The Slut Lesson

It was the start of another day for the associates at the law office of Roseleaf and Hart. The sun was shining down brightly on its immaculately manicured lawn and its shining spotless exterior. As the last of the morning dew fell away from the precision trimmed blades of grass, a sleek black high end model corvette slid its way into the parking lot. The car was as spotless as the building it entered and its license plate, with the word AZZKIKR emblazoned in full vanity glory, let the office know that Ryan Ricktor had finally arrived to grace them all with his awesome presence. Or so Ryan liked to think.

A trim and fit man of 32 with a slicked back mop of brown hair, Ryan had been in the law game for only five years, yet he already thought of himself as a gift from the gods. His work in civil law had only boosted his ego as, to date, he had never lost a case. Of course, the fact that he only took cases that he felt he could win did not affect his perception that he was unbeatable in court. His friends thought he was pretty good, his employers thought he was lucky and his mother thought he needed to get a haircut. But none of this had an effect on Ryan's enthusiasm for his chosen profession. He lived for 'the kill', as he put it. The satisfaction of watching the other guy's case crumble as he beat them into the legal ground. To say he was ruthless was being nice. Cut throat would be a more accurate description.

In any case, Ryan was feeling exceptionally good this morning. Just yesterday he had received what he considered the best news in his short career, he was being moved up a floor and given his own private office on the prestigious 4th floor. His previous office had been the size of a child's bedroom and you better believe he had bitched about it endlessly to anyone who was careless enough to get in range. But his move upstairs meant big things, he thought. For one, it was only a floor below the partners, and Ryan definitely had his eyes set on becoming one of them. But more importantly, he was finally getting his own secretary. Yes some big titted, huge assed blond bimbo who would screen his calls and make him coffee. Someone to give him back rubs when he was having a bad day and give him some... inspiration when he would require it. At least that's what he thought as he confidently strode into the building this morning.

Minutes later, however, Ryan stood in the threshold of his new office with a confused look on his face as he watched a skinny purple haired girl messing around with a box of papers and a file cabinet. She was not the buxom blond he had been expecting to greet him with a flirty smile and a cheery 'hello'. She was tall, taller than him in fact, skinny and had almost no ass or hips that Ryan could see. Further, while she was dressed in a tight black blouse and fitting thigh length pencil skirt, he could see that her left arm was covered in a sleeve of tattoos.

Who the fuck is this bitch and why is she messing around in my office? And where's my goddamn secretary!?

She didn't seem to notice him and Ryan wasn't too thrilled that she was poking around his case files. He strode over to her angrily and slammed his hand down on the open file in front of her. She let out a startled shout of 'FUCK' then backed up several paces and staired at him.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he growled at her. "These are private! Who are you and how did you get in here!?" He then raised his voice as he gazed around the office. "And where the fuck is my damn secretary!"

The girl gave him a withering look before responding with an icy tone. "I AM your secretary, moron."

Ryan's morning was not very productive. In fact, he had spent the whole day before lunch bitching on the phone to HR about one thing... his secretary. How dare they give me an ugly bitch for my secretary, don't they know who the fuck I am?

The truth of the matter was that the HR department knew all too damn well who Ryan Ricktor is. They had a file open on the amount of sexual harassment complaints on him, threating to reach the triple digits in number of complaints, and they were secretly relishing the day they they would be able to fire him for... anything really. Hopefully sue the pants off him too. But for now, the department had felt the best way to get some revenge and maybe even keep him in line was to assign him one Ms. Dixie Kline as his new secretary. Dixie had a reputation of being something of a ball breaker when it came to jerky men in the past and the head of HR practically jumped for joy at the idea of pairing her up with Ryan. This morning phone calls were just the first of their expected vengeance.

As you can probably guess, Ryan got the run around for several hours before being brushed off with the line of 'she was the only one available, please try back in six months to see if any new personnel are available.' The end result of all this was that Ryan was seething when lunch rolled around. His mood went from bad to worse because, when he finally did emerge from his office, the bitch was nowhere to be found. She did not reappear in his office until ten minutes later and Ryan was not pleased.

"And just where the hell have you been?" He exploded the moment he saw her.

Dixie just fixed him with another icy stare and responded coldly with, "I went out for lunch since you were pouting in your office."

Ryan's face turned a deep reddish color. Nobody talks to me like that! Especially not some skinny bitch!

"Look here you..." he started but was cut off by Dixie raising her hand to his face.

"Let's get something straight buddy. Nobody wanted this job. Hell, I didn't want this job. Everybody with two brain cells knows you are a massive jackass. But here we are. We have to work together. And that's the key word there chum. Together. I am not some slut that is going to kowtow to your every need. I'm here to organize your shit, manage your appointments and screen your calls. I'm not your fucking slave. And if you don't fucking like it you can take it up with HR." And then a wicked smile spread across her face as she stared into his. "Oh wait... you already did."

Ryan just about lost his mind. No one had ever talked to him like that. Not ever. But, instead of blowing up, Ryan chose to retreat back into his office. He wasn't about to let this bitch talk down to him like that. But he needed a chance to plan. Because if Ryan was good at one thing, it was using the rules to his advantage. And then this bitch would be sorry she ever dared to cross him.

The rest of the day passed suspiciously smoothly, Dixie thought. After Ryan's temper tantrums this morning she half expected him to go storming out of the building and make an even bigger ass of himself. But a few short hours after he locked himself in his office did he suddenly reemerge and started behaving perfectly civilly, almost like a real human being. He said please and thank you with every request. She was naturally suspicious of the man but she couldn't really prove anything was amiss... yet.

The other shoe dropped the moment six o'clock rolled by. Dixie had just logged out of her computer when Ryan had called out for her. "Just a moment if you please," he said with the nastiest grin on his face. "I just want to go over a few things with you, especially with us working together from now on."

The hell does he have up his sleeve? She wondered.

Ryan continued to smile like the Cheshire cat as he produced the employee handbook and started to read from it. "Per company rules, and I quote, 'All employees must adhere to strict guidelines regarding dress code.' Now I won't bore you with all the technical jargon but it boils down to this, secretaries on the executive level are not allowed to wear anything provocative. And I find those tattoo's of yours quite... enticing. Therefore I will have to recommend your immediate termination as you cannot possibly maintain the levels of professionalism required for this position."

Dixie was speechless. For a moment her mouth only flapped open and closed as she was stunned by Ryan's level of pure pettiness. Did this prick really...Dixie had no time to think as two burly building security guards entered the room and looked at Ryan.

"You called us Mr. Ricktor," one of the guards enquired.

Ryan has a smile a mile wide. "Oh yes gentleman. This young lady is no longer an employee of R&H. Please escort her off the premises, post haste." And with that Ryan turned on his heel and strode back into his office, shutting the door with a loud THUD.

Dixie was boiling at that point, and when one of the guards put a hand on her shoulder, she considered hauling off and slugging the poor bastard. But reason won out over anger and she merely shrugged off his hand before marching her herself off to the nearest elevator. She was silently stewing the whole ride down, especially with the two giant apes flanking her. They followed her all the way to her car and watched as she backed out and pulled off the lot. She waited until the building was no longer in her rear view mirror before pulling off into the nearest public parking lot. After several minutes of loud cursing, Dixie then pulled out her cellphone and made a call.

She tapped her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as her phone buzzed in her ear. "Come on, pick up, pick u-" With a beep, the phone connected to the other line and a sultry female voice answered on the other line. "Sup Dix. Didn't expect to hear from you until..." Dixie cut her off sharply, "Nevermind all that Zee, get the circle together. There's someone that needs to be taught a lesson."

"Dude, no you didn't!" The exclamations of Ryan's companions were boisterous and loud, but to be heard over the pounding bass and high treble of the strip clubs music demanded nothing less if you wanted to be heard. Ryan smiled before knocking back another shot of jack.

"Fuck yes I did it! If you think I was going to be stuck with some skinny mouthy bitch for my secretary, your fucking crazy! Dumbass didn't have anything smart to say either as security dumped her stupid fucking narrow ass out of my office." Ryan leaned back in the booth as he waved for the waitress to come and get him another round of drinks. "Dumb bitch. How a tatted up, stuck up waste of space like that ever got her ugly little butt in my office is beyond me. The whole HR team needs to be fired, let me tell you." Laughter and grunts of agreement followed his words.

Ryan was feeling damn good that evening. The booze was flowing, there was hot pussy shaking its butt on the stage and his buddies were kissing his ass. Now all he had to do was bring back a couple of strippers for a bang session at his place and the crappy start to his day would be completely reversed.

In the absence of Ryan's further elaborations on his apparent victory, his buddy Tim started up on his latest sexual conquest. "Oh man, dudes, I gotta tell you about this fucking bitch I nailed last night. Her name was... I don't fucking remember, but her tit's man! Out of this world. Were talking grade A, first class, world renowned titties. They were so big you could..."

Ryan was suddenly distracted from his buddy's story by a strange sound. It was faint but... if he concentrated he could hear the sound of chanting. Which was weird because it didn't match the techno beat of the current song. Ryan turned his head to see if someone was in the booth behind him but saw nothing. That's fucking weird. I wonder...

Ryan's line of thought was cut off by a lurching feeling in his stomach. His insides felt like they just jumped up to his mouth. He clamped a hand over his lips as a wave of nausea swept over him. His friends were too distracted by the latest dancer on stage to notice his behavior. The nausea passed, but a new feeling took its place, massive cramps that seized his entire lower torso. The pain was making his eye's water and then it got worse. It suddenly felt like his balls were being put in a vice and squeezed for all their worth. What the fuck is happening to me!?

The pain eased back enough that Ryan was able to get to his feet and shove his way past his friends toward the bathroom. "Jesus, Ryan what the fuck is your problem?" One of his buddies shouted as Ryan practically bowled the man over. Ryan didn't so much as spare him a glance as fresh waves of pain began crashing over his entire body this time. Ryan ran for the bathroom, almost knocking over one of the servers on his way there. "Dude, I think he shit his pants!" Someone called over his shoulder as he barreled his way to the restroom. As soon as he burst through the door, Ryan slammed it behind him and bolted it shut. He then ran to the sink and prepared for the worse. But while the pain certainly made him feel like he was about to throw up, he never did so.

Ryan took deep steady gulping breaths, trying to calm his nerves. Holy fuck, what did I drink? Have I been poisoned? Do I need to go to the hospital? Even in the depth of pain, Ryan couldn't help himself but think of a nice juicy lawsuit he could file on the owners if he caught something bad from here. He looked up at his reflection and what he saw did not fill him with confidence. He was pale and sweating with bright pink patches on his cheeks. What is going...

Ryan's current thought was cut off by a fresh wave of pain. This time it felt like his whole body was being squeezed by some giant invisible hand. His skin felt like it was burning hot and a series of loud cracking sounds emanated from various parts of his body. He started spasming and twitching as the pain made him black out entirely and his body collapsed to the floor.

Ryan wasn't sure for just how long he laid on that grimy bathroom floor, just that when consciousness found him again, there was someone pounding on the door outside. Thump, thump, thump. "Come on, hurry up in there! I gotta drain the fricken weasel!" Ryan grogally picked himself up off the floor. Thump, thump, thump. "Hey are you fricking dead in there or what, lets go!"

"Keep yer shirt on, you..." Ryan called out but suddenly stopped when he heard his voice. It was high pitched and almost squeaky. What the fuck was that? Ryan massaged his throat with his hand and tried again. "I'll be... gasp!!" Ryan's voice was still as high pitched as it had been. What is going on? Why do I sound...

From outside the door, the voice started up again. "Oh shit... Ah, gee sorry. I didn't realize this was the ladies room." Ryan stood shakily to his feet. He was about to respond by telling this guy to get his eyesight examined, when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and all other thoughts in his head ground to a screeching halt. He felt his eyes bulging in their sockets at what they saw. In the mirror, instead of the sleek, trim man that he was expecting to see, a small pretty girl with bright pink hair and brilliant blue eyes stared back from his reflection. See had a stunned look of disbelief on her face. She had on thick dark makeup and had painted her plump lips black. Her lashes were at least half an inch in length.

"Who the fuck are..." Ryan started but then everything felt like it was spinning. The whole world turned upside down and inside out for just a moment and Ryan screamed out in terror. And then suddenly everything was back to normal. Except... not at the same time. Now he was standing in a much larger room with lockers and vanity stations lining the walls. He himself was standing in front of a full length mirror. Except the person in that reflection was not Ryan, not by a long shot. She was short but busty with a narrow waist and perfectly curved hips. She was wearing thigh high stiletto boots, a g-string and the world's tiniest bikini top that just barely covered her nipples. She was also covered in tattoos up and down both arms and legs and across her stomach. Big silver hoop earrings hung from each of her lobes. As Ryan stood there trying to determine why there was someone else in his reflection, a harsh voice called out and broke across his line of thought.

"Hey Roxie! Get your fucking ass out on stage, your on!" A wide, hairy, meaty looking man called out in his direction. Before he knew what he was doing, Ryan heard himself answer back, "Keep your pants on Marv! Just making sure this damn g-string doesn't get swallowed by my butt again! Nothing less sexy than a stripper fishing a piece of string outta her ass during a show." The wide man snorted with laughter.

Ryan's body started moving of its own accord, heading toward a purple curtain. What is going on, what's happened to me!?!?

The next hour of his life was like something out of a dream. As he went through the curtain a voice announced, "And now, here she is! Our pride and joy down here at Lady Z's Pleasure Palace, the one, the only... Roxie Rockette!!" Ryan threw the curtains open with a flourish and then sashayed his way down the runways towards the main pole. A hard rock song started blaring from the speakers and Ryan's body started to move in ways he didn't know it could. It wiggled and shook its ways across the stage, presenting equal amounts of movement to its boobs and it did its ass. As the music blared on, he felt as if a thousand eyes were watching him. At one point, his body stopped its gyrating on stage and dropped on its hands and knees, crawling up to a group of patrons waving dollar bills at it.

Ryan was shocked when he saw that it was his own friends that were enticing his body over. He wanted to shout "Help! It's me! Get me off this crazy stage!" but his body would not respond as he wanted it to. Instead, it let his friend stuff dollars into her boots as it shook its tit's for all their worth. Humiliation and despair seemed to flow over him, but at the same time, he couldn't deny that this was all equally as exciting. His body seemed to be the center of attention of the whole club and he had to admit, he was liking the way it felt, just a little bit.

One song led to another and another. His body knew what to do with each successive number, moving and swaying, juking and jiving in all the right ways. By the end of the song, the crowd seemed to have been worked up into a frenzy and Ryan was starting to deeply enjoy watching their reactions. He was enjoying the way his body felt as it moved around the stage, the heft of his tits as they swayed to and fro. The jiggle of his ass as he shook it for all it's worth. Something warm was building in his body and while he didn't quite know what it was, he did know was that it felt good.

He wasn't quite sure how much time had passed, but eventually the music died down and his body started moving back toward the curtain. No! Not yet! I need more! Please, don't stop yet! His mental wishes seemed to have no affect on his body, but then a familiar voice called out to him. "Hey Rox. Feel like earning some overtime tonight?" His head shot around saw something that just completely shattered what little grasp of reality he had left. The person who had called out was... himself.

Confusion abounded in her broken mind as Roxie was looking at a perfect clone of Ryan. That was all she could think of what he could be anyways. It was her, or rather how she had been before... whatever had happened to her. Her mind felt completely blown apart, and trying to put it back together wasn't being helped by the fact that she was feeling ridiculously horny right now. "If that's me... then what am I?

Ryan was waving a fist full of hundred dollar bills in front of her face with a smirk that she recognized as being nothing but trouble. "Come on babe..." He said with cruel laughter edging his voice, "You know I pay good for a private show."