"Acme and Ecstasy" I walked up the stairs feeling anxious. The kind of jitters you get starting any new job. Even if the gig's just a phone-jockey temp job at ACME Telemarketing. I walked in the door. Four women, each wearing telephone headsets, looked up all at once --- and smiled. They seemed to think having a guy around might be fun. I wasn't so sure. One of them introduced me around, "This is Vicki... Ashley...Molly...and me... I'm Joan." "Hi, I'm Joe." I said, as I took a seat in front of a computer terminal. They seemed like a friendly bunch. Giving me pointers on how to handle calls as I sat watching them work. I knew the drill. I'd done work like this before. "Well, well, well, what have we here?" Asked a mirthless sing-song voice. It belonged to a tall blonde. She leaned against the wall of a lone cubicle. Acting like she owned the place. "I'm the new guy." I answered. "Get over here--- NOW." I scurried over as she stood there glaring at me. I couldn't move fast enough for her. She didn't say a word for five full seconds as I stood before her. She looked me up and down then asked: "The new guy have a name?" "Joe." More silence. A nameplate on the cubicle read `Barb'. Barb was big--- large: An hourglass figure on a grand frame. Her size had a bullying effect if you let it. I tried not to let it. A white loose-fitting turtleneck top, paired with a gray just-above-the-knee-length pleated skirt, hid her curves as much as possible. It was a tall order. She had plenty of curves to hide. This was her uniform. She had the parochial schoolgirl look nailed down tight--- until you got a load of those long sculptured legs. Standing barefoot in black nylon-stockings, a gold bracelet on one ankle--- she looked sexy in spite of herself. I stood there wondering what she'd look like in heels. She towered over me already. "From now on be here on time." She said. I'd made it there on time--- and I'm sure she knew it--- but I didn't argue. She waited for me to say something but I didn't. I just stood there. "Understand?" she asked. "Yes, Barb." She seemed to resent me calling her by name, or maybe she just resented me, period. She wasn't very happy. She fished a headset out of her desk drawer and thrust it at me, "Get back over there and get to work." I could feel her eyes still on me as I slunk back to my seat. Whew. "I hope Barb doesn't fire me my first night here." I told my new coworkers. "Barb's not the boss." Joan said. "She's a rep like the rest of us." "Really." I muttered, surprised. "She thinks she's hot shit but she isn't." Ashley added. "I'm about ready to lay into her right now." "Yeah, Joe, we'll protect you." Molly said, leaning over and patting my hand. "For a little quid pro quo under the table." (I wasn't sure I knew what she meant.) She leaned back and smiled like she'd said something witty then continued: "Barb'll keep dogging you for as long as you let her. She'll give you fits. You've got to stand up to her." "Don't take it personal, Joe." Joan said. "She's like that with everyone. She's in everybody's business. Try to ignore her if you can. We told Ella to give her that cubicle over there to keep her out of our hair. But it hasn't been working." "And neither has she." Ashley added. "She never takes any calls. She sits in there reading magazines. Ella should get rid of her. Ella's the real boss. She'll be here any minute." *** We each handled a few calls apiece and I felt like I`d really settled in by the time Ella arrived. Ella's presence commanded my attention as she marched directly to her office down a short hall across from the break room. She was petite, about 50, and very attractive. Her lean, tan, and well-toned body moved with graceful certainty. Her slyly conservative style was simple yet elegant in a dark blue tailored suit, sheer stockings and black patent leather pumps. Her clothes fit her body in a way that enhanced her assets. They were snug --not tight--skirt short but not TOO short. And heels just shy of standard-issue dominatrix. She stressed the limits of "office professional" dress in a way that oozed confidence and feminine power; I found it very stimulating. My reaction did not go unnoticed by the girls. "Think she's hot or something?", asked Molly with a grin. Joan chimed in with, "Don't wet yourself, Joe." They all chuckled. Vicki was the wallflower of the group. Maybe because she was so much younger than the rest of us at 21. She just smiled. But Ashley had to crack wise, "Maybe Joe hasn't `gotten any' lately. I thought his eyes would pop out when she walked by." "Very funny. You guys are a regular laugh riot." I said. "Don't worry about what I'm getting or not getting. I just happened to glance up when the door opened. That's all. No big deal." I felt embarrassed that they could so easily see through me. Then Molly asked, in that smug way of hers, playing to the crowd, "Maybe you did "just glance up" or maybe you didn't "just glance up". What I'd like to know is would you go DOWN?"" Vicki seemed uneasy. The other's all laughed. I couldn't believe the things that came out of Molly's mouth. She was the mother two college-age kids and looked like a 60's `Sitcom Mom'--- and this is how she talked? The others too... Barb stepped out of her cubicle and said, "Is that all you guys do is run your mouths? You should use your downtime studying manuals so your ad libs won't totally be bullshit." And walked into Ella's office. I started leafing through a manual, ignoring Molly. She didn't really expect an answer from me, did she? "Well, Joe?" Molly looked at me like elementary school teacher prompting a dull pupil. "Would you?" She wanted me on the hot seat. She was enjoying herself. I could see it was all in fun but still... I felt myself getting red. Trying to regain my composure I restated the question plainly, hoping to call her bluff and get her to back off, "Do you mean, `Would I go down on Ella'?" I asked, looking right at her. Thinking she'd laugh it off and let it go once I stood up to her. "Yeah, Joe." Molly asked deliberately, staring straight at me. "Would you... go down ...on Ella?" Giggles all around. Damn. I'd let myself get talked into a corner. The truth is I'd go down on any one of them in a second, even bossy Barb -with those long legs of hers why not? But saying so out loud was a bit much. Ella, I felt, deserved better. She had class. I didn't like making her the topic of gossip. But if I lied, first of all - they would know I was lying (and therefore I'd be kidded mercilessly because of it) and second -- they would be getting over on me: making the man back down. That never happens in mixed work places. Guys always get the upper hand in terms of sexual talk and general vulgarity. So I did what I had to do. I answered honestly. "Yes. I would." I said. "I'd go down on Ell-ah..." a warm hand appeared on my shoulder. I was so distracted I hadn't heard Ella walk out of her office. She was right behind me. She bent over; put her cheek to my ear and whispered, "'Nice to know you care." The girls-except Barb- all howled. Even Vicki. Then Ella straightened up and things got quiet. She said, "If you slackers are finished hazing the new guy...." She then led me by the hand to the break room as I, dumbly, followed. *** The break room consisted of three tables, a refrigerator, and a long counter containing a sink, a microwave oven and a coffee maker. "Well, Joe, I'm Ella. As I am sure you know. And I'm the boss around here. One of the perks of being the boss is never having to fetch your own coffee. Unfortunately, one of the drawbacks of being the new guy is, you are the one that does the fetching. But, then again... maybe you like to fetch.", she looked at me without smiling. Raising her eyebrows slightly. "I don't mind." I said, feeling trapped. These women had my number; I was on the verge of panic. When Ashley said that maybe I hadn't gotten any in a while she was right. Lately I filled my time with getting back on my feet after the divorce and bankruptcy. Getting laid barely entered my mind. Standing next to this confident and extremely attractive woman, as she looked into my eyes and casually insinuated vaguely sexual suggestions, especially after she heard me say I wanted to go down on her - it was almost too much. I hadn't had such an intensely sexually interpersonal experience since...when? I about popped my cork right there. Pathetic but true. "I can make coffee." I continued. Trying to sound casual and not quite getting there. "Good. Very good, Joe." Ella said. She was having fun. "Make sure you clean everything every time you make a new pot. And be sure to rinse the soap off. I get angry when I taste soap in my coffee. You don't want me to be angry, do you, Joe?" "No." I sounded like a sheep in spite of myself. I may as well have said "Baa". "We haven't had a man around here in quite a while." Ella said. "I really don't know how I ever made do." She paused, looking me in straight in the eye, but level, trying not to scare me, just wondering if I caught her drift. I think I did. What was I getting into? The sudden stimulation of my repressed male urges now marked me as fair game for these female antics. I couldn't conceal my feelings. I gave all of them an object for their feminine wiles to act on. I was being toyed with. I was their plaything. It was disorienting and I felt helpless--- but I liked it. As I cleaned the pot at the sink Ella stood close beside me, watching. She rested her hand against the small of my back. Her breast pressed against my arm. Her faint and delicate scent was noticeable only now, this close, as it softly tugged my mind toward thoughts of her feminine essence. Very subtle. I liked that. It soothed me. Her whole manner took on a soothing tone. Implying intimacy within the Boss/worker framework. She played me. Sounding me out. Seeing if I wanted to go along with her game. Warming me up for something more than I bargained for. "You're doing just fine, dear", she said, sliding the flat of her hand down my pants. Hooking her thumb in my back pocket. Cupping my ass in the palm of her hand. "Brew it strong and when it's done bring me a cup." "Yes, ma'am." "Drop the "ma'am." Call me Ella. I'm the boss, I call the shots--- we both know it--- there's no need to be formal." "Okay, Ella." "That's better. I like a man that knows how to take instruction." She gave my ass a brief squeeze of approval "We'll put that quality to good use." She said, then left. I stood savoring the past few moments in my mind and wondered if I was becoming a male bimbo. I pushed it out of my mind. There couldn't be such a thing--- not with the old double standard, right? If I let Ella have her way with me, well, I was still getting mine wasn't I? Even if I only went down on her, still I was getting my own satisfaction. I couldn't be called a bimbo for that could I? No. Only chicks were bimbos. Not guys. Ella's office was a small room not much bigger than a long cubicle. Her L shaped desk filled all but 18 inches of the width. Her desk faced the door so as I came in I stood directly across the desk from her. I sat the cup down in front of her and was about to walk out when she told me to sit down. I sat in one of the two chairs available that were in front of her desk. "Not there," she said, "There." Indicating a spot on the floor against the wall on her side of the desk. This was getting interesting. She sipped her coffee as she sat back and extended her right leg so that her foot was inches in front of my chest. "Do the honors." she said, flexing her heel toward me for emphasis. My position furnished the perfect line of sight for viewing her glorious form. God, I wanted to kiss every inch of it. I stilled myself against the urge inside me. As I removed her shoe she said, "I've been on my feet all day. I need a good foot rub." She made it seem like the most natural thing in the world. She could do that. Make things seem the way she wanted them to be. Still, my loins churned as I held her foot. So small. I closed my eyes and held my breath. Its delicate proportions belied a supple power that revealed itself to my touch. A perfect blend of strength and grace. I looked up at her aloofly relaxing with her coffee. She ruled. Domination was not my thing and neither was foot fetishism but my cock was now rock-hard and throbbing and about to spew. If she wants a clit-licking right now I'm going pass out, I thought. "Is the odor alright?" she asked. "It's fine." I could barely grunt an answer. "You can't smell it from there." She pressed the pad of her foot against my mouth so that her toes were across my nose. "Now?" She asked, toying with me. She was enjoying it. "Ph-fine." I answered. I was losing it. Turning her face toward the ceiling, she leaned back, closed her eyes and asked, "Yes, but how does it taste?" I groaned under my breath. I actually GROANED. I kissed the bottom of her foot and I think I said, "Fine." again. But I can't be sure. "You can't taste it like that. You need to lick." As my mouth opened to obey, she looked directly at me, slid down in her chair and jammed her foot in me. Her toes lodged in the back of my throat, wiggling to work totally into me, eager to achieve full penetration. She was a Diva ballerina standing on point and that point had me pinned and sprawling on the wall. I launched my load. On cue, Barb flung open the door, "It's getting busy out here are you about done with Joe?" she growled before she saw me. The sight then registered. She slammed the door and walked away. "I have got to do something about that girl." Ella sighed while collecting herself. She withdrew her foot and released me. "You'd better get back on the phones." Somehow I got to my feet. As I reached the door Ella came up behind me and whispered, "We'll continue our little taste test later... with the main entree." To be continued...