An adult stories – Men, Digitally Mediated by Author2000,Author2000 Working in customer service requires empathy, patience, a desire to help with small struggles, a cheerful disposition and a hint of endearing innocence. Working in customer service for a software company with low-quality standards and irritable customers demands a great deal more. Few endure. The rough pounding, figuratively speaking, drives most to tears.
When she moved to San Francisco not that long ago, Annie ended up on the receiving end of said pounding.
After she graduated from high school in Flagstaff, Arizona, she worked as a waitress for a while. She was popular with the customers. But it did not feel quite right on the inside. Her soul drove her to go elsewhere and explore. Something out there had to be found — what exactly was a lot less clear.
The horny long-haul truckers, who groped her ass and tits, might have been a contributing factor to her desire to venture to new horizons. Though to be fair, Annie had exploited the good old tricks to earn extra tips. So the truckers with their hands on her body may have contributed to Annie’s exit from her high school town in more ways than one.
Although her San Francisco salary was higher on paper, once rent, tax and utilities were paid, little remained. But this was the place where stuff happened and young independent women went to make it, Annie had convinced herself, as she endured life in a studio apartment with thin walls, mouldy common areas and tents of homeless persons outside. She kept, however, her small rose petal among thorns delicately decorated with small plants, lots of pink and plushy cushions and a neatly organized, clean and fragrant washroom and shower.
On her screen, the light flashed that indicated a caller. The screen also showed some information about the request and the customer — this time it was Bernard from Menlo Park. On the screen, a reminder popped up: “Speak with a smile on your face, and the customer will smile at you.”
Annie clicked a button and she spoke the required welcome phrase with a clear and happy intonation, even a bit chirpy.
“Welcome to LuminaMyst Software, my name is Annie and I am your customer service agent. I am here to serve. How can I help you, Bernard, on this fine sunny day?”
“Listen, how you are still in business I don’t get. It is a piece of shit software you sell. Assholes! I spent hours this morning trying to make your service work. And I end up in some shit customer service that talks about the weather. Yes, the Bay Area weather is so interesting, so varied and original. Idiots!”
“Who writes these scripts and who is dumb enough to just follow the script they are given, despite being so obviously FUBAR?” Bernard continued. “Transfer me to an actual engineer, a man preferably, so I can get this resolved fast and properly, Annie — if that is your real name.”
The voice funnelled into Annie’s ears was angry and slightly suffocated as if too much fat and beard were blocking Bernard’s neck. Annie knew the script and continued with her happy and girly voice.
“I am so sorry to hear this Bernard. And yes, Annie is my real name, we at LuminaMyst Software are proud to have our customer service on-site… I am American, think of me as sweet and delicious apple pie and a fine white picket fence. Let me serve you, I am eager to do so, and if I cannot unburden you of your problems within fifteen minutes I will happily transfer you to the Engineering group.”
Bernard calmed down slightly, his breathing became less tense.
“Well then Annie, let us see if you are more than a Disney princess voice. I will avoid technical jargon so you keep up. So here it is. I need to denormalize a database because the idiots in management, who think the third normal form is a dildo shape specification, heard about NoSQL on a podcast driving to work, or some shit like that, but then when I run this data through your hellish API for validation, some crapplet pops up and fucks up the persistent object store. You know that the CAP theorem does not stand for cunt, ass and prick, right?”
Bernard continued to describe his problems and frustrations, cursing liberally. Annie was diligent and friendly and asked follow-up questions, and expressed sympathy for Bernard’s many problems and pain points.
Annie was not an engineer, she could code just a bit, which she thought was too ugly and abstract. However, she could read input, follow clear instructions and navigate decision trees. So within fifteen minutes, she had guided Bernard to a solution. He relaxed, but of course, he was also a bit angry a chirpy girl had fixed the issue so readily.
“Well, if you could write better instructions maybe people could figure this stuff out. Keep it simple stupid assholes, have you heard of that saying? My time is valuable you know!”
“Oh, thanks for sharing these great ideas, Bernard. You are so insightful and experienced, I can hear that. I will let our documentation team know. And I hope I have not inconvenienced you too much, but perhaps, I hope I have put a bit of figurative sunshine in your day, just as Mother Nature has done outdoors here in lovely and sunny California.” Annie giggled a bit — it was recommended practice. She continued according to the script.
“You have been my highest and only priority and I hope at least I have unburdened you a little this fine morning. Anything else I can do for you, Bernard?”
Bernard was silent for a while. Annie heard he was typing.
“Annie K Sunshine… that’s you, right? I searched on LinkedIn. You are a real babe. I wouldn’t mind feeling some of your sunshine on my body.”
Annie felt a brief sting in her belly. Yes, that was her. It was company policy, she had been told, to use real names… it made things more personable, more intimate, her manager had said.
“Yes Bernard, that is indeed me. Thanks for your very kind remarks” Annie replied, still with a happy chirpy voice. Bernard kept typing.
“Wow. Oh man! I found your Instagram Annie. Boner alert! You are smoking hot. If this customer service stuff doesn’t work out, you have some great tradable assets. This picture of you at a beach in a tight little pink string bikini… oh man. So fine. That bikini doesn’t cover much, does it? You can barely even fit a smooth little pussy under that tiny fabric. You must really like to let guys know exactly how tight and nice you are down there. I bet you still keep your pussy all smooth and pretty, you sure sound like that kind of girl. There is something about the voice of a girl who cares for her pussy like a little loveable pet, a beautiful creature of nature.”
Bernard breathed louder. Annie had indeed an Instagram account, which celebrated the feminine beauty of the universe. Annie liked to share images of flowers, trees, clothing and beautifully plated meals, all at high colour saturation, and every third or so image was one of herself in beautiful natural surroundings. And at times those pictures were a bit revealing. Her body was part of the beautiful feminine spirit of God’s great creation after all. She had enjoyed her playful visit to that Californian beach two weeks ago where she had posed in her new pretty bikini. It was good for engagement metrics too, truth be told.
“Bernard, I am happy you are pleased with our service… can I do anything else…”
“Tell me, did you massage your smooth little pussy this morning. Did you get fucked on that beach? I bet you had three dicks inside you that day, one for each hole. Fuck dolls like you cannot be satisfied with anything less. Describe your pussy, every little square inch of pink and tender girl parts. Tell me now bitch or I will rate you low on the feedback! You want me to do that?”
Annie heard a fly unzip on the other side of the connection. Annie’s bonus depended on the reviews and ratings given by the callers in feedback forms after the call. She felt used by this ugly angry filthy Bernard. But she had to comply — there was rent to be paid.
“Yes… it is smooth and pink” Annie whispered.
“I bet it gets all hot and steamy as apple pie when a fat dick is nearby. You are so clearly a total fuck doll, I can hear that. Tell me how you feel in the pussy when you are fucked. It is a small pussy right. So tight that guys have a hard time pulling out because of your pussy grip.”
Bernard was panting as he made his demands of Annie. As unpleasant as this was, Annie had been through this before. A decent-sized minority of the angry men that called and shouted abuse at her would at some point in the call turn to dirty words. It was as if Annie’s skill at giving comfort and release with respect to software problems triggered frustrated sexual needs in some men.
“Yes, it is a small little slit between my legs. When the three men on the beach that day forced open my legs my lips parted and my wet hole was revealed. They took turns, in and out, faster and harder, pressing me down into the sand. It hurt a little in the beginning, but I was soon moaning with so much pleasure as they thrust hard and mercilessly inside me.”
Annie created a story from fantasy and what she inferred about Bernard’s angry urges. That day at the beach had not involved any sex. Though in fairness, it had been a really nice beach on which a fat dick of a strong guy plowing hard and deep would no doubt feel amazing. But after Annie and her new friend Liz had taken their photos for various social media, they left the beach. Liz had been a bit more naughty and requested a topless picture with her tongue licking her lips — she had said a few images like that were good to have “among the dating instruments”. However, no penetrations on the beach had taken place.
“How long did they take you like the bitch you are?”
“It took fifteen minutes until they had filled me with their first loads. Then they spanked me and went in for seconds. It was another thirty minutes before they had filled me with their second loads and let me go.”
“You cum guzzler. You like to be all slimed up, choking on cum. You are perfect, you are not afraid to be pussy and nothing but pussy. Moan for me, as you moaned that day with all that anonymous surfer dick inside you.”
Annie began to moan and in less than ten seconds she heard Bernard grunt and curse. He then went quiet. Annie waited a few seconds.
“Bernard I thank you for your call today. I hope I have served you well and to your full satisfaction. Thank you for your continued loyalty to LuminaMyst Software” said Annie in her happy smiling voice, as the prescribed script required.
“I will call you next time when there is an issue… so within a week I bet Annie Sunshine. Be prepared, keep that pussy nice and willing,” said Bernard before he hung up.
Annie felt dirty. As if by some mechanism, Bernard had reached through the virtual world and soiled her with his fat, sweat, greasy neckbeard and piss-stained underwear… or at least that was how Annie imagined him in real life. Why are they like this? Why so angry and abusive? Annie had her moments of kinky fantasies — perhaps more than moments — and she was not unaware of the pleasures a stern man can create when he takes command of body and soul. But this? No thanks. And now he knew her name and her workplace and he would no doubt write all kinds of filth on her social media going forward.
Into Annie’s small office walked Nancy. She was the sales and customer management lead, one of the co-founders with an MBA from a fancy university in entrepreneurship and government affairs, who after five years at McKinsey in their customer satisfaction business engineering unit (or something like that) had joined forces with her friend Bill and started LuminaMyst Software. Nancy liked to say that customer satisfaction was the only competitive advantage that mattered, and she had designed the scripts and rules Annie followed in her calls.
“That went really well, Annie. I listened in on your call with Bernard. It was tough, he was angry, but he left satisfied thanks to your dedication to our core mission. Here, your reward.”
Nancy handed over a cheap piece of plastic in the shape of a small trophy on which it said “Outstanding Work in Customer Service Delivery”. Annie already had five ones, which she kept out of sight in a box under the bed.
“Nancy, I wonder, is it really okay, perhaps, what happened? I mean, customer service is not normally like this, is it? He was getting a bit aggressive, in a sexual kind of way, or you don’t think so, maybe?” said Annie in her insecure voice as Nancy stood above her looking down.
“Annie, I hear you. I truly do. I am certified in active listening, so I hear both what you say directly as well as indirectly. The truth is that customer satisfaction is the only competitive advantage that matters. You do very well on that. It can be hard at times. But remember: you control your reactions to things. If I was you, I would consider Bernard’s reactions and attention a compliment. Not many men would express such earnest interest from voice and image alone. Complaining about it definitely does not change anything for the better. I know you know this, but as a reminder and encouragement I will have that printed on a poster and put in your office” said Nancy in a patronizing voice.
“But, but… maybe if my service helps, and requires these sorts of, like, things, I should have a bit higher salary, perhaps. I know some developers make ten times as much as I and I thought that maybe…”
Annie was interrupted by Nancy who spoke even louder than before.
“Annie, I hear you. I truly do. But you have a high school education only, one from a flyover country, so I understand you don’t understand how this works. I don’t blame you. Salaries are set by competition in the free market, not by persons. It is about the emergent order. Your feelings or my feelings do not matter. You earn what you earn because that is what you are, emergently speaking, worth. Asking for more than your worth is like saying you want to walk on water if only someone higher up could change the water density. You see how silly that is. If you could code, do finance, legal or policy analysis, then it is a different story. Can you do any of that?”
“No” whispered Annie.
“Well then. I feel so much better now that we sorted this out. Communication is important, it is core to our level 5 company culture. I don’t want there to be any hard feelings, after all, you earned your sixth trophy today. And Annie, I know you know this, but just to be completely certain, your non-disclosure agreement forbids you to say anything about this, and we do enforce it.”
Nancy patted Annie on the shoulder. She pointed to the screen where an incoming call was flashing. This was “Sid” calling, an IT manager in the Fremont area.
“A smile on your face”, Nancy said. Annie answered.
“Welcome to LuminaMyst Software, my name is Annie and I am your customer service agent. I am here to serve. How can I…”
“Transfer me to Engineering now! Engineering, Engineering, Engineering! Not one minute more of some bimbo telling me to click on this menu or that button. This is a technical problem. Transfer right now, my time is valuable” shouted Sid angrily. Nancy patted Annie on the shoulder and left the small office. Annie breathed in and forced a smile on her face and with happiness in her voice, she began to serve Sid.
It was another six hours before the workday concluded.
After work, Annie returned home to cook food. It was important to cook food well, she thought. It was an art form and a proud tradition of nameless women over the millennia, and hence she resisted the trend to buy ready-made food or to have some algorithm assign and deliver ingredients and recipes to her door.
The usual homeless guy near her home had been “in the mood”. He had been pacing up and down on the sidewalk, his crooked dick flapping outside his brown pants, and he shouted lewd stuff to women who passed by. Annie had heard the shouting a block away, and she knew too well what was in progress, so she elected to walk another two blocks, then back on a different street to her apartment. That way she would not have to listen to another guy who screamed something about pussy after her.
Annie had cooked a black bean and red quinoa salad with a dash of sesame oil and a carefully balanced amount of shredded fresh rosemary and sage. With that, she ate a chunk of her home-baked coppia ferrarese bread on which she added a few slices of thin-cut Felino salami. It was Thursday, so the drink had to be non-alcoholic. Annie, therefore, mixed a basil strawberry virgin cocktail from basil she grew in a pot in her window. The taste was early summer, the aroma a fresh breeze of flowers, and the touch like short skirts and green grass. She ate alone.
This day had been demanding, Annie thought. Bernard had been outright unpleasant and Annie did not like to think of what Bernard might try to do with the online information he so easily had gathered. Another caller later in the day had asked about the clothes Annie wore. When he learnt it included a skirt, he asked how short it was. Thankfully that caller had not taken it further, though Annie suspected from prior experiences he might continue his queries up the skirt, so to speak, the next time he called customer service.
After a day like this, I need some quality time with my quality guy, Annie thought.
She walked over to her bed with its soft pink duvet and numerous cushions she had sewn and embroidered, and she laid down on her back. She reached in under her short skirt and pulled off the white thong she wore. She reached over to the side table and grabbed her favourite dildo. It had a bit of a bounce, and a slight curve, and along the shaft were fake veins. It was not too large, either in length or girth, and it had a well-sculpted head, which Annie teased between thumb and index finger. Most good guys enjoyed a bit of tip stimulation. She grabbed the base in her right hand and guided the tip downwards to her groin.
In her left hand, she grabbed her smartphone and opened up Instagram. She navigated to the page of Aarão Arnold-Mansfield, personal trainer, model, dance instructor and global entrepreneur. He was the very definition of delicious, Annie had concluded over a year ago when his profile was recommended to her. Each day he posted between two and four new images or videos. He knew how to wield the tools of his craft.
Aarão must know I had a tough day today, Annie thought, as she saw three new posts from yesterday and felt a tingle move up from between the legs to her breasts.
One photo was Aarão’s well-groomed body in swimming trunks, just about to jump into a pool, wide smile, and a mischievous look directed at the camera. Annie could just about see the outline of Aarão’s dick. That meaty beast was clearly bouncing upwards and at least semi-erect, its thickness above average. Annie moved the head of the dildo between her pussy lips and rubbed. Aarão was so clearly a guy who would tease a bit, he would not just push inside directly. Aarão no doubt would make the girl under him beg for the penetration.
The second photo was a close-up of Aarão’s face, smiling, slightly tilted to the side, his hair ruffled and wet and drips of pool water on his cheeks. His clear and color saturated eyes were so pronounced. He had great skills in photo editing. Annie lifted the phone above herself so that Aarão’s wet and smiling face was directly above her. She spread her legs a bit more and pressed the head past her lips and inside, slowly.
She knew that this is what it would be like. Aarão all smiles on top, and carefully he would guide his strong and healthy penis inside her. Her tight vagina, its pink, warm and loving embrace, would make him smile even more. He would utter a small grunt as the tender head of his dick became fully enveloped by Annie’s body. There he would be consumed by passion and his animal spirit would take over and guide the bodily motions. All men had that lurking under the surface.
He would plow her, thrust and command, all his muscles working hard, especially the strong and firm buttocks. Annie pressed the dildo deeper inside and began to move it rhythmically in and out at an increasing pace. She had to moan. Her hips moved rhythmically as well to further embrace Aarão’s strength. She kept her eyes open and maintained eye contact with Aarão as he took her.
Annie quickly scrolled to the next post: a video Aarão had uploaded. This was an excerpt from his dance instruction course. In the fourteen seconds of video, which looped on Annie’s smartphone screen, Aarão moved his hips in a circular fashion, thrusting his groin forward in the skin-tight black pants he wore. Annie paced her dildo movement to Aarão’s rhythm. Each time he thrust forward, Annie moved the dildo all the way inside. She felt Aarão’s force deep inside, her lips gripped the firm insertion tightly, and her inner thighs, armpits, neck and protruding nipples became so sensitive. It was impossible to hold back, and Annie moaned along with Aarão’s strong motion.
Annie had completely submitted to Aarão’s charm and manhood. He was in command. He filled her with comfort. And as in so many evenings before, the motion and command from above triggered in Annie a strong orgasm. She contracted and squeezed the dildo tightly, she pushed her pelvis upwards as if she had a seizure, her butt flexed, and from Annie’s mouth were heard quick and high-pitched screams and moans. Aarão’s movements remained just as strong and capable as ever.
Annie kept the dildo inside herself for another couple of minutes. She looked again at Aarão’s smiling face and she kissed his full lips.
“Stay inside me. I feel so empty without you. I need your warmth and strength” she whispered to him.
Soon the spell wore off, and Annie withdrew the dildo and put aside the smartphone. She showered quickly and cleaned the sex toy. It was soon weekend. Annie might go on a date, at least that was the plan, so maybe, she thought, some meat would be on the menu, hard meat.
Annie was soon wrapped in the fragrant and soft bedding. On her wall, a particularly alluring photograph of Aarão in nothing but a small towel looked down on her. A slight tug on the towel and his dick would pop out, wild and free.
Juxtaposed to it was a drawing of Saint Birgitta, drawn by her great-grandmother Sofia, which had been handed down to Annie when she turned eighteen. Saint Birgitta was a 14th-century saint from Sweden, who had lived a good and holy life, and in this drawing her gaze was aimed slightly downward, her face solemn. Exactly why her great-grandmother had drawn this and what spirit it contained was unknown to Annie. But it was a beautiful family artifact, so Annie had given the drawing a prominent place in her small apartment, despite that it seemingly clashed with Aarão’s perfect skin and sculpted torso.
Maybe I should ask Nancy to do some certified active listening and tell me about the non-verbal communication content of these images on my wall, Annie thought and rolled her eyes. In Nancy’s beige cubicle nation-state, there is nothing that cannot be reduced to a 400-word executive summary. Blind to mystery, Annie concluded.
Oh well, time to sleep, another day at work tomorrow. If I am lucky I will be called neither bitch, bimbo, slut or fuck doll tomorrow, Annie thought and fell asleep as she imagined a strong, hairy, warm, manly arm wrapped protectively around her.