Never Out of Reception-ist Here

'Hello, Richardson & Richardson, how may I direct your call today?'

Even as the words left her mouth, the tingle that had grown far too familiar within her sprouted to life, pirouetting around the walls of her mind before curling down her spine and slithering along the insides of her most sacred space before it disintegrated and radiated outward from her body like so many other minute gasses and sensations passing through her. Unwittingly, she tucked an auburn strand over her ear and listened to her caller without really hearing what they said. Agreeably and with a fittingly chipper note to her voice, she smiled as she placed the call on hold and rang through to Steven Richardson of the Richardson family firm, a six-generation-strong line of only Richard's sons running the place. Steven, third out of the three current heads of the directorial table and youngest of the three brothers, answered. His voice came down the line to her open ear intimately, as if he were speaking very close to the microphone - which, indeed, he was.

'What can I do you for, sweet-cakes?' He said, his slightly southern tone rounded at the edges in a way that gave him the air of a professional, intelligent man. His lips did indeed brush the mouthpiece as he jammed the receiver into his shoulder, his other hand buried beneath the desk and clenched in the messy red fuzz of hair that was attached to the perky little something currently applying herself orally to his manhood. As soon as it was stabilized there, he put the lagging hand down to join it and held her by both sides of the head as his saliva-covered meat thickened in her throat.

Unperturbed and seemingly completely unaware of what was happening on the other end of the line, the receptionist smiled and said, in a prim and high-pitched voice, 'Master Richardson, I have a Juliette Adams on the phone for you - she is calling about an affairs hearing and needs an appointment after your discussion.'

'Just give me a moment here, darling,' Richardson said, the plastic of the handset crackling in her earpiece as it was crunched between his cheek and shoulder. Someone seemed to sigh down the line, and there was a sort of gasp. A lot of crackling issued from the tiny speaker, then some loud knocks. A moment later, the receptionist thought she could hear the sound of a woman giggling nearby. The handset crunched some more, and then Steven Richardson returned, his voice a little huskier than it had been before.

'Sure, sure, please, send Janet through.'

'Juliette, Master Richardson - putting you through now.' Despite herself, as she pressed the buttons, Rosa felt that familiar, ever-present tingle shoot through her again, and she squeezed her thighs together slightly harder as it left her body.

Rosa had been at Richardson & Richardson for only a month now, but already the headset attached to her left ear and the tight, body-hugging pencil dress felt as comfortable as her track-pants and sweater at home. Exhaling slightly, she took a brief pause to straighten her posture further and smooth any creases out of her presenting form, pulling and rubbing so that the fabric fit her shape perfectly while never impacting the visibility of her cleavage at all. At thirty-two, Rosa was pert, cute, and a life-long front-lines girl. She'd done it all; waiter, receptionist, barista, bars, retail, services. She'd never been able to find herself a true calling; and to be honest, service work wasn't really that bad. She got out, she met people, and the walking and lifting kept her fit, which she liked - she liked her shape and thought she was attractive enough in the right clothes.

Free of wrinkles and greys, Rosa was a strikingly dark-haired red head. Her hair had a natural wave in it and she kept it shoulder-length. In lighting like this, it looked dark, nearly black - but in sunlight, it shone a vivid, rich blood red, and in both scenes, it was a stark frame for her soft, milk-white face. She had bright, milky-blue eyes and a slim nose that sat atop a large, smiling mouth. She was nearly five-eight, but in the lengthy heels she wore today, she looked more like five-ten. The slender heels accentuated an already pert body, twisting her ass out and helping her chest pop.

The phone rang again, and its music twirled its way into her ear where it seemed to root into the very earth of her brain, flowering and filling her insides with colour and sound. She probably answered it, and she probably put the call through to - well, whoever. Rosa really didn't know. She just kept on smiling and making sure the single slice of fabric that was her dress remained crease-free.

The phone rang. Rosa answered it with a grin that nearly twinkled as the third ring began, just as she always did.

'Hello, Ma-'

'Is there anyone waiting in reception?' A male voice said into her ear, not waiting to hear her greeting. She halted speaking immediately.

'No sir, Master Richardson has just taken his eleven o'clock into-'

'Come to my office.'

The line closed, and Rosa stood obediently, brushing down her lap to free it of any wrinkles. She turned and walked towards the staff door, swiping her key card over the sensor. Entering the working area of the building, Rosa walked without looking past rows of open-plan desks. Had she looked, she would have seen not a few of these desks occupied by men - only men. Had she looked for slightly longer, she would have seen that quite a few of those male-only desks had not only their intended worker seated behind them, but also a woman in various states of undress and sexual performance. To the right of the staff room door, one of the book-keeping team members was pushing a blonde woman's head down between his legs - his cock was disappearing further and further into her mouth, and though she coughed, she did not pull back. To the left, in the middle of the area, two more men sat back-to-back. The left-most was fondling the breasts of a youthful-looking Asian woman as she held her shirt up for him, while the other was guiding the round rump of a third woman down between his legs, her forearms resting on his desk so that she could lower her hips above his seated manhood. The black skirt she wore was tight around her cheeks, and as he pushed her onto his length, he hooked it up a little, so as to enjoy the view of both holes. As Rosa passed him, the helmet of his erect cock entered her body. Rosa didn't seem to notice.

Knocking on Caple Richardson's door, Rosa stood straight and tall, her hands clasped politely in front of her. When Caple's voice beckoned her, she turned the handle and stepped inside, smiling at her boss as she entered.

'Shut it behind you.' Caple said absently as Rosa stepped in. Casually, as if he did this every single day, and it was only a minor, yet necessary part of his routine - an accurate description of the life of a Richardson boy's life - the middle-aged Caple Richardson pushed his seat back and stood, reaching for his belt. He unloosed the clasp and withdrew the strap, loosening his pants and letting them fall away from his body. Rosa did not react.

'Over the desk today I think,' Caple said. He gestured vaguely towards his polished wooden desk. 'Back to me.'

'Yes, Master Richardson.' Rosa said. Now that she was in his office, Rosa's voice had lost the sunny trill it had had out in reception. Speaking now, she sounded flat and monotonous - as if no emotion fueled her words at all. Indeed, that was because none did. For as she began to shimmy the edge of her skirt up her thighs, slowly revealing the soft white flesh beneath until the fabric slipped up and over her breasts and passed around her head, falling unneeded to the floor beside her, the one thing Rosa did not remove was her headset. Even as the revealing lace bra and thin white panties concealing her most sacred parts were willingly removed, falling away to display Rosa's sensual form in all its glory, Rosa never touched the black plastic looped over her head, never reached for the speaker suctioned softly to her ear. Even as she stepped forward in her heels, turning herself in front of her male boss and leaning forwards so that her ass spread before him, pussy at the perfect height for him to enter her, Rosa never thought even once about the technology attached to her ear.

Richardson & Richardson had not been a massively popular firm. Indeed, they hadn't even been a particularly good one. But what they had done with their accrued wealth, aside from splurge with it at fancy bars and strip clubs, was invest. Most of those investments had been meaningless - Steven had been interested in crypto and had blown a lot of his shares on coins that plummeted shortly afterwards. Randall Richardson had taken leave and tried to buy a brothel in Tokyo; he had instead ended up with three 'soul-cards', which he claimed meant that three big-breasted teens in Japan belonged to him and were legally obligated to do anything he asked, and a tattoo of an oroborean symbol, where the head of the snake had been replaced with the head of a penis and the tail replaced with the parted folds of a vagina, the head just beginning to plunge into the open depths. And Caple, perhaps knowing something the others hadn't, had instead invested in a technology company out of eastern Russia claiming to be able to create 'mind-altering technology' useful for creating servants or soldiers.

Caple had bought the hand-factory and three years' wages for the eight men working there and had them finish their research. When their product finally succeeded, he had them build two-hundred covert devices inside the handsets of phones, in portable speakers, earbuds, headphones, and headsets. He had then had all but one of them wear their own devices, ordered them to forget everything to do with their work, and flee the country. The final man now worked as an admin assistant in his office, and was at that moment enjoying the asshole of a particularly tight little new hire.

Caple put one hand on Rosa's right cheek and watched her pinkness gently part, a light stickiness indicating the arousal at which she was kept all day long. Taking himself in his free hand, he slipped the edge of his cock along her lips, taking his time with her.

'How many women has Steven seen today, Rosa?' Caple asked casually, his voice not reflecting the intimacy in which the pair shared.

'At least three.' Rosa replied, muted as she spoke into the wood of his desk. Though she did not react to his touch, her voice had a slight quiver to it - kept at a constant arousal as she was, and stimulated every time she obeyed a command given to her, Rosa couldn't help responding physically to the contact. Her body knew, even if she didn't, what came after this type of contact. Still, Caple just rubbed her lips along his hardening head, gently rocking. He put both hands on her ass and looked lazily into the frosted glass wall before him, outside of which was a corridor that many of his staff used frequently. Someone in heels walked by, and he took a moment in his mind to wonder which one those feet belonged to.

'And Davey?'

He hasn't-mfh ­ -had any calls so far, Master,' Rosa said, a shudder shaking her as her clit brushed the skin of his cock briefly.

'A little wider.' Caple said idly. Rosa quickly lifted each foot, stepping slightly further out. Her hips lowered a little further, and now the curve of her body matched the curl of his cock. He left it there for a few moments. Then, he pulled Rosa's cheeks in his clenching fists, using the meat of her ass to pull her pussy open, and stiffened himself. Rosa's warm depths welcomed him inside readily, and he groaned softly as he slipped into her up to the hilt, feeling her tightness squeezing him all the way.

Caple Richardson started slow but worked up a quick pumping rut quickly, and within a minute Rosa was bucking on the desk, her ass warping as each thrust impacted it. Her breasts dragged across the wood and her erect nipples scraped the smooth surface. She did not alter her position, keeping her palms flat either side of her head and her elbows at shoulder-distance. She stared down into the table, almost ignorant of what was happening to her body - though inside her, she felt the furious thrum of arousal blistering her skin and urging her towards release, forcing her pussy to tense and tighten as Caple took her from behind.

Inside Rosa's ear, a curious negative-sound played. Nearly inaudible at first, the speaker within the headset warped the air in such a way that each sound wave 'pulsed' out of the device, carrying with it a consonant chorus of clashing and harmonic tones with each wave. Played at speed and with varying sub-tones and over-tones, the resulting effect was one of an overpowering, sensory-numbing feeling, as though the sound were pushing one away from one's senses. Once they had perfected the ability to reliably cause this in a subject, it had been remarkably easy to apply known mind-altering suggestion and coercion tactics to the sound wave. The end result was a wireless, compact speaker that could subdue, brainwash and program a target, at least to a basic level. It didn't have to be complex; as long as the wearer kept listening to the sound, they would stay disconnected from their brain, and after that it didn't take much to ensure they were always compliant and obedient. A few subliminal commands, a special tonal resonance similar to the right brainwave patterns, and a few 'special-sauce' additions from the sole remaining developer of the devices had resulted in the device Rosa now wore.

Rosa's mind tingled. It was a little like lying in a full-body massage chair for the brain; all her nerves fired, though nothing was actually triggering them. Her vision came to her through a warping, blurry tunnel, still all around her and yet somehow out of reach. She could neither smell or smell nothing, taste nor taste nothing, hear nor hear nothing. The only thing she knew she could hear was the strange, lilting echo of a glorious, angelic choir floating somewhere high above her head, far off in the space where she could not reach. Try as she might, she could not focus on that sound, and her attention span was woefully short in this negative-consciousness she found herself in. All she knew was that she had to obey, had to do as she was told... But what? What was she told? Who was she obeying? She didn't know, and by the time she began to think about the answer, the question was gone. A ripple of bliss turned her world a kaleidoscope of colour for a few moments, and Rosa buzzed, enjoying the shimmering vibration. She didn't know what it was, didn't have the mental capacity to understand this pleasure for more than just that; pleasure. It made her feel good, so she felt good - that was all there was to it.

Caple stroked up a quick, enjoyable orgasm inside Rosa. He pumped her for eight minutes, a decent and average performance for him. By the time Rosa's elbows would have been starting to get sore, Caple had sped up, grunting as his cock began to pulsate. A few strokes later, he pulled Rosa by the hips into him and groaned as the first blissful wad of semen rolled up his insides and into the waiting woman. He held her tight to his body, enjoying as he always did, the feeling of her hot depths drinking in his seed, enjoying the way she continued to tense and pull at his cock as if her body, robbed of its brain, still wanted him to fuck her more. When at last he was finished, he withdrew from the woman and released her, collapsing back into his seat.

'Clean up.' Caple said. It was all he had to say.

Rosa lifted herself from Caple's expensive desk and turned, her tits coming into view for the first time since she had undressed. She sank to her knees without a word and leaned in, lifting the half-hard cock of Caple Richardson in her hand and placing it on her tongue, lowering herself until the softening tip touched the back of her throat. She gagged briefly, a reflex and not a thought, but it subsided quickly and she settled into a slow, rocking suck that pleasured him as much as it cleaned him of ejaculate. Rosa's still partially open cunt dripped slowly as she worked him, her arousal never subsiding and her slow secretion of feminine wetness now mixed with Caple's cum. When he was satisfied with her work, Caple removed her head with a handful of her hair and released her to the side, just as casually as if someone were dropping a tissue they had just wiped themselves down with into a nearby trash can. Rosa knew this was the signal that she was done, and stood to collect her discarded dress.

'See me tonight at six.' Caple said as Rosa's naked backside wobbled towards his door. She turned; half of her breast silhouetted before her in the doorway. Her tousled hair looked as black as night, though the wavy locks still complimented the skin of her cheek and shoulder as well as if she were on the cover of Playboy.

'Sir?' It wasn't a challenge. Rosa was questioning him for orders - yet another personal command she had been given previously by Caple, and one of many that made her cunt tingle as she obeyed it. The shiver that rolled through her could almost be seen by Caple, had he been paying her more attention. As it was, he was already reading an email on his computer, his attention only half on the naked woman still dripping with his semen in his office.

'I have a five o'clock. Stay back and see me after they leave.' Caple said. 'Dismissed.'

And Rosa stepped naked from Caple's office, walking placidly to the toilets to clean herself, deodorize, redress and resume her official tasks.

Not fifteen minutes later, the once more dressed Rosa sat without crease or wrinkle in her clothes, her pert titties sitting proud atop her chest, her back straight as a board. She smiled as the phone rang, her earpiece coming to life as a voice entered her ear through it. Perhaps it was a client - perhaps it was one of the staff, deciding that they desired Rosa's attention. She just didn't have the foggiest idea.