Knock Me into Next Year

"I think we should do one of those... what do you Americans call it?" Miss Florentine wondered. "Ask Me Everything. How well does your audience know their favorite Internet stripper? Submit your questions now, and I'll read out the ones that aren't stupid."

Denise was startled at being called a 'stripper'. It was far less embarrassing thinking of herself as a 'camgirl' or even an 'e-thot.' Maybe she'd just been obscuring what she was doing with fancy modern buzzwords.

Then again, Miss Florentine might not have been familiar with the one rule of the internet: leave it up to the general populace of the Internet, and they will find a way to ruin it. She really wasn't prepared for the questions she was getting. After a few 'favorites' and questions about hobbies... out came the really impertinent questions. (The sexual ones weren't the impertinent ones. They were all naked with hard-ons, after all.)

"Maybe I shouldn't have asked for questions from the audience. Some churlish people in chat are asking how much you make." Miss Florentine read the chat while keeping her face off-camera. "I know that not discussing salaries among coworkers only serves the corporation, but what business is it of theirs?"

That was a surprisingly forward-thinking statement from her ruthlessly financially-minded boss... but then again, such a boss should know that satisfied and well-compensated workers were the happiest and most productive workers one could find. If Miss Florentine could get that through to her own supervisors... then she was worth every cent.

"On the other hand..." Miss Florentine said as she stepped back behind the camera. "I didn't realize that this was something you were compensated for. Is this... a job?"

Denise stammered a bit. "It's not a job in the sense of an employment contract or a nine-to-five. I'm technically a freelancer. I think it'd be the same arrangement if I was a Youtuber."

"But you do get paid to do this, then? This isn't a hobby? Someone pays you to whip out your cock and play with it on camera? Or do you do it all for free?" Miss Florentine probed. "The question I'm asking is: are you a whore... or a slut?"

Denise blushed. She felt her heart jump into her throat. She'd never thought she'd have to be held responsible for all the fun times she'd had over the last year. This was worse than any job interview she'd ever had.

"I... guess I'm sort of both?" She said unsteadily.

"Both what and what?" Miss Florentine added some strong emphasis on the two 'what's.' She really wanted to hear Denise say it.

She looked up to the laptop. Miss Florentine was holding up in front of her face, as if standing in for her entire audience. But none of them could see the rest of Miss Florentine, naked and erect with stockings and heels on. It felt a bit hypocritical to force her to confess something like this to the public.

"I'm a whore, because I get paid for sexual conduct... and I'm a slut because I really do love it, and I'd do it for free if I didn't have to worry about money. At least... while my looks hold up."

"I personally intend to hold onto my looks well into my sixties." Miss Florentine said. "Are you dedicated to this career for that long?"

Denise looked a little lost. "I mean... the Internet changes so fast these days. I can't predict if there will even be a job in that much time."

"You don' t think there will be a market in the future for attractive nude women with large penises?" Miss Florentine asked.

Denise grinned. "You're saying I'm attractive?" She hoped that detail would be in her next review.

"Don't fish for compliments, dear."

"You said it first! The fish just jumped into my boat!"

"If you make money off your appearance, then you must already know that." Miss Florentine said.

Denise looked away from the camera for a second. "I guess that's true.. But I also thought I was hung, until you two showed up. I hope my audience won't forget about me, but I can hardly blame them for being so... enthusiastic."

"If you've cultivated a relationship with your audience, they'll stay with you." Miss Florentine said with her trademark confidence. "It's you they are watching for, not just any large penis." She started to tip the laptop down, scanning across Denise's body... and passing it by until the laptop camera was facing the floor... pointing at her own nudity. She held her cock outward with one hand and the laptop up with her stronger arm.

"Even one as mighty as this one..." Miss Florentine sounded a bit distracted by herself. "I hope this is a fun angle. I can't see the screen anymore." She took a few steps around the meeting room. "Do you ever do something like this? Let people watch it move and sway as you walk? Perhaps let them imagine if it were their own? The heels might be hurting that illusion for any men watching."

"I guess I never thought of using the laptop like a mobile camera before tonight." Denise confessed. "I would just move it to get different static angles. People complain when I move it around too much because they get motion-sick."

"I hadn't considered that. I'm sorry if anyone got nauseous. That is certainly not our intention." Miss Florentine brought the laptop back down to the desk, bringing Denise back in shot. "Here's something I know you all love to see. This should help relieve any negative sensations you may have experienced from the previous shot."

Chat sped up noticeably, the way your dog was excited to see you after you'd gone to get the mail. Even with Miss Florentine possessing everything she had, and in larger quantity, they really liked Denise. Maybe it was the blonde hair...

Miss Florentine looked at this spectacle with admiration. How she'd love to have such a dedicated user base for anything SHE was selling! "Well, your audience knows what they like to see. They're watching because they want to interact with you, not just gaze at you. But how well does your audience really know you? The REAL you?"

"I like to think I'm pretty transparent." Denise said. "I mean, I sort of have to be to be... naked on camera every night. I'm private about my real identity and where I live, but as far as my emotional state or opinions, I feel like I'm an open book."

"Do you gripe about your personal life on here?" Miss Florentine asked. "Say, your boss is bullying you... would you curse her name and vent your spleen to your audience?"

Denise briefly looked embarrassed. "I try not to get TOO specific about my personal problems, but yeah... my boss thinks she's SO hot."

Miss Florentine's eyebrow bobbed up. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, she's a real hard-ass. Every day, I have to work myself really hard to make money for her... and she beats me, too!"

"My goodness. I can hardly believe it." Miss Florentine said in a tone that lacked sympathy.

"Well, it's true!" Denise's hand went to her cock and started to tug it. "Oh, no... she's at it again! What a fiend!" She sped up her hand for a bit, staring directly into the camera. "I told you, I make money doing this. I'm my own boss. It's not like I have a company or an LLC. It's just me."

"What a silly girl you are." Miss Florentine said with a lopsided smile. "I see why some people choose to watch your show instead of going to a New Year's party. But I do wonder what would bring an upstanding woman like yourself to this line of work."

"Upstanding? You just called me a whore and a slut."

"You called yourself both of those things. I briefly gave you the credit that you might only be one." Miss Florentine said. "If you're good at math, you might land in a job in teaching or finance.. but then they might call you a nerd. If you were good at pretending to cry, you could become an actress or a reality television star, but then they call you a phony. But being good at taking off your clothes and getting a thrill from being seen naked... does that make you an exhibitionist?"

Denise blinked a bit. "Uh, I don't really think of myself as an exhibitionist."

"You're wandering around an office building naked with an erection and you don't consider yourself an exhibitionist?"

"I normally do this from home!" Denise confessed. "I've... never done it away from my desk or my bed."

Miss Florentine took an alternate tactic. "Well, how many people are watching right now?"

Denise pushed her glasses up her nose and looked at the streaming interface. "Four hundred ten people."

Miss Florentine hummed quietly. "You're rather popular. So you're here, streaming your lithe, naked body for four HUNDRED pairs of eyes... and that doesn't excite you? If I was naked in front of a crowd THAT size, even I might feel a pang of shame..."

She glanced back down at herself, as if reminding herself of her glory. "Well, probably not."

"This is my first time taking the show on the road, so to speak." Denise said.

"It's hardly 'on the road' if you're just in another quiet room where nobody will interrupt you." Miss Florentine said. "If this IS the big season finale... we should make it exciting."

Miss Florentine started to walk backwards, away from Denise... before turning around and walking off with her laptop. She pointed the camera back to the floor, getting some more shots facing the floor... and her giant wagging cock as she walked.

Denise caught up with her as she got to the elevator door, taking the laptop back. "Where are you going?" She asked.

"Let's take a trip down before anyone catches us." Miss Florentine pointed the tip of her cock into the down button on the elevator, head still kept neatly out of frame. "Better to get caught downstairs where we'll be in so much more trouble."

Denise shook her head. "We... can't use the elevator."

Miss Florentine squinted suspiciously, unseen by the viewers. "Why not? Is there a fire?"

"No, but the connection to the stream is on the Wifi." Denise explained. "I don't know if we'll lose the Internet if we go in there."

Miss Florentine pulled the tip of her cock from the button, leaving a thread of precum hanging between them. The elevator dinged as the car approached. "Maybe we should ask someone who has doubtless used their phone in the elevator."

They both turned to Julienne, who shrugged, looking back at her phone. "I use data, not the Wifi. But the rides in there are usually short enough where I don't notice an interruption."

Denise wasn't so sure. "I can sometimes connect to the Wifi in the parking garage. It's not the signal strength I'm worried about. It's being enclosed in the metal car of the elevator. It might act as a Faraday cage."

"That only leaves the stairwell, But if we go down that way, how will we get back up here, if not through the elevator?"

"We could... put a doorstop in to keep it from closing?"

Miss Florentine looked at her severely. "That would be an OSHA and a fire code violation."

"I think we're breaking a lot of rules tonight." Denise said.

Miss Florentine looked to Julienne. "You take the elevator down. She and I will go down the stairwell to meet with you and keep the audience entertained in the meanwhile."

The elevator made two dings. Julienne moved in front of the doors before they opened. She must have been confident that nobody had taken this moment to move up to the third floor. So was Denise, who got a shot of Julienne from directly behind, her spine aligned with the split in the doors as they closed.

The idea of being nude in an elevator car, knowing the door would open and you had no control over who would be standing there when you reached your destination... it was a little scary. Maybe it was a metaphor for living this double life she had done for the last twelve months. She has to know that this would all come out at some point. She just thought that her 'second job' would somehow be revealed to her family... not her co-workers.

Miss Florentine took the laptop and held it by the hinge as she walked down the emergency stairs a few steps behind Denise, filming as they descended. Every step of Miss Florentine's high-heeled shoes echoing through the brick-enclosed stairwell like a gunshot.

"This is such an unflattering angle." Miss Florentine shook her head, speaking loudly over the noise of the footsteps. "Butts are meant to be looked UP at, not down! You have a lovely back and nice hair, but I can practically hear all the cocks deflating in the audience." She squinted at the chat. "Well, there seems to be ONE person enthusiastic about it, at any rate."

"I know who you're talking about." Denise said. "At least he's having fun. But we've got two more flights to get down."

When Denise reached one of the landings on the staircase, Miss Florentine swept in front of her, pointing the laptop at her. "Why don't we get them back in the show for a bit?"

Denise looked about. There was nothing to worry about in here. Even if someone pulled the fire alarm... these stairs wouldn't fill with people because nobody was on the upper floors except them. How'd they escape the building discreetly while naked... that would be a problem they'd dwell on only if it actually arose.

"Miss J will be waiting for us on the first floor..." Denise said.

"She'll be fine down there by herself." Miss Florentine insisted. "Better to be sure the audience stays engaged."

Denise could just picture Julienne down at the lobby, nude and bashfully trying to hide behind one of the decorative potted plants. Maybe she'd just stay in the elevator car, assuming nobody else would enter it to go upstairs... unless someone else was looking for an office for a quick bonk. Surely then, with her large extension, she'd have her work cut out for her.

As it was, if her audience was getting a little bored, she knew what they liked. She stood on the landing and tugged herself until she was at her full height once again. She hadn't really done much standing and jerking on her show... it seemed dangerous. One of the very few times she did a stream in her shower, she wore wakeboarding shoes to make sure she didn't slip.

Denise's off hand went to the nearby handrail. What a useful thing this would be in her bathroom. She didn't dare risk putting all her weight on her towel rack.

"Can you dance?" Miss Florentine asked.

"Not really." Denise answered honestly. "I'm not very coordinated. I can sort of groove and act sexy."

"You don't need to ACT sexy." Miss Florentine said. "You are sexy."

This unrestrained compliment from her stern and not-easily-impressed boss startled Denise. She chuckled shyly and brought her hand to her cheek.

"Oh, and a simple compliment sets her heart aflutter." Miss Florentine mocked. "Maybe she's not a slut, but just a nerdy lady pretending to be one just because she's skinny and attractive and has a big penis."

"STOP. Oh, my gosh."

"AND you say things like 'oh my gosh!' I see how you can charm such a large audience."

"A streamer girl has to be everything a desirable woman can be... slut or shy, domme or sub. Lucky for me, I've got everything someone would want..." She leaned towards the camera, hoisting her balls upwards and running one finger on her other hand across her slit. Chat became a torrent of fruit and flower emoji, puzzling Miss Florentine.

Denise stood on the landing, rubbing her mound with one hand and jerking off with the other hand. How had she never done this before, in all the bored curiosity of masturbating every night? It almost felt like jerking it while standing on a tightrope.

"If I jizz all over the floor... will the janitor come in here and clean it up?"

"I don't know if the janitor's check the stairwells unprompted."

Denise stopped her jerking suddenly. "Then I'd better not. Let's not be THAT bad tonight."

Miss Florentine made a surprised scoff. "You like other people more than I do, I suppose."

"Enough to not be a total jerk about making others clean up after me." Denise said. "Besides... I want to save it for Miss J."

"Do you think she's interested in you?" Miss Florentine asked, the unspoken follow up suggesting that she may have been more desirable than Denise.

"I think so. Why?" Denise smirked. "Would you be jealous if we had some fun on stream?"

Miss Florentine waited for a moment of the perfect length before responding with a smile. "Intensely."

Denise and Miss Florentine landed on the first floor. The exit emptied to a hallway off the main lobby, where nobody was currently avoiding the main party, thank goodness. This company must really be enforcing the mandatory attendance and obligatory fun. Miss Florentine placed a rubber doorstop in the doorway to stop the latch from connecting.

Miss Florentine craned her head about, leaving the laptop stationary. "Now, where is Miss J?" She asked aloud.

"I'm over here." Came a familiar voice.

Just as Denise had pictured, Julienne had hid in the relative privacy of behind the leaves of a large potted plant. The plant was inexplicably placed at the end of the dead-end hall where the elevators were, where it would surely never get any sunlight. It must have been fake.

"Feeling shy, Miss J?" Miss Florentine asked.

Julienne moved out from her hiding spot, holding a branch in front of herself to keep part of her hidden from the camera. Standing in defiance of such tradition, the leaves were covering her face. "I'll feel a little more brave if I can get something with which to maintain my privacy."

"I think I know where we can find just the thing." Miss Florentine tipped the camera down to keep Julienne's face out of frame. "Come on."

The trio of nude women moved away from the elevators and up to the entrance to the cloak room. It was near the entrance but not visible to the street. It was also one short hallway away from the atrium, where all the hustle and bustle was taking place. Exposure was just a few steps away... so the women approached it carefully. Even Miss Florentine's heeled footfalls were softer than average.

The woman at the coat check alcove had slumped over the counter, asleep. Surely, someone would wake her after the ball dropped to get their coats back. An uneaten slice of cake was waiting for her, just as Denise had found at her desk.

Denise got low to sneak under the cloak room's window, hoping not to wake her up. The others weren't so shy, walking right past it and finding what they were looking for. The woman did not stir.

The theme of this year's New Year's Eve party was a masquerade. Everyone on the nearby main floor was obligated to wear a mask of some kind to obscure their identity. This sort of thing might have worked better if all the participants weren't co-workers and could probably tell who everyone was by voice, shape or body language.

Management encourage people to make their own masks, but those that worked at a financial institution may have skewed against such extroverted artistic expressions. Furthermore, Denise was WAY too busy off the clock to make something like that. Thus, someone had taken one of the column-shaped racks that used to hold postcards and filled it with pre-made masks.

There was quite a selection to choose from. This must have been the sum of many hours of careful work to make such a wild variety of masks. The party must have had fewer people attend than she thought, as there was quite a selection to choose from, columns of eyeless faces gawking at Denise. She couldn't help but feel reminded of what it was like to do this for a living.

Well, ONE of the things she did for a living.

Denise looked over, careful not to turn her body with her head and reveal her friend's faces before they were ready. Miss Florentine and Julienne were standing in front of each other, rubbing their fingers into each other's eyes. This was not a mating ritual Denise was familiar with. A closer inspection showed that they were applying a bit of very dark eye shadow to each other's eyelids and surrounding area. This would help further obscure their identity while wearing the mask. Julienne thought her skin was dark enough to make this unnecessary, but Miss Florentine was insistent.