Part VIII: The Ghosts of Transgressions Past: Intersectional Discrimination
Friday morning Lori told me that I would be relieved from my third training session of the day--the one in the late afternoon. Sounded good until she explained the reason. She and Phyllis had an evening event planned for me. They wanted me to be prepared for it. So I was to go home early, shower, and put on comfortable clothes. Then I was to meet them at the same location I'd first been humiliated in--where I'd been drugged and hypnotized into thinking I was a beautiful young woman and, under that misimpression, I'd sucked off every one of my male employees.
"What are you planning to do to me?" I asked, as if I could somehow veto plans I didn't like, or at least that it would somehow be made better by my knowing in advance the fate that was to befall me.
"Oh, don't worry. It's nothing like last time. Nothing at all." For some reason, I wasn't reassured.
The morning and midday sessions were pretty much routine, which means awful but not really anything special. After the midday one, I went home, showered, and, because I was free of my chastity device, whacked off. I was hoping not to repeat what happened last night when I jacked off. It was awful! I was jacking to an interracial video and, just as I was nearing my climax, the woman who was sucking a huge black cock for the money shot turned the cock toward the camera and said, "I'll bet you want this, don't you?" And then the impossibly large cock shot an enormous load of cum right on the camera. All the while it was spewing its load, the woman was cooing to the imagined audience about how they loved to suck cock and how much the loved cum.
I was so near my orgasm that I didn't stop. But my pleasure was tainted because all I could think about as I was cumming and watching the cum coat the camera lens was me sucking cocks and taking loads in my mouth and on my face. I tried to put it out of my mind and just experience the pleasure of my orgasm.
It turns out that trying not to think about something when you're jacking off is about as successful as trying not to think about something any other time. Try as I might, the images in my mind as I worked toward an orgasm were those of being on my knees, naked, sucking a cock--Terrell's, which matched the color of the one on the video, Jerry's, which matched the size, or Pete's, which matched the load delivered.
And it wasn't just visual images. As I neared my climax, it was as if I could feel those cocks filling my mouth and taste the cum they deposited there. So, my jack off session was tainted. Still, I had an intense orgasm and shot a bigger load than I'd remembered shooting in a long time. I felt the temptation to wipe my cum up from my abdomen and taste it. But I resisted that temptation.
I hoped that, having drained my balls in my Friday afternoon whack off session, I might avoid some of the torture my tormentors had in mind for me tonight. Whatever they planned, maybe my body wouldn't respond in ways that humiliated me. I was wrong.
I showed up at the time and place Lori and Phyllis had specified. They were already there, sitting at a table with one empty chair. They motioned me to sit down. They opened a bottle of wine and poured three glasses, putting one in front of me. I figured it was safe enough to drink this. I didn't trust them at all. They'd drugged me before. But I'd watched them open the bottle and pour the wine for all three glasses. So, I took a big swig from my glass of wine.
"So, we're here to discuss some of the horrible acts you committed that brought us to this point," Lori led. "This evening, we want to talk with you about Mabel Wilson. Do you remember her?"
I nodded. Of course I remembered her. I'd let her go after just nine months with the company. She was a fat black woman who really didn't fit in the McNeeley Company.
"You fired her, right?" I nodded again.
"And why did you do that?"
I wasn 't going to say the real reason. So, I just said I didn't think she fit well with the team.
"Oh, was that the reason? And why did you think she didn't fit well?"
I shrugged, "She just didn't."
"Well, maybe this will refresh your memory." Lori pulled out a voice recorder and pressed the play button.
What the hell?! This was a recording of a private conversation that took place in my office.
I was feeling victimized by her violation of my privacy. But, more than that, I was feeling very uneasy because I knew what was on the recording.
I'd been talking on the phone with a friend who worked in another company. Somehow the conversation turned to the unpleasantness of firing people. And I complained that I was going to fire one of my employees the next day. He asked why the guy was being fired. That's when the relevant portion of the recording began.
"It's not a guy. It's a woman--a fat black woman. I can't stand looking at her. She must weigh 250 pounds and she's not more than 5'3". I mean, talk about disgusting!"
"Did she fuck up?" my friend asked.
"Naw, her work is fine. I just can't stand looking at her. And I can get someone else to do the work, someone who's friendlier to the eyes."
As I listened to the recording, I could tell that my friend's tone was disapproving, though I hadn't realized that at the time. But that was water under the bridge. The other thing I realized was that Lori and Phyllis had all the ammunition they needed for their holy quest against me.
About that time, just as I'd drained my wine glass, things started to get fuzzy.
"God damn you! You drugged me again."
"Yeah, we did," Phyllis said smugly. "We drank the same wine but your glass had a little pretreatment. This is going to be fun."
I was conscious but I didn't feel in control of my body. Phyllis began talking to me in exaggeratedly soothing tones. I tried to resist her control, but resistance was futile.
Within a few minutes, I was completely under Phyllis's control.
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"Strip!" she commands. When I'm completely naked, she goes on. "Now, Vicki, you're a very beautiful, sexy woman, with a slender body and beautiful breasts." She pauses. "Look at yourself."
I look down on my body. I'm gorgeous! The kind of woman any man would love to fuck.
"Go over to the table in the corner and get yourself dressed. You have a date and I know you're going to love it."
The clothes on the table are extremely sexy: black lace bra and panties, fishnet stockings and a black garter belt, high heels, and a sheer purple nightie. These obviously aren't for going out. My date is going to happen right here.
I love getting dressed in these and I admire my reflection in a mirror that's standing near the table.