there. But the man didn't even look… didn't seem interested in pursuing the subject... a true gentleman. How unusual... for this neighborhood.

 

Thirty minutes later, I was driving out of the lot... gave the wrecker a quick wave before he got back into the tow truck. It had been the battery... indeed. No big deal to jump-start it. The real problem? I didn't have any money on me. So, for better or worse, I had to borrow the money from Clyde Duncum... Daddy Dong's real name.

 

I hated the idea... but I had to make a choice… once again. One thing was obvious... I’d have to work off the loan. And I hated that too... but my pussy didn't hate it at all. Traitor! So that's how I’d die. And honestly? It felt only fair.

 

---Market Adaptation---

 

*Four weeks earlier - Saturday morning*

The woman walking through the shopping mall was a completely different person from the woman who’d taken a cum walk through the Red Flag Room... not just in her appearance… but in her posture and overall vibe. It was the first weekend after I’d started my internship. I’d made it through a week of work... a reason to be happy. Yay for me!

 

But no time to celebrate... I had important things to do… like shopping. The good thing? The whole shopping trip was sponsored by Aetherhead. I’d never had this much money to spend on luxury items before. The first perk of the job: if you get a good evaluation at the end of the week, you receive a bonus... in the form of corporate benefits. The company had this employee discount program with a bunch of high-class retailers. For the first time in my life, I could afford nice stuff… clothes and shoes that had always been way out of my budget. So, I couldn't really complain.

 

This Saturday wasn't about personal shopping, though, it was about getting dressed for my first Aetherhead project. There was a job fair in the afternoon and I was supposed to be the brand ambassador, so I needed to look extra good. And not just that... I needed to stand out from my rivals.

 

It had only taken me a week to land a special assignment… which made me low-key proud and high-key motivated. This was my first real shot to prove my worth to the company and move up from taking calls. I definitely didn't want to be stuck at the reception desk forever... no way!

 

My Plan? All the women in the company were culture managers…not a single female developer or manager… and I was gonna change that. We had to work extra hard just to get noticed… and that’s exactly what I’d do... stand out and set myself apart from my rivals. I’d be the first woman to become an Aetherboss… and then I’d change the system from the inside. My ’watch me succeed’ era had officially started!

 

Right at my side... Colton! Apparently, he’d been assigned as my personal watchdog. His job? Making sure my outfits stayed within company guidelines. Gotta admit, though, he had surprisingly good taste… when it came to expensive clothes. And obviously, I only picked the most exclusive boutiques... the most elegant dresses... the most stylish Loubs... the most luxurious jewelry. You could say, I shopped like a champ. And damn, I could get used to that lifestyle.

 

Full disclosure… I’d been hesitant about spending more private time with Colton. Hadn’t forgotten my promise… the special gift I owed him. But I didn’t want to hook up with a fellow intern. I’d learned my lesson… only made things messy... so I tried to focus on my job instead of relationships. Needed my head in the game! Emotional side quest? Cancelled. This was a story of a boss bitch and her career.

 

So, I kept trying to figure out a way to put off our date… but Colton didn’t even mention it. Imagine my shock! The more time I spent with the code cowboy, the more he surprised me. I’d already found out he wasn't some privileged prick… he actually worked hard for everything he had… just like me. He even had his moments when he was funny… but only when he felt like it. Most of the time, he was still the cockiest coder alive… and an arrogant assclown on top… always taking the lead and treating me like a clueless chica… even when he was just tagging along on a shopping trip. And yet… I couldn’t deny that his take-charge attitude did something to me… while his colossal cock kept haunting me in my dreams. If that doesn’t sound like a standard rom-com script… not!

 

To wrap things up, we treated ourselves to an amazing lunch at a fancy restaurant... which was another new territory for me. Over sushi, Colton tried to tempt me with an offer to hang out after the job fair. But I turned him down... needed to focus on the job and nail this task. So, he offered to tag along and help me out. But nope… I turned him down again. This was on me... couldn’t keep relying on others all the time. The motto of the day? You want something done right... you gotta do it yourself!

 

*Saturday afternoon*

When I arrived at the convention center, one thing immediately struck me: this thing was huge! Turns out, it wasn’t just a career expo… it was a full tech fair... recruitment event in one hall... trade show in another. When I stepped into the exhibition hall, I almost got lost... so many booths... so many people. Every major company from the region had shown up. Officially, the expo hadn't opened yet… but everyone was scrambling to finish their setups. Great! This was gonna be a lot of work.

Making my way to the Aetherhead booth, one thing became clear really fast. My outfit was a statement: ’take me seriously… overlook me at your own risk!’ I was wearing an elegant viscose top... in white... with a cowl neckline. It flowed like silk and looked super smooth. I paired it with a black pencil skirt... no patent... no leather... just a silky sheen and a small side slit. The final piece was a black blazer... tailored... shiny... and matching the skirt. This was gonna be a long day on my feet, so I went with 2.5-inch black slingback heels. I looked like I’d already gotten the promotion I deserved… elegant but not overdressed.

The closer I got to our booth, the more I realized… I didn’t stand out. If anything, I looked underdressed. Aetherhead’s local rivals were basically circling our stand, each one trying to outdo the other. Their vibe was very much: ‘get noticed to attract talent – at all costs!’ No surprise there... the fight for talents was brutal. Computer science is tough, top candidates are rare, and every company wanted them on their team.

Compared to the competition for my internship, this was insane. When you were a student trying to land an internship, you had to compete for a spot no matter the company. Once you were an experienced pro, things flipped and the tech firms were the ones competing for you. Crazy how capitalism suddenly learns manners when it needs something.

As a result, Aetherhead’s competitors went all in. They had a veteran project lead at their booths, flanked by two women as ’brand ambassadors’. The women didn't look like actual employees, though… more like event hostesses. Their whole job was to smile, greet candidates, and lure them to the booth where the guy took over, handling the tech talk. Seriously… the nineties called… they want their gender politics back.

At the Aetherhead booth, I met Everett... Colton's team manager. White guy... late thirties... average height… stocky build. His whole vibe screamed rich guy who never had to prove himself… physically or otherwise. And for good reason… he was the son of one of the company founders… true nepo-baby. His clothes did him no favors either... he looked like a lacrosse player who never outgrew college... popped collar, ripped jeans, expensive sneakers... casual on purpose... wealth on display. Love a man whose greatest accomplishment is existing.

Everything about the spoiled suit broadcasted his status. He wasn't driven by achievement… he simply took the leadership position for granted. Now that Colton was out of the running for the title of ’posterboy of privilege’, Everett seemed to take his place… with ease. And of course, he was a Yamos alum… like all the founders. What a coincidence… not!

When I was just getting settled into the booth, he looked at me… surprise all over his face… like he’d expected someone else. Raising an eyebrow, he gave me a once-over… extra slow.

"You know, we're at a job fair here," he said pointing at the various promo banners, "not defending your doctoral thesis."

Stunner! No idea how to respond to that. The trust-fund toddler was obviously talking about my outfit… which was completely appropriate for a job expo... while his condescending tone was clearly not. The status gap wasn’t exactly subtle… not just at the Aetherhead booth… but at all over the place. I could have written a whole doctoral thesis on sexism at tech fairs. And still… he was the executive... I was the assistant… so I bit my lip and smiled through the stupid comment.

No time for more conversation... as if I had anything to discuss with the posterboy of privilege. The doors opened and the expo officially started. At once, all the hostesses rushed to the doors to greet the high potentials. This wasn’t recruitment... it was a war for talent. And apparently, the gloves were off... this was survival of the boldest!

A nod from the entitled exec… and I was off to the entrance. But then the Legit Linx smile squad swept past me on the right... all in white... tight minidresses... stand-up collars for the futuristic touch... sheer mesh panels in front … basically screaming: ’my tits speak for me’.

I was still blinking from all that white… when the NanoTechnica corporate cheerleaders flew by me on the left... all in black... shiny wetlook minidresses... front cutouts showing more skin than fabric… basically announcing: ’minimal fabric, maximum expectations’.

What the fuck was happening here? I didn't even know where to look... left or right? And then I almost got knocked over by the Bytes of Bangingham promo clones. Staying on brand, everything about them was gold-chrome... strapless golden dresses... golden boots … golden jewelry… because nothing says ‘human warmth’ like Vegas-suite décor.

The brand ambassadors didn’t waste a single second to put their charms to work... they practically launched themselves at the men... locking them in... steering them straight to their booths. Great, I had zero chance. I was completely lost in the crowd. This was career networking… but as a contact sport.

The tech companies had different corporate designs... but the hostesses looked like they came off the same assembly line. All of them were human UIs... same face, same tits, same surgeon... just different badges. Where the hell had I ended up? Did I take a wrong turn into the wrong hall? Was this a job fair or an adult convention? All these women could have been pornstars from the 90s… platinum blond… silicone sculpted… streamlined. Copy, paste, enhance!

After the first wave, all the baitbots had locked down a candidate... except me. Awesome! But hey, competence always prevails in the end, right? Once the chaos died down, I finally got my chance... spotted a young tech nerd with thick glasses and a laptop bag… totally absorbed in a code snippet on his tablet. He wasn’t flashy or loud... but he looked smart. Total keyboard ninja with zero social sills… definitely a hidden talent!

"Hiya," I said. "Man! You look buried in that code. What you're building?"

"Uh... oh-um, hi!" the nerd stammered, totally caught off guard. "Just a small project of mine. Machine learning. Nothing major. Just trying to identify patterns in network data."

"Nice!" I beamed. "That’s exactly the kinda tech we’re working on at Aetherhead – just on a bigger scale. We’ve got some cool projects going on. You know, we’re making a real impact."

I didn't even have to feign interest... the topic was genuinely exciting. These were the kinds of problems I wanted to tackle at Aetherhead... instead of being a walking mood board. But my time would come... just had to nail this task. Soon… real soon!

"Aetherhead...?" the tech nerd asked. "I think I've heard of it."

"I bet you have!" I reassured him. "We're known for innovative software solutions. Wanna take a look behind the scenes?"

And with that, the keyboard ninja was hooked. No way was I letting him slip away. He wasn’t one of the big-name veterans everyone knew, but he was definitely a high potential… exactly what we were looking for. Aetherhead was putting together a new AI team… we needed young talented devs for that… not a bunch of crusty old coders. Before he could protest, I hooked my arm through his... steered him toward our booth. A few steps later, I already spotted a whore trooper from Legit Linx… circling like a white shark. Forget it, bitch! You're not getting your perfectly manicured claws on this one.

I was genuinely into the topic... and the tech nerd knew what he was talking about. Finally, someone who shared my interests! So, we started talking shop… much to Everett’s confusion. But I didn’t care. It felt too good to meet someone in this madhouse who wasn’t completely unhinged.

"There's one thing you notice pretty fast when you work with neural networks," I said when we reached our booth. "Blah blah blah... theoretical perfection... blah blah blah... practical application... blah blah blah..."

"Exactly!" He exclaimed... super enthusiastic. "I mean, blah blah blah... convolutional network... blah blah blah... 99% accuracy... blah blah blah... domain shift... blah blah blah... crashes the model.

"Right," I blurted out... fully in my element. "That's why blah blah blah..."

Well, that’s probably what it sounded like to Everett. He stood there watching us… looking completely lost… like he didn’t understand a single word. So, he stepped in quickly.

"Let me explain the tech stuff," he interrupted me. "Technical jargon sounds... um... intimidating... when it comes out of your... mouth."

Wow... that knocked me right over... completely took the wind out of my sails. What a prime example of supportive leadership… not! I just stood there… speechless... mouth open. And I wasn’t the only one! The tech nerd looked low-key offended. For a second, I didn’t say a word... and Everett took advantage. Taking over the conversation, he started informing the keyboard ninja about the company, but it was all just brochure-level stuff... safe… generic. He didn’t know much about the actual technical details and you could see the young techie getting more and more bored. He wanted to talk about all kinds of things… but not sit through another barrage of bargain-bin marketing slogans.

I tried… I really did! More than once, I tried to steer the conversation toward something actually interesting. But every time, Everett cut me off. The posterboy of privilege was living proof of why redundant systems and backup plans exist. Unfortunately, he was the boss... so I swallowed my pride and kept my mouth shut... even though it took some real effort. Authority over ability... classic!

And so, what had to happen… happened. The keyboard ninja tried a couple more times to ask about convolutional networks, but Everett never responded. The awkward silences kept dragging on... till the tech nerd got too bored. Mumbling a quick goodbye, he wandered off. Awesome! No one could have seen that one coming. Caution! That’s sarcasm.

Breaking news: it was my fault... because Everett said so. The nerve! I looked at him like I'd been just hit by lightning. But the entitled exec insisted I’d approached the wrong type of candidate. Nerds like that didn't fit into the Aetherhead team anyway. In his overwhelming generosity, however, the trust-fund toddler graciously allowed me to redeem myself and sent me back out on the hunt.

With the display drones busy, I quickly found another under-the-radar candidate... total headbanger type... long hair... heavy metal shirt. We started talking about self-supervised learning... but then a Chrome-Polished Pussy Patrol Officer from Bytes of Bangingham stepped in. And somehow, a glossy cleavage was enough to pull the candidate away from me.

Next attempt... an eternal student... looked like he never slept and lived on coffee alone... dressed in all black. I hooked him with serverless computing, and he was into it, so I steered him to our booth. We were almost there when we passed a baitbot from NanoTechnica. A Hen in Black... a guy in black… a match made in heaven. Ugh!

Losing over and over again was starting to drive me nuts... not something I was used to. And it showed! Clearly, something had to change! Everett wasn’t gonna stand by and watch me fail much longer. He already looked salty. If we didn't hit our applicant quota, he’d blame it on me... and I’d be stuck at the reception desk forever. Officially, it’s called the ’front desk’. In reality, though, it’s the ’end of the line’. You’re visible, but irrelevant... you’re pure decoration. Dream job… obviously!

Decision time! Either stick with the whole 'competent but boring' thing... or lean into my charms and actually get somewhere. Choices... choices... actually not a hard pick at all. I just told the spoiled suit I was taking a quick break and rushed out to the parking lot. Good thing, my shopping haul was still in my trunk. I’d bought a few dresses that actually fit the vibe of the job fair... like a black-and-white color-block dress. These baitbots thought they could challenge me? Yeah, right… these display drones were about to learn what happened when I got serious.

Five minutes later, I returned... with a huge smile and a brand-new dress. Didn't even took two steps... before all eyes were on me and my outfit... a minidress in deep red with black spaghetti straps. Short, tight, sleeveless… showing more skin than the Hens in Black. Glossy faux leather… outshining the Chrome-Polished People Pleaser Ornaments. V-shaped neckline down to the navel with black lacing… showing more cleavage than the veneer-white Whore Troopers. Red 4-inch stilettos with pointed toes… perfect for kicking all these display drones in their Brazilian Butt Lifts. Basically, my outfit was too short, too tight, and too flashy... everything professional appearance guides tell you not to wear at a job fair.

And it wasn't just the outfit... my whole attitude changed... chin up, tits out! The attention turned my walk into a strut... and everyone noticed. You should have seen Everett's face. First, his jaw hit the floor... then a sleazy grin spread across his face. Apparently, he saw it as an improvement. Shocker!

"Now you get it," the posterboy of privilege welcomed me back. "I'm here for the expertise, you're here for the first impression. Finally, we can get started."

Wow, great praise… exactly the kinda leadership you want from your boss. But it made one thing clear: I’d chosen the right outfit for the job. New look, new energy… but the first wave of visitors had passed, so it took me twice as long to hook the next candidate. Total overengineer type... softshell jacket even though it was warm... hiking boots even though there were no mountains in sight. Right from the start, I looped his arm around my hips… just to make sure he couldn't get lost at another booth. He tensed up… didn’t expect that… but didn’t let go either. You live and learn, right?

"Um… the current tech stack. What does the architecture look like at Aetherhead?" he asked... shy... hesitant.

My eyes lit up. The overengineer definitely wasn’t the player type. Outfit or not, he still seemed to think I knew what I was talking about. See? The trust-fund toddler was the exception... not the rule. Women can be smart and sexy at the same time. No choice necessary!

"Well, blah blah blah... robust full-stack setup..." I explained enthusiastically. "Blah blah blah... integrated with..."

"Wrong stack, Arihead!" my caviar cryboss interrupted us. "I'll show the young gentleman our back-end stack, you show him your front-end stack."

Excuse me? As I stared at the entitled exec, he grabbed my hand and dragged me behind the counter.

"Here at Aetherhead, we have a clear division of labor," he told the candidate. "Makes things a lot easier. The devs talk about the software, the assistants flash their hardware."

"Let me show you," he added... completely ignoring my angry looks. "We've prepared a presentation. I'll explain ‘n’ our airhead will click away."

And then my mouth gaped open… just as wide as my eyes. Everett shoved a presentation remote into my rack crack. Just like that, I was standing in front of the overengineer… with a remote between my cheeky cherries. My role? Squeeze my tits to click through the slides. Love the agile work in critical situations... great team-building exercise… not!

Still unimpressed by my pissed-off glares, the spoiled suit started the presentation and I had no choice but to act like his presentation tool… forearms crossed under my brazen boobs... upper arms squeezing my tits to press the button. Easier said than done! I had to mash my titty meat real hard to get the buttons to respond. My naughty nuggets bulged... almost tearing the black lacing. Boob‑operated tech support… innovation at its peak!

The result? The overengineer barely looked at the slides... his eyes glued to my tempting twins... literally falling into my trembling titslit. At least, my assets got more attention than the boss' half-baked babbling. And in the end, the guy was the first to sign up for our talent night. A win… at long last!

This only confirmed Everett's idea of how we worked best together. Suddenly, he shoved a bag full of giveaways into my hands… pink chewing gum… webcam covers and mouse mats with the Aetherhead logo. My task? Make the logo famous and get it into as many hands as possible.

Less tech babble, more gum bubbles," the trust-fund toddler told me. "Turn it into a competition. Whoever blows a bigger bubble than you gets a mouse mat."

Awesome… a task that required real skills... not! Still, the applicant quota was looming over my head, so I set off with the giveaways. Combined with my outfit, I finally had an advantage over the other display drones. Now, it was my turn to steal the candidates from them. I happily handed out the promo gifts... and didn't even get around to talking about tech topics... I was far too busy chewing gum and being judged on bubble size. But that wasn't me losing control... it was ’market adaptation’. You had to be smart to pull that off.

Obviously, I kept focusing on hidden talents... who were more than happy to compete with me. Bonus point? Blowing bubbles meant constantly pursing my lips... till my mouth stayed in a permanent trout pout. Another achievement unlocked. Yay!

However, I was terrible at blowing bubbles, so the mouse mats got snapped up like hotcakes. Whatever… that was the goal. Bubble your way to glory! If that ain’t motivational poster material. The results spoke for themselves anyway. All the candidates followed me to the booth while the other baitbots could only stand around and watch me slay… like useless decoration.

And I wasn’t the only one who’d leveled up. Everett spiced up his presentation too... fewer slides, more Q&A... and I got to answer the questions. Great task... in theory!

"Unfortunately, they have to be binary questions," the entitled exec explained. "Our Arihead assistant doesn't have any more memory capacity than that."

Seriously? That’s the thanks I get for doing all the work? Couldn’t have felt more appreciated. But the candidate was a total hoodie-hacker type… looked like he never showered and lived on energy drinks alone… constantly spouting jargon to cover his insecurities. Somewhat shy, he laughed along with my caviar cryboss. What a pair of pricks!

"Oh, one more thing," Everett added out of nowhere. "If Arihead forms a bubble, it means yes. If she unties a knot, it means no."

Excuse me? No way… not gonna happen! But the trust-fund toddler already pointed to the black lacing that held my naughty nuggets in check. Ah… so that's what you learn binary code for in basic computer engineering class.

"Um, you work according to Scrum?" the first question came before I could raise any objections.

The answer was obvious… no chance to hesitate. I opened my mouth... and stopped myself just before I said a word... pursed my lips... and blew a big bubble. The hoodieboy nodded… content, satisfied. Then both guys laughed... as the bubble burst and the pink gum splattered my face.

"Do you use Kanban?" the next question came while I was still scraping the gum off my cheeks and stuffing it back into my mouth.

At Aetherhead, everything ran strictly according to Scrum... so I hesitated. But then I raised my eyebrows... and reached for the laces. I untied the first knot... slow, teasing... and let the lace slip out of the first two eyelets. Shit! That was too much… too seductive. The effect was clear, though. The basement hacker looked spellbound, waiting for my titty meat to spill out. But the floodgates held... for now.

Next question: "Does your application run in the cloud?"

Another bubble... I was starting to get better at this. The bubbles grew bigger... and when they burst, the gum smacked me in the face even harder. Exactly what the men wanted to see. So at least, I learned something new today.

"Do you use microservices?" The questions came thick and fast now.

Another bubble... even bigger. This was starting to feel repetitive... I needed to mix it up...add a little flair. While holding the bubble, I looked down... and pushed my tits up. Pop! The bubble burst... squashed between my lips and tits. I opened my mouth... the pink gum spilled all over my sassy showstoppers. Nice skill! All that college tuition finally paying off. But I kept going… scraped it off with my long red fingernail and fed the gum back into my suction pout. The hoodie hacker nearly dropped his energy drink when he saw it. Another small victory!

"What... what about GitHub actions?" he stammered as he had to collect himself.

Zzzip! I pulled on the lace... and another knot opened. My titty flesh bulged over the hem… my nipples almost slipped out. But the fleshgates held... for now.

"Is the backend running on Node?" his voice became firm again... determined.

Zzzip! Another pull on the laces... two more eyelets gone... more titty flesh spilling out.

Next question: "Is your front end react-based?"

Zzzip! The hoodieboy was now deliberately asking questions I had to answer in the negative. Classic power move! Someone was determined to trigger a wardrobe malfunction. He was playing Jenga... only with fabric… and I was the stacking sleeve. I’d never felt so objectified... and submissive... before. Now, I was basically just another display drone… interchangeable… standardized… mass-produced!

And still… I couldn't bring myself to do something truly different. The men's attention had a strange way of keeping me pinned. Turns out, attention beats dignity… didn't see that one coming. But at least I learned to stay calm under pressure.

"All decisions are made based on data without human review?" the basement hacker ran out of questions.

Of course not! Stress tests... jailbreak sessions... there was always a human in the loop. An important part of any AI project. I didn't know it yet, but it was precisely these human reviews that would play a major role in my first Aetherhead project. But that was still a long way off.

Zzzip! It was done... or it finally happened... depending on your point of view. The Q&A session was over… and the lace slipped out of the last eyelets. The red fabric gave way... opening like a curtain. My nipples popped out… like they were trying to grab the loops. A double nip slip! Goes to show: being stubborn helps you reach your goals.

I knew what was coming... and still I flinched... glanced around like looking for an escape... then blew another pink bubble… automatically, reflexively. Jeez Louise! This was becoming second nature. Thanks, muscle memory! So that’s the bimbo version of stress reactions: fight, flight... bubble!

The hoodieboy leered… like a lecher. I blew bubbles… like an idiot. Everett reacted… like a cool head. He dropped his pen on the floor. And I didn't even think... completely caught up in obedience and servitude... I bent down to pick it up. Only figured out what the spoiled suit was trying to pull when my head disappeared behind the counter. I frantically grabbed the lacing... scrambled to fix my cleavage before standing back up. Ony grabbed the pen when I’d pulled everything back into place… and instantly blushed. My tight red minidress had ridden up as I bent down... flashing my ass. The energy drink hermit was practically hanging halfway over the counter, trying to get a good look at my pussy. Subtle… real subtle.

When I straightened back up, I started giggling... embarrassed... airheaded. The moment my head reappeared, the hoodie hacker jumped away from the counter... trying to act like he hadn’t just stared at my butt... shy... bashful. See? Socially awkward and insecure. He’d never have dared to grab my ass. Almost disappointing. Whatever… he still signed up for the talent night. Looked like the stacking sleeve was stacking up wins!

---Love In An Elevator---

*Saturday afternoon*

Aetherhead's goal was to identify five talents and convince them to show up at our talent night. After the rocky start, things were finally picking up... we’d already locked in four high potentials. And yeah, my appearance had definitely helped seal the deal. Guess I was no longer an assistant but a strategic asset. 

One more participant and we could pack it up. Loved that! After all, it was the weekend… I had better things to do. Plus, the crowd was slowly thinning out. But Everett wasn’t done. Suddenly, he dropped a total news bomb… all casually. There was one more mission... because of course there was. Why would this day end normally?

Bytes of Bangingham had a top developer, and Aetherhead wanted to poach him to run the new AI team. Apparently, they’d already tried headhunters... but no luck. As if that would stop the posterboy of privilege! The entitled exec was determined to make it happen. His goal? Impress the owner... aka his dad… and get a big bonus. So, who do you think was supposed to make it happen? Moi… obviously!

"Use your charms," the trust-fund toddler said with a shrug… like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Just do what you’re good at. Show him what he's missing."

Umph... I just rolled my eyes. I was good at talking about tech stuff, but that was clearly not what he meant. And still it was obvious we weren't leaving till we’d at least tried to poach the guy, so arguing would be a waste of time.

"You pull this off, it's a huge win for us… ‘n’ for you. I'll make sure you get to take over talent night," Everett said… encouraging me. "That's a big opportunity to make a name for yourself in the company, Arihead. Chances like that don’t come around often.”

Yeah… didn’t need a genius to understand what he was implying. Either I took the mission now… or I wouldn't be asked again. Next time, there’d be another intern.

“I’ll even sweeten the deal!” he added… trying to reel me in. “I’m still looking for a replacement for Dani – my current culture manager. She’s out a week getting a boobjob. If you do well, you can take her place next week.”

“You want out from behind that reception desk, don’t you?” he asked… all provocative… and knowing. “Our welcome mats don’t have a long shelf life. Project partners get bored with our desk decorations pretty fast. A whole smile squad’s already lining up... with bigger tits, bigger lips ‘n’ blonder hair.”

Ugh... welcome mat? That caused a pang of pain in my heart… and a throb in my twat! It was no secret how much I hated being relegated to the front desk. I wanted to move up in the company... sooner rather than later. And the shopping trip had made my thirsty for more. No matter how much I loathed Prince Privilege, he wasn’t wrong... opportunities like this didn't come along often. Choices... my favorite.

So, I pulled myself together. No big deal! A little flirting... making eyes at the guy... stuff I did at every college party. Still, I hesitated. This was work... we were in the middle of an exhibition hall… tons of people watching. 

So, I started slow… strolling past the BOB booth... casually... low-key. I repeated the whole walk-by a couple more times to check out the situation… definitely not obvious. Their stupid Chrome-Polished Pussy Patrol Officers were all busy roaming around the hall. My window! I stepped up to the booth… started flipping through the brochures... pretended to be casual about it... tried to look cool. 

All the while... I watched the guy... out of the corner of my eye. So… this was the Grandmaster Grid … the sultan of syntax we desperately needed for our new team? On first impression, he didn’t look like your typical tech nerd. More like a prompt pharaoh... big guy... black, broad-shouldered… radiating authority... commanding respect. Oh, damn! I stared longer than I meant to... at his muscular chest. Out of a sudden, he addressed me, asking what I was looking for. Of course, he knew I wasn't there to apply for a job … because duh!

"Oh, it's just... you look like someone who should be working on innovations, not training your replacements," I told him… innocently… lightly. "You’ve got that 'I could build this better, but I'm not allowed to’ vibe, you know?”

For a second, he was thrown off... but then he played along. We got into a conversation pretty fast... talking about exciting new innovations and all the annoying legacy issues. Eventually, he offered to show me the latest Bytes of Bangingham developments. My chance! I just slipped around the counter… graciously, sexy… and stood next to him... unsuspiciously, purposefully. 

"Imagine you had to decide again, what would you do?" I finally asked. "Same stack, same company?"

And the prompt pharaoh turned toward me... towering over me... way too close… looking deep into my eyes. 

"What kinda stacks you’ve got?" he asked… completely out of nowhere.

Eep! I groaned… softly… low-key. He’d put his hands on my naughty nuggets... just like that... without warning. Through the red fabric, he cupped my cheeky cherries... like he was about to pick them. Eeeep! He pinched my titty flesh... and I let out a swift squeal... but quickly bit my lip… couldn’t draw any attention. Like the sultan of syntax cared… he looked completely unimpressed.

Step! He moved forward, I stepped back. Step! Step! He led me backwards through the booth. Before I knew it, we were standing in the corner... behind a roll-up display. Very discreet! Exactly the kinda spot where bad decisions happen. 

"Bangingham relies on silicone stacks - they look stable, but they’re sensitive to pressure," he went on… calm… unfazed.

Okay, sure, great! But I had different problems right now. I couldn't deal with this situation. Technically, this wasn't hiding... it was half-baked camouflage. What if a visitor walked up looking for a contact person? What if the stupid display drones came back?

"I see your stack’s completely organic – naturally grown," he continued.

His hands pulled my tits from my dress… kneaded my cutie cups… intense, vigorous. I wanted to throw a cheeky line at him... but I couldn't... my body took over... embracing the rough treatment. I closed my eyes... leaned back... felt the hard grip on my tits. 

The roll-up display started wobbling... it could tip over any second... exposing us. But my pussy was throbbing too hard to care. I didn't move... let the man play with my tempting twins. And then… suddenly… the hands were gone... every touch was gone. 

"Show me you’ve got more than clean stacks without fillers," Grandmaster Grid said. "Show me you’ve got an open docking station I can use freely."

I opened my eyes... puzzled... disappointed. Tech metaphors? Seriously? Didn’t see that coming. Didn’t expect him to figure out what I was looking for so quickly either. Mission or not, I wanted more... but his hands were already gone from my tits.

“What’s your name, my lil fucktoy?” he asked. “Gotta be on my beck ‘n’ call if you wanna pull this off.” 

“Arihead!” I blurted out… without second thought. “You know, Ari from Aetherhead, so Arihead.”

Delightful! This was exactly the name I didn’t want to tell him… wanted to be taken seriously after all. But I could still feel his strong hands on my soft scoops… distracting me… throwing me off. The prompt pharaoh let out a quick chuckle. And then he just walked back to the counter… couldn’t spend too much time on a dumb-ass display droid… he had more important things to do. 

And me? I just stood there behind the roll-up display... my breath labored... my skin tingling. More flustered than before. It felt like he’d left a bigger impression on me than I left on him. And I hadn’t even gotten his name... guess I just had to call him Bangham then. 

Jeez Louise! I wanted to rub my pussy… flick my clit… but I had a job to do. So, I emerged from behind the display... slow… careful. Smoothing my dress, I looked around… awkward… embarrassed. Everyone was busy… no one seemed interested in me. I’d got lucky… for now. Love that moment when you pretend that invisibility is your superpower. 

My cheeks were glowing red… but I still strutted back to the Aetherhead booth with my head held high. Everett had been watching me from across the hall. He gave this quick nod… the kind that says 'okay, good, keep going'. Guess I was on the right track. I’d made the first impression… now it was the guy’s turn to make the next move… if he wanted to use my docking station. 

But first, the entitled exec sent me back to the entrance to recruit the final candidate for the talent show... one attendant was still missing. Small problem? By now, there were hardly any new visitors arriving. So obviously, it turned into another droid war with the Whore Troopers, Hens in Black, and Chrome-Polished People Pleaser Ornaments... just what I needed. 

And then… of course… another problem: I’d run out of giveaways. Perfect timing! I needed to refill my bag... fast… couldn’t risk missing the next under-the-radar high potential. Every exhibitor had a small storage room in the upper tier… so that’s where the materials were. The power and prestige of a job at a top tech firm: restocking giveaways. Yay!

On my way upstairs, I had to wait in front of the elevator... the door opened... I got shoved... stumbled inside. What the hell? I spun around... outraged, offended. There he was… Bangham... the stack slammer. He grinned all over his face… and followed me into the lift. 

The doors closed… I opened my mouth to scream... the prompt pharaoh stepped in front of me... close... towering over me. I could smell his aftershave... I felt his hand… the scream got stuck in my throat. In a flash, he pushed up the hem of my red minidress... his hand slid between my legs... I groaned... surprised, astonished. His hand grabbed my pussy… I moaned… loud, uninhibited. His fingers slid inside me… I froze... my body tensed. I put my hand on his forearm… but I didn't push him away... didn't stop him. I’d made up my mind... I was gonna be his freeuse fucktoy for the job fair. Why? Because I was a good corporate drone… because it was a once-in-a-lifetime career opportunity… because the whole thing was a filthy thrill. Probably… a bit of everything.

Still, though... that fast? Really? Out of nowhere... in front of everyone? But there I was... leaning against the elevator wall... kinda frozen. Didn't even notice Grandmaster Grid hitting the emergency stop... just felt his fingers in my pussy. I was getting wetter... my breathing was getting faster... my legs were shaking harder. Damn! I was so horny… ridiculously horny... because apparently elevator drama did it for me.

DING! Suddenly the elevator doors opened. Bangham pulled his finger out of my pussy and stepped aside. Panic! I opened my eyes... and looked straight at the hall’s upper level. Ugh… I didn't even notice he’d turned the emergency stop off and we’d moved up. Lucky for me, nothing was going on up here. But that didn't mean a thing! The other companies had their storage rooms on the upper tier too. Any second, another baitbot could stroll by. 

I looked at Bangham… a questioning look on my face. Didn't start walking on my own... waited for the man’s okay. Sweet merciful crap! I was taking this whole freeuse thing way too seriously. It was just a game! Yeah... sure... keep telling yourself that. This wasn't a game... not at all! My whole career was riding on this moment.

"Go, go, go! Get your stuff, busy bar-bee," Bangham sneered. "When you’ve got it, wait here by the elevator for my return... with your tits out."

Excuse me? I thought I’d misheard… but only at first… his face said it all… he was serious. I snorted and rolled my eyes... then strutted out of the elevator… head held high… feigning nonchalance… even though my knees were wobbling from excitement. But then my cheeks went red again… my minidress was still hiked up to my hips… while I was standing on the gallery. Oops… my bad! Frantically, I pulled it down… while I glanced around… ashamed, embarrassed.

DING! The sound made me spin around. The elevator doors were closing… the lift was going back down. Great! Bangham wasn’t joking. Whatever… first things first... before anyone else came up here. I quickly set off... heading along the gallery to the small storage room. Every step made my legs wobble... and my pussy twitch... like it was trying to wrap itself around an imaginary finger. Jeez! I was so needy... needy to get filled… needy to feel hard man meat. I couldn't wait for Bangham to bang me. Ugh… what a terrible pun… and even that gave my twat a throb. Love how dependent I was on a man… so not me… till now!

I took my time… stuffing my bag with giveaways… just trying to stall. But eventually I had to return to the elevator. With every step, my nerves got worse. I kept thinking: 'okay… what now? Seriously, what could I even do to get out of this?' No idea… my brain was way too dick-dazed to come up with anything. There was nothing… just the steady throbs of my twat humming in my head. Guess I really was the Arihead now.

Luckily, I didn’t run into anyone on the gallery… till I stood in front of the elevator. I gazed around... peered over the railing. The hall below was packed with people. Oh good, a crowd... exactly what this situation needed. At any second, someone could look up … but they’d only see my back. As if that would calm me down!

Sigh... I grabbed the laces. In one quick move, I opened them… pushed the fabric down. My brazen boobs popped out… and I gasped as the cold air brushed over my titty skin. My nipples got hard at once... those tattle-teats… always standing at attention at the slightest sensation like thick flesh hooks… always begging to be sucked like my personal erection points. Thanks, air conditioning! Like I needed any more stimulation.

How long was this supposed to take? Couldn’t be long… I was way too hot for the sultan of syntax to just leave me standing here, right? I waited... heard the noise from the hall below. I waited... heard the silence up on the gallery. I waited... heard absolutely nothing from the elevator. My nerves kept climbing... and so did my horniness.

DING! Finally… I almost jumped for joy. But wait... what if it wasn't Bangham? What if it was another display drone? I couldn’t imagine anything more embarrassing. What if it was a candidate? I couldn’t imagine anything more humiliating. Cool! I was noticing a pattern here. Crap! The doors opened far too slow... I could barely keep still. Pussy juices oozed from my cunt… running down my legs. 

Empty! The elevator was completely empty… no one inside... no one stepping out. What the fuck? Was Grandmaster Grid messing with me? I growled with anger... and disappointment. This couldn't be real!

The doors slid shut again... the elevator went back down. I was still standing on that damn gallery... tits out...  bristling with rage... like an art installation. I waited… twitching with need…. stewing in my juices. I waited... snatch soup leaking from my cunt… forming a puddle on the ground. Jeez! I hated loved the uncertainty... it was driving me insane.

DING! The doors opened again… I held my breath. If Bangham was still messing with me, I didn't know what I’d do. Probably chase after him... and slip on the puddle of pussy paste. That would show him!

There he was! Bangham was standing in the elevator. No… wait! It was a man… not the tech lead, though... someone younger. Fuck! At that moment, I just wanted to evaporate. But nope! I just stood there... completely stuck… not moving at all. The embarrassment was worse than expected… and the pussy pulsing hit harder than imagined. 

“So, that’s your big job, huh?” the guy talked to my tits... didn't even look at my face. “Now, I get why you were nervous! Turning your puppet muppets into promo material.”

Colton… the arrogant assclown! What the fuck was he doing here? No time to ask questions… my sassy showstoppers were already responding… or more like, I already responded with my juicy jawdroppers. Cupped my cheeky cherries… pushed them up… presented them on a silver platter. But why? This was my coworker, not my target! But I couldn’t help it… all the waiting had put me in a dick-trance.

“I’m working the trade show,” the cocky coder informed me. “Everett was looking for you. Asked me to help you out with your task.”

Stunner! No way… not possible! Too shocked to say a thing. Whatever... the message was pretty clear anyway: the entitled exec didn't trust me to handle the job on my own. Thanks for the trust... real boost for my motivation… not! 

Colton was done with explanations anyways. He stepped out of the elevator… right in front of me. Uhhh!... I gasped… when his hands cupped those puppet muppets without any warning. Ungh!... I moaned… when he mauled my titty meat right off the bat. Umph!... I groaned… when he pinched my flesh hooks… which were rock hard already.

Step! He moved back, I stepped forward. Step! Step! He steered me straight into the elevator. Just like Bangham had done… only in reverse. Gasp… All these coders were the same… lining up to test-drive the new whoreporate drone. 

“Everett wants to make sure you show our target Aetherhead’s got more to offer than BOB,” Colton told me… while rolling my nipples between his fingers… casual… rough. “Gotta prove you’re more capable than their booth bunnies.”

Um… how the hell was I supposed to pull that off? No idea when I’d run into him again. No clue if he was actually into me. He’d just ditched me at the elevator after all.

“But here’s the best part,” The cocky coder exclaimed… sounding way too proud. “Everett put me in charge of deciding how you’re gonna prove it.”

No… absolutely not! I didn't need help... especially not from the delusional douche. I wasn't about to let him steal my laurels... no way! This was my mission… my success. I could do this. No, scratch that... I could do it better than anyone at Aetherhead! Honestly, I’d never been this motivated to prove someone wrong. Couldn’t wait to see Prince Privilege and his wannabe Squire McSmuggerson take the L and get humbled.

“For starters,” Colton kept going… nodding at the bag in my hand, “try using what you’re good at. You’re a booth bunny. No one’s expecting you to talk algorithms with the dude. Just make the interaction memorable. Show him the giveaways… but make it sexy.”

“Once, there’s a connection, invite him out for an informal drink,” he explained… totally unfazed by the look on my face. “Buy a couple rounds to loosen him up a little. You know, the kinda soft work that doesn’t require a lotta thinking. That part ain’t your department anyway.

“Then graduate to your real skills, the slut work. Promise him the full VIP experience,” he added with a smug shrug. “Take him to a gentlemen’s club. That’s where you end up soon anyway. Give him a special show. Trust me, that’s the lane you’re built for.” 

Wow! Sexist much? That wasn’t my skillset… not at all… totally the opposite, actually. And seriously? That was his revolutionary plan? I’d already done the whole giveaway thing for the high potentials. And the rest? Completely over the top! I wasn’t a stripper… and I definitely wasn’t working overtime today. I’d wrap this up during the trade fair… without even breaking a sweat. And then I’d rub it in his smug face forever. That would be historic!

“C’mon, dude, that’s your big idea?” I shot back. “Truly visionary! Changing the company one giveaway after the other.”

Once, I got going I couldn’t stop. The fact that the spoiled suit trusted Colton over me made my blood boil. This was too much… too triggering… pushing all my buttons.

“You’re an amateur,” I spat at the pompous prick… talking big, confident. “I can do way better than that. Watch ‘n’ learn!”

Damn right! I’d show him… I’d prove them all wrong… Everett, Colton, and all the other Aetherholes. I’d nail this task… on my own… because I was Arihead… the best whoreporate drone they’d ever seen. This was my shot. It would take me from intern to junior dev… from reception desk to dev floor. And when I became the youngest project lead ever, I’d laugh right in their stupid faces.

DING! The doors slid open… back in the hall. Showtime! I pushed Colton off and tugged my red minidress back into place, covering my tempting twins. Chin up, tits out… I strutted out of the elevator… and into the exhibition hall… ready to do whatever it took to poach the stack slammer.

---Hostess and Hounds---

Okay… I gotta admit… when I walked into the hall, I didn’t exactly strut… I ran through the place like a frayed roomba. I walked left… I walked right… I crossed the whole damn hall… till I ended back at the elevator. Fuck! Where should I go? How should I start?

Time was becoming an issue. I caught Everett’s look when I hurried past the Aetherhead booth… annoyed… irritated. I saw Bangham’s glance when I rushed past the BOB booth… amused… smug. Eventually, I stopped at Legit Linx… and out of nowhere, Colton stood next to me.

“Yo, check out those pens, handout hun!” he exclaimed… with fake enthusiasm. “Pretty sick, right? That sprout pencil’s perfect for you. Now that you’ve gone back to being a tofu terrorist.”

Cute… real cute. The hint was impossible to miss. The dismissive douche was calling me out for putting off that promised date. Still… I wasn’t gonna fall for it… not today… not on this mission. I wasn’t about to plant that sprout pencil in a fertile ditch.

“Oh, these are even better,” Colton kept going. “White with a pink logo. Just the right color combo for a bimbo like you, bubblegum bitch.”

Gah! thanks for the hint, dude. Didn’t need it… but okay. At least, one thing was clear… the macho moron was back to his usual smug, cocky self. Not sure if I liked it, though. But hey, the message was clear… no more mixed signals.

Anyway, it snapped me back into focus. I glanced around… the recruiter was busy talking to some candidate. Now or never! I grabbed the pen… the white pen, not the sprout pencil… obviously. Another look over my shoulder… I had to do something special… couldn’t just drop it in my bag… needed to find the right treasure chest’ to stash it in. 

If not the bag… a funbag would have to do. I slid the pen between my trembling tits. Damnit… still visible through the laces. The recruiter turned toward my… any second he’d see me fumbling with my rack crack. A push… and a tuck… the pen slipped under the crease of my left cherry. Out of sight… just in time. Yay!

But wait… Colton was gone. He’d just wandered off… bored… unimpressed. And Bangham was busy at the BOB stand. Great! All that effort … and nobody saw it. Love performing for zero audience. So glad I risked my whole career for absolutely nothing.

Whatever… this was just the first giveaway. Here was my plan: I wouldn’t use the Aetherhead gifts. Instead, I’d collect all the giveaways in my treasure chests… showing the sultan of syntax I wasn’t just his freeuse fucktoy… I also had flexible fuckholes. If that wasn’t agile working!

Another booth… another giveaway. This one was easy. Never change a running system, right? Another pen… tucked under the curve of my right cutie cup… like that fold of flesh was made for it. But that was it... no more room under my rack. Looked like an upgrade was needed. 

Next stop… the BOB booth. With every step, my legs got more wobbly… more unsteady. With every step, my nerves got more fried… more wrecked. And then I was there... stepped next to the guy Bangham was talking to… a data scientist. Took a second to gather all my courage.

“You need a pen?” I cut into their conversation. “Got a blue ‘n’ a black one.”

Gasp! My heart stopped. The research engineer turned to me… mustered me. It was my old tutor… the one who ran the lab session in my freshman year. Not exactly the reunion I had in mind. Cool! The plot twist I needed the least.

“Good idea!” the stack slammer reacted a bit too cheerfully.

And once again, my sassy showstoppers did their thing… or more like, I did my thing with my juicy jawdroppers. Squeezed my tits from the sides and bent forward. A grin spread over Bangham’s face… while my tutor’s jaw dropped in awe. And how did I react? I just prayed he wouldn’t recognize me. Didn’t need my Arihead escapades becoming campus gossip.

Ummm! I moaned… when Bangham reached into my rack crack. He wasn't gentle... obviously. His hand swiped through my titslit... slow… taking his time to get all the feels. He rummaged around in my cute cupboard... like it was an actual treasure chest. My titty flesh jiggled... threatening to spill out... more than once. Who doesn’t love a hands-on demonstration, right?

With a triumphant grin, the prompt pharaoh pulled out the blue pen... and showed it to my old tutor. Then he held it there... right in front of my face. And my reaction? I acted like a pretty poacher on a mission! Bent my head... pursed my lips... and sucked on the pen... like I was giving a blowjob.

“You see, some of our team assistants are too dumb to even type e-mails or schedule meetings,” Grandmaster Grid told my old tutor when he noticed him picking his jaw up off the floor. “But we don’t just fire people, we figure out where they’re actually useful ‘n’ put them there.”

“This one works best as a management moodtoy,” he nodded toward me. “Think of it like a human weighted lap pad with integrated stress balls. You keep it around to help your hard-working devs unwind. Am I right, Arihead?”

Oh shit! I should have never introduced myself like that. The nickname was never going away, was it? But then again, Arihead really said ’personal branding’, didn’t it?

Anyway, I was so busy presenting my precious puppies like a display dummy, I barely listened… till I noticed both of them staring at me… waiting. I had to react. But how? Easy! I grabbed a giveaway from my bag. A second later, I was chewing my pink gum and blowing a bubble… my version of saying yes while looking cute.

Shocker! Now, it was my jaw hitting the floor. I’d totally forgotten about the pen… Bangham hadn’t used it yet. But that changed when he reached back into my boob groove. This time, though, he yanked the red fabric down to my tattle-teats. Stunner! I braced for a nip slip... but he stopped right before it. Took the pen instead... and started writing. A word on my right meat mound… a word between my holy hills… a word across my left ham heap. Now, that’s the proper use of office supplies… not!

Good grief and gravy! I almost choked on my gum… I gasped so hard. Looking down, I finally saw what the prompt pharaoh had written: Bitch of Bang-her-clam… across the skin right under the hemline. The of peeked through the black laces, and the rest showed whenever the fabric shifted… because nothing says professional like body graffiti.

No… no, no, no! My mouth gaped open so wide the gum almost fell out. I hated it… but the guys loved it. As if anybody gave a damn about my feelings! By now, my old tutor had fully recovered from his shock, laughing his ass off… with the stack slammer... at me. 

“Go ahead,” Bangham encouraged the data scientist. “Take the other pen. You mark her now, she’s your Corporate Comfort Cunt when you join BOB.”

Excuse me? What the hell was happening? Was I poaching the sultan of syntax or was he poaching me? Either way, I couldn’t piss him off, so I had to play along. Pop! My bubble burst... literally. My way to say yes… and the guys knew it. A second later, my old tutor was rifling through my treasure chest, searching for the second pen. Now, that’s workplace mentorship done right!

Yay! I cheered… when he pulled out the pen… while I was still busy scraping pink gum off my cheeks. Eeegh… I squealed… when he put a hand on my back… and pushed me forward. Oh crapola! I was standing in the booth… bent over the counter... hem of my dress hiked up to my ass… facing the aisle… smiling at the guests walking by. Meanwhile, my old tutor stood behind me… writing something on the back of my thighs. Great! Team building through shared painting.

Umph! I grunted… when the research engineer pulled the hem back down. I glanced over my shoulder… at the reflective BOB sign. I saw the words… half covered by fabric... half visible: Coping Cunt… one word on each thigh. 

“Good start, moodtoy,” Bangham praised me. “But pens are entry-level. Bring me some real gadgets.”

“And if you ever hear the words ‘Coping Cunt’, that’s your cue. Just bend over ‘n’ take it,” he added.  

Spank… Grandmaster Grid followed his words with a slap to my ass. No chance to argue. While the words still rang in my ears, I stumbled forward … out of the booth... back onto the exhibition floor... hunting for more giveaways.

And that's when the hard part started. I needed a new ’treasure chest’. And I had to find better giveaways… because apparently one change at a time wasn't difficult enough. Doing everything at once... the basics of change management… not.

Next stop… NanoTechnica. I glanced around… still not sure how to pull of my next move. I grabbed the giveaway… a usb stick… round shape… logo plastered on it. Another quick scan… no Hens in Black… the recruiter busy. Perfect!

I dropped the flash drive. Oops! Then I squatted down… disappearing behind a counter. I spread my legs… hem riding up over my ass… pussy exposed. In one swift motion, I grabbed the stick… and pushed it up my twat. Good… bad! It slipped right back out … my snatch was too wet… too slick. 

This was taking too long… couldn’t just camp out behind the counter. So, I reached up and grabbed another giveaway… a power bank… same size as the flash drive. Fuck me... display droid never felt more accurate. I worked the charger up my cunt… slid it beside the stick. A push and a shove… gritted my teeth… grunted under my breath. It was in! Don’t you just love a practical storage solution?

I straightened up… but my knees buckled and I slid back down… not exactly easy standing up with a drive and charger up my cunt. Okay... new attempt. I let out a grunt… grabbed the counter… hauled myself upright. Finally standing! My sluicegate was stuffed… my snatch was stretched. How was I supposed to walk around like this? Guess you’ll never know till you try. Learning by doing, right? 

I put one foot forward… the thumb drive shifted… my cunthole clenched. Another foot forward… my wet valve squeezed the sticks so hard it felt like it might cut them in half. I gritted my teeth and got going… slow and careful… my legs slightly separated.  

Slowly... painfully slowly... I moved through the exhibition hall. The other tech firms were handing out boring stuff... webcam covers, laptop stickers... nothing useful. Awesome! I had to find a new hunting ground… and only one way to go… the trade fair. To get there, I had to cross the entire hall. More walking with my sluice-box stuffed… just what I needed… because nothing says grace like panic pussy clenching. Finally, I spotted a booth that actually looked promising. I was just about to reach it when something caught my eye… off to the side… someone waving… Colton! With the worst timing ever… of course.

The pompous prick was sitting in one of those little work cubicles… square shaped... table in the middle... two chairs... mid-height walls around it. His chat partner had just left. My turn... no way around it. I walked into the cubicle... tried to keep my legs together…  didn't want to send a warning flare… but failed. Didn’t sit down... no can do... not with my snatch stuffed like this. The cocky coder looked me over… my pussy clenched around the sticks… my hips jerked. 

“Is this still poaching or are you doing cardio?” he asked when he saw me fidgeting.

“Oh, I can recruit ‘n’ look good doing it,” I shot back. “It’s called multitasking. Gotta train for my victory lap later.”

Good comeback... if I hadn't undermined it by moaning the words instead of saying them. He even had a point… this was more cunt cardio than recruiting work. And the worst part? I was so caught up in what I was saying that the irony just… went right over my head… completely missed it. There I was bragging about multitasking… when apparently I couldn’t even handle one thing without messing it up. That’s what gadgets in your greasebox get you. 

But wait… the arrogant assclown didn’t even listen… he frowned… staring straight at my boob groove. Rude! But then again… my fidgeting had exposed my personal branding.

“So, that’s your big strategy, bubblegum bimbo? Switching loyalties?” he snorted. “Guess BOB really knows how to make a mark. I leave you unsupervised for a minute ‘n’ you get branded like livestock.”

Seriously? My jaw clenched… while my pussy clenched harder. Unsupervised? Livestock? The audacity… the accuracy! I’d gotten marked… claimed… didn’t even resist it. This felt less like I was recruiting the sultan of syntax and more like I was auditioning for a position as his moodtoy. The degradation twisted in my stomach … then surged lower… and burst with a barrage in my twat. My mind screamed humiliation… and my body screamed lust.

“Careful, Colt. Jealousy ain’t a good look on you,” I clapped back… but I had to force every word out.

Even worse, I said Colt. Not on purpose… I just couldn’t stop glancing at his crotch. Even now, his pants were bulging. Crapola! The constant cunt stretching made me crave the real thing. But stop… couldn’t get distracted… had a job to do. Besides, the pompous prick was just another intern… not a superior. Total no-go… not a smart career move. 

“I’m just saying I ain’t wanna end up doing all the work. Recruiting that dude ‘n’ cleaning up your mess,” the dismissive dickwad shrugged. “Looks like you can’t close the deal, so you let ‘em close you.”

Umph… that one landed... hard. The scary part? He had no clue how close he actually was. More clenching… jaw and cunt... swallowing a moan… keeping the sticks in my soaked slot. True to the motto: clench now, cry later!

But the alpha asshole didn't even notice... he’d already left the cubicle... without another glance. Fine… whatever! I still couldn’t figure out the dude. Maybe, I was right… maybe, he was jealous. Didn’t matter! I had bigger things to deal with. So, I turned… ready to walk out of the cubicle. And instantly stopped… Bangham! He swooped in before I could even move. Shot me a stern look… and said: “Coping Cunt.”

Fudge nugget! Loud enough for me to hear it… loud enough for others to hear it. Panic! I stopped… looked around. No one in the next cubicle. But two over? someone was in there. And people walking up and down the aisle. They could have heard something… probably did. Lucky for me, the hall was too loud... no one noticed. What a scare… what a thrill! Love that public humiliation was becoming my favorite energy drink.

Anyway, the sultan of syntax got impatient… and helped me out. Suddenly, he had the pen in his hand… the white pen… the Legit Linx pen. And then he dropped it. A clear sign… no more excuses. I basically saw it falling in slow-motion… but moved like someone had hit fast forward. No more thinking… just acting. My mind was way too dick-dazed to do anything else. I didn’t even look around… simply dropped to my knees… got on all fours. The hem of my dress slid up… revealing my ass and holes. Total power move… or more like, total submission.

I was hidden… for now… behind the mid-height panels. Any second, someone could walk by… peek over the wall… see me on the floor like an owned pet. The danger… and excitement… exploded in my pussy… almost washed the gadgets out of my gash. So, I quickly crawled under the table for a little more cover. Then I reached back and spread my butt cheeks. Face down – ass up… perfect pet position.

“Look at that!” Bangham exclaimed while leaning over to get the full view. “Got yourself a portable hard drive. Now, we can finally upload some knowledge into the Arihead.”

Mean! But honestly, I’d begged for it… sorta. How about uploading a few tips on becoming a project lead and making money fast? On my shopping trip, I’d seen a bunch of dresses I absolutely needed in my closet.

“Even better – a power bank,” the stack slammer exclaimed. “Got a bit greedy there, huh, comfort cunt.” 

Not fair! He’d told me to collect as many giveaways as possible. And that’s exactly what I did… just for him. Couldn’t deny my effort! Turns out, though, it was praise… not criticism. Next thing I knew, the prompt pharaoh pulled out a cable… walked around the table… and connected his phone to my cunt charger. Yep, dignity at zero... battery at a hundo.

No idea if it was the dick-daze or the absurdity, but it felt unreal… like an out-of-body experience. Kneeling in a cubicle at a busy tech fair… leashed and controlled… no chance to escape. If anyone discovered me like that, I couldn’t hide the truth… not with my pussy connected to a phone. While I was still trying to wrap my head around getting plugged in and recharged like an actual baitbot, Bangham didn’t just hang around… he dropped the phone on the table and walked out. Left me kneeling there… face on the floor, ass in the air… like an abandoned puppy.

“I'll be back when my phone’s recharged,” he told me… like it was the most normal thing to do at a job fair. “Don't you dare run away, my emotional support pet.”

Crap on a cracker! I wanted the ground to swallow me up… but I was already on the floor… no lower to go. But still… the excitement rushing through my body and the throbbing in my twat told me what I’d do… obey, not object.

I waited… and waited some more. I heard noises outside the cubicle walls… chatter from people walking by… music from booth demos. Whenever a voice grew louder, my heart skipped a bit. I expected someone to step into the cubicle at any moment. Still, I stayed in position… like a fetish exhibit at an adult convention.

And then it happened. I saw a pair of brown loafers stopping at the entrance. Not Bangham… he was wearing classic dress shoes. I held my breath... didn't move. If I couldn’t see him... maybe he couldn’t see me either. Made perfect sense… not. Now, I was actually thinking like a service animal. Love how the real education happens outside the college bubble. Nice to see the tuition paying off. But it didn’t work… the person entered the cubicle. This was the end!

“What the fuck is this?” the guy exclaimed when he peeked under the table… Everett.

My caviar cryboss looked annoyed… irritated even… like I’d done something wrong.

“You’re supposed to work, not laze about, deco doll,” he barked at me. “This ain’t leisure time, sweetheart, you’ve got a job to do. I was right sending Colton after you. Didn’t realize you were that incapable. Can't even do one thing right. Chewing gum’s already overheating that Arihead.”

Oh, fun… I hadn’t even noticed I was chewing gum again. Looks like it was becoming a habit. Wonderful! Guess, I earned that nickname. And still… the trust-fund toddler was totally out of line. This was me doing my job.

“You’re wrong, Aetherhole,” I shot back. “I don’t need no help. Everything’s under control. I’ve got our target locked down any moment. No prob!”

Yikes! That didn’t come out as angry as planned. I was grimacing several times in between… and quickly blew a bubble to mask it… which only reinforced that new nick. Ugh!

“Alright, doorbell doll, you get one more chance to prove you’re more than a badge bunny,” Everett didn’t sound convinced. “The job fair closes in an hour. After that, I’ll have to handle it myself, invite the guy to a business dinner. Was really hoping to avoid that. A man’s gotta look after his work-life balance.”

Cool story, bro! The boss looking after his own well-being while working his employees to the bone. That's what leadership’s all about. 

“I had plans to take out my newest squeeze tonight, get myself a piece of prime meat,” he went on… clearly not thrilled about working overtime. “It’s starting to look like you’re planning to stay the ‘Aetherhead welcome mat’ forever, tho.”

Charming! Didn’t need to know about Prince Privilege’s private life. Didn’t want to imagine the gold digger at his side. I’d never stoop so low as to go out with that rich kid reject. I’d actually prefer human welcome mat to that.

“Oh, and don’t forget ‘bout that last candidate, booth bunny,” the spoiled suit gave me another reminder. “We need one more participant for talent night. Be a doll ‘n’ get that done before the hour’s up.”

Oh, great… keep adding to the agenda... because this whole thing wasn't complicated enough already. But honestly, I’d totally forgotten about that. One more proof that the whole cunt stretching was really affecting my performance. Whatever… if I ever got out of this cubicle, I was in the perfect mood to chat up some candidate… felt like I was turning into a bubbly hugbox, getting more and more touchy-feely and clingy. Perfect requisite! Guess that’s what constant cunt stretching gets you. 

“Don't worry,” I tried to assure Everett. “I'll get right on it as soon as I've secured the signature from our target.”

Okay… gotta admit… that didn’t come across as calming as intended… especially not from my position under the table and with my pussy stuffed. Naturally, the entitled exec raised his eyebrow... critical... unconvinced. But he remained true to his favorite rule: ’never do a job yourself if you can dump it on someone else.’ Delegation first, effort never.

And with that, he left the cubicle. Crunch time! My last chance… I had to roll up my nonexistent sleeves and slay the challenge. Still, I had to wait for Bangham before I could get to it. Lucky for me, it only took a couple more minutes before the black dress shoes greeted me from the cubicle entrance.

“Look at that. The cunt charger actually works,” the prompt pharaoh said from above the table.

Phew! I actually sighed when he unplugged his phone from the power bank. But then he sat down... on a chair... right behind me. Oooh… I couldn’t help it… started groaning when he slid his finger over my sloppy slit. I grew stiff when he grabbed the flash drive and pushed it deeper inside my bitch ditch. Mmmh… I had to press my lips together to keep from moaning… loud… uninhibited. 

The sultan of syntax worked the gadgets in my greasebox. First, he took turns thrusting drive and charger in and out. Then he used them together… pounding them in and out simultaneously… like a thick-ass memory stack.

Mmm, oooh, mmm… I moaned under my breath. My eyes shut… my cheek pressed onto the dirty floor… my ass in the air… my French nails dug into my butt cheeks to hold on for good. I was totally lost in the moment… didn’t give a damn where I was. I was living in the moment… enjoying the shit out of the pussy pounding. I just wished it would be a real cock… Colt. No… any cock!

And then the stack slammer grabbed the drive and charger between thumb and forefinger. Gasp! He worked all four into my service canal. My wet valve widened, my drive-thru lane got jammed. And I came… and came… over and over again! 

It hit me like a ton of bricks… as I gushed slit spit all over Bangham’s fingers. My facial features slipped from my grasp... my tongue hung out, drooling… my eyes wide and rolled back. My face was one big vacancy sign advertising maximum submissiveness and zero brain cells left. Cool, cool, cool! My way to say: 'I got fucked so stupid I forgot how faces work.'

“Look what I found at the booth across the aisle,” Bangham held something up when I slowly returned to mother earth.

Gasp! I needed a moment to recognize it… a fidget toy… just the right stuff for stressed developers and overworked coders. The color? Neon pink… obviously. But what did I need a plastic tube for? Especially one that could be snapped, stretched, bent, and twisted? Stupid question. The longer I stared at it… the more it clicked.

Umph… I grunted… when the stack slammer set to work. Drive and charger were still up my cunt… but he didn’t care. He wriggled the pop tube in… above the power bank. The plastic pipe compressed… but still stretched out my snatch. Ungh, umph… more grunts bubbled out from my clenched lips… while Grandmaster Grid kept pushing and prodding… merciless, relentless. 

Sigh… finally, the fidget toy was secured in place, firmly implanted in my service canal. But wait… more than half of the plastic tube was still sticking out... like a pink beacon. I couldn't walk around the hall like that... no way! It would peek out from under my dress. 

Unnngh… I suddenly groaned out loud. The sultan of syntax had discovered those functions … snap, stretch, twist. He bent the plastic pipe and started cramming the pop tube into my twat… right below the flash drive. Both ends! He plunged both ends into my pussy. And with that, I officially left the starter slut loosening phase and stormed the gates of size queen territory.

Only problem? There was still a u-shaped pink tube sticking out of my fuckhole. What to do about that? No idea… I wasn’t in a state of mind to form a clear thought… even less solve such complex problems. Good thing, I had Bangham at my side. He grabbed my black hair and pulled my head off the floor. Then he pushed me back… till my crotch hit his shin. What the fuck? I grunted when another inch of pink plastic bored my baby lottery drum… on both ends. 

But then he stopped… not another move. I knelt on all fours under the table… my knees left and right of his foot. I needed a moment to grasp the situation… and the task. Then I bumped my ass back… and groaned louder. Bumped again… moaned through my teeth. There was no more stopping after that. I humped Bangham’s shin… while small orgasms rippled through me… over and over again. I didn’t stop till I’d buried the whole fidget toy up my cunt… only the pink crown peaked out. Told you, I was gonna slay this challenge.

---Corporate Chess---

Gloating… classic… always comes back to bite you in the ass, right? At least, that’s what happened with me bragging about training for my victory lap. Turns out, I needed every bit of cardio I could get… because getting through the exhibition hall was slow… agonizingly slow. I’d managed to bury most of the pop tube in my spaff deposit box… but the crown was still sticking out… forcing my thighs apart. So, I basically waddled through the hall bow-legged. High heels and bandy legs… a match made in heaven. Yay!

Back at the job fair, I was still hunting for the last participant for our talent night. I checked everywhere… all the way to the end of the hall. Damn, all that waddling was really exhausting. Truly the posture of a future industry leader. Fortunately, there was a coffee lounge on one side and soundproof meeting pods on the other. I could kill for a coffee… and a break. 

BINGO! I spotted the perfect candidate at the coffee counter... horn-rimmed glasses, scarf, corduroy pants... the socially awkward genius. Stepping next to him, I offered to buy… on the house… the Aetherhead house, obviously. 

The hornboy was interested... but he had questions... lots of questions. So, I made him an offer. After we got our coffees… caffè americano for me, iced brown sugar oatmilk shaken espresso for him… I suggested to take this thing to one of the meeting pods so we could talk in private… and peace.

Those pods turned out to be super functional... soundproof... a glass wall on one side… the rest shielded from view. Small problem? Sitting didn't really work with my sluicebox stuffed. Had to plant my butt on the seat while my pussy hung in the air. Oof! I’ve sat on more comfortable gyn chairs.

Still, I answered all the hornboy’s questions… even while grimacing and squirming around… which he completely missed. Nerd! Whatever… didn’t take much convincing to get him to sign up for the talent night. Finally… the victory I deserved. Couldn’t wait to report my success, so I took advantage of the meeting pod. Once the guy left, I put my laptop on the desk… typed up the participant list. Done! Sent straight to Mr. Okafor. He wanted updates… even though it was the weekend. Yay! Nothing beats a triumph that immediately becomes admin work.

Didn’t even take a minute before my phone rang... Okafor. Apparently, the workaholic couldn't even switch off on weekends. And of course, he had questions about the candidates, so he basically grilled me over the phone for every piece of intel. Love the immediate interrogation. Shows real trust in your employees.

"Well, Hoodieboy looks like he maybe owns two hoodies max - one black, one gray," I reported. "He thinks everything’s morally questionable that ain’t Linux... ugsh, ugsh, ugsh…" 

That was all I could say… before a hand grabbed my head... turned it to the side... and shoved something hard between my lips. What the fuck?

Bangham! He’d found the meeting pod... stepped inside… closed the door so no one could hear us. But someone could see us! The pods were set up in a circle... like a wagon fort. The inside walls were glass, meaning everything was visible from inside the circle... nothing from outside. As if it mattered! I was still on the phone with Mr. Okafor… he could hear everything. But of course, the prompt pharaoh didn’t give a damn. 

Lucky for me, our Head of HR was doing most of the talking. 'Shhhlrrrp, shhhlrrrp, glugg'... he was explaining what else I should find out about the candidates.... 'shhhlrrrp, glugg, glugg'... he was so wrapped up in his speech he didn't even notice the slurping noises... 'glugg, glugg, shhhlrrrp'... which I was trying really hard to keep on the down low.

Crap on a cracker! Grandmaster Grid just kept using my mouth... no matter where... no matter when. He turned my face into a freeuse fleshlight... and I let it happen... didn't resist. Actually… I did the opposite! I wanted it... wanted his cum… I deserved it! Not proud of it, but I let the prompt pharaoh slam my suckhole. All I did was make sure the Chief Vibes Officer didn’t notice anything on the phone. At least, my priorities were straight.

'Glugg, urrrgh, urrrgh'... Bangham started thrusting harder... faster. The smacking turned into gagging. 'Ack, ack, urrrgh'... he pushed deeper... hitting my tonsils. The gagging went full berserk. 'Urrrgh, ack, ack, urrrgh, ack, ack'... he kept goring my gullet... over and over. I had to clutch my phone... couldn't drop it. And then Okafor asked a question. Ain’t that fantastic timing?

"Oh, not so sure... urrr, urrrgh... how well he'd fit into the team... amm, umph, ack..." I stammered.

"Hoo... huhhh, hurrrgh... hoodieboy keeps saying things like 'actually, that's trivial’... ell, urrl, urrrrgh," I somehow managed to finish.

"Sorry, the connection... unnnh, ungh... is really poor," I quickly apologized.

Stellar communication skills, right? But then the awkward exchange ended when the sultan of syntax pulled my lips away from his big black cock. My reaction? Just pursed my lips... on instinct. Splish, splash... he slapped his shaft against my smeared pout.  Splish, splash... the wet smacking got loud... dangerously loud… but I held my position.

"What are those weird noises?" Colonel Compliance finally asked.

Wow! Impressive how long it took him to notice. To be fair, though, he was talking over the loudspeakers while driving.

"Oh... um… splish, splash... I'm just walking through...  splish, splash ... puddles,” I muttered before quickly pursing my lips again.

What a stupid excuse… a real ten-outta-ten. Who’d ever believe that? Surprisingly, the Chief Vibes Officer did… or at least he stopped asking. Even Bangham let go of my head… for a second. Then he nearly gave me a heart attack… when he took the phone out of my hand. And I just stared at him… completely confused. Totally unimpressed, the stack slammer held it up to my ear so I could still hear Okafor... who just kept talking… like nothing had changed. 

I could have gotten up... grabbed the phone… stormed out of the pod. I could have hung up and yelled at the prompt pharaoh... no one was stopping me. But I didn’t do a damn thing. Glass? Didn’t even glance. Task first. Moved my head back and forth. I’d made my choice! Only one thing to do now… make sure it helped my career... otherwise all of this would have been pointless. Flawless logic, right?

Quack, quack, urrrgh... I gave Grandmaster Grid the slobbiest no-hands blowjob ever. Glugg, quack, quack... my self-gagging was louder than the skull-fucking. Glugg, quack, urrrgh... I tried to be careful… didn’t want Okafor to hear any of it through the phone. If that wasn't a masterclass in multitasking!

"Ariana, you there?" Colonel Compliance suddenly asked.

Wow! HR really knew how to keep things exciting. But no chance to respond… because my blood ran cold. Bangham lifted the phone to his mouth. Glugg, quack, quack... I kept sucking… while literally waiting with bated breath to see what he’d do. I went deeper… slobbered harder… trying my best to keep the stack slammer happy. Didn’t want him to do something stupid.

"Uh-huh... mhm... aha," Bangham muttered into the phone.

Truly thoughtful communication! But wait… was this active listening? Was he giving feedback without actually saying anything. Honestly? Kinda clever! And I hate that it might actually work.

Quack, quack, urrrgh... I responded the easiest way… by sucking harder. And Bangham muttered louder in return. But what if it wasn’t enough? What if Okafor noticed? Whatever! Finally, someone was listening to me. I always thought that was true romance. Spoiler alert: it's real dangerous!

A second later, Bangham's free hand was back on my head... and the phone was pressed to my ear. Bad combo! He pumped my head back and forth... he was close... his cock already twitching. He pressed my suction trap into his crotch jungle... his big bad boner slipped into my throat... held it there. My breathing was cut off... my gagging got louder... unmistakable… impossible to hide. Any second… any second now… Okafor would hear it. Fantastic! I might as well announce it over the speakers: ‘Dear visitors, free blowjobs in the meeting pods. Step right up! Who hasn't had a turn yet, who wants another round?’

Bzzt-dzt-krrzt! Kshhhhhhhv!... suddenly there was just static... the connection dropped. Colonel Compliance must have driven into a dead zone. Radio silence… what a gift! The valley of the clueless... great place to humiliate yourself in peace and without witnesses.

Hnnngh... muffled groan from Grandmaster Grid. Sploosh... wet volley of whipped cream... Gulllp... my throat doing the work… gurgling… swallowing. 

Bangham held my head down... his big black cock buried in my gullet... as he emptied his balls. The whole cumload went right into my belly. No need to swallow... my throat just worked on its own. A real survival skill!

And then I caught movement... through the glass. A Chrome-Polished Pussy Patrol Officer in the meeting area... looking for her boss. Our absence had been noticed. Crapola! The sultan of syntax was standing right in front of me... his back to the glass wall… so the blond baitbot couldn't see me. But I still slapped my palms against his thighs to warn him. Amazing timing from the universe right there!

Bangham got the message... he wasn't stupid. In one quick move, he yanked his big bad boner out of my throat... zipped up... and turned around. Stepping out of the pod, he greeted the display drone with a big smile on his face. Fudge nuggets! He pulled out so fast his slimy soul food almost spilled out along with it. I barely managed to close my mouth in time. If that wasn’t crisis management at its finest!

So… there I was, sitting alone in the pod with a huge trout pout... phone in one hand... wiping drool off my chin with the other. My cheeks were burning with shame...like an overheating graphics card. Luckily, though, the Chrome-Polished People Pleaser Ornament only had eyes for her boss... not for another deco droid. Made sense. Why should she notice my existence when someone actually important was present? Logic, duh!

Bzzt-dzt-krrzt! Kshhhhhhhv!... the static kept going. The connection never came back. Okafor was gone. So, I fixed my face... as best I could inside a pod... and left the meeting area.

Yikes… I still had the taste of man jam in my mouth… could really use another coffee. So, I made my way back to the coffee lounge… waddling… because the giveaways were still stashed in my treasure chest. After ordering my second café americano I checked out the lounge, looking for the most inconspicuous spot. A three-sided counter... bar tables in front of it... booths on the sides. The choice was easy… a seating nook in the far corner. Once again, I pulled out my notebook and added the information Colonel Compliance wanted.

The list was done... the coffee was gone. I stood up... groaning… because stuffed sluicebox… duh! There was a tray cart behind my booth. I put my coffee cup on a tray… and noticed a shadow. Didn’t even get the chance to look up. 

“Coping Cunt!” I felt the words before I heard them, running down my spine like server cooling.

Bangham! Again? So soon? Son of a gun! But at least the place was kinda secluded… two visitors standing at a bar table… a barista boy working at the other end of the counter. Not ideal… but I was hidden behind the booth back… didn’t get much better than that. I didn’t move… held my breath… felt Bangham’s hands grab the hem of my dress and pull it up. Gasp… cool air hit my soft skin… giving my ass goosebumps. No! I wanted to say. Umph! I grunted instead. 

The prompt pharaoh didn't hesitate... grabbed the pink plastic crown and pulled it out... just like that. Splosh... my velvet walls bulged… my wet valve snapped open… then shut again. Pop! The plastic tube made a popping sound when it decompressed. Bangham chuckled… I cursed.

My seedbank felt open for business… and ruined for normal cocks. The term sluicegate had never been more accurate… I was leaking so much clam chowder the drive and charger followed right behind… slipping out and dropping to the floor… clanking, clattering. I held my breath. Did anybody hear? The barista boy? The business blokes? No time to check… I got 99 problems and voyeurs weren’t one.

“You missed some giveaways,” Bangham said behind me. “Our very own BOB gifts. They’re actually my favorites.”

Um… yeah, sorry… not sorry. I’d seen them… but I had no idea how to use them. Apparently, though, Grandmaster Grid had other ideas. Amazing! This was turning into another educational experience. Just what I needed for a weekend.

“This one’s perfect, don’t you agree, comfort cunt?” he asked holding the giveaway in front of my face.

No! I wanted to say. Umph... I grunted again. The sultan of syntax ran the tip through my leaking cum treasury… and I had to grab one of the trays in the cart to stay standing. The stack slammer kept playing with my pussy… and my body kept responding. My tits ended up on a tray… bulging… looking bigger than their original B-cups. My ass stuck out… my booty wriggling… trying to lure Grandmaster Grid to my sipping slot. Fantastic! My reflexes were really betraying me today.

“Gives you a good grip to lead your emotional support pet around,” Bangham started listing the pros. “You can even use it to mount your moodtoy anywhere you like.”

Oh, barf! What a way to describe a stupid promo gift. What kinda giveaway, you ask? A pop socket… no kidding! But wait… what the hell was he doing back there? 

Unnngh... I groaned before I could investigate. And for good reason! All giddy, he pressed the round base of the phone grip into my docking station… but not my breedhole… my asshole. The audacity! I could definitely add this to my list of ‘things I didn’t plan today’.

I clenched my gapekeeper… instantly… inevitably. I was adventurous... but come on… not that adventurous. I still didn't know the guy's name... and he was already poking around in my lootbox. Give me a break! But what could I do? No touch was no solution either... I was way too horny for that. I'd take anything I could get. My body actually embraced it before my brain caught up… my hips started gyrating before I even realized. 

Ohhh... I moaned. His left hand pressed my clit while the pop socket knocked on my emergency exit. The more he shoved the plastic grip against my stink ring… the more he pushed my pleasure button. Guess that’s what they call ’give and take’!

Ooohhh... I moaned louder. A push and a shove followed… my body lurched forward and… shit! My head got stuck halfway in the tray cart. I looked at discarded coffee cups while a pop socket examined my bowels. What was this? A colonoscopy: slut edition with disposable cups as witnesses? Truly living the dream! 

Umph... I grunted... as the round base rammed down my back-alley gate. Ungh</em… I groaned… as my rusty o-ring snapped open and shut again. Ohhh... I breathed a sigh of relief... as the phone grip was deeply stuck up my dookie nookie.

No chance to argue... Bangham already pulled me away from the tray cart. I barely just managed to pull down my minidress and cover my ass. Then I stood by the counter… while the sultan of syntax walked off... whistling… like this was no big deal.

I glanced around… frantic… nervous. Nobody seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary... except the barista boy. He looked at me… like something didn’t add up. Did he know? Couldn’t tell… wouldn’t ask! My face was already so hot I felt like I was thermal throttling. No way I’d make it worse! 

Hesitantly, I started moving… slow... agonizingly slow. This was becoming a running gag, wasn’t it? But this time was even worse. With every move, I felt the pop socket digging deeper into my slopchute... made me grit my teeth... while making my pussy throb. I tried to act normal… and delivered an absolutely convincing performance… not!

I knew I couldn't wander around for long, so I made a beeline to the Aetherhead booth. Everett was busy talking to the founder of some AI start-up. The two had been deep in conversation for a suspiciously long time. But whatever… none of my business! It just meant he had no time for me. I’d done my job... recruited candidates for our talent night. The trust fund toddler wouldn’t be interested in the Arihead until I’d completed the real mission… poach the target. Pressure? Check! Not enough caffeine? Check. Welcome to adulting.

So, I went over to the Bytes of Bangingham booth... inconspicuous... excited. Grandmaster Grid was busy talking to the NanoTechnica project lead, so I couldn't interrupt. Instead, I drifted toward the stage where a professor was giving a talk about the latest developments in cybersecurity... honestly an exciting topic... I’d taken a class about it last semester. 

Only problem? The timing couldn’t have been worse. No chance to concentrate… because stuffed slopchute… duh! So, I sat down in the back row... hoping to blend into the darkness. But my thoughts kept wandering… and I caught my ass shifting around… while my back-alley gate was tensing and relaxing around the pop socket. Oh crapola! I was massaging the improvised plug with my gapekeeper... while sitting at a tech talk! Luckily, it was pretty dark in the audience area… no one could see my face. It kept slipping from my control… my lips parted… my eyes drifted upward… my cheeks flushed red… like a flickering vacancy sign advertising an empty head. Kinda on-brand for the Arihead, right?

Squish... I flinched. Total jump scare! A hand... on my tit... grabbing my sassy showstopper. What the fuck? In the middle of a crowd... during a talk? Panic! And yet… I didn't turn around right away. No one was sitting next to me... and everyone else was focused on the stage. Funny how I decided to bathe in the danger… instead of playing it safe.

What did I do? I acted on instinct… opened my mouth... turned my head to the side. It could only be Bangham... I was so sure of it I even expected his hard cock next to my face... so I offered my vocal vacuum for fucking. Excellent choice… the most humiliating option available… flawless judgement!

Squish... another tit squeeze. I pursed my lips into dick-sucking pillows... looked like I was sulking because I didn't get what I wanted. But then the stack slammer pushed his index finger through my hot-take hole... like a pacifier. Fantastic! My stress response was a trout pout? And the appropriate coping mechanism was a pacifier. Could it get any more undignified?

"Hey man, sit down or move on!" a voice shouted at Bangham.

Oh crapola! That came out of nowhere… giving us both a scare. Unexpected hero or audience participation? What would be better? No idea… no capacity to think. Turned out to be a behind Bangham... couldn't get past... couldn't see a damn thing. Panic! Did he see me sucking on my pacifier? Nope... he was staring straight at the stage. Phew! 

Still… a wake-up call… and not without consequences. Suddenly, Bangham’s hands disappeared. Told you, he wasn’t stupid. And yet… I instantly longed to feel them back where they belonged… on my boobs, in my fuckholes. Nothing like emotional whiplash to spice things up. But it wasn’t happening. Instead, the sultan of syntax grabbed my hand… pulled me to my feet... and led me away from the stage. 

Nearby was a row of u-shaped booths... wall to wall. Just before we got there, we bumped into Colton… of course. Where the hell did he come from? Always popping up at the worst moment.

“Hey, you’re Aetherhead too, right?” Bangham asked him… flat out. “Mind keeping a lookout for us?” 

That was blunt… even caught our resident douchebag off guard. He looked quizzical… his gaze moving from the prompt pharaoh to me… and back again. But the prompt pharaoh had no patience for office drama. Uhhh… I suddenly squeaked… when he pushed me into the narrow aisle between the two booths. Bending me over, he exposed my ass… showed off the improvised butt plug. Hello? The talk was on stage. I wasn’t part of the presentation.

“See?” the stack slammer showed Colton my stuffed stink ring. “Gotta unplug this moodtoy before it short-circuits. Don’t wanna risk smoke coming outta its ears, setting off the fire alarm.”

What a dumb joke! But it broke the tension. Like a true alpha asshole, my fellow intern burst out laughing. Awesome! Two idiots bonding… Captain Colt and Grandmaster Grid. They were getting along way too fine. I really needed to throw a wrench in their budding bromance before it was too late.

“Haha! Didn’t know Arihead got a side hustle as product tester,” Colton joked back. “So that’s what they mean by user-friendly design.”

“Hehehe! Yeah, but look at the pop socket!” Bangham added. “It really customizes the comfort cunt. Gives her some personality. Makes her stand out from all the other surgeon-sculpted cuntent creatwhores around here.”

“Haha! The bubblegum bimbo literally integrated the hardware,” Colton piled it on. “That’s some next-level cummitment. Impressive recruiting strategy. Some people shake hands, our Arihead shakes dicks with her ass.” 

Wow! The roasting session was in full swing… two comedy geniuses at work. Kill me! But seriously, they were acting like two long-lost brothers who’d sought and found each other... egging each other on. Any second, I expected them to start roughhousing. And all of this was happening in the middle of a job fair… during a tech talk… while I was standing there like background decoration… silent, still... like a deactivated display droid. 

“Sure, I’ll help with the product test,” Colton finally agreed… with a smirk. “I mean, obviously, the handout honey couldn’t handle it by herself. Who else is surprised? What would the Arihead even do without me?” 

Gross! The code cowboy was basically talking to my ass... and he loved every second of it. He knew exactly how much I hated depending on him… and he was right. I stood there trembling in the cramped aisle... bent over and plugged… while the men joked around. This was humiliating as hell. Even worse, this was turning into yet another favor I owed the cocky coder… making it harder and harder to put off our date. Great! One more debt… keep it coming… not.

Another shove… I stumbled down the narrow aisle… trying not to trip over the wild tangle of cables and cardboard boxes on the floor. The left booth had a protruding center wall... probably for a screen... creating a small space. The perfect blind spot! That's where the prompt pharaoh pushed me. Exactly the kinda place where people make decisions they regret later. Chef's kiss!

"So, coping cunt, time to put the real offer on the table," Bangham said… standing behind me. "You want my attention? You gotta start working your way up."

Excuse me? Did he think filling my treasure chests was a hobby? Yeah, right!

"Actually, the next step would be for you to lick my ass ‘n’ give me a titjob," the sack slammer explained. "But you ain't got the equipment for that. Where are the inflatables?"

Wow! My mouth stood open... in shock... and outrage!

"You sound like a duck, but you ain't look like one. Where's the resting insta-face?” he explained. “You’re an airhead, but you ain’t got airbags on your chest."

Seriously? That hit harder than I wanted to admit. I was a high potential... I had skills… I didn't need to look like a member of the Barbie Clone Army. And yet… I felt this inner urge to please the guy. My head said, ’Ignore him!’... while my heart said, ’I’m a boss pleaser!’ But not like this! Why did he prefer the Fake Glam Fame Club? I was a natural beauty… I looked hotter than any member of the Silicone Syndicate. This was offensive! 

Ugh!... I saw my chances slipping away... after everything I’d done! In a twisted way, I wanted to prove Grandmaster Grid wrong. I wanted to show him that a natural nympho was a way better lay than any botox bimbo could ever be. What a combo! It took my breath away... and made my pussy pulse. Great! My cunt was a twisted perv.

Too late… I’d already reacted. Turning around, I pressed my palms against the wall... spread my legs wide... and stuck my ass out. Jeez! I was practically offering myself up for a groping... and a poking… in the dirtiest, darkest corner of the exhibition hall. But I wasn’t done… took things a step further. I practically twerked... made my red minidress ride up to my hips all on its own... didn’t stop till my ass was bare for the taking. Got it? Flaunt it, right? And I got a prime taco-truck tush. Fantastic! Now, I was turning the secret corner into a strip club. Could anybody act sluttier at a trade fair? Probably not… but it was a fight or flight situation... and I chose fuck. A bold choice... not a smart choice... but a choice nonetheless.

“You’re not man enough to fuck a real beauty,” I teased him… gazing backwards over my shoulder… wiggling my ass. “Just those spray-tan sluts.”

Umph!... Bangham didn’t react as expected… he didn’t jump at the golden opportunity. Instead, he crossed his arms... waited for me to offer more. Crapola! What else could I do? My brain screamed, ’Stop! Boundaries!’... while my heart screamed, Challenge accepted!’. 

"I don't think I need inflatables," I pouted… dramatically… theatrically. "I need my ego deflated. What you say? Would a good spanking help?"

Oh joy… look what he made me do! Once again, I asked for punishment... literally begged for it. The strategy had worked before... at the laundromat with Colton… it would work again with Bangham. It had to… because nothing said negotiation skills like, ’Please punish me!’

Yikes! I hadn’t been able to stand the pressure… not even for a second. I’d immediately buckled and turned the power game into a begging game. Efficient... for a sub. Bangham’s reaction? Classic... for a Dom. 

But then the sultan of syntax moved… finally! He slid his hand over my bare buns. Mmm!... I moaned as I felt the heat... savored the touch. Argh!... I bit my lip… suppressed a scream… as the first blow landed on my ass.

Crap on a cracker! I couldn't cry out loud... I was standing at the back of an exhibition booth. There were people on the other side of the wall! If someone in the industry found out what was going on in this blind spot, I was dead to the business... my career would be over before it had even begun. But then again… if I pulled off this mission and poached the target, I’d take a huge step up the career ladder. On the one hand... on the other hand… no time for that. 

Thwack!... Bangham didn't give a fuck about moral complexity... he only cared about spanking my ass with ferocity. Arrrgh!... I suppressed the screams as best I could... but my ass shook harder with every slap. Thwack! Thwack... he started alternating between my butt cheeks… like this was a competition which bun could burn hotter and glow redder. Arrrgh! Umppph! Arrrgh!... I whimpered and whined... my ass wiggled and wobbled... my pussy throbbed and dripped.

Thwack! Thwack! Pop! ... suddenly the stack slammer pulled the pop socket out of my ass. Fudge nugget! I’d completely forgotten about the plug. Arrrgh! Umppph! Mmm!... I whimpered and moaned through clenched lips.  Thwack! Thwack! Pop!... left cheek slapped… right cheek spanked... butthole stuffed. Arrrgh! Mmmph! Mmm!... I moaned more than I whimpered. 

My mind was occupied with the sensations raining down on my ass. Every slap exploded like a lightning in my head… and erupted like firework in my cunt. But wait… there was something else. My chocolate stargate was getting looser... worn out... a completely new experience for me. You know that moment when you discover stuff about yourself you never wanted to know.

Ew!... something new again... something else I didn't need to learn about… the taste of my ass. Instead of ramming the pop socket back up my butt, the prompt pharaoh shoved it into my mouth. Ewww!... the bitter taste hit me with full force. And I started sucking… despite my grossed-out mewling… another pacifier. Awesome!

Mmmh... Bangham moved on to the next level… slipping three fingers deep into my pussy. Mmmhhh... he crooked his middle finger and started banging away.  Mmmh, mmmh, mmmhhh... he hit my internal joy button. Thwack… he picked up the ass thrashing… left cheek slapped… right cheek spanked… cheer switch triggered.

Bursts of pleasure exploded everywhere… in my throbbing twat… in my twitching trapdoor… in my overheating head. Just then I was happy for my pacifier. Otherwise, I might have screamed down the walls of the booth. The effects were drastic enough. I came… hard… fast uncontrollable. Squish! Splash! Splurrrt!... I didn’t just cum, I squirted all over the place... like a sprinkler system. As if those tangled cables and cardboard boxes needed watering!

“You think you’re all wet ‘n’ warmed up for the real thing?” the stack slammer asked me. “Think you can take it?

“You bet!” I shot back without even realizing the pop socket was gone from my mouth. “You’ll just cum in two seconds any…”

My words got stuck in my throat when my cornhole got crammed shut again. No time to scream… or even yelp. Shhhlurrrp!... the big black cock plowed forward… parting my swollen slutlips and plunging into my pussy. Squishhh!... smacking sounds announced the banging of my gift box. 

Wow! Seriously… wow, wow, wow! It actually happened. The moment had arrived... my nut vault was getting nailed. About time! It wasn’t Captain Colt… and it wasn’t Prince Privilege… it wasn’t even Colonel Compliance… it was the project lead from a rival company. I bet the universe didn’t see that one coming… I sure didn’t! At that moment, though, I didn't care who it was… as long as he fucked my brains out.

Oh, well! I didn’t care where it happened either… as long as I came again. This stuffy little spot... hidden between tangled cables with visitors all around… was just fine. Romance was dead... buried in those cardboard boxes. But the twisted thrill of danger blossomed in the darkest, dirtiest corner... leaving me hornier than ever.

"How many men you fucked the last month, huh?” Bangham asked in between thrusts. “Can you count that high?"

Ooohhh! Aaahhh! Mmmph!... I was too busy keeping my moans on the down low to answer. The initial euphoria started mixing with another feeling. The pop socket... remember? It was still stuck in my ass... while Grandmaster Grid pounded my pussy. I was practically getting double stuffed… another new thing. Guess doing everything at once was my thing. 

Ooohhh! Mmmh! Gaaawwwd... after just a few strokes, my taco sauce was already covering half his shaft. The big bad boner was even longer than Colton’s colossal cock… and only a little thinner. With every thrust, he slipped deeper… while my grunts got lower. My arms were giving out… till my cheeky cherries got pressed against the booth walls. I was dancing on my tip toes… while my personal pushpins scraped over the panel. Great! Another sensation to add to the pleasure portfolio overwhelming my body.

"You better enjoy looking so sexy,” Bangham exclaimed. “Cause that cunt’s gonna look like it pushed out twins when I’m done with it.”

Blunt… bot not wrong. There was only one feeling… the evisceration of my storage cavity. Every gut roiling thrust pierced my cervix… a mix of pain and pleasure. The void inside me was so overfilled it felt like he was stabbing me in the guts… probably leaking precum in my womb. And my velvet walls reacted by contracting… like they were trying to milk the baby gravy into my personal gene lab.

Aaahhh! Hnnngh! Ooohhh... my moans got louder… dangerously loud. There could be people on the other side of the panel, forcing Bangham to react. A pull and a shove… he yanked the plug from my ass and stuffed it into my mouth. Still gross… but helpful. No way I’d ever get used to the rancid taste. But then another climax hit me… while I sucked on my pacifier. 

I was so caught up in the throes of my climax I didn't notice at first... but I was about to find out what a dickdown meant... up close and personal. Amazing! Another new thing for my collection. The stack slammer kept banging my gift box. And with every thrust, my knees got weaker and my legs shakier. All the while, my tattle-teats pressed against the panel… like they were about to pierce through the material... and wave at the visitors on the other side while they discussed KPIs. 

Just before the breakthrough, my legs gave out completely... I practically did a smack and slide. But this wasn’t a comedy show… I slid down the back wall of a trade fair booth… practically a porn parody. Charming!

My knees hit the ground... followed by my hands. Suddenly, I was on all fours on the dirty floor of the exhibition hall... between tangled cables... and dust. Gross... but insignificant. The only thing that mattered? That big black cock was still in its personal dick garage. 

Mmmhhh fckkk! Mmmhhh yssss!... I moaned around the pop socket… while Bangham towered over my ass... like my plump back porch was his personal throne. With his feet beside my knees... the prompt pharaoh had driven his black obelisk straight down my pleasure grotto. A totally different angle... stretching my pussy to whole new dimensions. The new things just kept coming… while I kept cumming.

Oooaaahhh fuuuckkk!... no more holding back my screams of pleasure. When Grandmaster Grid drilled my baby dropbox like a jackhammer, I lost all control. Not just my face… but my whole body. Once again, my arms gave out… and my head landed in the dirt. I barely noticed. There was only one thing on my mind: I didn't know it was possible to squirt that much... but I was still cumming… turning my silk sleeve into a water slide. The cock slid in and out like butter... making the sloppiest smacking noises I'd ever heard. Looked like he was trying to plant his black obelisk in a swamp.

And then the cock was gone. Bangham pulled it out... and slid it up my ass crack. I held my breath… and my gapekeeper clenched… when his dickhead reached my back-alley gate. He couldn’t… he was too big. But I didn’t protest… didn’t say a word… just kept mewling out the afterthroes of my orgasm.

“Don’t worry, comfort cunt, passing on my genes means maintaining quality control,” Bangham told me… his breath choppy… his cock straining. “I ain’t here to start a dynasty of booth bunnies who think strategy’s a lipstick shade. I want heirs, not a reality show cast.”

Hard pass! Every word made my body tremble… my pussy pulse… and my trapdoor twitch. My drain gate literally drained his dickhead. And a second later, Grandmaster Grid let out a low growl. His cock erupted… dropping the father of all jizzbombs into my backyard bunker. It felt more like an enema than a cumshot… if the saline solution were sack speckle.

I was still kneeling on the dirty exhibition floor… panting heavily… my puckerhole pulsing… the man jam bubbling in my ass pipe. Umph… I yelped when I felt Bangham stuffing some paper up my butt… and grunted when he followed it with the pop socket. Oh, come one… not again! My emergency exit was plugged again. Guess the prompt pharaoh felt like the moodtoy needed recharging.

“That’s my business card,” the sultan of syntax explained. “Tell your boss he can call me ‘n’ make an appointment for contract negotiations.”

And with that, he walked out on me… left the narrow aisle… while I stayed on my knees… face on the floor, ass in the air… booty bunker filled with a greasy goodbye gift, a business card, and a pop socket. Just as I thought our negotiations would go.

A few moments later, Colton showed up in the cramped aisle… obviously wondering where I’d gone. Gotta admit… he’d done a solid job as a lookout… not that I’d tell him after all that banter with his black bro… wasn't exactly in the mood for any more jabs. But then the cocky coder actually surprised me… helped me up and told me to hurry… said Everett was about to leave. Perfect timing… as always.

You know the drill. I walked slowly... agonizingly slowly... back to the Aetherhead booth. I couldn't wait to deliver the good news to the trust fund toddler. But he just looked at me and grinned... as if he didn't give a damn.

"Oh, Arihead, everything’s settled,” he told me… his tone dripping with more arrogance than Colton could ever manage. “That BOB product manager? Never our target. We’re looking to buy an AI start-up ‘n’ turn it into a new department. BOB had the same goal, so we had to make sure their man stayed distracted while I negotiated with the founder.” 

“Gotta say, you did an excellent job, sweetheart. Didn’t expect that!” the spoiled suit praised me… sorta. “You're a good smokescreen slut. Proved yourself as decoy doll today."

Excuse me? My mouth dropped open when it dawned on me. This whole time, I hadn’t been recruiting talent, I’d been running interference. I’d been a piece in a corporate chess game… nothing but a pretty pawn.

“Cool,” I said flatly. “Love my role as ‘tactical eye candy’. Really makes those student loans feel worth it.”

“Oh, don’t you pout, badge bunny,” Everett mocked me. “What’s that thing you spring chickens say? You slayed the challenge!” 

“Cheer up, kiddo!” he got more serious. “At Aetherhead, we reward good performances. I decided to put you in charge of the talent night tomorrow. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“If you do as well as you did today, you get that tryout as culture manager for my team,” he dangled the carrot in front of my face. “Keep proving yourself, doll, ‘n’ you’ll pay off those student loans faster than any of your fellow coeds."

Well, it didn't really feel like compensation for my efforts... the busted baby hatch... the battered backdoor. But still… my caviar cryboss had a point. My main goal had been simple: get away from the front desk… and I’d gotten a lot closer to that goal. On the one hand... on the other hand.

Whatever… I knew one thing for sure. I already missed that black obelisk… no matter how worn-out my fuckholes felt. A shame the prompt pharaoh wasn't gonna be the new team leader. I could have use a repeat railing. His cock had been almost as thick as Colton’s colossus. And with that, my mind drifted to Colt. Nope... not going there. He was a fellow intern... not a fuck buddy... and definitely not a romantic interest.

*to be continued*
*Chapter 04: Ariana turns talent night into a cosplay-themed search for Aetherhead's next top candidates.*