Nicole Makes Some Compromises For The Cause — Part 1
Nicole Messer was always a hard worker with a strong feminist streak. She was told her whole life that women had no place in the world of business, politics, education, law, or any other area where real decisions affecting the lives of others mattered. She disapproved of this obviously outdated and unsupportable theory as a young woman, and then disproved it in high school, in college, and now in her career. She was an A student. She was president of her high school class, and valedictorian of her college class. She worked her way up through the business world until she started her own company, aggressively beating “male dominated” companies with better services at lower costs to her many clients, and with better results. She occasionally hired men to work at her company, but did her best to actively recruit women directly out of college and to poach those outstanding women working for unequal pay from other companies. She made a name for herself in the business world and in the political arena. Although she did not run for any office, she supported progressive candidates, usually successfully, and had an open door relationship with most of the elected officials in her city and state. If she wanted something, she pretty much got it.
As her company grew in size and profits, Nicole took on other issues that someone of her stature, still under 40 years old too, could do. She supported progressive causes with fundraisers, hosting meet and greets for all the important people on any given issue, and basically becoming a king maker—or as she preferred—queen maker.
Despite her many successes, she still faced the problem that she saw facing the entire world really, the failure of many in the business and political arenas to give women a fair chance, and even when they succeeded, fair title and pay. Nicole decided to make it her personal goal for the rest of her career to champion women’s rights. She started a non-profit company to raise awareness, support politicians, and to boycott those unfavorable to equal rights. The company—Women Organized for Rights and Equality (W.O.R.E., which she pronounced as “war,” as in she was at war with the establishment)—had everything it needed, except enough money. Nicole certainly donated quite a bit of her own cash to the company. But even though she was a success, even a millionaire at this point, she was not a hundred-millionaire and certainly not a billionaire. To run the company, she knew that it would need 10 million dollars in annual revenue plus an endowment of another 200 million dollars to ensure long-term success.
She made plenty of calls and hosted many events. While she raised enough to last a couple of years, she needed a huge infusion of cash donations—likely $100-150 million dollars in the next year if the company had any hope of lasting and achieving its lofty goals.
The problem of course is that with a few exceptions, the hundred-millionaires and the billionaires were all men, and men who used misogyny and the patriarchy to gain their fortune—in fact mostly through inheritance, not merit, the way Nicole did, and the way she wanted her fellow women entrepreneurs to do. She needed those men to act against their best interests and donate large piles of cash. Nicole knew that in the end, the goals of her organization were for the best interests of all of society—even the ultra-rich. They just had to see that short term losses—by paying fair and equal wages for example, or by hiring women in key positions—would ultimately lead to better results and more income for the ultra-rich and their companies too. Making the very rich see that, however, would be a task. Rich people do not look too long-term, even at long-term profits, if losses are any part of the equation.
She decided that the best bet to start would be someone she already knew. John Johnson was a long-time friend of her dad who was one of the richest men in town. Yes, he inherited lots of money, but he also made a far larger—like filthy rich larger—through his tech company. She had known him as long as she could remember. While he was definitely a sexist pig like her father, like almost every man from that generation really, he seemingly had a big heart and was always supportive of Nicole when she was young. Sure he always stared at her chest, but he never went way out of his way too stare. He even mentored her a bit while she was in college and offered her a job when she graduated. But the offer was more of a secretarial position and one that meant her chest would be on display for his eyes regularly. She politely declined when she got a much better offer.
Nicole called his assistant and asked if she could meet him for lunch later in the week. She was told that he would be too busy and did not have any openings until 3 months down the road. Nicole sighed and took what she could. The next day, however, she was surprised when she was told that he was calling her. She picked up quickly.
“Mr. Johnson, what a pleasant surprise.”
“Mister? I’ve known you since you were a little girl Nicki, back when you called me Uncle John. You can still call me that I hope, just as I can still call you Nicki, I trust?”
Nicole smiled. She wanted to be professional, but she knew him basically her whole life and would eventually be asking him for lots of money. No reason to be overly formal now, especially since it was just a phone call. “Of course Mr. Joh … Uncle John.”
“Good. Listen, I know you are busy saving the world,” he chuckled mildly, although Nicole cringed on the other end of the phone—why do old men make it so that doing the right thing sounds so silly?—“so I won’t waste your time. I see that my assistant set us up for a lunch in 3 months or so. She didn’t know who you were. I’ve cleared my calendar. How about tomorrow? My treat. Top of the Tower. Say 1:00, so we miss the rush and can really talk.”
Nicole smiled. It was good to know people. “Wow. I really appreciate Mist… Uncle John. See you then.”
Nicole hung up when it hit her. Top of the Tower?!?! That is the fanciest restaurant in town. I wonder if they have a dress code. All I wear is pants suits anymore. Shit!
She called and sure enough, women were required to wear dresses or skirts with hosiery. Men were required to wear suits and a tie, and were forbidden from taking off their suitcoat. Damn! I’ll go home early to see what I have. I might have to shop. Still, it’s for the cause.
Nicole finished working on several upcoming events related to women’s rights—a march, a music concert fundraiser, a political rally against the sitting mayor, among others. She then told her assistant that she was leaving early. She went home to heck her wardrobe. Sure enough, she hadn’t worn a dress or skirt in almost 5 years. Nothing really fit well. One dress looked promising, but Nicole last wore it 7 years ago at a friend’s wedding. Apparently 7 years for a woman now in her mid-30s means about 20 pounds and maybe an extra size up in bra cup—Nicole was already a DD when she last checked. She usually wore “extra-large” minimizer bras now days and hadn’t had a bra fitting in years. She sighed and drove off to a women’s clothing store that would have the right dress for such an exclusive restaurant.
Nicole met a clerk at the store, who claimed she was fashion consultant. Nicole knew—she was just a saleslady. Still Nicole needed help and it was certainly not her place to tell a woman that she was not in the right vocation. “Hi. I’m looking for a dress for the Top of the Tower.”
“Oh, you’ve come to the right place. Is this a first date? Anniversary? Perhaps a … tryst?” The woman giggled.
“Of course not! I’m not even …” Nicole reminded herself that despite her efforts, there were woman who dressed solely to please men. She would someday have something to say about that, but not here, not now. “… sorry miss. It’s just a business luncheon. But I haven’t worn a really nice dress in years and …”
The woman smiled. “Not to worry. You are…?”
“Sorry. Nicole. Nicole Messer.”
“Excellent Miss Messer, I’m …”
“It’s Ms. Messer.”
“Excuse me?”
“Ms. Not Miss. Ms. Messer.”
“My apologies Ms. Messer. I’m Kacie Gordon. You can call me Kacie. Let me show you what we have.”
Kacie showed Nicole several very nice dresses, all cut a bit too short for Nicole’s liking, but nothing risqué. The bigger problem was Nicole’s … BIG problem, her chest. Each dress would require some sort of fancy bra or those stick-on cups that really aren’t bras at all. Nicole had Kacie measure her. 36E. Kacie told Nicole that she was a 34DD herself, so she understood the difficulty of harnessing “the girls,” particularly as they began to lose their battle with gravity. Still Kacie was able to find Nicole a very nice bra—all lace, pretty, pink—that would go with just about any dress. Kacie even suggested the matching set, including the panties and garter belt. Nicole selected those and even a few pairs of stockings—beige, black, and white. She rejected Kacie’s suggestions of additional bright colors of red, blue, pink, and purple. Nicole knew that such colors, while certainly a girl’s choice, sent a message of a less than serious person.
Yet, the dress they finally opted for required the bra stick-on cups instead of a bra. Nicole hadn’t worn those stick-ons since high school, when she was a young (perky) D cup. They offered no support, but at least would keep her nipples from being prominent in the otherwise relatively thin top of the dress. Nicole bought a set of those too and thanked Kacie for her help. Nicole had some reservations about the dress given that she would have no bra support for her—damn, E cups now! Still, the dress was otherwise very pretty and she looked great in it. She got a pair of 4 inch heels that added to how well she looked in the dress. She paid and went home knowing that she would look the part and hopefully be able to convince Uncle John that he should donate millions to the cause and even better, get his rich friends to do the same.
The next day, Nicole applied the stick-on cups to her massive, but not fully perky, Es, slid on her new panties and garter belt—even without the matching bra, it would be a shame to not wear the rest of the set given the cost—and beige stockings. She knew from her mom that panties went on last so that she would not have to undo the garter straps when going to the ladies room. Then she put on her dress and was pleased that she could still look good in a dress. It was a bit short, but her garter straps did not show, although the bumps under the dress were slightly apparent. She slipped on her heels. She looked over herself in the mirror. She looked pretty good for someone getting close to 40. And despite what was underneath the dress, she did not look like some slut, but instead a professional woman attending at fine establishment, which was exactly what she was. Nicole was aware, however, as she walked to her car, with her heels way up, that the dress was thin enough that without a bra, her girls were bouncing rather significantly. Still, she would be sitting most of the time and she was running late—no time for a wardrobe change now.
On the ride over, Nicole noted how hot it was that day. Luckily her $80,000 car had all the bells and whistles … until the AC died on the way to the office. She tried rolling down the windows, but her hair was becoming a tangled mess. She suffered through the heat, but once she was inside her office, the comfort of the cool air also told her that her stick-on cups were melting off her breasts. She checked herself in a mirror in her private ladies room and saw that they were peeling away and poking oddly at the fabric of her dress. It looked like she had sheets of cardboard sticking out. Damnit! Nicole undid the top of her dress and peeled them off. She then re-did herself and saw that it didn’t matter. The stick-ons added no support anyway, so nothing lost in that department. She smiled and went back to her office, telling her personal assistant to increase the A/C just a bit as she was still feeling the effects of the hot ride to the office.
As the morning ended, Nicole began to get ready to go to the restaurant to meet Uncle John. She walked to the elevator and was quite conscious of her bouncing breasts and that the dress did little to hide that she was braless. Luckily, no one really saw her. But once she stepped into the elevator, she saw 3 other businessmen who worked in her building. They all immediately looked at her chest and Nicole realized she was in the cooler A/C air for too long. Her headlights were fully on—high beam even—and her thin dress hid nothing. Damnit! The stick-ons offered no support, but they did give me some privacy. She blushed, which only made her chill up more and increase her “display.” Each man did almost nothing to hide their respective leers. She breathed a deep sigh of relief when they got out on the main floor—Nicole was going to the parking level below. She cringed when she overheard them laugh about the girl with the massive set of juggs.
She got in her car and waited a few minutes to relax. While she was pissed off at the men who stared at her, at least that anger helped her nipples go back to non-high alert. Time to concentrate on getting money from the rich bastards.
Nicole drove to the restaurant. Luckily, it wasn’t too far of a drive, so she didn’t get too warm. She was escorted to the elevator by one of the many valets working and soon was riding the elevator to the top floor—50 stories above the city streets. When the doors opened she walked in and was met by the maître d’ who escorted her to Johnson, waiting at the table for her. His eyes went to her chest and her bouncing Es. It was for only a moment, but enough to remind Nicole of many things—his latent, if not blatant sexism, the size of her chest, the fact that she was braless, and that fact that the cool air of the restaurant was working against her. These thoughts only heightened her worry, and soon, she was again displaying the full hardness of her nipple through her thin dress.
“Nicki. So good to see you.” He extended his hand.
She smiled and tried to focus on her mission—getting him away from a lot of his money for her cause. “Mr. Johns … Uncle John.” She took his hand and they shook as professionals. A good start.
They ordered cocktails—nothing outrageous—and a small appetizer. They chatted about old times when he was a younger man just starting to make his fortune in science and tech and when she was a school girl who would get to stay up late for some parties that her parents threw at the house. He asked with great interest about her career. All was going well, despite his frequent looks down at her chest. Damnit girls! Will you please stop poking out there … please?
Eventually lunch was served. The bartender brought Nicole a special drink that Uncle John ordered for only his most important guests. They continued to discuss business with Nicole highlighting her endeavors to make the world more equitable, now that she didn’t need to work for herself any more. She brought up her foundation—W.O.R.E. and its good works so far. Johnson seemed genuinely interested and asked several excellent questions about W.O.R.E.’s goals, leadership, future plans, and financial backing. This is perfect. I can get to my point. Nicole took a deep breath feeling both the moment and the effects of the special drink. As if on cue, the bartender brought her a second one, which she intended to sip, but instead almost absent mindedly gulped down before beginning her pitch.
“You see Uncle John, while W.O.R.E. is doing great so far, it’s still a fine line between the immediate success and long term success. And if I may be blunt, that fine line is determined by one thing, and only one thing … money.”
“Indeed. I know all too well that some great businesses never got to fulfill their missions simply due to lack of operational cash during the beginning years, to really get going. Hell, my company would not have had the great innovations in technology and behavioral sciences if I didn’t get the big loan from the bank. None of it would have ever been invented.”
She smiled. “Exactly Uncle John. You get it.” Nicole knew that Uncle John was about the smartest guy she ever met and what he said would certainly be what eventually carried the day. Huh? I guess I’ve always known that about him. “And I have given everything I can to W.O.R.E. My time. My blood, sweat, and tears. And a lot of my money. But I need more money … a lot more. Money I don’t have. And because it’s more of a charitable foundation than a profit churning business, loans are out of the picture. While I get plenty of small one time donations, and while I appreciate everyone who does what they can for my mission, what I need is some large donations … millions of dollars’ worth. Only a few people can really make W.O.R.E. a success.”
He nodded along, smiling. He is getting it. Time for my push. God, my head is spinning, I better make this quick.
“I know a small number of those people Uncle John. My dad might be one. And you.” She gave her biggest kindest smile. “You have enough money to last you and hundreds of others a lifetime, and then some. What I want is for you to help me further my very worthy cause. And the best part is this. Sure I am asking for you to donate a lot of money. I also would hope you can get the other people I your financial circumstances—your friends and colleagues—to do the same. But what you’ll get out of this is not just a warm fuzzy—I know that probably doesn’t mean much to most people. But when my organization is a success, I will create a whole new legion of strong powerful women who can go on to continue your legacy at your company, and those of your friends, and all to your own personal success. Sure, you might donate 10, 20, even 50 million dollars. But your company will grow in value by double or triple that in no time once you have my young ladies join your organizations, your companies, and lead it to even greater success.”
She smiled—hopeful, kind, sincere. Her head was starting to get foggy. Damn “special” drinks. At least Uncle John understands. He will come through. I can trust him, trust in him. Wow. I guess I never realized how much I trust him to do and say the right thing. Whatever he says must be the right thing to do.
He sat there, blank faced for a moment—his eyes lingering on her chest again.
“You make a good case Nicki. A very good case indeed. One, I don’t need the money, while it might benefit others. Two, I will likely get some long-term growth from it anyway, more than if I didn’t donate. And three, it is the right thing to do.”
He’s gonna do it. Oh god, it’s everything I dreamed of. I knew he would help me. I’ll do anything to get that help.
“But …” Oh shit. Nicole frowned. “… I know that you understand business. You understand better than most. Even for a girl.” Nicole smiled as he talked. That’s a pretty sexist thing to say, but he is right that most girls don’t understand business. Wait. Is that true? It must be as Uncle John said so. “And while I might gain some value to my company for my investment, that doesn’t mean much to me. As you noted, I already have great wealth. I can buy anything I want. But some things, I don’t have, despite my wealth.”
“Yes, but …” What is he getting at? I’m sure it’s very smart no matter what. “… I understand Uncle John. But what else can I offer to get the donations I need for W.O.R.E.?” Wow, I sounded like I would give him anything. But in a way I guess I would. I am sure even he didn’t mistake my words for anything else.
He opened up his checkbook. “Nicki. I am going to write a check, right now, from my money market account. It will be payable to W.O.R.E. and will be for $10 million dollars.” He completed the check.
She smiled wide. “Oh god, Uncle John, I don’t know what to …”
“But, I am not going to give the check to you yet. Instead, I am going to go to the men’s room, last stall, and you are going to follow me into the men’s room.” He stood without another word and walked away.
Nicole sat there. What? What does he … follow him? To the men’s room? I know there are rumors that deals are cut between men in weird places like golf courses and … well yes, I guess men’s locker rooms. Men’s rooms must be a place to do business and besides, I’ll do anything he asks to get that money. I have to. It’s the only way.
Nicole stood and followed him. She was at least 20 feet behind and could not keep up. Her feet were a bit unsteady—not used to the “special drinks” or high heels. He ducked into the men’s room and by the time she walked in, he was already in the last stall. She could see his shoes. She walked up. “Uncle John?”
He opened the stall door. “Nicki. I will gladly hand you over this check.” She smiled. “After you give me the best blowjob and titty fuck I have ever had.”
Nicole’s eyes opened wide. She as in shock, while his face was stern and serious. “You can’t be … I mean … You’re Uncle John. I can’t …”
“You are a businesswoman Nicki. There are not many girls who would say ‘no’ to $10 million dollars for a blowjob and tittyfuck.”
“But… but … but … Uncle John, I’ve known you since …”
“Since you were a little girl. Yes. And those big titties have been begging for a good wrap around my cock for many years. And now you are a full grown adult and I am guessing you don’t have time to give blowjobs or tittyfucks too often, even though that is what you are built for. I am also guessing you don’t get offers for $10 million dollars too often either. In fact, Nicki, let me sweeten the pot. I’ll give you—personally, not to W.O.R.E.—another $50 in cash. You have 15 seconds.”
“Wait. No. I can’t. I mean, I think you should give me the money because of …”
“10 seconds.”
“But you know my mom and dad and …”
“5 seconds.”
Nicole’s head was spinning. This wasn’t fair, but it made sense for some reason. It’s just a blowjob … and a tittyfuck … and then I’ll get lots of money from him and … but something doesn’t seem right. Why am I even considering it? Oh yeah, because Uncle John is super smart and I trust him.
“4 … 3 … 2 …”
“Ok, ok. I’ll do it.” Nicole gasped in shame. She looked down, blushing. But she also felt a sudden sense of making the choice because Uncle John made sense. One tittyfuck and blowjob and I get $10 million. Plus $50 bucks in cash.
“Now Nicki. Right now.”
She hung her head and knelt down on the cold men’s room floor. She looked up at the great man, a man she trusted and realized that she was right to trust him because he was getting what he wanted—he said he’s wanted to fuck her tits and mouth for years—and she was getting what she wanted—money for W.O.R.E. It was all business.
“Now Nicki. I suspect you will find that this will pay off for you rather well, as long as you don’t disappoint me down there. You see, I have wanted your mouth and tits on my cock since you were a teen. But you were always such a goody-two-shoes. But with my wealth, I was able to buy science—the kind of science that makes girls agreeable and forgetful. You won’t remember the drinks, or even what I am saying right now. But you’ll remember that you love sucking cock for money. Especially when you are called names and treated like a fuck toy. Now be a good girl, drop your dress, unzip my pants, take out my cock, and be the best little tittyfucker and cocksucker that you were born to be.”
Nicole looked up at him again. I won’t remember what he was saying about … huh? What did he say? Oh yeah, I love sucking cock for money. She smiled wide. “I hope you don’t think less of me Uncle John because I’m a prostitute.” Nicole immediately shivered and felt her panties get wet when she referred to herself as a prostitute. God, she loved being one so much. “But it’s what I was always meant to be.” She then undid her dress and let it slide off her shoulders, her tits coming into view for the great man. She noticed him smile wide. “Do you like them Uncle John? I love fucking a guy with them you know—as long as I get paid.” Nicole giggled and then shivered more as she almost made herself cum.
“They are bigger and more beautiful than I ever hoped for Nicki.” He softly grabbed them with his wrinkled hands. Nicole moaned in pleasure.
“Oh god sir. You have such a nice touch. I can’t wait to have your cock between my fuck puppies.” Nicole deftly undid his zipper and took out the great man’s cock. It was bigger than she imagined. Almost 5 whole inches. I hope I can swallow the whole thing. Hell, I would suck that cock for free. But first, it needs my tits almost as much as my tits need his cock.
Niccole wrapped her fuck puppies around the old cock and smile dup as she slowly moved up and down on the massive piece of man meat. “That’s a good little whore Nicki. A good little titty whore.” Nicole moaned loudly as she was called a whore—god how she loved being one. She moved faster and faster up and down, licking the head each time it popped up between her melons.
But eventually she needed more and Nicole dropped her mouth over Uncle John’s cock. I can’t believe I get paid to do this. $50 whole dollars just for me. Oh yeah, plus the foundation gets money. She tried to deep throat immediately because she needed it so bad. But Uncle John pulled her off and told her to do it properly by sucking his balls first. Nicole nodded like a good girl because good little whores always do at they are told. He bent down and licked his hairy grey balls. God, she loved licking balls so much. She was getting wetter as she thought about how much money she was making—$50 bucks. She smiled up, with his ball sack on her lips. “I love sucking balls Uncle John. I love it so much.”
Nicole then got serious and spent a long time slowly licking and sucking Uncle John’s balls. A good prostitute earns her money. She licked, sucked, rolled her tongue over them. She good feel his cock bouncing on her nose and face as she did what any top dollar whore—$50 ain’t chump change after all—does to make her money. She smiled up and then slowly slid her tongue up the length of his monster cock. Wow. 5 inches is so big. When she got to the head, she smiled directly at Uncle John before she slowly opened her mouth and took the head inside her mouth, lingering over it as it deserved. Then she experienced what any good whore experiences, a great man putting his hands on her head and forcing her to take the whole thing in her mouth. Nicole almost came herself as she was forced to take such a big cock deep into her mouth. She gagged a little but being the expert prostitute, she was able to power through it and suck and lick while the massive cock was inside her mouth and throat. When she heard Uncle John call her a dumb slut and grab one of her tits, she wasn’t able to contain herself any longer and she bucked her hips as she was over taken by a massive orgasm.
As she came, she felt one hand grabbing and molesting a tit while another grabbed her hair into a ponytail and forced her quickly up and down his cock. Oh fuck, Uncle John is such a good customer. I love how he fucks my mouth as if I’m just a dumb set of holes.
“That’s it you stupid whore. Make me cum and plan to wear it like a good little call girl.”
Nicole came again as she called her such nasty names. I am a fucking call girl, a whore, a prostitute. I would suck any cock for money. She moaned over Uncle John’s cock as he forced her head up and down, over and over, her head spinning, lost in the moment, when he suddenly pulled her mouth off and a huge blast of cum splattered over her face. Then another and another before her finally aimed his cock at her tits and coated them too.
Nicole knelt there—somewhat in shock as she realized she never had a man cum on her before, and very happy as she made $50. Oh yeah, plus the foundation money. Uncle John just looked her over smiling and called her a dumb little whore and zipped up and walked away leaving her in the men’s room.
Nicole caught her breath and realized she had to get back to the table. She was covered in Uncle John’s cum and she had to clean up. Men’s rooms have less amenities than ladies rooms though and she was able to only get the big globs off her face. She missed one in her hair. And she slid her dress up covered the rest on her chest. She then walked back to meet him at the table.
She saw a check and a $50 bill waiting for her and she smiled. Several men in the dining room also smiled at her, more than usual. She looked at Uncle John as she sat down. “Wow, that was kinda wild Uncle John. I mean I never realized that my secret job would help my foundation but …”
“Hush Nicki. Whores don’t talk. They listen.”
Nicole nodded. Obviously that was true. Wait … I am a feminist and … Oh yeah, I guess it is true since I’m a prostitute too.
“Have another drink Nicki while I explain things.” Nicole saw one of the special drinks was there. She did as she was told. She gulped it down as it if was water. Her head started to feel funny—well even more funny—again. Is it more funny? Or funnier? Nicole giggled to herself at what a ditz she was.
“You are going to do several things. One, you will start dressing in lingerie similar to today—every day. You will also wear outfits that reveal and accentuate your lingerie and your massive tits. Two, you are going to be my regular whore. Every morning you will come to my office before you go you yours. You will suck my cock, use your tits to fuck my cock, and do so until I cum on your face and tits. Three, you will be ready to give any man I send your way the same treatment. He may insist on doing so in his office, his car, your office, a back alley, under a table at a restaurant, or any number of places. Where ever he wants it, you will provide it no questions asked. Four, you will get several of your friends to do the same thing—outfits and fuck toys. I will assist you when the time comes in selecting the girls and making sure they understand their roles. In exchange, you will receive cash contributions to your foundation. Further, you will continue to promote your feminist causes, despite you being a whore and turning your friends into whores. You will give speeches, hold election campaigns, and do all the other activities that you and your foundation have been known for. You may be called out for how you have changed your choice of outfits, but you will ignore the complaints and present yourself as a proud, albeit slutty-dressed feminist. I will see to it that the money keeps coming and you will see to it that you are both a whore and a madam. Understand?”
Nicole stared ahead as her mind accepted these new truths. “Yes, Uncle John. I understand.”
“Good. Now that man over at the far table.” Nicole turned and looked over. Another older man she recognized from her father’s past. He wants you under his table, with your dress pulled down so that you may use your tits to make him cum. Once he has unloaded on your chest, you will get the same thing you got from me. $10 million for W.O.R.E., and $50 in cash.”
Half an hour later, Nicole was all smiles as she crawled out from under yet another table. She was able to meet another man after the one Uncle John sent her to as well. She had $150 in cold hard cash, 2 checks for $10 million dollars payable to W.O.R.E., plus the third man—while unable to give her lots of money for W.O.R.E. did promise to meet her later that night in her company parking garage and fuck her hard for another $25. Nicole blushed a bit as she crawled out given that her face was basically dripping of cum, but she was sure that the Top of the Tower had plenty of prostitutes be in this situation before. She stood up and here were some whispers by some of the females in the room. Nicole was sure she heard all the names too—whore, prostitute, slut, homewrecker, tart, nympho, tramp, skank, hussy, hooker—oh fuck I’m gonna cum in my panties again if they keep talking about me like that. Nicole ran out the restaurant. Luckily she had the elevator to herself … well until it stopped half way.
A man waked on and looked her over and smirked. “How much?”
Nicole gasped and moaned. “Whatever you think it’s worth.” She dropped to her knees and giggled. “I’m going down sir no matter what you pay me.” She had a mouthful of cum before they reached the ground floor. He said he had no cash, but did give her 37 cents from his pocket. Nicole beamed at being the cheapest slut in town.
Once in her car Nicole drove back to her office. She cleaned her face as much as she could in the car. She licked her fingers as she pulled globs off her dress and out of her hair. She fiddled herself until she orgasmed twice as she re-lived the bathroom titfuck, two under table blowjobs and the quick bj in the elevator. She had $150.37. She giggled as she thought how much easier it is to make money this way.
Once she was spent, she walked up to her office and cleaned up more in the ladies room. Then she sat down at her desk and went about recruiting girls for Uncle John’s plan to make W.O.R.E. money to survive.
Nicole thought about her friends, co-workers, and those within W.O.R.E. Who would be best the kind of girl who really would get money from these old rich men? Well they’d have to have big tits—Uncle John loves those and I bet his friends do too. All men really do I am sure. And they’d have to—Nicole looked down and realized she was absent mindedly fingering her clit again as she thought about turning her friends into prostitutes. She thought of her best friend Lynn, who had even bigger tits than Nicole’s E cups. Lynn is such a strong feminist that she would have to agree to suck cock for the cause. Nicole was pressing her index finger on her clit as she imagined Lynn sucking off Nicole’s dad as Nicole watched thinking how they were extorting money from her sexist dad by using his sexism against him. Lynn’s head was bobbing fast as Nicole imagined it, her tits swaying. Nicole imagined peeking through a door crack watching and … oh fuck … Nicole had another massive orgasm as her imagination got her carried away. She moaned loudly as she fingered her clit more and more as her imaginary dad filled imaginary Lynn’s mouth with a load of cum.
A few minutes later Nicole placed a call to Lynn. How would she convince Lynn that the key to their feminist activism was being a cocksucking, tit fucking whore?