Linda, Harem Branch Manager - QnA - Part 3

Muffin returned from her little errand, and took her place at my feet. I stroked her head gently. She was such a tease, getting poor Rebecca's hopes up like that. I liked that about her: She didn't let her status as a fuckpet keep her from enjoying herself in other ways.

The candidate came in after her.

She was every bit as beautiful as her portfolio suggested, and better dressed than most of the recent candidates. This job had spoiled me on the charms of the feminine form (and I considered myself a very lucky for it), but this Cassandra was a spectacle. I met her piercing gaze, and shamelessly examined her from top to bottom, appreciating her curves.

The bulge in her skirt caught my eye. I coughed.

We hadn't even considered inviting futa candidates to join the harem before this year. Which suited me fine. But a chance encounter at a certain A-list futa actress' new years' party (described in the internal report as 'fruitless and humiliating',) had left our mistress with an unslaked thirst for girlcock, and the Harem Governing Board had responded with an updated policy before the fifth of January. Now it was July, and Cassandra was the first futa applicant to meet screening standards.

"Please... take a seat." I gestured to the chair at the other side of my desk, and shuffled through my stack for the candidate's paperwork.

The rest of the branch house resembled a high-end hotel or penthouse, except for its sprawling size, occupying the top six floors of one of the city's tallest buildings. My office, while comfortable, was much less lushly appointed: A practical place of business. As branch manager, I was still a member of Mistress' harem, of course, but my responsibilities kept me somewhat at a distance from the day-to-day revelries. I was in charge, respected, and paid handsomely for it, but at the end of the day I was a functionary. Not a bad lot, but a far cry from the life of leisure and hedonism the harem's regular members enjoyed. Such a life ill suited a woman of my talents, anyway. I was bound for the Board, eventually.

"You must be Mrs. Macallan, the manager, right?"

"Yes, but please, call me Linda. In this line of work we ought to be on friendly terms. You've already met Muffin," I gave my favorite pet a gentle pat on the head, "and our silent partner, Rebecca, of course." I suppressed a chuckle.

The candidate grinned. She seemed to be... weighing something? I considered myself an excellent judge of character, and most girls who tried out to join the harem were easy to crack: most were either indolent would-be sugar-babies, burnt-out former overachievers, or simply incorrigible sluts. All three groups were welcome, and well-represented on our roster. But Cassandra seemed to have something going on that I hadn't figured out. The word 'mysterious' bubbled to the surface of my mind, unwanted. Whatever thought was distracting her disappeared from her face. She met my gaze, and smiled warmly.

"Linda, then. Nice to meet you."

I reminded myself I wasn't interested in girlcock.

I coughed. "Right. Now, I usually begin by mentioning our Free Use policy, which covers myself, as well as the rest of the harem, and, of course, yourself, should you move forward with this appointment. Our mistress has very few absolute rules for her companions, but this is one. We are available, to each other as well as to her, at all times."

I raised an eyebrow. The few who had second thoughts made them known, at this point, and left when I confirmed that the policy was nonnegotiable. Those that stuck it out usually didn't regret it.

"Mhmm. I have a feeling that won't be a problem." She was staring at me hungrily. I was used to having that effect on people, of course, but...

I coughed. "Well. I also bring it up because many candidates ask, at this point. Ask me, I mean." I glanced at the wide, deep sofa against the back wall of my office. "In your case... well, I understand Rebecca demonstrated the policy to your satisfaction."

To my no doubt temporary relief, the candidate nodded, giggling a little. "Oh yes. To my satisfaction. For now." I took a breath.

Muffin was looking up at me with a knowing expression.

I cleared my throat. "Very well. We'll start by discussing your background and qualifications. Do you have any questions before we begin?"

Something about that statement clearly struck her as funny. I couldn't imagine why. The same mysterious, distant look returned to her face, for a moment.

". . . Yeah, I've got a question. What's with the cough?"

Oh. Bother.

With anyone else, I would have deflected, or simply lied. With Cassandra, though, I could only answer the question, frankly and accurately. Not that I minded that part, but the circumstances in this case were... inconvenient.

"Well. It's a nervous tic."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Am I making you nervous?"

I realized that I was losing the upper hand in this discussion.

"You are. Somewhat. ahem." I coughed, again, now painfully aware of it. I took a breath, and maintained my composure.

She was leaning back in the chair now, grinning playfully. "Why?"

"The idea of having you join the harem makes me nervous." There was no reason to tell her more than what she'd asked, of course.

"Can you tell me more about that?"

I took a breath, and answered politely. "I can."

She sighed. She was looking with surprising interest at her manicured fingernails. I didn't mind the questions, although my answers had proven troublesome. Her attitude, on the other hand, was proving to be... unbecoming.

She looked back at me after a moment, once it was clear I had no more to say. Her head was tilted sideways as she slouched in the chair, and a lock of her recently-disheveled black hair fell across her forehead. "And... hm. Okay. What would you say, if you wanted me to understand your nervousness?"

Well. This was inconvenient.

I took a deep breath. I had to think about that for a second, imagining a version of myself who could honestly explain the feelings that were troubling me. Under different circumstances, the exercise might have been therapeutic.

"Well. I would begin by saying that these feelings are my own, and do not reflect any official position or policy of the Molly Palmer International Harem And Recreation Group. We are an equal opportunity employer."

I cringed inwardly even as the words left my mouth. That was true only in the most technical sense, riddled with loopholes and double-speak. But it is certainly what I would have said. So I said it.

"I would go on to say that I joined this harem, and committed to its internal Free-Use policy, long before we'd even dreamed of considering futa applicants. Maybe you can understand, I'm not sure I'd be comfortable being available to you."

I took a breath. She stared at me with that same inscrutable smile. I thought for a moment, and then went on.

"I would also tell you that my feelings are conflicted, because you are, frankly, gorgeous. If it weren't for your cock, I'd invite you into my bed in a heartbeat. I'm weighing whether to discard your application the moment this interview is over, or to ask you to fuck me now, just to find out."

The version of me I'd been asked to imagine would have stopped there, so I stopped there. I took a breath, never breaking from my practiced, professional composure and businesslike smile. It was, frankly, a relief to put it into words, not that I would ever admit that. "Is there anything else, or can we begin now?"

Cassandra looked up from her hands, which she'd been studying as if she'd never seen them before.

"Wow," she said, finally. "that was informative. I'm gonna have to keep that trick in mind." She was still looking at her hands. "Change."

"Oh, it's nothing you need to worry about, it's just, you have an uncanny resemblance to my ex wife." She chuckled a little at that, of course. And of course it reminded me of how Sandra used to laugh. Not that Sandra had those curves, or that... cock.

I coughed.

"Change."

"Well, I admit this is a little unprofessional," Cassandra raised an eyebrow at that statement, "But I might tell you that I have a certain posture to maintain in this organization. Your imposing presence, not to mention your prodigious.... qualifications, threaten that posture." I'm worried they'll pick you over me, was what I felt, but I had to dress it up a little. I had to keep some pride.

Muffin was stifling a giggle.

"That's cute. Change."

I cleared my throat. "There's no delicate way to put this, so I guess I'd just have to say it." I took a breath. "Well. It just looks so big! I'm worried it'll be too much for me." I paused. she was smiling again. "If you must know."

"Attagirl, that's the one."

Seriously? Her attitude was beginning to stretch my patience. She hadn't struck out yet; acting like that, she'd get along wonderfully with about half of the girls, and the Mistress loved a brat, and being a brat, and this one would play into either side well.

In terms of her chances with the harem... I had to admit it was helping more than hurting. But it was getting on my nerves.

"Okay. Now that we've covered that, we should-" "Hey, here's a question."

I stifled my rage at being interrupted. Of course Cassandra could ask a question. I nodded, and listened patiently.

"You just told me you were nervous about fucking me - and I am going to fuck you - because my cock might be too big for your delicate little lesbian pussy. And some other stuff you don't remember. All very personal, I assure you. You didn't even break eye contact! Honestly, I'm amazed. How do you stay so composed?"

I smirked a little. This wasn't the first time I'd been asked that question, although not in quite the same context. I gave my usual answer. "Twelve years in business, six in education. And six years, now, managing forty spoiled layabouts for our mistress' comfort and pleasure. The whole time looking like this." I indicated my own body, my wide hips and breasts filling out my skirt and turtleneck sweater perfectly, my auburn hair in a tight bun, the infamous beauty of my youth only enhanced by age and experience. "I've learned to conduct myself professionally under much harsher circumstances than this, young lady."

Usually, that was enough. But Cassandra just laughed. "You're really incredible. Miss librarian over here. That's actually hot as hell. But lets see where else this can go. Change."

"Honestly, babe? I don't give a shit." And why would I? This job was cake. Sure, the corporate climbers were working their cunts off keeping their branches 'inspection ready'. That was all for show. For the board. All Miss Molly cared about was having a place to party and get a good fucking, and a few escorts on call for trips. The Board just liked to make things complicated to justify their jobs.

My girls were basically a gaggle of NEETs, gaming between fucks or fucking between games, and that was exactly what they were supposed to be. I worked maybe four hours a week doing procurements and payroll and running the nightly catering vote. And a little more at end of fiscal blowing the last of the budget, but that was hardly work. The rest of the time I was collecting a paycheck and fucking around like the rest of the girls. Turns out when you have this many well-paid sluts with no obligations, the parties plan themselves.

"I don't care what you know about me. Sure, your cock makes me nervous. So did my first clit piercing. I'm only not fucking you already cause you're still spent from Becca."

Cassie seemed to like that. "Ooooh. You're fun." She licked her lips. Fuck she was hot. "But you know, I don't usually like to stop on the first Change."

"Simple." My smile widened, knowing the one way this conversation was likely to go. "I know your secret, Carl."

This had the intended effect. She startled beautifully.

I remembered watching his conversation with poor Rebecca on the CCTV. Some parts were... fuzzy. But the way she changed, sometimes the whole office... building? branch? changed, when he said that word, and how Rebecca didn't suspect a thing, as if she'd always been that way.. It was amazing. Like nothing I'd ever seen. To think she'd been the branch's middle-aged receptionist just minutes ago... or was she a 7,000 year old vampire, or the mistress to dozens of fuckpets... But how was I watching the CCTV, if I was her fuckpet, resting in a cage with my sisters? Did we... sell glassware, at one point? it was hard to remember. I couldn't blame him - or her, now?

I might have done the same, given the chance.

I knew, distantly, that I should be afraid of the person sitting across my desk now. I could remember she'd said the word a few times to me already, but what had changed eluded me. I could even guess that this knowledge was probably a momentary state, here and gone with my answer to the latest question. I considered trying to stop it. But I was curious.

Jessica (Muffin, now? Really??) was looking silently between the two of us, confused by the sudden change of tone. Still naked at my feet. I didn't mind that part.

I looked at my interlocutor expectantly, with a warm, genuine smile. "Well? Say it! I wonder what I'll be next."

Cassandra was shocked. But she did as I expected. "Fuck! Should have stuck with the punk. Change!"

"I know, right!? I'm sooo good at that. Everyone says I'm too dumb to know when I should be worried!"

I could never figure out why people said this job was hard. All I had to do was look pretty and get fucked! Being in charge was easy. Muffy sat at my feet, taking notes as always. She was always helping me remember things, and telling me the best decisions. That's why she was my favorite!

Cassie looked... anxious? was that the word? It made me sad. I wished she'd just fuck me already. Then she said something else I didn't understand, which wasn't new. Muffy would figure it out for me.

"That's... better? Better. Fuck, those always get me. Almost wish I'd kept that one for a minute, she seemed less mad than last time. Might have been fun."

She sighed. I watched her boobies under her shirt for a little bit, while she breathed. I lost track of time. Finally, she looked at me again. I rubbed myself a little. "As for you... too easy. Let's keep going. Change."

"My emotional responses are simulated. I can dismiss them when convenient".

Having satisfied the query, I awaited the next response. I set a task to count the appropriate number of seconds before continuing the conversation.

Three. 'Changing the subject' was a maneuver I judged to be complicated. I would do so cautiously. The candidate was examining my chassis with an expression I judged to be: [Curiosity]. I evaluated what might have caused this reaction. I set a task to check my surfaces for blemishing. I set a task to check my stock of aluminum polish. I set a task to raise an eyebrow to indicate anticipation. The last time I raised an eyebrow, I chose the [Right] side. This time I chose the [Left] eyebrow, to balance wear on my motor fibers.

Two. I raised an eyebrow to indicate anticipation. I resolved a task to raise an eyebrow to indicate anticipation. The candidate made a whistling sound I recognized as: [Admiration], when directed at equipment such as myself and certain automobiles. In anticipation of sexual activity, I set a task to lubricate my orifices. This had proven necessary in [two out of every three] cases when I had been admired in the past.

One. The candidate began speaking. I resolved the timer early, with 0.32 seconds remaining.

"Oooooh. Shiny." The candidate reached across the desk to feel my face. I recorded a [Derogatory] mark on her evaluation. I set a task to limit motor functions for pinch-point safety. Her fingers left a residue on my surface. I declined to set a task to analyze the residue.

She said, "Not much for conversation though." My emotion subroutine prepared to simulate: [Indignation]. I dismissed the response. "Change."

I dropped the act.

No point keeping it up if I had to tell her anyway. I slumped back in my chair in relief. "You really think so?" That was a huge relief! "Fact is, I'm playing it by ear. Under the surface I'm an actual wreck. Getting better at it though, right? or-" I returned to my 'stone-faced disciplinarian' persona. "Wouldn't you agree, Young Lady?"

The thin, knowing smile. The subtle shift of the brow. The intonation that suggested the very edge of a repressed, ambiguous, distinguished foreign accent. All the fucking vocabulary! I was so fucking glad to be getting the hang of it. Those first few weeks were rough. These girls walk all over you if you're not careful. Lucky me, I turned out to be a pretty good con. Amazing what you can get away with if you lean into the shtick.

I'd answered her question, of course. I wished I could've done it less frankly. Sure, it felt good to admit it was all an act, but now I'd blown my first impression with a chick who was, frankly, one-hundred percent getting an offer. If I couldn't get the upper hand again, she'd be a pain in my ass forever. The annoying little harem slut in my brain was asking, would that really be so bad?

I tried to ignore it. Things used to be so much easier.

It'd been a year now. The old boss got on Mistress' bad side, and Molly picked the most professional-looking harem slut in immediate view to kick upstairs to replace her. Of course my dumb ass happened to be trying on suits for the anniversary party. Lucky me.

I remembered my present situation. Job interview. Stern. Imperious. Particular. I straightened my shoulders. I stroked Muffin's hair. She always helped calm me down. I could confide in her, and I knew she'd never betray me. I tried not to think about Cassandra's bulge. "You understand, of course, that changes nothing. Unlike the rest of the building, this office is a place of business." I hoped, desperately, that it came off as serious. After all, I knew what went on between Muffin and I in here sometimes.

The futa candidate with the huge cock was... not buying it. Fuck. I took a deep breath and tried not to think about what that thing would feel like inside me. Eye contact, Lindsey! Eyes! Not the cock! Not the tits!

She laughed. Fuck. I'd really lost control here. "Wow, You seem fun. I think I'll keep you. And you're so much younger! What are you, twenty five?"

"Twenty Six." I suppressed a groan. My heart was pounding. That little voice in my brain, the girl I didn't get to be anymore, was squealing at the words 'I think I'll keep you'. My illusion was broken and there was no way to get it back. Still, I had to try. 'Authority' didn't really mean much to the rest of the harem without discipline to back it up- I'd learned that quickly enough. But come on! this was a job interview! Appearances aside, she was trying to get hired, right?

I straightened my shoulders and cleared my throat. I gulped silently, and hoped she didn't notice. Maybe I could drop the librarian shtick, and give her the 'frank, one-on-one, come-to-Jesus moment." It'd worked a few times before. About as much as it hadn't. I put on my 'open and honest' face.

"Honestly, though, I need you to meet me halfway here. That attitude actually is going to win you points with some of the girls. Frankly, you could do well here. Mistress Molly is going to love you." Cassandra giggled at that idea. "But that's if you don't piss me off enough to kick you out anyway. So I'm going to ask you to remember who is running this interview, and what you want to get from it. Can we move on now?"

I was sweating under my turtleneck. I thought I gave a hell of a performance. I tilted my head expectantly, just like I'd practiced after the last time I fumbled this play. Her eyes went wide like it was Christmas day and I'd just handed her a new toy. So much for that. I think I actually blushed.

She was smiling ear-to-ear. "Hey, there's an idea!"

Holy shit her voice was perfect. I was barely holding it together. "Excuse me?"

"Who is running this interview?"

Ah. I just reminded her of another question she wanted to ask. Okay then. Maybe I could still salvage this. She was even making eye contact, for once. Jesus Christ, those deep brown eyes.

"I- ahem. I am."

"Barely."

Okay, Rude.

"Change."

I took a breath. "The whole branch will be interviewing you jointly. " I looked around the auditorium, meeting the gaze of every single member of the branch. "I expect you've all reviewed the candidate's materials?"

This was met with a chorus of shrugs, sheepish looks, and a few giggles. Of course. Nobody does the reading.

I really, genuinely hoped I could keep it together. If I lost my composure here, in front of everyone, It would be weeks before I could get them all in line again. The fact that Mistress had put me in charge personally had given me a little bit of slack with the Board, but I was all out of runway by now. They'd made that point crystal clear after the Spring Break fiasco.

Cassandra was sitting in the lone chair in the center of the stage, facing the crowd. I was standing, front and center, at a lectern facing her. I flipped through the note cards with questions submitted by the branch members.

"Top three anime? Subs or Dubs?"

"bodycount?"

"Two truths and a lie?"

"T or A?"

"How big is it?"

One of them actually just wrote "Ask whatever the last question was again, but with 'in bed' at the end".

I thought having the girls prepare questions in advance was going help this go smoothly, but I guess I shouldn't have bothered. These full-group interviews were as much an icebreaker as an evaluation, so maybe it was good they were taking it that way. Maybe.

Cassandra stood up from her chair and waved. "Oh my god, look at all of you!" About half of the girls waved back, or clapped. The social butterflies. A few scowled, and I made a note of it. I'd been in a branch with a 'mean girl' problem once. I shivered at the memory.

She was beaming. Wow. "I'm looking forward to fucking around with each and every one of you! See you soon! Change!"

I took a deep breath. We'd just started, and I felt like I was in hot water already.

"You are, Ma'am."

The Branch Manager, Ms. Cassandra, stared down at me from her wing-back office chair. She was really, really tall. Fuck. She looked around the room slowly. They say you can just admit when you're nervous, that it makes the interview go smoother. Any thought of doing that left my mind right after she'd explained that yes, this was a free-use harem, and yes, that meant if I got the job it would mean she could bend me over and rail me out absolutely whenever she wanted.

I wanted it so bad.

She tented her fingers, seeming to be deep in thought. She was looking right through me.

"Maybe next time. Change."

I took a deep breath. We'd just started, and I felt like I was in hot water already.

"Our benefactor, Miss Molly, has taken a special interest in this opening. She will be taking the lead today." I managed to say it like it wasn't a giant cannon pointed straight at my career. My heart was pounding.

Right on cue, the top cunt herself walked in to the room and sat down in the third chair, flanked by a pair of fuckpets I didn't recognize, an Asian and a black one, on their hands and knees. They had actual diamonds embedded in their skin.

Muffin joined them at her feet. I gulped. Molly Kendra Parson. The 29 year old turbo-billionaire heiress to PCY-InterBank, Chandler PetroCo, and Festercorp. Not to mention Drigglr. Fucking Drigglr! Part-time socialite, occasional philanthropist, and the world's richest slut. Rich enough to bankroll an eight-figure-annual-budget-zero-revenue multinational organization to save her the trouble of having to make her own friends. Our industrial-scale oligarch Sugar Mommy. Of course, the bitch hadn't earned a cent in her life.

My bosses' bosses' boss. The last time I saw her in person she'd tossed my predecessor out on the street, and installed me in her place because I 'looked sharp'.

I'd never really forgive her for that.

Mistress Molly never screened harem candidates. That was my job, aided by the Board's painstaking analysis of her tastes and desires. It was a rule. She didn't even get notified of new members, because she wanted to meet them 'organically'. Until now.

She must have really wanted to make sure her first hit of girlcock was up to snuff. I could sympathize with that, at least. Especially if her New Years' went how I'd heard it had. Sheesh.

If I fucked this up it was going to be a real problem. And she'd been right outside and totally could have heard me say it was all an act and I was falling apart beneath the surface and Jesus H. Fuck I was so fired fuck fuck fuck fuck.

I sat there in perfect, stoic grace, smiling serenely, contemplating how to make five years as a harem girl look good on a resume.

Molly grinned as she shook Cassandra's hand. She was dressed down, in a carefully-weathered pink sweatshirt and a shapeless black skirt that probably each cost more than my parents' house. Her blonde hair fell in perfectly, painstakingly-disheveled tresses, just shy of her shoulders. She was short and petite: even with both of them sitting down, the futa towered over her. She had the kind of bearing that suggested she'd be just as happy, and just as confident and just as popular, even if she wasn't rich enough to buy and sell countries.

She was easygoing and approachable and innocent and . . . cute. Just cute. Cute, but, as we'd all silently agreed not to admit, not all that hot. An outside-the-harem eight, albeit with the best beauty routine money could buy.

. . . I guess that was still pretty hot. Being surrounded by the hottest tenth-of-a-percent of the world's lesbians all day every day for years had really screwed up my perspective on these things. Dating was gonna be tough once I got kicked out. I guess that was Molly's fault too. Bitch.

Molly's voice seemed to light up the whole room. I wondered how much had it cost her, to go to the school where they taught you to speak like that. I was getting pretty good at bullshitting, maybe I could teach there one day.

"Ohmygod, you're so tall! Cassandra, right? Can I call you Cassie? I'm gonna call you Cassie. I love your tits! I hope little Lindsey hasn't been giving you too hard a time! She's just uptight cause I promoted her to a job she was totally unqualified for, just to watch her squirm!"

What.

My whole facade came crumbling down in an instant.

She said it like it was the damn weather. Like she was complimenting my hair. Like she wasn't talking about upturning my whole goddamn life for a whole goddamn year. Fucking billionaires, man.

She stifled a laugh at my shocked expression. "Surprise!"

Muffin laughed out loud. Which was totally inappropriate for a fuckpet. And Molly fucking reached down and high fived her. The other two pets seemed jealous.

I thought she was my friend! What the fuck, Muffy.

I shot her a wounded look. She had the good grace to look sorry.

Cassandra, for her part, was smiling. Just smiling politely. Most of the girls, when they met Molly for the first time, were starstruck, or at least a little anxious. Cassandra, though, was sailing along with the same detached, amused confidence she'd had since she stepped off the elevator. (Except for those couple of unexplained freak-outs, when she was talking to Becca. And why was she talking to Becca for so long anyway? Sure, Becca answered her, but Cassandra didn't seem to understand her sign language in the slightest! This bitch was weird!)

She smiled that same inscrutable smile as Molly marveled at her curves. "I'm so glad you're here, I thought I was gonna have to wait a while to get you in person!" Suck-up.

Molly actually blushed. Whatever happened on New Years must have really done a number on her. Still, she was the picture of playful, feminine composure. She curtsied, obnoxiously. Who does that? Its the 21st goddamn century.

So, was I fired, now that her little game was up? Had she had her fun with me, and I was headed back to the Miami branch? Was she planning to kick me out from square one, and arranged this whole farce to humiliate me on the way out? Were they laughing at me in Miami right now? What the fuck!

I collapsed, for the first time in a long while, into the empty freedom of being totally fucking ignored. The princess had had her laugh at my expense, and was busy fawning over her new toy. Cassandra was humoring her, which was clearly a new and fascinating experience for the heiress. Muffin knew better than to approach me for a little while. The other fuckpets were being perfect, silent ornaments. I took a deep breath, and did my best not to let my confusion and anger show. If there was any chance of staying in the club, I didn't want to ruin it, even if it meant staying in fucking middle management. Maybe getting fired would be better than that... No. Outside this organization, I was totally unemployable. Fuck.

Slowly, Cassandra seemed to notice my distress. Or maybe she just had a little more empathy than I'd figured. The way she looked at Molly after that, like she was any other stupid girl... I don't know where she got that confidence from, but I was ready to suck her off then and there. Fuck.

"You're a little mean, huh? I mean, Lindsey seems to have things pretty together, was she really that bad?"

I couldn't have imagined standing up to Molly like that. Of course, the princess answered the question promptly and politely.

"I mean, kind of? This place has gotten boring, why do you think its my first visit in a year? Worth it though, watching her panic like that." Ugh. Of course.

"Change."

"Are you kidding?"

I grimaced awkwardly. A hot summer wind blew by, kicking up a sprinkling of fine dust from the still-smoldering wreckage that used to be InterBank Tower. My fault, obviously. I swear, I was doing my best.

Cassandra loudly failed to stifle a giggle. "Change."

"What? No, I'm thrilled, actually. Sure, I was gonna let the board replace her after a year or so, but... I mean, look at these sluts." She was actually beaming as she gestured around the hall at the assembled harem girls. Every one of them was standing at attention, shoulder to shoulder and blushing with arousal, lining the left and right wall of the dining hall, in perfectly matching maid outfits, cut to expose their tits. Each girl's nipples were connected to each other and to the girl on her left and right by a set of clamps and a thin metal chain. Just as we'd rehearsed. The whole room was faintly buzzing with the sound of the vibrators buried in each girl's snatch.

If I'd known it was all a prank, I wouldn't have bothered.

I gulped as Molly left her seat, picking one of them at random to inspect. Harley. Just my luck. She was still a little willful. Molly gently caressed the warm brown skin of her face, and then her hands tracked down to her breasts. Slowly, steadily, like a cat playing with a mouse, she wrapped the chain between her nipples around one finger. Suddenly, she tugged it downwards.

I winced, less in sympathy, more in panic. I hoped no one noticed. Marissa, to Harley's left, bit her lip, but managed to avoid making a sound. Harley stood there, stock still. A single tear beaded in one eye. Molly jumped up and wrapped herself around Harley in a deep embrace, hugging the taller woman tightly and jostling the entire row of chains and clamps and tits. No one moved or made a sound. "Amazing." Molly planted a single kiss on Harley's forehead, then dropped back to the ground. Harley's face turned to a warm, genuine smile. "Thank you Mistress!" She was practically glowing.

I'd have to reward her somehow.

I was so fucking relieved, at least in the part of my mind that was still panicking about keeping up the act. Just a week ago these girls were complaining and slacking and speaking out of turn! I'd spent ages punishing and prodding and making examples, keeping up the stern disciplinarian act the whole time, lest the whole thing fall apart from a single crack in the facade. Nothing to guide me but guesswork and luck! I'd gotten away with it!

Muffin shot me a knowing glance, as if I wasn't still mad at her. She was getting punished later.

The 'punishment' part came easy, at least. I just did what I wished my Branch Manager would do to me. Most of the girls seemed to take to it very happily. Today was the crescendo of that little arc, of course. We could all go back to fucking around now. The boss got off on the spectacle and the discipline show, but eventually she always just wanted to collapse in a heap of harem girl cheesecake and play Mario Kart. (And Smash, obviously. Heh.)

Sometimes I forgot she was older than me. Although I'm sure she'd buy her way out of that, too, eventually.

Cassandra was enjoying the show as well, albeit a little more passively, examining each of the assembled girls in turn. Window shopping. Fair enough; if this went well for her she'd have her pick of the litter soon.

Suddenly, she broke her silence.

"Hey, Molly!" She practically shouted, over the relative quiet of the hall. That was... bold. Molly turned towards her with a piercing glare. The assembled harem inhaled sharply in suppressed shock.

"How tall are you?"

The tension in the room instantly relaxed. She was just asking a question. No worries.

Molly's expression softened as well, as soon as she realized it. "Five foot nothing," she reported over the ambient buzz. "Oh, or, like, five-two in these," she added, indicating her simple black shoes. At least I'd always have height on her.

Cassandra glanced at me with a smirk, and quickly winked. Whatever that was meant to convey, it was lost on me.

"Change."