John's sisters take him shopping for his working-boy clothes

Having two strong offers for a first job was outside of John's expectations. He supposed that it was the sort of thing that his college sister-mates were better prepared to deal with -- creating advantageous options for alliances, and acting on them. Whether in career or even in the household, an ambitious woman might make many choices and many moves before settling.

It even seemed to be in the pulse of society these days. He had seen a magazine cover once, announcing a story: "The Unhouseholders: The Dynamic Women Shaping Our Society". His mother had pooh-poohed it, telling him, "This so-called job market -- it's a mob market, and when things turn bad, who will they rely on? Are we to be a nation of malcontent artists and traveling saleswomen?" Yet his sisters seemed intrigued by the notion that personal talents and finances could be the wings of freedom. Career work had long been something of a refuge for women from the pressures of the household, though a "workaholic" woman might be derided for sexual unsociability or shopping herself to other households. It wasn't a rare thing that an attached woman might charm her way into a more prestigious household. Women in prominent positions were challenged with keeping such advances strictly sexual when approached by a "climber", but the business pages of the newspaper frequently featured consequential domestic sunderings. John had often heard his sisters giggling and speculating over the "Transitions" page, though their mothers would shush them when they started to spin stories about homewreckers.

Indeed, John had his own anxieties in the domestic direction. He had overheard his mother speculating with her junior matrons that John's status as a male prodigy might attract an ambitious, forward-looking young woman to join their household. "Not too progressive, though!" his mother had said with a laugh.

John spent time weighing the offers. Formally, in finance and benefits, they were closely matched -- TCD setting the grade for a junior designer. TCD's offer included Cynthia's handwritten offer to be his mentor. It was a solid offer, the one his mother recommended, and in some ways felt like an acceptance of his course as a male prodigy and a forgiveness for his shameful fall into romance with Gwenn. He remembered the pictures of the TCD board, including the man known for computer network design, with his half-erect penis pictured as respectfully as the vulvas of the rest of the board. His cock twitched and stiffened, wondering if he might ever rate such a picture. And then he laughed, remembering the CI board pictures, all in color, half men, and all with their genitals presented rear-first in the same fuck-me pose. A pose he'd been able to endorse during his comfort mating with Atalanta Laurel. TCD must have toned down that attitude since the acquisition, but from his glance at the afternoon sex break on the design floor, CI still had a wild streak.

John grinned, remembering that his CI interview panel had seemed so cerebral. "Work hard, play hard" seemed to be their style, and with their progressive hiring practices, "play hard" was more satisfying than the usual henhouse. He feared at TCD, he might spend more time as a boytoy than a junior designer. Shades of his "junior stud" time while he prepared for college! But TCD was a respectable, established company, so he'd sure they'd keep things somewhat in bounds.

Well, in either case, it would be the same mother company, and he would likely have the opportunity to work with the staff of both branches if he had the interest.

"JOHN!" his sister Sheba called, "JOHN, WHERE ARE YOU? ARE YOU WANKING OFF AGAIN?"

"No, Sheba! What?" he called back. Sheba knew very well he wanked off at rising and bedtime, not in the middle of the morning.

"WE'RE TAKING YOU SHOPPING!"

"What?" John said.

"JUDITH AND I ARE TAKING YOU SHOPPING!"

Sheba and Judith bustled John off to the high street to help him choose clothing appropriate to his new role as working boy, and to wheedle him for information about which offer he was going to pick.

"So, how'd it go? It must have been pretty good if you got two offers," Sheba pried.

"Pretty good," John said.

"That's what you said on your interview day," Sheba said. "You messed your pants and came home in gym bottoms and still got two offers, so it must have gone better than pretty good."

"Well, it wasn't really me that messed my pants," John objected.

"Oh ho ho," Judith said. "I thought that was girl juice. Are you joining her outfit, then?"

John hung his head, then shook it back and forth. "I don't know, I mean, maybe. There are two offers, and Mum wants me to go with TCD. It's not like I'd be the first man there, there's even one on their board."

"No-ohh," Sheba said, disbelieving.

"Here, look," John said, proffering TCD's annual report. "Him."

"Nice equipment he has," Sheba said.

"Sheba, he's on the board because he made their computer networking design happen," John protested.

"That's what you say," Sheba said. "Not his only talent, I'm sure." She rubbed her finger along the decorous corporate silvertone image of his semi-erect member. "You'll fit right in, stud."

"Arhhh," John groaned.

"Sheba, give him a rest," Judith said. "Hey, who are these? Some cheek, for corporate exec pictures. Half men, too!"

Judith had discovered Cowrie Intuitive's annual report from the year before TCD had taken them over, a row of smiling clever women and men over a row of their naked bums, balls, and cunts.

"Ah, ha ha ha, yeah," Sheba said. "I bet it was her," she said, pointing her finger to the executive profile picture of Atalanta Laurel's juicy vulva, swollen and parted. "I'm right, I'm right!" Sheba said, seeing John's angry blush.

"Sheba, stop it, you know how John is," Judith said. "I think you did just ace. What's her job? Human resources director. I think you nailed it right there."

John murmured, "She already said she thought they'd give me an offer."

Judith patted him on the back. "And so they did. Let's get you some clothes."

Sheba and Judith picked out some kilts and closely trimmed singlesuits, and enlisted the clerks to find matching shoes and accessories. John eventually recovered his equilibrium and was able to veto some of the more daring choices that Sheba and Judith were pushing at him.

Judith and Sheba helped him unpack and hang up his new working boy wardrobe in the tiny closet of his little bedroom at home. It had been a hard-won concession to his studies to have his own room, and John treasured it.

"Looking good, John," Judith said, as she helped put away his new things. "So, John, which are you going to choose?" Judith asked. "Big Pink? Or Cheeky Impertinent?"

Sheba laughed. "And what are you going to tell Mother?" she said.