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The art of making money from get rich schemes.
"No, not like that. Bend over your desk."
It took a moment, but she realized what he meant. "No! Absolutely not. I'm not a whore, Watkins." She caught her tone, then softened it. "Come on, baby, let me finish sucking you off. You liked it when I did that, didn't you? Let me finish."
She knelt down again, but he stopped her with a slap to each cheek with his cock. "It was a nice gesture, but you had your chance to blow me right, and you blew it - pun intended. Now I want more. Get up on that desk."
"No. My pussy is NOT negotiable. If that's what you want, then you need to leave."
He shrugged, and his apathy was the most maddening part of it all. How could he not want her to finish him off? She was so fucking hot!
Then he opened the office door, where Jenny got a nice long look at her boss kneeling in sexy lingerie. Watkins zipped up his fly as he strode out. Erika rushed over to the door to close it - treating another handful of her co-workers to the sight of her mostly naked body in the process.
Erika Hilliard, attorney at law, endured the snide comments, thinly veiled innuendos, and outright accusations of sluthood with all the dignity she could muster. Enduring was the only option, because every time she tried to improve things, it only made them worse.
"Hey, Barbara, I just wanted to say how impressed I was with your work on the Stevens case."
"Don't hate because you couldn't do it yourself."
Or "I really like that tie, Bill. Is it new?"
"Look, I'm not going to do your job for you because you flirt with me. Unless you're just looking for a quick lay, in which case..."
Then there was "Thanks for getting everyone lunch, Greg. And... I just want to say I'm sorry I haven't been more appreciative in the past. I'm going to do better."
"That's nice. I didn't actually get any for you, though. Just enough for me, Donna, Fredricks, Mitch, Vertucci, Hank - you know Hank, the security guard, right? - the accounting team, Kenneth..."
She made it a point to dress more conservatively the next few days, though this only seemed to fan the flames of the rumors, make it look like she had something to hide. Since she'd been caught blowing (or in some rumors, fucking) Watkins, everyone knew it wasn't an affair; whatever they now thought of Erika, they didn't think she was attracted to that fat-ass.
So instead, the rumors became that she was granting him sexual favors in exchange for work, which in turn only made everyone analyze all the other favors they'd done for her as having sold themselves short. Some of the guys even made up stories about how they'd gotten her to put out for this or that. While crying in a restroom stall, Erika overheard a few gals talking about how they'd heard Erika took it up the ass from all three partners to land her job.
She even got accidentally copied on an email that made it clear that there was an office pool growing to see who could guess how many men in the office she'd fucked. She didn't point out the error; the newly out of favor lawyer just watched the guesses stream in. Fifteen was the high; six was the median.
It was the meeting with Kenneth, in which he told her he had been hearing disconcerting rumors about her sexual conduct around the office and that she was "on thin ice" that she broke down and sought out Watkins again.
She tried not to think of it as prostitution. And if it was, it was to keep a six-figure salary with a Cadillac benefits package, which was one hell of a slut fee. This time she went to his office, no longer trusting Jenny not to spread rumors the second she got a chance. (Watkins didn't have a secretary; when the resources had come up to hire one early this year, she'd conned him into letting her get the help.)
When he heard the door close behind him, she was treated to a look of genuine amazement when he turned to see her wearing her tiniest miniskirt and a blouse sheer enough to notify him that she was braless. He wanted her to be a slut, so she'd dressed the part.
"Well look at you,