Rebecca Loves Variety

I. Rebecca's Beginning at Howser

Rebecca shook her head like a sheepdog after a rainstorm. Today was her three-week anniversary at Howser and it had been a whirlwind. She navigated HR the first week, got up to speed on projects the second week, and this week she was hoping for some good news.

The last two weeks she been supporting Bob Hedging and Al McKee on a project focused on creating opportunities for the urban poor. Like most cities, Baton Rouge was an amalgam of rich and poor; the rich were mobile and conspicuous, the poor were residential and invisible. She knew poverty--balancing bills, timing direct deposits, and skipping meals--and now she knew wealth, at least in part, but she'd never forget her poverty. Sitting in on several of Bob and Al's meetings, she was able to put a real-life face to the issues and solutions related to the project.

Her email chirped. HR was calling again, although this request came from the director. She sat in a chair across a large desk as Brad Middlebury closed the office door. He seemed in a hurry, or preoccupied, or socially awkward. The office felt busy, even if nothing was moving.

"You look familiar," said Brad. "Do we know each other already?"

"No," said Rebecca, "not that I'm aware of." She watched Brad more closely, but still didn't recognize him.

"It'll come to me; it always does. In any event, I have a question."

Rebecca was intrigued, even if Brad was being a bit... abrupt? Stiff? She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something was off with him, an edge. She'd figure it out.

"Are you a company Queen?" said Brad.

Wow. Her brain wasn't anywhere near that question. He was the first person to broach that topic since she arrived, which surprised her. Unfortunately, the question was direct and unavoidable; her body warmed with embarrassment, not quite fight or flight, but she was definitely focused.

"Yes," said Rebecca, "is that why I'm here?" She wasn't sure yet of the protocol for requesting services from a Queen. Maybe this was normal. "Am I in trouble?"

"Yes and no." Brad clicked his pen sizing up Rebecca. "Yes, that's why you're here, and no, you're not in trouble. I'm friends with Michael Daston, VP of Marketing. We play golf together and he shared with me your interview. If you can call it that."

Rebecca's mind flashed back to her original meeting with the President and Mr. Deston. It certainly got out of hand. Margaret had a standing weekly meeting with the Howser President each Wednesday, a combination weekly update and blowjob session. She tagged along to meet the President, knowing it might lead to a thank-you-for-hiring-me blowjob, but quickly devolved into the President and Mr. Deston taking turns in her pussy.

"He told me about your visit and I've been waiting for you." Brad moved around his desk and stood in front of Rebecca; his hands deep in his pockets. "I wanted to meet you sooner, but I've been in Germany working with clients since you arrived."

Rebecca said, "You've been waiting for me?" That was either incredibly sweet or incredibly creepy. It didn't surprise her that the President or Mr. Daston had shared their encounter with her. Men can be blabby about things like that. "Ok."

Brad put his hand on her shoulder as he walked to the middle of his office and unbuckled his pants, letting them drop to the floor, followed by his underwear. There it was, thought Rebecca, a king-sized cock bending upward, proud and stiff as a board.

"Well... it isn't going to suck itself, slut," said Brad. "Get your ass over here and show me why you were hired."

"I was hired--"

"Get on your knees, I hear you're quite the fucking cocksucker."

Her temperature rising, she stood and moved toward Brad, weighing her options. She knew there would be men at Howser who would want to denigrate her for her sexuality; she'd met them before, several times. "The meeting with the President wasn't an interview."

"You can say that again, slut."

Rebecca hesitantly dropped to her knees in front of Brad. She wasn't fearful, she was just annoyed.

"From what Michael told me, you couldn't wait to jump on their dicks."

She grabbed the base of his oversized cock and said, "That's not how it happened. It was Margaret's meeting with the President, I was just along for the meet and greet." Brad's cock was big and hard, which she liked, but his arrogance was obnoxious. She stroked him.

"Is that what they call it in your neck of the woods? Meet and greet? Seems to me it was more suck and fuck."

Rebecca relented as Brad pushed his cock into her mouth. She wasn't willing to violate her Queen's oath in her first month on the job, even if Brad was vile. It wouldn't be the first time she let a man of questionable value use her. "Ass."

"Hey, slut, I'm not the one who fucked the President just to get the job," said Brad.

"Neither am I." Rebecca normally liked being called a slut, but Brad was just being mean. "I already had the job before that happened." She couldn't remember the last time she hadn't liked giving a man a blowjob. "I was being polite."

"Little girls get scared, big girls get busy," said Brad, "and you're definitely not a little girl." Brad grinned as he squeezed her tits. They felt every bit as good as they looked, natural.

Rebecca swirled her tongue around his head and guided his cock into her mouth. She was taking her time getting his cock wet and lubricated--the last couple of inches were going to be a challenge. After several minutes, Brad withdrew from her and walked away, sitting back down in his office chair.

"Come on, trailer park princess, crawl over here on your knees and blow me while I sit at my desk." Brad stroked his cock as he watched the new hire. "Just like the college interns do."

She crawled around his desk on her hands and knees, seething and submissive. She felt bad for the interns and wanted to make a stand, literally and figuratively, but she was a company Queen and she desperately needed the job for her family.

How such an offensive man could have such a nice cock, was unfair. Stroking him she knew it was time to slide him into her mouth and down her throat. She couldn't bring herself to give a bad blowjob. She began slowly, deliberately.

Brad said, "Wendy, get in here?" Rebecca looked up at Brad. "Keep sucking, slut."

"What can I do for you, Mr. Middlebury?" said Wendy.

"I've been trying to figure out where I know Miss Rebecca from. Do you recognize her?"

Rebecca looked up from Brad's cock. She tried to smile, but all she could muster was an embarrassed grimace. She knew she looked slutty with Wendy's boss in her mouth and she wasn't particularly proud of it. She didn't mind being slutty, in fact enjoyed it, but not with creeps.

"No, sir," said Wendy. "Will that be all?"

"Rebecca," said Brad. "Take off your shirt."

Rebecca did as she was told, throwing her shirt onto the couch. As a Queen she was to obey, although she pretty much always obeyed.

"Recognize her now?"

"No," said Wendy, who turned around and left, closing the door behind her as Brad laughed.

"That woman has no sense of humor."

"Have you forced her to suck your cock yet?" said Rebecca.

"I don't force, I motivate, and surprisingly, no." Brad put his hand on the back of Rebecca's head and encouraged her sucking. "I've been trying to motivate her for two years. She's great at her job or else I'd fired her."

Given the size of his cock and how hard he was, Rebecca found she couldn't get her throat in the right position to take all of him. She stood up, hovering over the top of his cock, and lowered her face down.

"Oh, that's it, slut," said Brad. "Try to take it all in. Give it the old trailer park try. No one ever has, so don't feel bad when you fail." He put his hands behind his head and leaded back, enjoying the view.

Rebecca pushed her face toward Brad's lap, over and over, each time gaining a little more ground. She could feel herself getting red as the blood ran to her face. "Grab my hair and pull my face down. Force me."

"Begging, I like that. We are going to get along just fine."

She knew that Brad would love to demonstrate his power over her; show her that his cock was too big to swallow. She tried to relax as he seized her head with both hands. Rough. It took him several times pushing her face into his crotch for his cock to open up the rest of her throat and she found her nose pressing against his stomach. As best she could with her mouth and throat stuffed, she howled.

"Holy fuck," said Brad. "What the hell." He removed his hands from her head.

Rebecca raised up off Brad's cock and leaned against his desk, mostly to stop her from flopping over on the floor. It was one thing to be a slut, it was another to be an undignified slut. She was lightheaded. Pridefulness consumed her--conquering the unconquerable cock.

"I always get my cock," said Rebecca raising her arms in victory, her tits jiggling. "Always."

Rebecca reveled in the confusion that occupied Brad's face. She took pleasure in always being able to deep throat a man's cock.

"Martin!" said Brad.

Rebecca jumped back.

"That's it," said Brad. "Now I recognize you. Goddamn, you're Rebecca Martin, Roy Martin's wife. That asswipe from the charity softball game a few years ago. I knew I'd remember. I never forget a face... or tits."

Hearing Brad shout her married name, and then her ex's, almost gave her a heart attack. Her ex antagonized the other team during that game, a charity game. It was bad. She remembered crying when, after the game, he grabbed her roughly by the arm and dragged her back to the car. She felt humiliated.

"Holy shit," said Brad. "I can't fucking believe it. Get back down here Miss Prim-and-Proper slut and suck my dick again. Rebecca Martin. Ho-ly fuck."

Rebecca, emotionally confused, did as she was told. Her brain was spinning as she licked Brad's head.

"This could not get any fucking better. The new hire and Roy Martin's wife sucking my dick."

"Ex-wife," said Rebecca. "I'm not Martin anymore." Her cock sucking victory seemingly long gone; her embarrassment filled her body.

"Revenge may best be served cold, but in this case, revenge is best served with that asshole's wife on her knees worshiping my big dick."

Rebecca had to admit that getting the bully's wife to suck your cock was a good source of revenge. The thought twitched her pussy. She wasn't much into revenge and she wasn't sure she liked being someone else's, but with Brad's hard cock in her mouth, she was having less trouble with it than she might otherwise.

"I'm guessing he has a small pecker," said Brad. "Loud mouth, small dick."

Rebecca didn't want to give Brad the satisfaction, but she hated her ex a lot more than she despised Brad. "He does, and I'm now his ex-wife. Divorced. Four years. No ring." She held up her hand in demonstration.

"Look up," said Brad.

Rebecca looked up to find Brad taking pictures of her with his phone. She bared her teeth, like she was going to bite off his cock.

"Easy girl," said Brad.

She almost laughed through her resentment. Despite her irritation, she wanted to look good sucking his cock. She never knew who might be looking at the pictures of her. Now that she knew she could take this entire cock, she worked her head farther and farther down until her nose reached his stomach. It wasn't quite the original victory, but it was still satisfying.

"Oh, you are one classy bitch," said Brad, "taking that dick like a pro. Who knew that Roy Martin was married to an easy-ass cocksucker. I am having quite the day."

"He never did," said Rebecca, "that's for sure." She bobbed her head on Brad's cock. "He was straight vanilla."

"Ol' Roy never knew you were a slut? That's even better. What a tool."

"Never." Rebecca licked his shaft and then his balls.

Brad picked up his phone, "You are never going to believe this... Remember that softball game we had a few years back where that guy got all out of hand?... Yeah, that's right, Roy Martin, the douche bag asshole... Well, I've got his wife here in my office... right in front of me, on her knees, sucking my dick... I shit you not, I just sent you some pictures... God, to die for, like you've never seen... perfect tits... No, turns out she's a complete slut... That's what I said, who knew?"

Rebecca had stopped sucking and said, "What are you doing?"

"Slut, I'm on the phone," said Brad waving Rebecca back to his dick. "Yeah, let Walt know and get your ass up here."

Rebecca adjusted her bra as Brad stood up and walked back to the center of his office, taking off his shirt. He was naked, with his hard cock projecting out from his otherwise skinny body. His proportions were off, thought Rebecca, he should either be more muscular or have a smaller cock--more muscular if she had a choice.

Brad said, "Take off your pants and come here, slut. You should really be nicer to me. I'm going to fulfill your dreams."

"Unlikely," said Rebecca. It was clear to her that Brad had an exaggerated sense of the value of his cock, but when he slapped her ass, she shuttered. "Ow." Her pussy dampened. Nonchalantly, she stroked his cock as they waited.

"That was quick," said Brad, as two men entered the office.

"Are you kiddin'," said the first man through the door, "after the pictures you sent, we flew jets up here." The man looked Rebecca up and down. "Fuck me dead, she's built for serious fuckery."

Rebecca could feel her face redden as the man gawked at her tits.

"Gentleman, I present to you Roy Martin's slut wife, Rebecca. She just spent the last half hour on her knees," said Brad." This is Pat and Walt, first base and pitcher, members of that softball team your husband was such a dick to." He was pleased with himself. "Give us a spin, slut."

"I'm so sorry about that," said Rebecca, twirling in a circle for the men, her tits jiggling. She knew she hadn't done anything wrong, but it still seemed like there needed to be an apology. "Ex-wife."

"Unleash the twins, cunt," said Walt, reaching for her bra. "Ain't no time to be bashful."

Rebecca caught her bra as it slipped off her tits. Judging by the men's responses, they didn't seem to mind. Her pussy responded and she arched her back, just a bit. She was certainly the center of attention and she liked that. Walt reached out and started to grope her tits. She smiled at him, encouragingly. She liked being a play thing for men.

"They're just begging for abuse," said Walt. "I bet those titties love to be roughed up." He smashed her tits together and bounced them on his hands.

Rebecca was fine with Walt's vulgarity and appreciated his forwardness. She wasn't prudish, never was. There was only one word she wouldn't tolerate. As for her tits being roughed up, she said, "Of course."

"How'd a witless jackass like Roy end up humpin' a prom queen like you?" said Pat.

"Good question," said Brad. "How did you end up with that asshole?"

"I was at a low point in my life," said Rebecca. "Not one of my better decisions." She didn't like to think about where her life was at that point. "Something I later rectified."

"That must've been some low point, cunt," said Walt, tweaking her nipples. "I've been down and out, but never so far I'd get shackled to some scumbag."

"I'd just lost my confidence." She watched the two new men disrobe and her wetness increased. "Settled for a lesser man than I deserved." Standing in the middle of the three naked men, it was hard not to get excited. "Things have changed."

Walt stepped forward, his dick swaying side to side. "I guess you were his trophy wife, eh, cunt." He pulled on his dick, speeding his growing hard on.

"I'm not a trophy wife," said Rebecca. She'd never been called that before and didn't like it. Trophy wives were mindless women with no purpose or no control over their lives. "That's not me."

"Nothing personal, cunt, but you've got trophy wife written all over you. I bet that motherfucker loved having you and your tits around, but only when there were others to see what a lady's man he was."

Fuck. Rebecca had never thought about it that way, but Walt was right--he was nice to her in front of people, and an asshole as soon as they left. She tolerated him for so long because that was how she was raised and because he was the father of her children. Trophy wife. Another reason to hate him. Fuck.

"Suck my hog, cunt," said Walt, pushing her to her knees. "I'm betting you spend all your free time begging for dick."

Walt was at least partially right, she almost always had cock on her mind, but only occasionally had to beg for it. Something must have shown, she had a lousy poker face.

"You do beg, don't you, cunt," Walt said, and then started to brush his cock across Rebecca's emotionally transparent face. "You're a pervert's dream come true."

Rebecca started stroking and then sucking Walt's cock. Pat moved closer and took his turn groping her tits. She purred and deep throated Walt, working his cock with her tongue. He was crude, but he had a nice cock.

"You've got yourself a mighty-fine rack," said Pat. He pulled on Rebecca's nipples and watched her tits shimmy. "We want to see more of your hooters around the halls, consider bras optional for you from now on."

"Yes, sir," said Rebecca. She never got tired of men fawning over her tits and she loved having her nipples squeezed and pinched. Going braless, however, often made life difficult as her tits liked to wander and bounce, which men enjoyed but could be embarrassing in public. At least she didn't have big nipples, so she didn't usually worry about them showing through her clothes.

"This begging cunt can sure suck a dick, Jesus H Christ." Walt grabbed Rebecca's hair and rocked her head on his dick. "Suck it, cunt, suck it like your life depended on it."

Rebecca was powerless to resist. She hung onto Walt's hips as he slung her head around with his cock buried deep.

"Brad, how'd you find her?" said Pat, kneeling behind Rebecca, messaging her tits. "These would make a cow blush."

"She's a new hire under Margaret," said Brad, "and you know Margaret. Lucky for us, it appears that she follows in Margaret's footsteps, both sluts, both fucked their way into the Foundation."

"I didn't fuck my way in," said Rebecca, pushing away from Walt. "I already had the job when the President fucked me."

"Whoa," said Walt, "you already spread those long legs for the President? Well, I'll be a motherfucker."

"Tell me this, slut." said Brad. "How many of your bosses have you fucked."

"That's not the same thing. I already had those jobs, too." This wasn't going the way she'd planned.

"How many, slut?"

Rebecca had never thought about "how many" before; she simply did what she did, never considering it an accomplishment or competition. She just liked cock. She knew fucking to get a job was entirely different, and frowned upon, than fucking once you had the job.

Her thoughts shifted to the Baptist Church where she'd worked for many years and most of those years, she fended off the deacons and elders, even though they'd squeeze her ass or "accidentally" brush against her tits, from time to time. She considered it part of being a Southern woman.

But the last year she worked there, after her divorce, things changed, and got a little crazy. No longer under her ex's thumb, she allowed herself greater sexual freedoms. One particular elder at her church must've gotten wind of her divorce, as he pushed her quite hard until she gave into his advances one afternoon, letting him take her in the church's kitchen.

After that and for her final year at the church, she was fucked weekly, by several of the elders, including her boss. After leaving the church, she worked at the local Elementary school for three years before coming to Howser. It wasn't until a few weeks before leaving the school that she fucked her principal, a tall black man with a very large cock--those were three amazing weeks.