He smiled again at the girl in front of him.
"You want to what?" she said, disbelievingly
"If you get the job you have to be willing to fuck me whenever I want"
"You can't do that, it's illegal. It's against the sex discrimination act"
"Actually it's not, I'm an equal opportunities fucker. If you were a boy, a good looking boy, I'd be saying the same thing"
It began in the year 2017, this was the year life became seriously hard for all school leavers. It had seemed difficult to get on the job ladder before; now it was bloody impossible. When the universities started going bust you would have thought the government would have stepped in, but being all Oxford or Cambridge wankers they didn't really see it as a problem when Middlesborough Technical University or Swindon Hall Place or ... well when all the smaller, less financially secure places found the numbers finally didn't add up. The number of university places dropped massively and the number of 18 year old school leavers started to rocket. They couldn't claim unemployment until they had been employed for 3 years, they couldn't be employed because manufacturing and pretty well every other industry in the UK was shrinking. And the people in jobs couldn't leave until they were 70 because the pensions were crap (and many stayed on even then).
It had become an employers' market. And Dave was exploiting that with a vengeance.
"Do the other girls, umm do they, umm..." she tailed off
"All the girls I employ have the same conditions, good fuckers get a bonus" He added as an inducement. She was right of course, it was illegal. His 'equal opportunities' bullshit was just that. There was no way he'd employ a handsome boy (even if he did get to fuck him rigid), the boy might take some of his harem after all. That's how he saw it, the dominant male has come back into fashion, the female has to take what she gets; and what she gets was his wet, sticky, cum in every orifice he could find.
"Can I think about it?" She was hesitating, but her outrage was clearly now fighting a rearguard action against her pragmatism. She needed a job. Her parents had said 'get a job or get out'. To which she'd thought 'well, if I could get a job I'd be able to afford to get out'.
"Please yourself, the job may be taken by tomorrow, there are plenty of other pretty girls I could employ"
That's how she came to be working for Dave McD. in his office supplies distribution company. It wasn't a difficult job, she had to admit. He'd taken on more staff than he needed; all young, pretty, sexy and, she learnt from his occasional locked office door, available to service him whenever he felt like it. She couldn't even blame him entirely. He was exploiting the market, the girls were reasonably content, got paid and achieved some level of independence. He even provided good references when a girl wanted to move on. After all that left him able to introduce regular variety into the mix.
The first time he'd called her in and asked, no told, her to suck him off she hadn't been keen. She had never had oral sex before, never tasted a man's spunk. Her old boyfriend had tried to get her to do it, even using emotional blackmail when he joined the army and was about to be shipped out to Iraq for the interminable war there; but even then she had refused. Now she was obliged by her employment contract (yes, it was actually written in to the contract "will supply sexual services to the M.D. of such variety as will be deemed appropriate by him or her at the time". She couldn't imagine Dave selling out to a woman and that woman finding she'd the right to be eaten out by an office load of nymphettes, but it was an interesting fantasy) to suck off Dave's cock. She looked at it, already out of the trousers and waiting, erect, for her mouth.
"Relax" he said "take it in slowly until you are used to it. You don't have to swallow the first time"
She locked the door, that was something of a tradition. Not so much to stop people coming in unannounced in the middle of an almighty fuckfest, more as a signal that Dave was getting his end away with some girl, hold any calls. Since they all did it, it wasn't as if it was a secret.
She walked slowly over to him "umm what do I do? Do I get undressed or... ?"
"No, nice idea, but we don't have time. I have to meet End, Away and Johnson in half an hour. So a quickie is what I need to relax" End, Away and Johnson were a big deal, get their contract and they'd need to employ at least two more girls; it would mean a more secure company too with their money coming in. "Just get down on your knees and take my cock in your hands, yes, that's right, now wrap your hand round it and rub – slowly! You aren't playing a fuckin' trombone. You really are new to this aren't you?"
"I went to an all-girls school, have only sisters and my boyfriend went off to Iraq two years ago and got his head blown off"
"I'm sorry – for all three, though maybe one day I could employ your sisters, how old are they? No, never mind, let's stick to the job in your hand. Yes, that's nicer now, bit more pressure. Now bring your mouth down onto the top. Oh yes, kiss it, open your mouth and let it in a bit, taste the drops on the end. Nice eh? I said NICE EH?"
"Mmm, yes, oh you are hot Dave" She'd been warned that he liked to think the girls enjoyed the experience too. In fairness he wasn't a monster wanting to shag them legless. Mary had told them about the family doctor they had who had insisted on an internal exam even for a cold. He had raped her a couple of times before she sliced open one of his balls. He got the message that no meant no after that. Here though there was only 'yes', 'no' didn't get employed. But he didn't hurt, much, usually. He enjoyed seeing the girls come too. Which meant he enjoyed seeing a girl ride him and fuck herself at the same time and come, preferably as he did. He liked girls to enjoy sex; as long as he enjoyed it too.
"Now take me in deeper, use your tongue girl, rub up and down the shaft and let your lips and tongue take the glans "she looked up with a question "Don't stop! I mean the end, the tip, curl your tongue round, oh yes!"
He was in a hurry, he had to get ready soon, so he let himself go. Tempting as it was to push into her mouth and make her take it in, he had promised she didn't have to swallow first time. When he started pumping out the gloopy white cum she was surprised how much there was, surprised at the taste (it tastes of chicken she thought, every bloody thing tastes of chicken, no, wait, it tastes of cum) and surprised that it was like trying to swallow frog spawn. She didn't have to swallow, she remembered and looked round. The spunk was spat into the Swiss Cheese plant flowerpot.
"That plant gets a lot of my spunk. Go and get cleaned up; you can come with me"
So even this could be worse. She got to go with him to meet the customer. For a brief, horrific, second she wondered if he offered his girls as inducements for contracts; but like he himself said, he was a bastard, not a monster. So Karen went with him and Melissa to meet one of the partners and listened to Dave's presentation – it was good and relaxed and confident – and poured coffee and made notes. And generally the whole thing was quite interesting. And when Mr. Michael Travers said that they had the deal they left elated and Dave was clearly in a mood for a threesome. When they got back it was after 7pm, the office was empty and she got to watch as he bent Melissa over his desk and fucked her, then he turned and invited her to come over she thought he was going to pinion her too. "Suck her off, she deserves it after that. You weren't really ready were you dear? I really needed that release" She found herself being made to bend over and lick out Melissa's wet, sticky groin. The taste was not one to enjoy, but then she found she had other things to think about as a hand pulled down her panties and began to fondle her naked bottom. "Why have you stopped? I want Melissa to be clean as a whistle and happy with it" She got back to the job and tried to ignore the fingers that were beginning to open her cunt and her arse. She'd been told that he sometimes liked to take the alternative route; but this time he was just enjoying the view. When Melissa came she groaned sweetly. She later admitted she never liked reaching orgasm with him watching, it felt worse than having him hump her like a piece of meat. Cumming to order felt like he owned every part of you.
"Sorry, I don't know what to say" said Karen
"Oh, s'okay, it isn't your fault. One day the recession will be over and I'll take pleasure in kicking his balls up out through his throat ... but until then..." There was a lot of talk like that, the expectation that things would get better again. No-one really believed it. The world had become a worse place and you did what you had to do to survive.
On the streets Karen saw plenty of girls who didn't have the thin covering of respectability of a job for their survival. They were blatantly offering anything and everything for some money. These girls wouldn't last long before they got a sexual disease and would be shipped off to a rehabilitation centre – most of which cured the girls and then kept them incarcerated for a period for the pleasure of the staff. It wasn't a good time to be young and attractive. It was a worse time to be young and unattractive. Karen was attractive and realised she was lucky. She only had to fuck one man, he cleaned his teeth, he cut his nails and he didn't look like an ugly fuck monster. So there were reasons to be cheerful, even now.
Dave enjoyed his life, who wouldn't? He would arrive on a Monday morning and have a morning blow job with his latte, lunch could be a full session of hiding the sausage, and just before going home he might get a girl in for good old-fashioned snog and arse fondle. He rarely found the need to jack-off at night. Each day could be a bit different. If he shagged a blond on Tuesday over his desk, he might get the redhead in on Wednesday and get her to lie along the desk with her legs in the air (and for some reason red pubic hair just turned on him to the max), then Thursday he might treat himself to a show and get Milly and Molly (real names Millicent and Melinda – but Molly tripped off the tongue better) to do a 69 on his deep pile carpet. If it had been a good week he could even find time to get a bit of arse action as a treat on a Friday. The girls – there being so many of them – were not overly worn out and rapidly accepted it as part of the job; and since he did enjoy hearing a girl orgasm (and tasting a girl's cum), he wasn't too selfish in his lovemaking. It was pretty clear in discussions with others that plenty of middle-aged (and older and younger) males were taking advantage of their employment powers to get more sex than they had had in the historic more feminist times. A lot of them were far worse. The corner shop near where Karen lived for example. The Asian guy who ran it was often to be seen coming out of the store room doing up his trousers, and he only employed one female assistant. She looked tired most of the time.
Big companies started getting in on the act. There was the bus company that started advertising that they were the "Bust company" with a picture of a very busty driver, and an offer that customers could forgo their change in exchange for a tit fondle as they got on. The extra profit went to the company of course, not the woman. The big supermarket chain who shortened their female staff uniforms until they were (or would have been in the late 20th C) indecently short. Stretching up to stock the top shelves meant that young and old showed a lot more thigh to customers than might be expected – and male shoppers increased as a result. Then it became company policy to bend at the waist to load the bottom shelves, rather than bending the knees. Slaps on the rump became expected as part of the job, a finger between the legs then became accepted, and finally some judicious shelf re-alignment allowed for a bit of privacy for lucky customers who won one of the 5 minute finger-fuck sessions (actually described as customer-staff liaison sessions). WaistCo always maintained they would never require their staff to have full sex with customers, they had standards after all.
Karen's Dad was initially shocked when his wife (who worked for WaistCo) told him what was happening; however when he saw the 20 year old in the shop stretching up to stock the top shelf and showing off her tight and ill-covered bum (girls who wore revealing panties got bonuses), and when he won a session with a 16 year old Saturday girl, and when his wife became far more accepting generally of anything he fancied trying, well he just felt that you had to accept the way the world was going. He never learned the full extent of what his daughter was doing to keep her job, and if he had he would probably have been told to mind his own business anyway; Karen was not complaining any more as she swallowed instead of poisoning the Swiss Cheese plant.
Factory girls probably had a harder time. In the few factories left there were more men than women and the men found they were missing out on what was happening elsewhere. The male dominated unions soon argued for and (to their surprise received) sexual harassment rights for their members. The IGL union (International Gas Lamp fitters – they had expanded from their original user base) negotiated the milestone agreement with Prestwick and Northern in which the number of female canteen workers would be increased by 50% to allow for 5 women to be available each break time to provide hand relief to anybody who wanted it. Tracey Prickstaff, who had lovely hands and even lovelier tits, set a company record by relieving 94 men in one lunchtime session. 32 of them were doubles (one in each hand). Tracey got her picture on the company internal website for that contribution to production.
The time came of course when Karen was expected to lose her panties, bend over and take Dave's cock up her arse. She knew the day would come, she had practiced stretching her anus in the bath so it wouldn't hurt too much. She'd been surprised (and embarrassed, even though she was alone) when her delving fingers caused a poo to pop out into the bath water, then she found herself fascinated and delving for more. She told herself she was cleaning her innards out, probably she was really exploring cultural taboos that she hadn't expected. When his greased up fingers opened her up therefore she was able to let her sphincter relax quite quickly. Dave was a little disappointed in that, he liked the tightness, the forcing in of first one finger, then a second; the little gasps from a young girl not used to having rough hands opening up her arsehole. Karen was ahead of the game though, when he pushed in the erect penis, she gripped with a vengeance. That was what he wanted, oh yes, that was good. The phone rang and she answered it while he carried on ramming her tight little arse. "Yes ... oh, no, I'm, afraid he's busy at the moment, tied up with an important meeting. He should be finished soon ... yes I think I can hear him winding up. I'll get him to ring you." He came quickly and easily and she pulled up her pants and went back to work. Just another routine job done. If you'd said she was a prostitute she would have hit you, she wasn't giving sex for money, she was giving sex for free, she was working in an office for money where you were expected to give sex for free. At least was how she rationalised it.
When the Prime Minister was revealed to have had sex with a researcher on the cabinet office table; no-one turned a hair. When the young prince was found in Kensington Gardens fucking a female guardswoman, even the Mail said "good on you your Highness" – the Sun said "Royal end is given personal guard". Even the Archbishop and the female organist caused barely a ripple. The world had certainly changed.