Recommended listening for today is: “Canon x Love SOS (WWW)”, from “Woman Worldwide” by Justice.
Today was nice! They hold an “orientation day” a couple times a year, bring the Chief Executive and all the other big shots in to talk to all the newbies about the company strategy and the wider picture and what have you. It’s… a lot of buzzwords and bullshit, honestly, but despite that it managed to be both interesting and entertaining! The work I do is so narrow, and focused on one specific area, that it’s nice to have people come in and explain what they do, what we do as a whole, etc. My favourite bit, though, was when they got some senior-ish staff from all different departments to come in. We all split off into groups, and they did what they called speed dating – basically they’d each talk to us for about ten minutes on what exactly their team does. Really informative!
And, more than that – it was a really good look into what else I might be able to do here. I like where I’m at now, of course, but it is a fixed-term arrangement. And while I’ve been told that it’s pretty likely there’ll be work for me to slide into at the end of the year, I’ve not really had any idea what I might like to do. Even just a ten minute glance into what other teams do was a great start, and gives me something to bring up to my team leader regarding future plans. Because, truly, I love this place. Everyone is great, it’s a fantastic office – there’s just a really nice culture about it. And I want to stay with that as long as I can.
But, look. You didn’t come here to see me write about my job. And, yeah, fair enough. I didn’t come here to write about my job, either. You came here to see a slut talk about being a slut. So let’s see what we’ve got! ’cause, I love my job, right? But sometimes I do wish I had something a little more… fitting. The “office fuck-hole” position Mistress Charlotte once mentioned to me often plays on my mind. See, we’ve got a meditation room in our office, right? So why not a stress relief room, too? Just keep a toy in there, bound and blindfolded – mouth gagged with an O-ring, ears completely muffled. Total sensory deprivation – he doesn’t need to know what’s going on, what time it is, who’s using him. I’d be PERFECT for it! Don’t you think?
I can just imagine it now – we’re both in the lift heading up to our floor, chatting away about how our respective nights were. The door opens, and you head over to your desk – meanwhile, I head into the little enclosed room, just next to the bathrooms. I put on everything I can myself – saving the blindfold for last, naturally – and then assume the day’s position. Someone comes in before too long to properly bind me in place – and then, it’s just waiting. It doesn’t take long for my first visitor, though. It never does. The first I know of their presence is a sharp slap to my ass, which brings a wordless yelp echoing in the small room. A harsh pinch of my nipples. Long, sharp fingernails raking lightly down my back, as I utterly fail to suppress a shiver. I sense the presence in front of me, before I feel the thick, rubber cock lining up with my gagged-open mouth. Clearly, somebody’s opened the toy cupboard for today…
…it’s dark, now. I mean, it always was behind the blindfold anyway, but now everywhere is. The last one to use me, thankfully, decides to unbind me and let me go for the night. After collecting myself for a while, I open the door. God, what a sight I am. Eyes red, face covered in drool and various other fluids. My jaw aches as I try and remember how to keep it closed. My body’s a mess of impact marks, scratches, bites. The words written all over me are many and varied – all detailing exactly the type of cheap, desperate, fucked-out whore people are dealing with. I look in the mirror, and my suspicions are confirmed – I KNEW those two were using my back to plan a meeting while they spit-roasted me! My nipples jut out proudly from my chest, insanely sensitive after the vibrating clamps were put on just before lunch… and not taken off again for the rest of the day. And, of course, that little fuck-hole saw more than its fair share of use over the day. Battered, used, wrecked, ruined. The words “slut” and “hole” written on each cheek, just in case anybody forgot what I was.
As I leave the building, I glance at a chart on the wall. Productivity metrics are way up since they got that fuck-hole installed! I smile warmly as a feeling of satisfaction radiates through me. All for the greater good.
Thanks for reading!