Christine Fokketall's new workplace agreement

Christine Fokketall did not know what was going on, not at first.

As a strong independent woman, she surely should have reprimanded her all-male subordinates when they made their obscene request to relieve their work stress with her body. “Why should we hire a whore when we have you?” they virtually suggested. It was clear cut sexual harassment!

Instead, the only complaint she made was about her soreness the next day.

Shocked at herself, she’d consented to serve her subordinates sexual needs without hesitation or complaint. She immediately agreed to stripping off and start giving blowjobs to one and all, then let them take her however they wanted well into the night. They wanted to do a lot! Somehow, she managed it.

She had no idea what made her so agreeable, to the point of begged them to cum inside her bare pussy, just because one of them remarked how hot it’d be.

But any hope that they’d “respect her in the morning” and pretend it never happened, was crushed when she proved herself agreeable to further degradation. They hadn’t even needed to **** her with snapshots and vids of the previous encounter, as she’d half suspected. They just asked and she agreed to become the office’s “full-time, free-use fuck-doll”.

She had barely objected to that phrase, only to swiftly agree that it wasn’t sexual harassment when sex was now her work.

She was supposed to be their superior, but they immediately stopped taking her seriously and instructed her on her new job description. After she’d started acting as a walking sex doll, all her degrees meant nothing to them. No matter how smart or capable she was, sex immediately became all they expected from her.

She realised quite early that quitting was not an option, since she knew they wanted to keep her in her place. And so, like everything else, she agreed to stay at the office, even though how they had her earn her pay had changed.

Inwardly she seethed about how she just let them continue to fuck her brains out her daily. But she did it just the same. “Yes, I’m a slut,” she agreed more than once, and almost started to believe it must be true.

They made her start dressing sexily going to and from work. Yet, as the only female at the office, her new “dress code” soon became lingerie, fetish gear, or nothing at all. Well, except for the locked-on collar on which her newly printed employee id hung like a dog tag.

No, not ‘made’, rather they had ‘asked’, but she’d simply complied as though tossing out her business suits to dress as their eye-candy was the best idea ever.

Of course, they did not require her to perform her management duties, except to rubber stamp reports, or occasionally answer calls to pretend all was business as usual. Really, she only went to work to look pretty for them, to make their cocks hard, and then to release the “pent up stress” this caused.

Her desk was removed from her office, and a blowup bed installed, along with her new “work supplies” purchased at her own expense, in person, at a local sex shop.

Being asked to call in a handyman to install a new nameplate reading ‘Krissi Fuckdoll (Office Whore)’, and agreeing to do it [“… with little hearts dotting the ‘eyes’, please.”], was just par for the course at that point.

They had allowed her to dress barely professional and presentable when he arrived, and so she tried to pass it off as an office prank in a vain effort to keep some semblance of dignity. That lasted right up till someone suggested she tip the poor guy with a blowjob. So she smiled agreeably, stripped down to her bra and panties, and show-cased her qualifications for the sign’s stated position. “Don’t tell anyone,” she whispered, “but yeah, I’m their horny little cum-dump.” Damn it.

After that, she agreed that her ‘work’ should spread beyond her immediate subordinates. That began with the janitor getting a chance to enjoy her tight pussy, and a promise to start ‘working late at the office’ and help the old man ‘clean up’ from time to time. When she was not going home on a ‘date’ with a coworker, that was. Soon ‘business dates’ with select clients were added to her busy schedule. Good thing she agreed to let her social life die on the vine.

And yet, despite the distraction of having her pussy constantly available, and rumours that inevitably spread about her slutty antics, there was no complaint from the head office about their profits falling off. Quite the contrary. Her coworkers had bragging that using her to ‘improve office moral and productivity’ was worth more to the company than her management skills had ever been.

To which the raise she received seemed to mockingly praise her new job performance.

“I don’t know how you kept anyone from realising you were a nympho for so long,” Roger gloat-sneered, after the end-of-meeting-gangbang when it was announced, “but coming to work is so much better now that you are constantly begging to be fucked, instead of trying to boss everyone around.”

“Thank you, Sir. It’s very demanding work, but I’ve never felt more fulfilled,” Krissi cheered, from where she lay on the meeting table, evidently well and truly filled with cum. “Still, we all know that I only agreed to become the office whore due to that device.”