Because You Can

Author's note: Nothing about this premise broadly makes any sense on multiple levels, and neither do most of the details, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway.

Warning: It contains misogynistic and demeaning language and acts throughout, as well as extremely unethical sexual relationships, and is profoundly dumb.

* * * * *

"This is some bullshit!" The shout was strained and high-pitched, deafening in volume but too whiny to truly intimidate. The man, who had been seated in his fraying office chair was now standing with his palms pressed so hard to the desk that his knuckles were white, contrasting his beetroot face.

"That's the decree, old man. Right from the top brass." Came the much softer reply of a younger man leaning on an office cabinet. "They've already hired this girl, one Angela Bookhill, to come and 'assess our workplace culture and hiring standards.'"

A third man sighed and rolled his eyes theatrically at that. "Well, so they have, so what? We'll just give her a course of the vids and she'll be on her knees in no time. With any luck, she'll be a good fuck - we could use some new meat around the place anyway."

The second man tutted. "She'll be reporting directly to the higher-ups. You think we can send one of our office bimbos to deliver a report on sexism to upper management without raising suspicion?"

The first man sank deeply back into his chair, deflating as quickly as he had blown up. "We do everything for these people, work ourselves to the bone, by all measures we're incredibly successful, and this is how they reward us? And for what, having a little fun at work? It's not enough to let women into the workplace, we have to promote them ahead of decent, hard-working men, and sit on our hands like goddamn monks?!" There was a pause as the old man ran out of breath and sat staring down into his lap and panting. Finally, he looked beseechingly to the second man who had spoken. "For god's sake, what do we do?" He was close to tears.

A slight smile spread on the second man's face as he stood up straight from the cabinet and began to approach the other two. "There is another approach I've been considering..."

---

Ange stood outside the entrance to the shining glass tower, waiting to finish her phone call before entering. "Don't worry, I'll take care of dinner tonight, it'll be ready before you get in."

There was a sigh of relief from her partner Em on the other side of the line. "That'd be fantastic. Are you sure? It's your first day at the new office, I'm sure you'll have plenty to do..."

"Em, if you have to go across town to get this thing fixed, then that's what you have to do. Don't worry about me, I can handle an extra night on dinner duty every now and again." She reassured her with confidence.

"You're the best Ange, I'll see you this evening. Love you!" The two of them shared an air kiss goodbye through the phone, and Ange turned to enter the reception after hanging up. Em worked from home as a freelance journalist, but today she had to be out of the house on a number of engagements, and by the time she was done the only shop open to repair a coffee-damaged laptop was well out of her way. Ange didn't mind a few extra chores at home, given that most of the time they both pulled their weight. She had a girlfriend who loved her and a job that she was passionate about, it would take more than a few minor inconveniences to sour her mood.

---

The perfunctory tour of the office was performed efficiently by a generic middle-aged man in a well-fitted suit, who introduced himself as John. "...and finally, here is your office. Nicole here will act as your secretary, she'll help you contact the people you need to speak to, find any data you might need, et cetera."

The beautiful young woman he was referring to stood as he spoke, leaving from behind her desk and moving to greet Ange. She was dressed to impress, with makeup in a style more commonly suited to nights out than a day's work as an office drone. Her white shirt was unbuttoned far enough to suggest a hint of cleavage and she wore a fairly daring but stylish thigh-length navy skirt. "Great to meet you! I prefer to be called Nikki!" Her voice was carefree and confident as she took Ange's hand between both of hers.

"Lovely to make your acquaintance, Nikki." Ange responded with a practiced balance of warmth and professionalism, freeing her hand and lowering it. "I'm looking forward to working with you." She spoke honestly -- Nikki's forward nature was a clear contrast to Ange's reserved professionalism, but she was clearly very friendly, the kind of person that anyone could easily get along with.

John was already beginning to leave. "There's an introductory video waiting for you in your emails, Angela. We would ask you to watch it over first thing, and then proceed as you see fit from there. We're allowing you total freedom in your work here."

Ange raised a sceptical eyebrow. Doubtless there would be conflict and bureaucratic red-tape aplenty once she really began to dig into the structures and systems of the workplace - no entrenched patriarchal organisation would allow itself to be properly examined and reformed without a serious fight. However, that would all come soon enough. For now, she responded with a simple, "Thank you John, I'll get right to work."

---

The video began with a cacophonous thumping noise that resembled the sound of a speaker being unplugged at full volume and, thanks to the expensive-seeming headphones the company provided as a courtesy, seemed to explode from inside her own skull, accompanied by the screen plunging suddenly into a shocking blackness. Instantly Ange's senses were overwhelmed, and she fell out of her conscious state and was left staring thoughtlessly at the blank monitor for a few moments. Then, sound began to gradually fade in - feminine moaning and sighing that sent suggestive shivers right through Ange, causing her own breath to hitch and her pupils to dilate. Images to match the eroticism of the audio began to play, the soft curves of a series of gorgeous women presenting themselves before the entranced victim, their wide eyes begging, full lips parting wetly as they gasped and groaned lewdly. A voice spoke directly to Ange's core, throaty and sensual in its intonation.

"Sex and power. Power and sex."

The submissive nature of the footage that was nesting itself in Angela's subconscious became apparent. Every girl on screen was looking up at Ange from below, moving to display themselves better, or in some other way begging to be objectified and used. The noises increased in volume and intensity, orgasmic cries from left, right and centre inflaming Ange's arousal.

"You have power. You deserve sex."

The mantras repeated themselves for the full ten-minute run time of the video, the voice relishing the pronunciation of each syllable. The girls danced and played in front of Ange's wide-open eyes, which were moving rapidly beyond her own conscious control, greedily devouring every inch of skin they could see. The breathy moans of the temptresses began to form words themselves at some point, all begging invitations towards Ange directly - please, I'm yours, take me.

And then, just as smoothly and gradually as the sounds and images had begun, they faded out. Ange stared dumbly for a few moments, before there was another resounding pop and the screen returned to normal. She snapped back to wakefulness, the line of drool that had been trailing from her lower lip whipping back up into her mouth.

If she had been asked to describe the contents of the video, Ange would have found she could remember nothing about it, but she was left with the strong impression that the video had been both useful and informative - and, of course, she would promptly watch the videos the company sent her each morning without questioning why.

---

Her first week on the job at an end, Ange sat on the sofa with her laptop open in front of her, reviewing her notes. She had already known about the lack of women in higher positions in the company but was surprised at the favourable gender split at the mid-to-lower levels in all roles and departments. The main stand out point of her investigation was yet to reveal completely itself, however - at least not in a way she could articulate. All she could say was that there was a strong atmosphere of sexuality in the office.

It was even beginning to have unexpected effects on her. Controlling her libido was never something that Ange struggled with, she always maintained an appropriate demeanour for any given situation. However, she constantly found her inner thoughts turning to the attractiveness of the other women in the office. She would catch her eyes following thighs, hips and breasts as they passed her by, and she was repeatedly shaking herself out of daydreams about Nikki's cleavage, and her cute smile.

She certainly didn't want to report on this atmosphere until she had something concrete to say about it that wouldn't only involve complaining about the way her fellow employees chose to dress. The women in the office certainly favoured briefer skirts and more elaborate styles than she was used to, but there was thus far no indication that there were any inappropriate requirements in the dress code, or that any discomfort was being caused. Not yet anyway. Ange wasn't stupid, and while it was well within the rights of the women to dress how they wanted, it was highly unlikely that every single one of them would adopt this style independently. At the very least it might suggest unethical hiring practices, with interviewers making their decisions based on skirt length rather than merit.

Em began humming from the kitchen adjoined to the living room that Ange was working in. Idly Ange examined her and wondered when the last time was that she had gotten dressed up at all. Ange hadn't seen her outside of lounging clothes in what seemed like ages, and the contrast with the beautiful women at work was highlighting this in Ange's mind.

She shook her head. Her unusually heightened libido and sexual frustration shouldn't be taken out on her loving partner. She smiled and got up to approach Em. Wrapping her arms around the shorter woman's waist she whispered an invitation in her ear. Em looked at her apologetically.

"Not tonight, love. I'll be zonked out as soon as I've finished these dishes."

Ange unwound her arms from her lover, and stalked back to the couch, finding that she felt quite wounded. She needed an outlet for this hunger within her, and soon.

---

Ange's chest rose and fell with each deep breath, though she was unaware of it in her induced unconscious state. She was leaning in towards the screen, mouth open, jaw trembling, as the nubile girls being displayed for her beckoned for her with every facet of their beings.

"Your girls should be sexy, sexy girls should be yours."

Ange let out a needy whine as these words were accompanied by the image of three girls splayed out and trembling in orgasmic bliss, all staring pleadingly out and up at her.

"Serious girls bore you, sexy girls should perform for you."

A series of clips of girls in outrageous dresses and costumes followed this, they twisted and turned sensuously, groping and touching themselves and each other in order to draw Ange's eye from one teasing body to another.

When Ange was wrenched back into consciousness, she had no idea why she was so turned on. She could only think that the atmosphere in this office was truly more intense than she had realised earlier on. She was now entering her fourth week at work there and was reaching levels of constant ambient arousal she had no previous experience of.

Nikki knocked at the door and entered without waiting for a response, a steaming mug of coffee in her hand. "Morning, Ange! Hot one today!"

Nikki's comment on the weather perhaps explained her outfit, although Ange swore she was dressing skimpier by the day regardless of the temperature. As the secretary approached her desk, Ange couldn't stop her eyes from running down that body just once, those incredible breasts being held inadequately by the fourth button down on her shirt, those inviting thighs exposed by a skirt that didn't manage to extend halfway down them.

"Nikki, I've told you a million times already that you don't have to bring me coffee, it's not a part of your job." Nikki rolled her eyes as she bent to place the mug on the desk with exaggerated firmness, a move that Ange had to notice caused her boobs to bounce. She walked round the back of the desk and rested her hands on Ange's shoulders.

"You work sooo hard every day, the least I can do is offer you a little pleasantness when I can." As she spoke Ange felt hot breath teasing the back of her ear, causing her to clench a little. Surprised, she turned to see exactly how close Nikki's face was to her, but found herself faced only with cleavage, pushed perfectly into her face by the tight shirt. She choked a little, at a loss for words.

Nikki released her, smiled warmly, and headed for the door. "Call me if you need anything, I'm at my desk 'til lunch." As she walked away her hips swayed lasciviously, and Ange was unable to stop staring as she went. Unbidden, a thought shot through Ange's mind - What a fucking tease. Immediately she was shocked at her own internal words. She clearly needed some release, and badly at that.

---

Ange was frustrated to find that her work was getting done less efficiently than she would have liked, and that she had no-one to blame but herself. Lunch break found her in a bad mood, that was of course not helped by her growing sexual dissatisfaction. As she was finishing her cafeteria meal, two loud men's voices boomed in a sudden burst of laughter, causing her to jump. Her attention drawn she began to pay attention to their conversation.

"After we got separated, oh man, there was this girl on the dancefloor - proper 10, I'm telling you, full 10. Her friend wasn't as good, but still hot as fuck, honestly, and they were dancing together, giving us the eye."

"Oh man did you get some of that?"

"I fucking did, what a fucking night, honestly. What a fucking night."

Ange found their crass discussion and rating of the women disgusting, but the image of the girls dancing in their club dresses distracted her and seemed to hold her back from confronting the men. Uncomfortably, she found herself equal parts angry with and jealous of the loudmouth pricks.

Deep within her subconscious, a mantra intoned - "They love performing for you, everything they do is for you."

As she got up to leave the canteen, she decided that including the men's comfort with having this discussion out loud at work in her report, as well as emailing hr regarding the incident would suffice; there was no need to confront the men directly. She told herself that this was the reason, though she exited the room at an unnecessarily slow pace, listening to more details of the hot club girls mouth-watering tits, flat stomachs, and how that sensuous dancing translated into the bedroom.

---

"Oh, I love working here." The spacy girl smiled softly in response to Ange's question. "I think I get treated the way I deserve." This unusually phrased response was typical of the responses Ange had been getting in her interviews with the women at the office. It was becoming infuriating - the higher-ups seemed to offer no prospects of advancement for the women, and yet to talk to them you'd think they were living the most fulfilling work life possible.

Ange's frustration with the girl's short answers was surely accentuated by the increasingly acute sexual frustration caused by interacting with the uniformly beautiful women who populated the office. Gabriella, the one she was currently talking to, had a particularly distracting habit of wetting her lips constantly, and the fact that her crossed legs in her chair had caused her skirt to be drawn up obscenely far over her gorgeous thighs didn't help matters either. Ange found that lately in this office she was never looking at a woman as a whole person, rather she was drawn to staring at individual body parts - a collarbone, cleavage, eyes, lips, ass. Her staring had to be blatant at this point, but it never went commented on, and in fact on the occasions where she was sure a girl had caught her, she was met only with a smile, or a giggle, or occasionally, she suspected, a deliberate accentuation of the part she was staring at - a tug at the shirt to expose cleavage, a gentle finger running across a lower lip.

"They'll give you whatever you want, just reach out and take it."

Ange forced herself off this train of thought. "Are you concerned at all by the current lack of representation of women in positions above yours?"

"Well - not exactly." The girl answered breathily. "The bosses keep things running smoothly. It has been a nice change to have you around though - personally I love working under women as well as men." Her smoky eyes bore directly into Angela's own, and Ange instinctively began to lean forward slightly, her hands twitching as if to reach out for the beauty in front of her. Ange mentally kicked herself, there was no way her interview subject was implying what Ange was inferring, this wasn't some cheap porno. She kept her cool, clearing her throat to mask the momentary pause, and continued.

"Well, I'm not actually your direct superior." Gabriella's only response was an amused and, to Angela, supremely erotic sound in the back of her throat, as though the girl were enjoying some private joke. Ange wrapped the interview up as quickly as possible and got the incredibly distracting girl out of her office.

---

Em writhed on the bed beneath Ange as Ange sped up the movement of her fingers on her partner's clit. Watching the girl below her spasm, unable to control her body, was setting sparks flying in Ange's head that had never been ignited before. She had never been a dirty talker during sex, but tonight she had to make Em tell her how hot she was.

"You love that, mmm? Say my name, tell me who's doing this to you."

Em's eyes opened wide in surprise, but she moaned out loud - "It's you, Ange, only you!"

Ange grinned. For the first time, the knowledge of her own sexual prowess and dominance was driving her forward more than any selfless desire to please her wonderful partner.

"You know they'll love it; you deserve to have them."

As Em came down from another orgasm, Ange lay back on the bed, propping herself up on the pillows against the headboard. With a smug smirk on her face, she motioned towards her own cunt wordlessly and, still gasping, Em crawled between her legs and began to lick.

Ange rode her face, looking down at her girlfriend as her pleasure built. Tutting, she reached a hand down to stroke the girl's hair. "Look up at me. Don't look away." Those eyes stared right into hers, dark with heavy desire, but still Ange wasn't satisfied. Moving the hand round to the back of Em's head, she applied slight pressure, and Em responded instinctively, burying her face in Ange's pussy. "That's right, that's right, that's how you do it for me." Ange's voice grew hoarser. Em responded to the praise, speeding up her tongue's playing as she got lost in Ange's eyes.

Ange came hard, and then held Em's head in place with her thighs, keeping her girlfriend working until she came again, and again, all the while praising the enamoured girl and physically directing her with forceful touch.

After they were finally done, Ange lay on her back, arms outstretched, and Em cuddled up to her side, grinning deliriously. "Well, that was certainly a change of pace, but not one I would mind every now and again!" She panted in Ange's ear.