[Open] Call Center of Evil
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Light =&gt; Light: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: GloomCookie on 18-03-2022, 04:15:44</h2>
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				Title: <strong>[Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>GloomCookie</strong> on <strong>18-03-2022, 04:15:44</strong>
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				Link to the interest/recruitment thread: https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=340498.0 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=340498.0)<br><br><hr><br><span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: times new roman;" class="bbc_font">Located in the foothills of █████████████ lies an office building. Standing four stories tall, the building is modern and sleek looking, with the large letters of LIVE CORP. on the side. The building is surrounded by a large black asphalt parking lot and looks like a normal building. There are cars of various types parked outside, the lights come on at night, and to anyone who didn't know better, it was just a very busy place.<br><br>After entering the lobby, each employee scans their badge and presses the appropriate floor twice, going underground to the basement levels. Here, the true face of the EVIL CORP lives. After passing through a security check that involves a finger prick to draw a small sample of blood, each employee is then allowed to their cubical. Each cubical is approximately 5 feet (1.6 meters) by 5 feet (1.6 meters), and allows just enough privacy to let them feel they're not being watched at all times (though they completely are). Some employees have pictures of kittens or inspiration, others of their families, while the supervisors hang their instruments of torture like cat-o-nine-tails, cattle prods, and pictures of Harvey Weinstein. <br><br>The breakroom features comfortable chairs and has the basic office break room appliances, such as a toaster, coffee machine, refrigerator, and open fire pit for cooking. There's no air conditioning to the room so it gets very toasty, with signs around the room with helpful phrases such as "You will not be paid for passing out from heat stroke, drink plenty of water." The restrooms are decorated with green and white tiles with a continuous flowing hand washing station and each stall equipped with an EVIL CORP brand Waste Extractor Tendril on a 5 minute timer, giving each employee time to do their business before the tendril does it for them. Cell phone signals are of course blocked as are most social media sites such as Facebook and LinkedIn, though employees can use the EVIL CORP Shriek™ App to send each other messages, so long as they're comfortable having said message bellowed by what sounds like a love child between Wilfred Brimley and Alex Jones.<br><br>Welcome to EVIL CORP.</span></span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nowherewoman</strong> on <strong>20-03-2022, 05:40:11</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cd/73/a7/cd73a732bf24b4f2f5d76d1e8eff7c64.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Mariska Moon<br><strong>Age:</strong> 26<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Lesbiflexiaggressive<br><strong>Position:</strong><del>scissor</del> Operator<br><br><em>"ThankyouforcalingEvilCorpwedevalueallofourcustomerspleaseholllld-"</em> Mariska pressed the button with a firm click. Her times were getting better, at least for the scripted intro. She always seemed to be behind on the rest, but that was in part because she got every screwloose, wackjob, and nutter routed to her phone. That was to say, anyone who had ever done business with Evil Corp. So, in preparation for the shitstorm she knew she would be facing...she made them wait.<br><br>For a long count of thirteen, while she went about composing her newest Twilight fanfic in her head. She was already up to page five hundred and twenty-three, and Edward had just been jumped by a gang of werewolves, who were forcefully teaching him what 'Ow!&nbsp; Wrong hole!' meant. The arrogant prick. They were both dumb cunts, Bella and him, but at least she was cute. Cute, but dumb A.F.- of all the guys to choose from, if she had to choose a guy at all, you know, to break a real bad dry spell, or something, to fall for<strong> that</strong>...?<br><br><em>Click.</em> "Thank you for holding." She didn't rush, now. In fact, she pitched her voice lower than her usual alto, and spoke slowly. If she didn't, sure as shit she'd get some old biddy who'd forgotten to change the battery in her hearing aid. "How can I help you?"&nbsp; She listened for a few seconds, staring at her ebon-glossed nails, then stifled a snort of laughter. "Well, that certainly isn't usual behavior. One moment while I refer to the correct manual...here we are. Can you give me the model number of the cat, please, sir?" Dumb fuck. Evil Corp didn't <em>sell</em> cats. Not intact, anyway. Some of their award-winning snack food was suspect, and some of the stuffed toys were rumored to have begun their unlife as the animals they resembled...but it was a Catch-22. She couldn't tell the guy he had the wrong number without getting in trouble, so instead she'd get in trouble for being on a call for too long answering questions about a product they didn't handle.&nbsp; Whatever. It was a job.<br><br>"Oh, I see." Eyeroll, expressive, Mk. 23. "So it's the Brimstone Outdoor Grill you're having a problem with, not your feline companion. So sorry. I thought...no...yes...no, sir. I'm afraid the whole intention of a grill of that sort is to set things on fire. It's hot, you know. So it's not a product fault." More natter rattled against her ear, while she snuck a look across the aisle to the next cubicle, to see if Lia was in today. Lia wore very short skirts, and crossed her very long legs a whole lot. "No, sir, I'm very sorry for your loss, but Evil Corp can't be held responsible for your cat jumping up on your Brimstone while it was unatten...you what?"<br><br>What the ACTUAL- "He looked cold. So you put him on...no, sir. That violates the terms of use of your Brimstone grill, so it is not a warranty issue. Pretty sure you've fucked the warranty on the cat, though. <em>ThankyouforcallingEvilCorpwedepreciateyourbusinessandhaveaniceday</em> FUCK you, jackass." She'd hung up before the last bit. She was pretty sure. Not that she really cared. Annnnd...the timer said she was .07 seconds over.<br><br>Ugh. Edward was going to be walking funny for a month after <strong>that </strong>call.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueOrange</strong> on <strong>20-03-2022, 15:52:16</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://www.pngkey.com/png/full/889-8891004_calling-girl-png-call-center-girl-png.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Belinda Taylor<br><strong>Age:</strong> 22<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Ambitious Workaholic<br><strong>Position:</strong> Agent (Outbound Voice)<br><br>She took a drink from her water bottle. The last call had gone well. It was satisfying to be climbing the ranks, working on the queues where they needed someone with skill. Someone persuasive and charming, not just another drone to read the script. And then came the beep. She quickly scanned the script for the essentials while her trained reflexes kicked in. “Hi, my name is Belinda Taylor, I’d like to speak to Robert Smallwood please.”<br><br>She gave his answer her absolute, fullest attention, but there was no place for it in her memory. Only the entry into the computer and the next question, those were the things that mattered.<br><br>“Excellent. Final Solutions Incorporated are conducting a survey to help them improve their customer service. It takes about ten minutes, would you be willing to help with that?”<br><br>“Thank you very much. Firstly, with the contract you requested, was it a single target contract for an individual person or other entity possessing one corporeal form, or was it a multi-target contract for more than one person, or for an entity with multiple corporeal presences?”<br><br>“When it comes to the process of setting up the contract, how would you rate the efficiency of the agent who took your details, on a scale from zero to ten, where zero is not at all satisfied, and ten is extremely satisfied?”<br><br>“And with the accuracy of their work?”<br><br>“I see. And is there a particular reason why you gave them that rating?”<br><br>“And when you say ‘wrong target’, could you elaborate on that please?”<br><br>“And how did you feel after they killed your wife, instead of killing your ex-wife?”<br><br>“I’m afraid I’m not allowed to comment on anything you’ve said, or to suggest answers on your behalf. I can certainly imagine how I would feel, but the purpose of the survey is to ask for your answers.”<br><br>“And how would you rate the agent’s friendliness, on the zero to ten scale?”<br><br>“And moving on to the execution of the contract, how satisfied were you with the execution in terms of timeliness?”<br><br>“How satisfied with the amount of pain experienced by the target?”<br><br>“Was the contract intended to send a message to a third party?”<br><br>“And in terms of payment, how would you rate the convenience of the payment options that were provided?”<br><br>“And with the discretion of those payment options?”<br><br>“And to what extent did you feel that the price was good value, using the zero to ten scale?”<br><br>“Now I have formed an impression about your likely answer to this question, but I need to ask how likely you would be to recommend Final Solutions to a friend or associate?”<br><br>“And so that we have your answer on record, why is that?”<br><br>“Well, that brings us to the end of the survey. Thank you <em>so much</em> for your time. In case you missed it, my name is Belinda. In case my supervisor needs to check on my work, can I please confirm that I spoke to Richard?”<br><br>“Thanks very much once again, I hope you have a <em>great</em> night.”<br><br>She felt good about that call. At the beginning, Richard had seemed sad and confused. But by the end, he seemed way more focused and energized. It was amazing, the impact she could have by truly listening to people, and letting the computer be the one who remembers what they said.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chi</strong> on <strong>20-03-2022, 18:29:59</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/Y8ShyBD.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Tserin Oakley<br><strong>Age:</strong> 19<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Heteroflexible<br><strong>Position:</strong> New hire Operator<br><br>Totally stoked for her first day at work at EVIL CORP, Tserin was relieved when Dave, apparently one of the supervisors, left her alone.&nbsp; The guy was like <em>uber</em> creepy!&nbsp; It was hard to tell what he looked like, what with his Elton John-sized Coke-bottle glasses, and the fact that he was always wiping sweat off of his brow with a soaked handkerchief.&nbsp; ‘Lumpy’ was a good word to describe him, not just his face, but his body too, he wasn’t <em>in</em> shape, though his body was made up of many shapes.&nbsp; None of them were at all appealing.<br><br>The fact that Dave kept trying to look down her top was not lost on the nineteen-year-old, and she felt like she’d been slimed after he left.&nbsp; Flipping through her support manual she waited for her first call, though that didn’t take long at all!<br><br>The click in her headpiece alerted her that her line was live and she plastered a bright smile on her face, despite the fact that the person on the other end couldn’t see it. “Thank you for calling Packard-Hell tech support, Tserin speaking, how may I help you?” she said in a way too cheery and bright voice.<br><br>Pausing for a moment she tapped away at her keyboard as the person spoke, “Hmmmm… okaaay… huh. AH! Here we go! Mr. Neal, right? Bob Neal? And your telephone number is still 999-666-6969, right? Oh good, great! So how can I help you, Mister Neal?” Tserin continued in her happy chirp.&nbsp; “Oh. Hmmm, let me get this straight Mister Neal.&nbsp; You’re having trouble with your 3-½” floppy dick? Well, have you tried Viag--” She was interrupted by a scream that could be heard in several other cubicles.&nbsp; Blushing she did her best to recover, “My apologies Mr. Neal, I misheard you.&nbsp; Yes of course, your floppy <em>disc</em>!&nbsp; Now, what exactly is happening?”<br><br>Tserin’s eyes grew wide as she listened in rapt attention as Mr. Bob Neal explained in fine detail what was going on with his floppy dick -- err DISC!&nbsp; “Wow, like do you mean it’s just mangling them or what?” The cute redhead asked as she started flipping frantically through the 666-page support manual.&nbsp; “Huh, you do realize that 3-½” floppy dicks…ahh discs went out the window way before I was born, right?”&nbsp; Another tirade blasted her ear and she apologized profusely… again!&nbsp; “No no it was a slip-up, I meant dicks -- ACK discs!!!”&nbsp; Shaking her head she nodded and tried to maintain that syrupy smile though it was wavering.&nbsp; “You wanted the floppy dick… <em>DISC</em> because you have an old shareware copy of Doom.&nbsp; What’s shareware?”&nbsp; A few more nods as she scrambled with the book to try and find a solution.&nbsp; “And Doom, what's that, aside from the feeling I’m having right now?&nbsp; Oh, it’s a gaaaame!&nbsp; Like Halo or Battlefront!&nbsp; Gotcha!”<br><br>Finally finding the page she skimmed it briefly and chuckled.&nbsp; “Okay Mister Neal, Unfortunately, we do not warranty floppy dicks… EEP …<em>discs!</em> But what I do suggest is that you call in your local Catholic priest and have him perform an exorcism on your computer.&nbsp; Thank you for calling Packard-Hell tech support! G’bye!” &lt;click&gt;<br><br>“Damn, that was weird, I sure hope <em>that</em> call wasn’t recorded!”<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>GloomCookie</strong> on <strong>22-03-2022, 13:29:58</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: times new roman;" class="bbc_font">Grady McKnobb was a man that had a fuse shorter than most, somewhere in the nanometer territory. His job was to go around the floor and just remind the employees they had no hope of advancement, of leaving, things like that. Well, officially his job was to actually just push around a cart full of office supplies and pick up things for people, but he didn't do that very often. He started at Mariska's desk, the wheel of his cart catching on the corner of her cubical and causing the wall to shake. It was no secret he fancied Mariska. Not that Mariska actually needed to see or feel the wheel catching, as his cheap cologne almost gave him away from an aisle over. He was fat, balding, had glasses thicker than battleship armor, had a nasaly voice that sounded like he shoved tampons up his nose, and breathed through his mouth in a way that you could hear him easily. His shirt was white but had faded stains that no amount of washing or even bleaching could fix, his pants were brown plaid, and he wore suspenders because he couldn't find a belt big enough to go around his waist. <br><br>"Huh, hi Mariska," he said, having heard her end the previous call. "I uh, was wondering if you'd like to uh... go in the copy room and let me feel up those tits? Heh heh heh." </span></span><br><br><hr><br><span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: times new roman;" class="bbc_font">Sam Cunningham was in the next cubical to Belinda and stood up to stretch, catching the tail end of the call in the process. She poked her head around the cubical wall and listened, waiting for Belinda to get off the call before asking, "I don't get how you can sound so perky and cheerful all the time. Is there a secret? Because honestly, when they call up bitching and moaning, I just want to hang up on them or tell them off." She stifled a yawn and nodded her head towards the breakroom, "Anyway, wanna take a break with me and grab some coffee? I don't like going alone after Margaret in Accounting passed out from heat stroke last week."<br><br>Sam was tall at 6'-2", with dark red hair that bordered on brown. Her face was lightly freckled, and she wore a black t-shirt with "Gold's Gym" on it, hugging her toned form. She had a special exemption from HR that let her wear it since, in her words, "Finding a blouse to fit me is an absolute bitch". She wore professional looking pants, and a pair of combat boots because there was no policy in the handbook to prohibit them. She was also openly lesbian, and there were rumors she had the key to a storage closet where she liked to take the ladies she fancied.</span></span><br><br><hr><br><span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: times new roman;" class="bbc_font">"Unfortunately, they are," came a voice from behind Tserin.<br><br>Behind her was a man in a light blue shirt and darker blue tie, leaning against the cubical. His lanyard said "Tom Hest, Training &amp; Support". He sipped his coffee and stepped further into the cubical, extending his hand, "Tom, I'm your trainer. Though, from appearances, it seems limp-dick Dave left you alone to deal with your first day without any support."<br><br>He sat on the edge of her desk, setting his cup of coffee down and taking on the air of someone who was about to give a lecture. "So, that first call had a few... issues. I'm sorry that you were thrown on your own and you seemed to do ok, except you seemed rather fixated on dick for some reason. I hope that it was just a slip up and not something you'll be obsessing over." <br><br>Unlike Dave, Tom was pretty good looking. Average height and build but he made up for it with short black hair and emerald green eyes with a handsome face. He focused on Tserin's face, not her body, and seemed to be watching her face for her reaction to his last statement. She could feel his eyes boring into her, and a pressure on the back of her mind, like a mild headache trying to form.</span></span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chi</strong> on <strong>22-03-2022, 15:15:12</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/Y8ShyBD.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Tserin Oakley<br><strong>Age:</strong> 19<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Heteroflexible<br><strong>Position:</strong> New hire Operator<br><br>Tserin spun around in surprise and her face crumpled from the strained smile she’d held onto to the last second with her first call.&nbsp; “Ugh, I’m so dead, I’ll probably get fired after taking one freaking call!” she said in despair.&nbsp; Her smile did return when Tom had said he was her trainer, finally, maybe someone who didn’t creep her out and who could help her from fucking up even more!&nbsp; “Ah, hi. I’m Tserin, pronounced like that nerve toxin… Uhm, Tserin Oakley.&nbsp; God that guy was like the definition of weird and creepy, am I right?”<br><br>The pretty young redhead blushed down past the collar of her blouse and ducked her head in embarrassment when he mentioned that there were some issues in her call.&nbsp; Tom was a good looking guy, in an average sort of way, but not repulsive like that Dave guy.&nbsp; Oh god!!&nbsp; He’d <em>heard</em> her?!?!&nbsp; Poor Tserin’s blush only deepened.&nbsp; “Um, eeyeah… I mean NO! No, I’m not fixated on dick.&nbsp; But-- but look at his account name!” She said as she pointed at the screen, directing Tom to the name field on the man’s account.<br><br><strong>Bob N. Neal</strong><br><br>“C’mon, like really?” she said as she tried to suppress a giggle.&nbsp; “It just kinda happened.&nbsp; I’m not <em>obsessed</em> with <em>dick</em>.&nbsp; I mean I <em>like</em> it, don’t get me wrong…”&nbsp; That’s when her blush hit her harder than it had ever hit her and she put her face on her desk and let out a little sob of mortification.&nbsp; “Just kill me, kill me now… Please?” She muttered dramatically.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueOrange</strong> on <strong>24-03-2022, 05:24:30</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://www.pngkey.com/png/full/889-8891004_calling-girl-png-call-center-girl-png.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Belinda Taylor<br><strong>Age:</strong> 22<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Ambitious Workaholic<br><strong>Position:</strong> Agent (Outbound Voice)<br><br>“It’s because I’m actually happy,” Belinda smiled at Sam. “Which is a fuckton easier when you’re doing outbound market research jobs, I can tell you that. Nobody expects <em>me</em> to fix shit. Which is good, because oh my god, shit is fucked pretty much all the time.” She shrugged. “You either laugh about it, or you end up like Terry.” She tilted her head to indicate the cubicle on the other side.<br><br>Did she feel like taking a break? Her water bottle was nearly empty. “Sure, she said, and smoothly navigated the menus on her computer: not ready-&gt;break-&gt;hydration-&gt;non-emergency. A timer appeared, filling the entire screen with a countdown that was in a font that was quite difficult to read: <strong>8:13</strong> was where it started, for reasons Belinda didn’t try to understand. “Let’s call it seven minutes?” <br><br>Climbing out of her chair, Belinda rose to her full height of 5’8”, which would have been three inches less without the heels on her <div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header"> classy but dressy work shoes.</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://clarks.scene7.com/is/image/Pangaea2Build/db-journal-best-heels-2-fw-wk45-aw20?wid=1100&amp;fmt=pjpeg)</div></div>. White stockings contrasted nicely with those, leading up to a deep blue pencil skirt that was (literally) straight out of the examples in the employee manual. Then a casual blouse, and a very carefully done ‘girl next door’ makeup job to complete the look. All in all, there should be something there to please any supervisor who took an interest in her appearance.<br><br>Walking or standing next to Sam always felt a bit awkward, though. Something about having those magnificent breasts at eye level was a bit embarrassing, especially since they were always straining against the fabric. <em>God, I’m such a hypocrite</em> Belinda scolded herself. It’s not as if she wasn’t wearing a push-up bra; combine that with the top button being ‘missing’ from her blouse, and a great many people at work would look down past her eyes. She sighed, there was no sense being stupid about shit and driving herself crazy.<br><br><em>Grady’s being more persistent than usual</em> she observed, and walked straight past, completely confident in Mariska’s ability to handle herself. And then at the end of the row, the new girl was getting coached by what’s-his-name, the good-looking one. New girl was clearly having a rough time, though, and that spelled opportunity.&nbsp; Belinda leaned over towards <strong>Tserin</strong>, put a hand on her shoulder, and said. “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands. He’s one of the best we have, let him in and you’ll be OK.” She looked at Tom for a moment, nodded, then turned and walked briskly towards the kitchen before Tom or Tserin had a chance to see that she was about to burst out laughing.
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nowherewoman</strong> on <strong>24-03-2022, 14:04:06</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cd/73/a7/cd73a732bf24b4f2f5d76d1e8eff7c64.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Mariska Moon<br><strong>Age:</strong> 26<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Lesbiflexiaggressive<br><strong>Position:</strong><del>scissor</del> Operator<br><br>If Mariska had needed more proof that life was, literally, Hell, well. There it was. Lia wasn't in, but she could hear Sam and Belinda nattering down the row- she'd do either of them in a second, especially Sam. New Kid, a totes humpable ginger, was talking to Trainer Dude who, for a guy, was completely acceptable ride. Both he and Sam were gonna get a leg over, for sure, leaving Mar in the cold again. Meanwhile she got...<br><br>Grady.<br><br>Oh, she was used to the guys lecching on her; not that she was All That in the looks department- went out of the way not to be, hiding a trim body and decent enough features under a load of Caught In The Rain Goth- but she had tits and holes, and for most males that was all it took. Hell, for some of them the tits were optional. For months after she'd been hired, Barney, one of the Security check-in guys, had made a big hah-hah out of threatening her with a strip search every time she came in. She'd finally shut that down by, rather than using the lancet for the weekly blood draw, biting hard on the tip of her own tongue and spitting in the vial, then offering him a big wet kiss. Squicked him right the fuck out. Of course, it turned his partner Leroy on something awful, so she was back to square one, as usual. But you took your victories one at a time. Hadn't some smart dude said that? Someone who hadn't worked in a call center in a sub-sub basement?<br><br>Then there was Grady. Leroy was at least in good shape. Grady was...Grady. Annnd there went Sam and Belinda, headed for the break room, probably for a hot, wet moment. Dammit. Well, at least Grady's lumpy form didn't hide the luscious rear view as the pair went by. And Sam was tall enough<em> nothing</em> could hide her superstructure...that profile!&nbsp; Evil Corp should sell <strong>that.</strong> They'd make mint.<br><br>"Hey, Knobster," she cooed. "I just read this cool article. You know, way back in the day, they thought headaches were caused by evil spirits pounding to get out?&nbsp; Weird shit, huh?&nbsp; They used to drill holes in people's heads to let them out. Kill or cure, kill or cure." Grinning darkly she picked up the tooth-marked stub of her pencil. "Think if I poke a hole in your face, the headache that is you will fly up, up and away?"<br><br>For once she was glad the phone rang. The one leather-and-cuffs-bound rule was: you do NOT interrupt CS calls. Not even if the building was falling down and bursting into flames and being invaded by dragons. <em>Especially </em>then. So it got her off the hook with Grady. For a few, at least.<br><br>"ThankyouforcallingEvilCorphowmayIdeflectyourcalllll?"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>GloomCookie</strong> on <strong>25-03-2022, 06:52:11</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: times new roman;" class="bbc_font">Tom sipped his coffee and shrugged, "I mean, I can kill you no problem, I'm authorized to do that, but seems a bit severe for a small faux pas. Tell ya what, at the end of the week if you still feel like dying, I'll take you to the execution chamber and help you fill out the forms." His deadpan expression hinted at a dark sense of humor, the kind that was almost perfect for someone like Mariska. He glanced over his shoulder when Belinda appeared and offered words of encouragement to Tserin, and Tom took a moment to give Sam a friendly smile. "How are you doing today, Sam?"<br><br>"Oh, not too bad Tom. Though you should stop scaring the new people." Sam carefully leaned on the wall of the cubical, lest she accidentally knock it down on poor Tserin. <br><br>Tom was about to respond when he noted Grady's fat ass near Mariska's desk, and he sighed. "Excuse me ladies," he said with a smile before heading towards Mariska's desk. He got there just in time to hear Mariska's mention of drilling a hole in Grady's head, and to see his reaction.<br><br>Grady took a long, long moment to process this information, and finally said, "You really believe dumb shit like that? Next you'll say something stupid like we actually went to the moon. I can't stand stupid bitches like you." He turned and walked off, muttering to himself and wheezing a bit from exertion. He never noticed Tom.<br><br>Tom, seeing the situation in hand, returned to Tserin and waited for Belinda and Sam to finish welcoming Tserin aboard.<br><br>Meanwhile, for Mariska, the person on the end of the line said, "Hi, I need to file a complaint. I ordered a penis pump from your company and when I went to use it, it had spikes all around the edge and it hurt like hell trying to pump up my penis. I needed stitches! This product is obviously very dangerous and I want a refund and reimbursement for the visit to the ER and the three stitches I had to get in my scrotum!"</span></span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chi</strong> on <strong>26-03-2022, 20:01:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/Y8ShyBD.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Tserin Oakley<br><strong>Age:</strong> 19<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Heteroflexible<br><strong>Position:</strong> New hire Operator<br><br>Tserin’s eyes went wide and she was wondering if Tom was serious.&nbsp; She quickly said, “N-no!&nbsp; I was… It was just a figure of speech.&nbsp; I’m good, so no death for me thanks!”&nbsp; Tserin paused for a moment and asked hurriedly, “They don’t really kill people here… Do they?”<br><br>Jumping a little when <strong>Belinda</strong> Put her hand on the newb’s shoulder, Tserin almost squeaked, but reined that in thankfully!&nbsp; So many surprises, so much weirdness.&nbsp; Way too much for her to process within the first ten minutes at her new job.&nbsp; The interviewer had <em>not</em> hinted at promises of death, horribly repulsive guys (except for Tom!) and weird headaches out of nowhere.<br><br>“Oh! H-hi, thanks.&nbsp; Yes sure, I’ll do my best to remember that… uhh.” The other girl had breezed past and Tserin wasn’t even sure the girl had heard a word she’d said.&nbsp; “Wow…” Tserin said as she finally caught a look at <strong>Sam</strong> and wondered exactly just how tall the woman was, and what they fed her, fearing the answer would be <em>noobers!</em>&nbsp; “Jesus, you’re freakin’ tall.&nbsp; OH!&nbsp; Sorry, my brain sometimes has a direct line to my mouth, ma’am!&nbsp; Hi, I’m Tserin… Tserin Oakley.” The pretty, under-tall ginger said as she fumbled with her badge on her lanyard to show the taller woman, wondering to herself if maybe by holding hit up like a priest would a cross it would keep the seriously muscular woman from eating her like an hors d'oeuvre.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueOrange</strong> on <strong>27-03-2022, 17:33:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><div class="floatleft">(https://www.pngkey.com/png/full/889-8891004_calling-girl-png-call-center-girl-png.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Belinda Taylor<br><strong>Age:</strong> 22<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Ambitious Workaholic<br><strong>Position:</strong> Agent (Outbound Voice)<br><br>Belinda was too busy chuckling to herself about that whole business with Tserin and Tom to notice that she was leaving Sam behind, at least at first. There was something she just loved about pretending to help. She had no idea who Tom was, let alone whether he was any good. But that wasn’t the point! The point was that Tom was likely to be pleased about what Belinda had said. And if Tserin made it through her first few days (always doubtful), then it’s likely that Tom wasn’t complete garbage, and therefore Tserin would seem wise and well-connected. Of course, it was possible that Tom was completely awful; in which case Belinda would probably never see Tserin again. Belinda couldn’t lose.<br><br>She went to the urn and pressed the lever, but no water came out. Opening the top, she saw that it was empty again. The company could have shelled out for a hot water tap that was connected straight to the plumbing, but no, they had this stupid urn that needed refilling all the time. While refilling the urn, she chatted with Victoria. “How many have you done?”<br><br>“Six,” Victoria replied. “You?”<br><br>“Four,” Belinda grumbled. “I got put on hold for ten minutes by a guy who didn’t finish.”<br><br>Victoria chuckled, “Who’d have thought you’d be here complaining about a man who takes a long time and doesn’t finish!”<br><br>“I know, right,” Belinda replied. The urn was full enough for a couple of cups of water now. Belinda wasn’t going to fill it further because she wanted to be sure the water would boil before her break was over.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nowherewoman</strong> on <strong>30-03-2022, 22:28:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cd/73/a7/cd73a732bf24b4f2f5d76d1e8eff7c64.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Mariska Moon<br><strong>Age:</strong> 26<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Lesbiflexiaggressive<br><strong>Position:</strong><del>scissor</del> Operator<br><br>"Wow. That sucks," Mariska consoled her client, then added, totally deadpan, "but I guess nobody else does, any more." Before he could reply, she ran over him. "Can you give me your order number, please?"<br><br>A blast of profanity came from the phone, making her grin. Some of it was actually kind of creative. Certainly, she'd never tried THAT before, especially not with one of <em>those</em>...when it calmed down, she pressed the phone back to her ear. "Sir, if you continue to be abusive, we'll have to terminate you.&nbsp; Order number, please." She already had a pretty good idea what had happened. He wasn't the first to call in with the exact same issue.&nbsp; When he finally stopped yowling and gave her the number, she typed it in and clucked.<br><br>"Thank you sir. I see here from your client history that you ordered the MasoMan attachment package for your MightyMan Ego Inflatatron Three. If you read the user documents that come with that package, they specifically state, on page three hundred and seventeen, line thirty-three A as in asshat, I quote, 'For novelty use only. Use of this attachment while trying to enhance a corporeal sexual member, however inadequate, may result in serious and potentially life threatening (and certainly sex life destroying, if I might add) injury.' So you see sir, the pump is working exactly as described. It's just you that no longer is. Sorry, but the warranty policy specifically states that using the product in a manner contra-instructions is on your own...head, so to speak."<br><br>Another burst came from the earpiece- Gods and Demons, how she wished she were allowed to record some of these to play them back at home while she was rubbing one out! "What am I going to do for you, sir?&nbsp; Well, certainly not <strong>that</strong>. It doesn't sound as if you could, anyway. But might I suggest something? Go back to the pump, stick what's left in, finish the job, and join a smarter gender. Thankyouforyourcallwevalueyourmoneygoodday."<br><br>Nice. Even with all his carrying on, she was just under the wire on call time. She'd give herself (and Sam and Belinda) fifteen minutes, then investigate the break room her own self. Or maybe she should make it seven. Give them just enough time to get worked up. After all, if she had to deal with Grady, why should <strong>they</strong> get to have fun?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueOrange</strong> on <strong>31-03-2022, 08:48:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://www.pngkey.com/png/full/889-8891004_calling-girl-png-call-center-girl-png.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Belinda Taylor<br><strong>Age:</strong> 22<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Ambitious Workaholic<br><strong>Position:</strong> Agent (Outbound Voice)<br><br>Belinda sighed.&nbsp; Victoria was nice enough, but she was as boring as fuck.&nbsp; Well, no, she was pretty sure that even the worst sex in the history of bad sex would be more interesting than Victoria.&nbsp; And now Sam was chatting up the new girl, and now there was nobody to talk to.&nbsp; The last thing she wanted to do was get in the middle of Mariska and Grady, if he started to think for a moment that Belinda cared about him, then... but wait!&nbsp; Grady had moved on, and Mariska was giving off a 'my call just ended' kind of vibe.&nbsp; Which meant that there was probably 43 seconds of ACW time that Belinda could use, if she moved quickly enough.<br><br>She took the jug of cold water she'd been using to fill the urn with her to <strong>Mariska</strong>'s desk, and nodded to her friend.&nbsp; Well, maybe more of a colleague.&nbsp; Well, maybe more just someone who wasn't completely boring or unattractive.&nbsp; Well, someone you could be bitchy with, and know that you wouldn't get fucked over too badly.<br><br>"Hey, do you want to get a read on the new girl?&nbsp; Sharon, at the end of the row?"&nbsp; She was pretty confident that Tserin's name was Sharon, and she didn't much care if she was wrong.&nbsp; "She said some stuff to her supervisor about not being obsessed with dicks, and I don't know, I'm thinking it might be fun to work out which team she's playing for.&nbsp; Or playing with.&nbsp; Or... fuck it, I think you know what I'm getting at, and I don't have a lot of time left in my break.&nbsp; I just figure that between you, me, and this jug of water, we might be able to learn something about her.&nbsp; What do you think?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chi</strong> on <strong>31-03-2022, 18:08:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/DTB9dly.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Tserin Oakley<br><strong>Age:</strong> 19<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Heteroflexible<br><strong>Position:</strong> New hire Operator<br><br>Just then Tserin’s headset bleeped in her ear, alerting her that she had another incoming call.&nbsp; Not that that wouldn’t have been needed really, because her screen lit up with a huge red and black image that said:<br><br><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Hot ‘N Sexy<br>Phone Chat</span><br>(Follow the Script)</div><br>Poor Terin’s eyes bugged out when she read that. ‘OMIGODDD!’ shot through her head as she heard a man’s heavy breathing on the other end of the line, accompanied by a lewd squishing noise.&nbsp; Tserin did what she seemed to do best, and blushed furiously!<br><br>(Speak sultrily and huskily; “Hey babe, I’m Veronica. What’s your name?”)<br><br>With her mind locked up like an 18-wheeler trying to avoid slamming into a little subcompact car, her mouth took over and she said with a husky, and hopefully sultry voice, “Hey babe, I’m Veronica. What’s your name?”<br><br>A soft groan of maybe pain or pleasure came back over the phone, “Uh…I’m…I’m Larry…unf…” came back to her in her earpiece. ‘Ew, ugh.’ She thought before the next prompt came up.<br><br>(“You like girls with fat pussies &lt;name&gt;? I’ve got a really fat pussy, and it’s dripping just for you…”)<br><br>“Um… uh… D’you like g-girls with f-f-fat pussies Name? Oh jeez sorry, I umm, I meant Larry! I ah… got a really fat pussy, and it’s, well it’s kinda dripping just for you?”&nbsp; Tserin stuttered and stammered.<br><br>(STICK TO THE SCRIPT!) Came the prompt, then Tserin felt a sharp zapping pain on her ass, letting out a little yelp as a result.<br><br>“Oh yeah Ver ..oh god-d-d.. You sound so..’ the squelching sound got faster on ‘Larry’s’ end and he let out a gasp.&nbsp; “Fuuck, I love your voice baby, are you as sexy as you sound?”<br><br>Tom touched the speakerphone button on her base and smiled at Sam wickedly.<br><br>(Thank you &lt;name&gt;, I’m 5’8” with 56EEE tits, my ass is so tight you couldn't fuck it with a sewing needle, but I’d love it if you crammed that big cock up it hard!)<br><br>Tserin was shocked and glanced quickly at both Tom and Sam, her mouth agape.&nbsp; Both of them gave her a rolling hands motion which obviously meant for her to continue.&nbsp; Tserin gulped, and soldiered on, despite feeling like she was going to faint.&nbsp; She was very confused, especially about the fact that she could feel herself getting moist… down there!<br><br>“Th-thank you, Larry. I’m five-eight with 56 triple-E tits. My ass is so tight you couldn’t fuck it with a s-sewing needle?” She looked at her coworkers and mouther “What the fuck???” at them, but they both just smirked.&nbsp; “But I’d love for you to jam th-that big cock of yours up my shitter!” she adlibbed as her seat vibrated pleasantly.<br><br>“Urrr… oh yea baby, I’d fuck y-your ass until you screamed!” <em>FAP..FAP..FAP..FAP.FAP.FAP.</em><br><br>(“Oh god yes &lt;name&gt;, fuck my slutty little ass, make me your <em>bitch!</em>”)<br><br>Tserin’s seat was still vibrating and was getting warm under her cute tuckus, she couldn’t help but wiggle as it seemed to find her slit and clit perfectly, had it gotten softer so she’d sink in?&nbsp; “Oh god-d yes, Larry!” the pretty ginger exclaimed, curious as to why her nipples were tingling so much!&nbsp; “Fuck my slutty little ass! Make me your <em>bitch!</em> she wailed as she felt a small orgasm rip through her torso.<br><br><em>FAPFAPFAPPITYFAPFAPFAPFAPPITY…</em> “Ungh! Y-yeah, th-that’s it you.. Uhh uhh, you l-little” <em>FAPFAPFAPPITYFAPPITYTFAPPITYFAPFAPFAP</em> Ugh..ungg…unnf! C-CUMMING!” Larry growled and groaned from his side of the conversation, the sound of something liquidy splatting on a hard surface making poor Tserin nearly faint with embarrassment, hell she was mortified that she’d just cum in front of two strangers, never mind some creepy guy on the phone!<br><br>“Uhmm oh..oh shit Jesus, Larry… I c-came so hard! ThankyouforcallingHotn’SexyPhoneChat…g’bye!” She said just before she hung up, slumping back into her seat and panting hard.&nbsp; Suddenly applause erupted from the other operators who’d been listening in.&nbsp; “Oh fuuuck!” Tserin said as she covered her crimson face!<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nowherewoman</strong> on <strong>06-04-2022, 05:14:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cd/73/a7/cd73a732bf24b4f2f5d76d1e8eff7c64.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Mariska Moon<br><strong>Age:</strong> 26<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Lesbiflexiaggressive<br><strong>Position:</strong><del>scissor</del> Operator<br><br>Mariska was busily doodling skulls and crosses on a Pest-It-Note when a shadow loomed over her. Expecting it to be Grady again, she changed her grip on the pencil stub to hold it more like a dagger, and prepared to strike-<br><br>-but when she looked up, it was Belinda, perky and smiley. And decidedly Sam-less, which was a state of affairs far beyond the Goth's comprehension. Her clothes weren't even mussed! How in Hades had she managed to screw up that opportunity?<br><br>She was, however, holding a container full of water, and she herself was full of an evil plan involving New Kid.&nbsp; A grim smile spread across Mar's whitened face. "Bitch, I think I love you," she cackled, and sprang to her feet, tossing her headset on her desktop with no more care than shaking off a frat rat at a bar. "Let's do it!" <br><br>The Company had a very strong policy on sexual harassment, which read, in essence, 'If you do it, be prepared for the consequences.'&nbsp; Nowhere were the consequences spelled out and, after a couple of years dealing with the Barneys and Gradys of the company, Mariska had finally twigged to the truth: the policy was actually very empowering, in that it allowed you to create your <strong>own</strong> consequences for those who harassed you. Assuming you didn't <em>want</em> to be harassed, of course. Also assuming you had the strength, fortitude, and cleverness to pull off your revenge without running afoul of any of the harder rules of company behavior.<br><br>The pair stalked up to Tserin's desk just as she was finishing her bit of phone sex. The black-shrouded senior operator, at least, didn't join in the teasing applause, though. "Oh. My. GOD," Mariska sneered. "I sure hope you fuck in person better than you do on the phone."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueOrange</strong> on <strong>06-04-2022, 19:08:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://www.pngkey.com/png/full/889-8891004_calling-girl-png-call-center-girl-png.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Belinda Taylor<br><strong>Age:</strong> 22<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Ambitious Workaholic<br><strong>Position:</strong> Agent (Outbound Voice)<br><br>Belinda was delighted by Mariana’s response to her idea. “I love you too, cow,” she replied, and her mood was <em>so much better already</em> as she headed over to Tserin’s desk. It really was comforting to have a friend who shared her interests. And if her interests happened to be tormenting and humiliating the innocent newbie at work? Well, hell, the company didn’t actually give a damn what any of them did to each other, as long as money was made at the end of the day. And it wasn’t hard to work things so that there was money in it for the company.<br><br>And wow, Tserin was seriously into that call. Yes, the script was ridiculous, and the caller on the end of the line was pathetic, but <em>damn</em>, Belinda’s mouth was watering by the time she made it over, and she found herself imaging her fingers up the redhead’s ass, finding the places that would produce wave after wave of orgasms. She could do better than the chair did, she was sure of that much. <br><br>But damn, if Mariska wasn’t determined to be bad cop! “Oh give her a break, Mar,” Belinda said. “It’s Sharon’s first day, and me, I like a bit of raw enthusiasm. I mean, we know she’s not obsessed with Dick, but she does seem to know how to enjoy herself.”<br><br>She contemplated the jug of water she was carrying. She’d had a vague notion of how to use it, but with Mariska’s full-on assault, the idea of staging an accident with it seemed kinda lame now. “Besides, the poor girl clearly needs a break. And she’s likely to spend all day just looking for the right code to use. And then there’s the fact that every different break code gets a different amount of time. Who would have that ‘soiled uniform’ would get you twenty whole minutes? If you ask me, something fishy’s going on there.”<br><br>Looking Tserin dead in the eyes, she trust the jug of water at her, just enough so that some of the water splashed out onto Tserin’s blouse. In a tone neither surprised nor apologetic, Belinda said “Ooops. Sorry about that. Looks like your blouse is wet.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chi</strong> on <strong>07-04-2022, 22:02:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/DTB9dly.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Tserin Oakley<br><strong>Age:</strong> 19<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Heteroflexible<br><strong>Position:</strong> New hire Operator<br><br>Poor Tserin seemed to blush to a deep shade of purple at Mariska’s comment, but then the other girl called her by the wrong name again.&nbsp; She’d had to put up with that her whole life, and had learned to cope with it, but it seemed this other girl was doing it to intentionally goad her.&nbsp; ‘No problem,’ she thought to herself as the bitch prattled on as if she was queen shit of turd island.&nbsp; ‘I’ve handled cunts like this my whole life, I can cut her down like a fuckin’ redwood in Oregon!’<br><br>“Actually, my name’s Tserin, spelled T-S-E-R-I-N, but said like Sarin, that nice nerve toxin? Yeah I kinda could use a break, y’know fucking some weirdo on the phone is hard work,” she said with a sweet smile.&nbsp; “Ahh, I’m not worried about the whole soil-” she was going to say despite the fact that her panties were a squishy mess at the moment.<br><br>Then, Belinda was it..? splashed half the jug of water down her front, making the already fairly sheer light blue blouse stick to her small chest.&nbsp; In fact, it became see-through enough so that it was clear that she wasn’t wearing a bra and that her nipples were hard little points at the tips of her pert little a-cups.<br><br>“Thanks! I was still pretty hot!” the cute little ginger said as she stood up and smiled sweetly at the girl holding the jug of water.&nbsp; “The water’ll dry, or I can just take my shirt off.&nbsp; In the meantime, you should go to the john and wipe your mouth, you’ve still got some puke on the corner of your mouth… ahhh <em>Bulimia!</em> HAHAHAHAHA!”&nbsp; With that, Tserin started unbuttoning her blouse with a smirk on her impish face while she continued to blush furiously!<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueOrange</strong> on <strong>08-04-2022, 17:46:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://www.pngkey.com/png/full/889-8891004_calling-girl-png-call-center-girl-png.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Belinda Taylor<br><strong>Age:</strong> 22<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Ambitious Workaholic<br><strong>Position:</strong> Agent (Outbound Voice)<br><br>“Oh my god, you <em>are</em> fun,” Belinda breathed. What was that about puke on the corner of her mouth, though? She reached up with her free hand to check if there was something there, and then felt like an absolute fool when she worked out that it was a weird pun about her name. For all that it was a bit weird and stupid, it somehow stung a little. <em>How exciting!</em><br><br>“Too much nerve gas, I guess,” she chuckled. “And you’re right, it’s so fucking hot in here, I have no idea how I didn’t think of this sooner.” That said, she poured the rest of the jug of water onto her own chest, taking her time with it, and making sure that she passed the water smoothly over one collarbone and then the other. Her C-cup chest meant that she had to be careful distributing the water if everything was going to cling properly, you see. Although as the water made it possible to see through the blouse, it became clear that Belinda was cheating once again, the hard shell of her dark blue push-up bra wasn’t fitting perfectly underneath, and it was clear that padding was doing some not-so-heavy lifting.<br><br>“Yeah, too much nerve gas. That, and that water is surprisingly cold. Gawd I can feel my nipples getting really tight. It kinda hurts a little. She let the plastic jug fall to the floor, grabbed her own boobs with both hands, and writhed in pretend agony. “God I need someone to warm them up. Someone to take my breast gently into her mouth and press lightly against my nipple with her tongue. Just firmly enough that the painful pinching feeling goes away. Just to let it melt gently, so that I can feel myself start to relax again.”<br><br>Leaning forward so that she was eye to eye with Tserin, she realised that she should have known better than to buy Hell Company bra with reactive gel inserts, and her desperation was becoming genuine. “The inside of this bra feels like a fucking freezer, can you help me with it Tserin?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chi</strong> on <strong>16-04-2022, 21:20:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/KyPQ8Qz.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Tserin Oakley<br><strong>Age:</strong> 19<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Heteroflexible<br><strong>Position:</strong> New hire Operator<br><br>Tserin was still half turned on when she’d started unbuttoning her blouse, not even thinking that she was about to expose her pert little breasts to the assembled group.&nbsp; Her fingers were on autopilot though, and even as she gazed on as Belinda poured water over her own chest she felt a little spike heat up her lower belly.&nbsp; She handed her blouse over to Tom, who was too busy admiring her little tea-cup-shaped titties as his cock throbbed in his slacks to say a word as the small girl stood there ogling her co-worker.<br><br>Her delicate hands reached out, hesitated, reached out again while her teeth worried her bottom lip, hesitated then dropped as her lips curled up in an evil little smirk.&nbsp; “Help me, Tserin Oakley, you’re my only hope…”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueOrange</strong> on <strong>16-04-2022, 22:07:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://www.pngkey.com/png/full/889-8891004_calling-girl-png-call-center-girl-png.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Belinda Taylor<br><strong>Age:</strong> 22<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Ambitious Workaholic<br><strong>Position:</strong> Agent (Outbound Voice)<br><br>“Yeah, OK, Tserin Oakley, you’ve made your point,” Belinda blurted. The irritation at the front of her chest was rapidly turning into pain. “Now will you use the fucking force already? Because I am literally freezing my tits off here, and the clasp on this bra is an absolute bitch.”<br><br>While speaking, she’d been fumbling at the buttons of her own blouse, but between the agitation and the water, she just couldn’t work the buttons properly. So she grabbed hold of the fabric and pulled hard, not really noticing or caring if the fabric was tearing or the buttons were pinging off: that was a problem for future Belinda.<br><br>With the shirt open, the next step was to get it off. With the clasp at the back, she should be able to reach it once it was out of the way. But with her arms in the sleeves, they just kept pulling the shirt against her back. No problem, all you do is lower your arms behind your back and the shirt falls to the floor. <em>Unless of course the buttons at the end of the sleeves are done up, and your hands get trapped inside the sleeves.</em> “Ah shit.”<br><br>And now the shirt was trapped somehow. Something, or maybe some<em>one</em> had hold of it, and she couldn’t bring her hands back up. <em>Well, fuck it, I may as well make this look deliberate</em>. “Help me, Tserin Oakley,” she said, arching her back as she pressed her body forwards, “You’re my only hope.” Yeah, that was the way to play this. Wriggle around, arch and stretch.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nowherewoman</strong> on <strong>16-04-2022, 23:30:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cd/73/a7/cd73a732bf24b4f2f5d76d1e8eff7c64.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Mariska Moon<br><strong>Age:</strong> 26<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Lesbiflexiaggressive<br><strong>Position:</strong><del>scissor</del> Operator<br><br>UnHoly.<br>Shit.<br><br>It was pretty impressive how quickly New Girl had shifted from shrinking violet on the phone to Gypsy Rose Do Me in person. Maybe she really didn't like dick, but didn't mind being ogled and pawed at by chicks?&nbsp; In which case, the day had just gotten a lot better.<br><br>It got better still as Belinda also got into the 'show don't tell' mood, drenching herself and starting to strip down. Mar couldn't really compete- she was between the two of them in size, and had piercings where they didn't (though she'd be happy to add a few to Tserin, if she liked), but basic black leather didn't function too well as wet t-shirt material. And God Dammit, she had too many clasps and shit to really get into the stripathon in any sort of full-on way. So she leaned up against the sharp metal edge of Tserin's kennel- and thanked the leather then, to be sure- and settled in to enjoy the show.&nbsp; Belinda, surprisingly, fucked up getting her blouse off, which was both funny and sad, but watching new Girl help her with it was totally a popcorn moment. <em>Without</em> the ghost pepper powder the company vending machines spewed all over the stuff in the snack room. Chewing at her bottom lip, she waited for New Girl to get her hands on Belinda, and maybe her teeth, too-<br><br>And. Her fucking phone. RANG.<br><br>She knew it was hers because her Away From Desk tone was...distinctive. It was, in fact Sasha Grey yowling dirty talk, cribbed from a very hot gangbang vid.<br><br>"Shit."<br><br>Exhibiting a trait that had Corporate screening her for witch blood every two weeks, she all but levitated back to her desk. It wasn't magic- a bitch could just move when a bitch had to move. She was hitting the answer button with the spike heel of one boot as she was still tugging her headset on.<br><br><em>"ThankyouforcallingEvilCorpCustomerSavagefactionhowmayIHellyou?"</em><br><br>She paused, listened...frowned.<em> "No, sir, that is certainly correct. The Party Pooper Power Popper pack isn't supposed to detonate until the ribbon is completely unwound..."</em> With a noticeable tremor, her free hand crept towards the skull-and-crossbones of the Panic Button, the big glowing black one that alerted both Legal and Tactical divisions that there was an honest to Grond, legit, undeflectable customer complaint incoming.&nbsp; <em>"On the table. No one in the room?&nbsp; No pets? Passing trucks or aircraft? No?&nbsp; Is your home in a designated flood or subsidence zone? Was there any sort of weather event?"</em>&nbsp; She was running out of ideas.&nbsp; Swallowing hard, she dragged the ear protectors over her head-<br><br><em>"Just a moment please, sir, while I elevate your call-"</em><br><br>-and hit the button, immediately freeing three adolescent <em>ban sidhe </em>from their ball gags.<br><br>Their screams from inside the resounding cavity of the ventilation system were a lot louder than dear Sasha ever got.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chi</strong> on <strong>16-04-2022, 23:42:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/LOSfj8a.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Tserin Oakley<br><strong>Age:</strong> 19<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Heteroflexible<br><strong>Position:</strong> New hire Operator<br><br><hr><br>Tserin may have been goofing around with her hackneyed Star Wars quote, but she suddenly realized that Belinda was <em>not</em> faking, she was in <em>actual</em> distress, and now her arms were trapped in her sleeves.&nbsp; Her smirk fell, and she looked remorseful as she stepped forward, pausing for a moment as she’d never really fooled around with a girl before, though she’d certainly <em>thought</em> and <em>fantasized</em> about it enough!<br><br>Belinda really was pretty, which made Tserin feel inadequate as she stared at the older girl’s larger breasts.&nbsp; God, she wished she had boobs like that!&nbsp; Of course, bigger boobs meant they needed support, and bras, which the cute redhead definitely did not need!&nbsp; Her pussy tingled in her panties, the wet spot spreading in the crotch of her work pants as her chest heaved.&nbsp; ‘Okay, you can do this Tserin, it’s just another girl.’ … ‘Sure, of course, it’s just another girl, who has the prettiest tits you’ve ever seen!’ … ‘They’re totally awesome, but Belinda needs help, and in a way, even though she dumped the water on herself, it’s your fault for cumming in front of the whole office!’ … ‘What kind of a freaking nut-job are you?!?’ … ‘I’m you!’<br><br>Lowering her eyes she stepped into Belinda, her arms coming around her back, fingers sliding up it to the clasp of the other girl’s bra. “I’ve… I’ve never d-done this be-before,” she murmured softly as she stepped right in to Belinda, pressing her smaller breasts under Belinda’s larger ones as she rested her head on the older girl’s shoulder, her breath soft and fast on the side of her neck.&nbsp; With a deft flick of her fingers, she freed Belinda’s jugs from the bra and flung the offending undergarment off and away, stepping back, and not making eye contact with Belinda, her blush going almost down into her pants as she stood there, panting softly, her own nipples looking achingly hard on her itty-bitty titties.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueOrange</strong> on <strong>17-04-2022, 18:15:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><div class="floatleft">(https://www.pngkey.com/png/full/889-8891004_calling-girl-png-call-center-girl-png.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Belinda Taylor<br><strong>Age:</strong> 22<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Ambitious Workaholic<br><strong>Position:</strong> Agent (Outbound Voice)<br><br>The pleasure as Tserin came up close and her breath tickled Belinda’s neck was somehow made more exciting and intense by the burning that Belinda felt in her breasts. She had no idea whether to complain about the stupid gel-filled bra that chilled dangerously and dramatically when it came in contact with water, or to thank the company for bringing her this close to such a sexy creature. She reckoned she could fit the entirety of one of Tserin’s boobs into her mouth, and she was keen to try it. That wicked gleam that had peeked out, and was then replaced with genuine concern? It would be good to see that again.<br><br>As her bra fell away, the pain reduced immediately and Belinda almost cried with relief. But her breasts still felt weird. She had no way of knowing that some of the gel from her padded bra was sticking to them, and that no harm (aside from reddened skin) had been done. All she knew was that they felt wrong, and she was scared.<br><br>Just as she was about to help, the screaming started. It sounded like three women threatening to kill each other at the top of their lungs inside a really loud nightclub inside a jet engine. Belinda yelled as loud as she could to get past the noise, and she couldn’t hear her own voice. And the sound seemed like it would go on forever.<br><br>How to ask for help? How to explain what she needed?&nbsp; She couldn’t. And with whatever was going on with her shirt, there was no freeing her hands so she could help herself. The best she could do was to push her chest forward and move it around slowly, as close to Tserin’s face as she could manage. The generous handfuls of her breasts wouldn’t be too difficult to examine, could they?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chi</strong> on <strong>18-04-2022, 01:13:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/V61jETf.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Tserin Oakley<br><strong>Age:</strong> 19<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Heteroflexible<br><strong>Position:</strong> New hire Operator<br><br><hr><br>Then the hounds of hell started howling, Tserin flinched and clapped her hands to her ears, but her eyes were locked onto Belinda’s weaving bobs, they were literally right in front of her nose as she stared in rapt fascination at them.&nbsp; ‘Her nipples look sooo hard.&nbsp; I bet they hurt a lot.&nbsp; Jeez she doesn’t have a whole lot of sag considering how big they are…’<br><br>Suddenly she snapped out of her mesmerized state after noticing that there was some blue goop on a few spots on her boobs, and the skin around them was crinkled and blue looking.&nbsp; Thinking fast she grabbed her wet shirt from Tom, who was equally enchanted by Belinda’s bouncing betties, and started wiping at the blue spots as best as she could.&nbsp; Tom, of course, was pretty sure that the little ginger looked more like she was fondling the other girl’s breasts. Maybe Tserin was, maybe she wasn’t.&nbsp; Okay, maybe she was just a teensy bit!&nbsp; But eventually, she managed to get all of the goop from the injured girl's glorious gazongas!<br><br>"Are... Are you okay B- Belinda?" Tserin asked her coworker, even though Belinda couldn't hear her over the wailing of the ban sidhe.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueOrange</strong> on <strong>19-04-2022, 02:15:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><div class="floatleft">(https://www.pngkey.com/png/full/889-8891004_calling-girl-png-call-center-girl-png.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Belinda Taylor<br><strong>Age:</strong> 22<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Ambitious Workaholic<br><strong>Position:</strong> Agent (Outbound Voice)<br><br>Chills ran through Belinda’s entire body as Tserin cleaned the goop off her breasts. Something about the touch of her taking the pain away. There had been so much pain. And then suddenly, it was gone. She nodded vigorously, the only communication she could manage. She wanted to return the favor. To do all the things she’d talked about. Tserin’s nipples looked achingly hard. She wanted to feel those hard points press against her. To take one into her mouth and be the one who melted it back down. But she was still trapped. Dammit! She tugged at the shirt, desperation rising in her.<br><br>And now Tserin was saying something. Belinda tried to lip-read. Looked up at the taller girl’s lips, their softness, their fullness, the concern that radiated from that pretty face. <em>Oh for FUCK’s SAKE!</em> And then Belinda’s shirt tore, and several things happened at once.<br><br>She stumbled forward, and her body slammed into Tserin’s, while her arms whipped forward. As she instinctively grabbed onto something to steady herself, her hands found Tserin’s ass, and her fingers pressed into it. It was a glorious feeling, to suddenly be free, and have her fingers poking into a perfect posterior.<br><br>Meanwhile, the top half of her body was also in motion, and Tom certainly appreciated the sight of four breasts mashing into each other, the way they all moved and squished and heaved.&nbsp; But Belinda’s focus was on the mouth. Not that she was quite tall enough to kiss Tserin on the lips without a little help. But she could kiss the underside of her chin. She could run her tongue along the jawbone. She could suck on that gorgeous, tender throat.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>GloomCookie</strong> on <strong>19-04-2022, 06:00:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was a genuine toss up as to who had garnered more attention: Mariska unleashing the ban sidhe from their imprisonment or Belinda and Tserin stripping out of their clothes and fondling each other. It certainly garnered attention from someone alright, that person being Douglas Rankin, the floor manager and one of the company VP's. When he emerged from his office, he immediately had people jumping out of his way to avoid upsetting him. He was tall and well built, looking like he bench pressed small cars for fun, his hair a solid steel gray with sharp red eyes. He wore a suit but had left the jacket in his office, a simple white undershirt with a jet black tie that seemed to drink light and impossible to see directly. He approached Mariska's desk first, and simply gave her one command: "Follow." He then followed the commotion towards Belinda and Tserin, where he found them meshed together. He stood over them, arms crossed, and glowered. "I don't pay my operators to stand around. You two come with me, and don't bother getting dressed." He then turned and strode towards his office with the three women in tow.<br><br>Inside the office it was dark. Black walls with red leather devices that hinted at either kinky BDSM or extreme torture, posts with rings for securing people, and in a display case behind the desk was a silver handgun with elegant filigree that seemed to dance in the light. He moved to his desk and sat, steeping his hands together and looking at the three women and letting them squirm uncomfortably, before asking, "And why are you causing a disruption on my production floor?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueOrange</strong> on <strong>19-04-2022, 19:22:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://www.pngkey.com/png/full/889-8891004_calling-girl-png-call-center-girl-png.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Belinda Taylor<br><strong>Age:</strong> 22<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Ambitious Workaholic<br><strong>Position:</strong> Agent (Outbound Voice)<br><br>Belinda did her best to look scared and intimidated as the girls were whisked off the floor, but mostly she was excited. <em>There’s no such thing as bad publicity,</em> she reminded herself. Here she was, being summoned to a senior management office at last. And the interior was just as kinky as the rumors said it had been. And the manager nowhere near as unattractive as she had feared. She covered her breasts with her hands, ‘accidentally’ allowing one of her nipples to poke through.<br><br>There was a moment of silence after he asked his question, and then she answered. “I guess some people don’t have much discipline,” she answered. “We were using our break time to rehearse a scene for the video production team, who had told us we needed to be ready, but with the time we had, Tserin’s cubicle was the only place where we had time to do it. I guess some people are just easily distracted from their work.”<br><br>She paused thoughtfully, and allowed her left hand to drift down to the front of her skirt. “Unless we were doing a better job than I realized,” she mused, and pressed her hand against herself, as if testing for something. “I mean, you should have seen Tserin’s nipples showing through that fabric. They could easily put someone’s eye out.” She rocked her hips against her hand.<br><br>“Although I have a sense that her ass is the real highlight.” She cupped Tserin’s ass with her right hand. “It feels fantastic. I guess I’m glad her pants stayed on. If they’d come off, that could have been <em>really</em> disruptive.”<br><br>She gnawed thoughtfully on her lower lip for a moment. “But I’m not sure if that should be what happens next. Do you think the viewers would want to watch us kiss? Or maybe do a little roleplaying?” She gripped Tserin’s ass hard and breathed “Fuck me Tserin Oakley, you’re my only hope.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chi</strong> on <strong>19-04-2022, 19:58:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/LOSfj8a.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Tserin Oakley<br><strong>Age:</strong> 19<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Heteroflexible<br><strong>Position:</strong> New hire Operator<br><br><hr><br>Tserin realized something was wrong when Belinda lunged at her, she thought the older girl had somehow fallen or been pushed forward, she wasn’t sure as her eyes had pretty much been locked onto her boobs and those… those nipples!&nbsp; Damn, they looked like plump little baby raspberries and she wondered if they were just as tasty!&nbsp; ‘HUH?!?!?’<br><br>When their bodies collided Tserin’s hands and arms wrapped around the shorter girl, dropping directly onto her fine ass, well she was pretty sure it was fine, she’d never actually groped another girl’s ass, and well, it sure felt fine in her limited experience’s estimation!<br><br>‘Ohhhh!&nbsp; So this is what it feels like to rub boobies with another girl!’ the petite red-haired girl thought to herself as the pair’s nipples dragged and danced against each other, sending sparkling little bursts of WOOHOO right down to her still quivering pussy.<br><br>Tserin unconsciously ground her pubis against Belinda's as they stood there wrapped in each other’s arms, and she cooed softly when Belinda started kissing and sucking at her jaw and throat.<br><br><hr><br>Putting a hand over each boob Tserin followed Belinda and their floor manager.&nbsp; She was trying to feel upbeat about being fired from her job within a half-hour of starting, but realized there was no way in hell Mickey Dee’s was gonna hire her back after she shoved a slimy Big Mac into the Ass Man’s face just before the end of her last shift!&nbsp; The assistant manager, or Ass Man as everyone called him, made that Dave guy look more like Hugh Jackman in Wolverine if the truth were to be told.&nbsp; He lived on McD’s food and it showed, he breathed like Darth Vader just moving from the registers to the fryer FFS!<br><br>The one good thing about her walk of shame was that she could keep her eyes on Belinda’s freaking awesome ass!&nbsp; Tserin had dropped her hands and hung her head, waiting for the ax to fall, and then they were in the office, and Belinda was throwing out some cockamamie bullshit line that no one in their right mind would believe.&nbsp; ‘Ho-leeeee Sheeeeeee-it!&nbsp; What the hell is she talking about?&nbsp; Maybe I don’t wanna know what she’s talking about!’&nbsp; Tserin thought to herself in a panic.<br><br>Then Belinda’s hand cupped her butt and squeezed it, causing her to jump and squeak, “Uh… Bacardi’s ass is pretty awesome too?” Tserin added with a nervous giggle before going up on her toes from Belinda’s much firmer grab.<br><br>Her head whipped around when Belinda suggested they… kiss.&nbsp; Tserin bit her lower lip and blushed …yet again. She was going to faint with all of the blushing, and the fact that her pussy was doing its best to dehydrate her!&nbsp; All she could do was nod at Belinda, turning her body to the shorter girl and pressing her small breasts into the other girl's larger ones before tilting her head to plant her first-ever girl kiss on her!<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nowherewoman</strong> on <strong>19-04-2022, 20:09:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cd/73/a7/cd73a732bf24b4f2f5d76d1e8eff7c64.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Mariska Moon<br><strong>Age:</strong> 26<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Lesbiflexiaggressive<br><strong>Position:</strong><del>scissor</del> Operator<br><br>Mar let her eyes drift around the room without seeming to- the way you do when some guy you have less than zero interest in keeps trying to chat you up. Oh, if she only had an office like this one! She could find a use for most of the accessories on display. And if she ever got New Girl Nerve Agent in there- well, she wouldn't be walking when she left. If she left.<br><br>She tried to look suitably impressed and cowed by Doug's barking, but she was pretty desensitized already by the job. Not that the dude wasn't trouble- of a good-looking, well-dressed, VERY well-heeled sort- after a certain time, though, one just couldn't be arsed. Though now that she had his attention, was there a way to work it?<br><br>Her own attention was quickly distracted by Belinda's clever, facile- and <strong>believable</strong>- lie about her and Little Red Ridemehard doing Company work on their downtime. Quick, the bitch was.&nbsp; Quick <strong>suckup</strong> bitch.<br><br>She'd managed to cover herself and Tserin, metaphorically speaking, which left Mariska kinda twisting. Except she had&nbsp; an iron-clad, bona fide excuse.<br><br>"Section three thousand twenty three of the Employee handbook, as revised yesterday," she said precisely, all but coming to attention. "Subsection ninety-six, paragraph four hundred, sub-bullet nineteen.'&nbsp; Hopefully he wouldn't ask her about any OTHER parts of the bloody book. The person who'd brought Mar on had advised her to memorize that specific section just in case shit went sideways. The book itself was right that moment holding up one end of her coffee table/dining table/desk in her 13-th floor walkup. The end with a broken leg.<br><br>"'In case of a clear and present threat to Corporate profitability resulting from a verifiably true or substantially likely customer complaint, operators will, shall, and must use the Company-installed Death Knell signal to alert both the Legal and Tactical divisions of said breach of profitability. Failure to do so is grounds for termination and any other punishment deemed suitable by management, including eternal damnation and perpetual slavery...'' There, she'd managed to get it all out in one breath. "But I'm sure you know the section better than I do, Mister Rankins," she finished with a shy smile. Actually, she'd bet he'd read even less of it that she had. One of the good things about moving into Management was not having to deal with petty details.<br><br>"And I know you didn't ask my opinion, sir, but I think our customers would very much like to see Belinda and the new girl tongue-wrestle for a while." There. Carrot, stick, and false flag.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueOrange</strong> on <strong>19-04-2022, 21:59:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><div class="floatleft">(https://www.pngkey.com/png/full/889-8891004_calling-girl-png-call-center-girl-png.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Belinda Taylor<br><strong>Age:</strong> 22<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Ambitious Workaholic<br><strong>Position:</strong> Agent (Outbound Voice)<br><br>Belinda knew that the smart play would be to listen out carefully for whatever Rankin might say next, but Tserin was leaning down to kiss her and there was nothing she wanted more in the entire world than to kiss her back. Hungrily. Passionately. Desperately. Maybe if she gripped Tserin’s ass a little tighter, she could strengthen the connection between their mouths.<br><br>After a little while, though, tilting her head right back got a little tiring. There were other appealing targets that were easier to reach. And she could go back to sucking up to her employer if she started sucking on Tserin’s titties. “I think it makes for better video if I hold my mouth a short distance away, and I flick the nipple with my tongue.” She demonstrated what she was talking about. “It’s very tasty. But then maybe people want to see me take her whole breast into my mouth. Like mmpf. Mgdn bunn du kn fffn dn urmmff.” She came up for air.<br><br>“Now, with me in a skirt, I think it’s going to be pretty easy for guys watching to imagine themselves thrusting into me. But I think that’s harder to do with Tserin in these jeans.”&nbsp; She stepped back a little, then bent neatly at the waist, moving her hands around to the fastenings at the front of Tserin’s jeans. “I think they may have to go.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chi</strong> on <strong>19-04-2022, 23:40:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/Khpl9cS.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Tserin Oakley<br><strong>Age:</strong> 19<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Try-Sexual (You figure it out. C’mon, you’re smart, I know you can!)<br><strong>Position:</strong> New hire Operator<br><br><hr><br>Tserin whimpered into her kiss with Belinda, it was… different… ‘Unnf!&nbsp; Her lips are so soft!&nbsp; Mmmm, what if I flick my tongue against her bottom lip?&nbsp; Oh goddddddddddd… I- I think I just came again!’&nbsp; Tserin said as she shuddered against the shorter girl, her legs quivering, almost giving out under her as she clung to Belinda, her mouth devouring the other girls almost desperately as her pussy creamed the crotch of her jeans with her prodigious effluence.<br><br>When Belinda pulled away it took a second to realize it, and she was making fish lips with her eyes closed before she managed to open her eyes, desperately glancing at as she blushed… damn Tserin blushed an awful fucking lot! …Mr. Rankin and the other girl, what was her name?&nbsp; Marian?&nbsp; Marlene?&nbsp; It didn’t matter because just then Bellicose’s mouth latched onto her aching nipple, pulling it back and nibbling on it, making the tall teen groan lustily.<br><br>“Unngh FUUUCK!” Tserin mewed as she shuddered yet again, her jeans now soaked almost to her knees because her small titty was deep inside Barge’s mouth.&nbsp; She was completely at her mercy.&nbsp; The sweet, seemingly innocent girl was getting superheated, her body felt like it was going to spontaneously combust she was so aroused, so when Belinda suggested that they remove her jeans she willingly let her pop the button at the waist of her skinny jeans, even helping by tugging the zipper down so hard it broke at the bottom of its draw point.<br><br>The look in the nineteen-year-old's eyes was fiery and desperate as she whispered shakily, “P-please?”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>GloomCookie</strong> on <strong>20-04-2022, 11:20:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Douglas Rankin listened to the girls, already having in mind what he wanted to do to each of them. He was not someone easily distracted by the temptations of flesh, though he would use bondage for both pain and pleasure where needed. No, his intention was to restore order to his little domain, or at the very least get the girls motivated into using that energy the way he wanted.<br><br>Belinda was certainly good at spinning the situation, though her suggestion that they were doing it for a video production was absolute horse shit. He knew it, Belinda knew it, and from the look of panic on Tserin's face, she knew it too. But, she was committed to her act, and her bullshit went deep enough she was about ready to strip herself and Tserin right there and start fucking in his office. Not that he had any real issue with that, the two were cute and definitely fuckable, though he maintained a policy of never fucking the floor staff unless they weren't his problem anymore. Sometimes knowing one of them was on their way to HR's recycling room was a good thing.<br><br>Mariska was a different character altogether. Her recitation of the Employee Handbook was spot on, and Rankin was impressed. Most employees could be tortured and they'd barely remember there was an employee handbook, let alone what any of it said. Sometimes that worked to Rankin's advantage, sometimes not. Having someone who knew the book that well? That had potential. For now, she was absolutely right, and that was probably what saved her ass. Her gothic aestetic was definitely something he wanted around, and so a slow grin spread over his face as the two girls started trying to tongue-fuck each other again. <br><br>"Well, Miss Moon, it would appear that you're correct in more ways than one. My assistant went and got herself terminated yesterday, and I've been thinking of replacing her. I think you'd be well suited to the task, given your knowledge of the Handbook. And since you seem so eager, why don't you arrange a little demonstration with Miss Taylor and Miss Oakley. Since they seem quite eager to fuck each other's brains out, why not let them demonstrate their love for each other and the company for everyone on the floor. I will leave the details in your hands as a demonstration of your ability. Get creative... and don't be afraid to 'motivate' them in any way you see fit."<br><br>He then casually waved his hand, "You three may go. I expect an... interesting report from you, Miss Moon on what you have these two do."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueOrange</strong> on <strong>21-04-2022, 00:04:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><div class="floatleft">(https://www.pngkey.com/png/full/889-8891004_calling-girl-png-call-center-girl-png.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Belinda Taylor<br><strong>Age:</strong> 22<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Ambitious Workaholic<br><strong>Position:</strong> Agent (Outbound Voice)<br><br>“Since you asked so nicely,” Belinda said, and pulled Tserin’s jeans down to her feet, gave her a chance to step out of them. Of course, to do that properly, she had to kneel in front of the taller girl, and she found herself staring at Tserin’s damp thighs, and the possibilities between them.<br><br>Leaning forward gently, she realized that somehow, through all the wild things that had been happening, she was still wearing her headset. The boom mike bumped into Tserin’s leg, and the soft sponge of the microphone cover… did it tickle? Only really one way to find out: she gently slid her tongue from Tserin’s knee up to her thigh, taking care to make sure that the boom mike dragged a parallel line across Tserin’s skin. <br><br>Rankin seemed content to leave them to it, and Mariska was presumably deep in thought. She chuckled slightly: she could probably have Tserin to herself for hours before Mariska had any instructions for them. They’d probably be wickedly clever when they came, but the goth girl did like to think about things. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chi</strong> on <strong>26-04-2022, 11:55:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/Z50oDE3.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Tserin Oakley<br><strong>Age:</strong> 19<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Try-Sexual (You figure it out. C’mon, you’re smart, I know you can!)<br><strong>Position:</strong> New hire Operator<br><br><hr><br>Letting Belinda skim her skinny jeans down her legs, Tserin shivered as the air in the room tickled the moist flesh of her inner thighs.&nbsp; “Ohhhhhh,” she gasped as the soft cap of the shorter girl’s boom mic barely grazed her fair skin, a shiver running up her spine in reaction.&nbsp; Another soft coo and gasp came from her as Belinda’s tongue teased up her hot flesh, the foam of the boom mic tip causing a knee-jerk reaction in the tall teen, making her fist Belinda’s hair and pull her mouth to the junction of her thighs firmly.<br><br>Tserin was lost, gone, her body knew what it wanted, and she was just along for the ride now.&nbsp; She didn’t know why she sometimes reacted like she was at the moment.&nbsp; All she knew was that given the right stimulation she’d turn into a raving nymphomaniac, and apparently, her phone sex chat with good ol’ Larry had kicked it off this time!<br><br>“Unnnghh, yesss…” The willowy ginger moaned as she rubbed her bald pussy into Belinda’s face, the little landing strip at the top tickling the other girl’s nose, willing her to finish what she’d started.&nbsp; Her hips pumped slowly, grinding herself into her partner’s face as she held her firmly with a fistful of ponytail.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueOrange</strong> on <strong>29-04-2022, 15:42:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><div class="floatleft">(https://www.pngkey.com/png/full/889-8891004_calling-girl-png-call-center-girl-png.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Belinda Taylor<br><strong>Age:</strong> 22<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Ambitious Workaholic<br><strong>Position:</strong> Agent (Outbound Voice)<br><br>There was something absolutely delicious about Tserin grabbing hold of Belinda’s ponytail. <em>I’ve won,</em> she thought to herself. <em>There’s absolutely no doubt that she wants me. Nobody teases better than I do!</em> A shiver ran down her spine as she felt… complete. Another notch to be carved into her bedpost tonight.<br><br>And yet, at the same time, a mildly embarrassing predicament: she’d never given head to a woman before. She had sone idea of what to do in theory, and some idea of what she (and presumably others) didn’t like. But that’s not the same as knowing what actually works. Still, she’d brazened her way this far, she may as well keep going with it.<br><br><em>Why not probe gently with my nose?</em> That seemed safer somehow. Perhaps it might come across as clever and innovative. And if she focused on drawing trails on Tserin’s skin with her nose, then the complex folds could be treated as a side-dish, rather than the everything. And then, when she was feeling a little braver, she could bring her lips into play. Kiss Tserin’s lower lips gently. Just slowly, intermittently explore the possibilities presented most conveniently. She realised as she did it that Tserin’s experience would be of being teased, and she smiled. She might not know how to give head, but she sure as hell knew how to <em>tease</em>.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nowherewoman</strong> on <strong>29-04-2022, 15:51:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cd/73/a7/cd73a732bf24b4f2f5d76d1e8eff7c64.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Mariska Moon<br><strong>Age:</strong> 26<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Lesbiflexiaggressive<br><strong>Position:</strong><del>scissor</del> Operator<br><br><br>Well...shit. Talk about dilemmas. They all had been quite clearly dismissed from The Presence, but Tserin and Belinda were so, erm...entangled that they barely seemed to know it. Mariska knew damn well her promotion, and maybe her entire job, rested on a teeter-totter, contingent on how she handled things.<br><br>The position the two were in helped. After a quick moment of thought, Mar opened Rankin's door and propped it with a company wastebasket (guaranteed to only spill when completely full!), then quickstepped back to the pair. Crushing herself hard against Tserin's back (shoulda worn the studded jacket, to really make it fun, but who knew?), she reached one hand around and pressed on the back of Belinda's head, forcing her face even deeper between the ginger's thighs. The other took a firm hold on Tserin's throat, and slowly but inexorably, the Goth started dragging them backwards towards the door.<br><br>"Thanks, boss," she chirped over the gasping redhead's shoulder. "I'll just take these two out for a little...peer review."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>GloomCookie</strong> on <strong>18-05-2022, 01:40:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The floor was bustling in its normal activity, though three of the closest desks were manned by women known as the Crones. They watched the goings on with keen interest, and who came and went from the office. The fact that three women went in and two came out practically naked sent them into a tittering storm. Somehow, despite no one even aware of HOW they knew, people were peeking up over the tops of their cubical dividers to stare slack jawed at the girls, which led to some stepping out to see for themselves what was going on. Within a minute of stepping out, they had the attention of almost everyone on the floor.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Open] Call Center of Evil</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueOrange</strong> on <strong>18-05-2022, 20:12:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><div class="floatleft">(https://www.pngkey.com/png/full/889-8891004_calling-girl-png-call-center-girl-png.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Belinda Taylor<br><strong>Age:</strong> 22<br><strong>Sexual Identity:</strong> Ambitious Workaholic<br><strong>Position:</strong> Compromising?&nbsp; No. Compromised.<br><br>Belinda had very little idea what was going on. The view from in between Tserin’s legs was pretty seriously obstructed. And while, in theory, her ears were not obstructed, in practice there’s something about crawling out of the boss’s office nearly gagging on a snatch that was really quite distracting. <br><br>She was pretty sure that Mariska had made some kind of speech once they were out of the room. But every time she slowed down a little, every time she stopped moaning, the pressure on her shoulder and the back of her head intensified. And so there she was, on all fours, and she’d completely lost control of the situation, and part of her was angry, part of her was calculating her revenge and all of her was secretly loving it. So she moaned and she licked and she rubbed, and then she moaned some more.<br><br>And then there was quiet. It sounded like someone asked a question and Mariska gave some kind of an answer. And then a hand touched her thigh, in the gap between the bottom of her skirt and the top of her stockings. She had no idea whose hand it was, and she realized that she didn’t care. She pressed back against it. Rocked her hips. Pulled away from it and felt it follow, then pushed back, angling herself and opening her legs so that a finger slid up between them and felt the wetness of her panties.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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