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As a brief recap, I had separated from the Navy a few weeks ago after six years in submarines. Growing bored of lounging around my parents’ house, I began a job search, and to my surprise I found myself in an interview a short time later. An interview, believe it or not, that ended with my having sex with my hiring manager. My job, should I choose to accept it, was to sexually service the women of Foxx Inc. Just based on the interview, good work if you can get it.
Friday evening after the interview went by in a blur, or more of a daze I guess. After a couple of hours staring at the ceiling wondering if I was still in the same reality, I realized the truth: my reality had, in fact, changed. Picking up the booklet given to me by the HR Rep, Ms. Olson, I took a deep breath and started to read. Some of the material was plain, for example, requirements for my workout regimen, typically working hours, parking, security procedures, and general responsibilities akin to those of a building manager. However, as I expected, other parts were anything but plain.
The Provider of Building Services, PBS, is responsible for meeting the sexual needs of the female staff of Foxx Inc according the rules, procedures, and customs identified herein. Every day a certain number (controlled by HR) of randomly selected women have access to the PBS spaces via key card. While more than one woman may be in the spaces at a time, the doors will only permit access to women on the services roster for that day.
I wondered who, if anyone, checked up on this in practice. Limiting access helped with privacy to some extent, but someone had to know. Most likely security, but I supposed you have to trust someone. I read on.
Unless expressly permitted by additional guidance (e.g., Special Circumstances), the PBS shall provide services described herein strictly within the confines of the PBS spaces.
One particularly interesting section was about staff key cards. Usage of one card was something that probably should have been moved to my security indoc. A set of trigraphs on the front of the badge indicated clearances, and these were to be matched with door mounted placards prior to attempting entry to a secure space. Attempting access to an unauthorized space was a security violation.
A second key card had a completely different set of trigraphs.
As there are situations in which the PBS may find himself engaging in an act with a staff member without prior discussion, trigraphs on the reverse indicate acceptable acts without prior agreement.
Wow, I stopped reading and mused about how that situation might, er, arise. I flipped to the back of the booklet and read over some of the codes. They were numerous, and included “VSX”, “ASX”, “OSX”, “FOX”. These stood for, as you might have guessed, vaginal sex, anal, oral and fellatrix (sort of). There were a couple dozen of these, catering to most sexual acts I’d either done or thought of. I supposed I had better keep the ‘decoder ring’ nearby for the first few weeks to be sure I didn’t misstep. Then there were some modifiers, such as:
When servicing staff members wearing blue or black lipstick, ejaculation, should it take place, is to be inside the woman’s mouth.
What a place to go to work!
The PBS shall shower after each encounter and log in his work calendar when complete. This is so the next woman desiring to take advantage of the service has a good idea of when to show up after a sufficient rest period.
I wondered how the duration of my rest period was to be determined, then I shrugged. Something to worry about later.
Special circumstances. From time to time there may be modifications to these rules put forward for specific periods of time. The terms and conditions of these events will be published ahead of time so as to prevent confusion. As an example, quarterly a “Free Use” day event is held. On such days, subject to the specific terms of the day, the PBS may make sexual use of any staff member wearing a blue or black dress or skirt without prior agreement. This may occur at any time, in any part of the building. The PBS alone is responsible for ensuring no embarrassment befalls Foxx Inc. as a result. For example, it would not be appropriate to engage a staff member in intercourse or have her perform fellatio, while visible on a conference call with persons outside of the firm.
As if things could not get any stranger, here I was reading about how my new place of work had days with sex on demand for myself as well! Once again, wow.
Weekends. In the unusual event that staff are scheduled to work hours in the office on a weekend or holiday, the PBS will be paid on an exponential scale according to how many staff are serviced during the time. There are no access limits during these times.
In general the PBS should expect from three to six visits per day. If the PBS is unable to provide service on request, this will be logged and the staff member provided a ‘rain check.’ Repeated inability to provide service may be grounds for termination. Based on past history, the PBS is discouraged from personal sexual relationships as well as masturbation on days prior to work (aka, school nights).
Having finished most of the reading, the thought of rubbing one out did cross my mind. However, I decided to take a pause and look forward to Monday. Besides, there were things I needed to take care of.
For one, I needed a place to live now that I had a job. I scoured some real estate sites and made some appointments for weekend viewings. It was time to leave my parents, though at least I’d still be living nearby.
For another, I needed appropriate attire for work as described by Ms. Olson. I searched for uniform retailers and identified several in town. I also still had my submarine coveralls, which had the advantages of comfort and ease of access. I figured my underwear selection needed a boost as well, so some department stores got added to the list.
After night’s sleep punctuated by reliving my encounter with Ms. Olson, my Saturday was filled with visits to apartments (I didn’t have enough stuff to warrant a whole house) and stops at uniform suppliers. On the second try I found exactly what I was looking for: a wide variety of uniforms, and custom made at that. The staff took my measurements before having me page through their on-line catalog of uniforms. Auto repair shops, custodial staff, HVAC companies, plumbing companies, and even a couple security companies. If they thought it strange I was ordering all kinds of different clothes, they didn’t say anything about it. And though I was eager to tell someone of my good fortune, I did not. I did, however, tell them of my need to have at least one available on Monday, one on Tuesday, and the rest soon after. And with appropriate name badges, which were just random male names instead of mine alone. Although it would cost 50% more, they said they could deliver.
It wasn’t until Sunday afternoon that the perfect apartment crossed my path. The building was a new mixed development, with reasonably spacious apartments in the floors over retail stores and restaurants. Best of all it was located only a couple miles from Foxx Inc. There were a couple of furnished units and I could move in at once. I called my Dad and told him I’d stop by in a couple of days, but that I was moving to an apartment across town. My parents were out of town on vacation, and I didn’t want to surprise them when they came home and found me gone.
I drove my small amount of belongings across town, signed the paperwork, provided my deposits, received my keys and moved in.
———-
My first uniform, that of an HVAC tech from a local company, arrived Sunday in the late afternoon. It fit perfectly and sported the name “Joe” on the tag.
Early Monday morning I went for a run and had some breakfast before heading to Foxx Inc. There was no way I was going to be late, let alone on my first day, and I arrived a good thirty minutes early. Unlike late Friday afternoon, the parking complex was quite full. Upon entering I noticed the assigned spots, only there was a new sign. It read “T Jeffries, PBS”. I parked there, and rather than sit in the car until 0900, and I went on into the building.
Again, unlike Friday afternoon, the reception desk was manned. Well, that’s not actually correct. A young woman, who could not have been more than nineteen, sat attentively behind the desk. She was looking right at me when I came through the doors. She stood at once and came around the desk, hand extended. “Hello,” she paused and looked at my name badge with some confusion, “Are you the new PBS, Joe?”
I shook her hand and nodded, my blue-gray uniform appearing to be on point. I said, “In the flesh.” To my surprise, she blushed, but did not say anything else. I continued, “I’m afraid I don’t know the first thing I’m supposed to do. Do you have any ideas? Or maybe, Ms. Olson?”
She shook her head and smiled, “Forgive me. I’m Allie. And yes, I do have the plan for your first day. If you will follow me?” She then turned and took me down the same path I had taken on Friday. Entering what I figured was now my office, she said, “Please take a seat and I’ll let security know you are here.”
I nodded, then did as she asked. Sitting down I opened up the small fridge behind the desk and found several bottles of water, Coke Zero, Diet Mountain Dew and pineapple juice. I was once again impressed at their knowledge of things that would not be documented anywhere, namely my choice of low calorie drinks. Then I smiled when I thought back to Ms. Olson’s comment about pineapple juice. I took one and opened it. No sooner had I done that when the door opened and a woman, guessing in her late twenties, entered the room. She was average height, somewhere less than five and a half feet, slim build, with dark brown hair and eyes. She was wearing a black shirt and slacks and the badge around her neck identified her as Susan Moss, site security. Her face was angular and sharp, maybe indicating some Native American heritage. She was quite good looking. The look in her eyes was, well, hungry. I stood and extended a hand. She read my name tag and said, “Joe? I didn’t think that was your name.” She shook my hand with a firm grip, then shrugged. “I’ll need a photo ID before generating your badge.”