NOW YOU BEGIN YOUR DESCENT
11:30 A.M.
You can’t let them get a word in.
That’s the trick.
These dumbasses that work for me, they always think they matter, when, in fact, they’re just there to do what I tell them. Sure, it helps to have a nice rack and a toned ass, which I happen to have both, but you can’t get by on just that. Those dumb bitches sitting in front of their computers think sticking their tits in their bosses face will get them a promotion, but all it gets them is a sore jaw and extra hours.
I got to where I am because I’m a hard worker with self-respect. Most women can only get so high on the corporate ladder. It’s that “glass-ceiling” shit that patronizes us into thinking we can’t do any better. But, I showed all those perverted male white-collars that I can do an even better job as them, and all those little bimbos that used to be my peers sat back and watched.
Now they work for me, Ms. Samantha Moore.
And so do most of the men I had worked for to get to where I am now.
Now, I know that most of my employees hate me. Hell, I would hate me. But, that’s the trick. Don’t let them have an opinion. They aren’t your friends. They aren’t your drinking buddies. They’re worker bees. Ants. Keep them under your thumb and you’ll never go wrong.
“Ms. Moore?”
Christ, who is it now? I spun around from my office window. I had been watching a bum on the street trying to con money out of pedestrians on the sidewalk fourteen stories below me. “Enter,” I commanded. The door cautiously swung open. It was Loomis. His meek eyes searched for me from behind his glasses, and then spotted me by the window.
I had worn the standard gray suit today. Matching high-heels to keep everyone’s attention, but modestly low skirt to keep a firm grip on that attention. “What is it now, Loomis?” This prick has been in and out of here all day. I swear the guy the needs my opinion everything.
“Bloomberg canceled and now I don’t know how we’re supposed to handle the Davis-Kruger account . . .” his voice trailed off, probably expecting me to be mad.
“We don’t need Bloomberg. Tell him to go fuck himself! That is if he ever gets his dick out of the district attorney’s ass!” I wasn’t mad, it was just fun to watch him shiver and shake.
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry to bother you again.” With that said, he turned and left, quickly.
The office was empty again. I was hungry now. Looking at the clock I saw it was a little early for lunch, but, hell, I’m the boss and I’ll take lunch whenever I get hungry. I grabbed my coat and strutted out my door.
“Leaving early today, Ms. Moore?” It was Cindy, my assistant. Her desk sat outside my door, where she would read magazines and file her nails like the waste of money that she was. The tramp was wearing her normal “please-fuck-me-I’m-desperate” outfit.
“Yes, if Numan calls tell him the meeting’s been moved to Thursday.” I walked past her with looking at her.
“Yes, ma’am!” She called after me, like a puppy begging for a treat, “When should we expect you back?!”
Stupid whore. “When you see me walking back through this office!” I yelled back. I could feel her hateful eyes on my back, but who cares.
Walking through the cubicles, I was treated like a drill sergeant. Men and women would stop what they were doing and nod their heads respectfully, saying, “Ms. Moore, Ms. Moore.”
Some bimbo, in a much too short skirt, I might add, started following me down the hallway, asking if I had given any thought to that “thing” we had talked about. I couldn’t remember what “thing” she was talking about, so I just said I had and the answer was “no”. I felt her presence shrink away as she stopped following me and just stood in the hallway with her head down.
Never expect your boss to remember you.
That’s another tip.
I never did.
You have to make your own impact. I once spent thirty straight hours memorizing a fifty-page report for a presentation for a group of fat CEO’s. Word for word. That sort of thing gets noticed. You’ll see that people tend to remember your name when they see you do something they couldn’t do themselves. I remember hearing them mumble, “Does she have an earpiece reading this stuff to her?” They would just shrug their shoulders in bewilderment that a woman, a woman, actually had a brain and was capable of some real work that didn’t involve memorizing celebrity couples or how to work the copy machine.
Getting into the elevator, I pushed the button for the ground floor and straightened the buttons on my business suit. Exiting the elevator, I pulled my cell phone out of my jacket pocket. “Jerry?” I asked, after it stopped ringing and heard the familiar “hello”. “It’s me. I’m leaving a little early today, so pull my car around front.” I hung up and headed toward the glass doors in the front of the building.
Bob, the doorman, grabbed the door handle and let me through. I saw him peeking down my blazer, like he always does, and I just walked right past him, like I always do. Fucking asshole. Probably jerks-off all night thinking of me.
Jerry was waiting by the curb. He was just your average loser with a loser job. That outfit wasn’t helping either. My silver sports car was sitting patiently behind him. He walked beside me to the driver’s door and opened it for me. I handed him a dollar, to which he grimaced at and forced a fake smile, “Thank you, Ms. Moore.”
“You know, I don’t have to give you anything, Jerry . . . " I informed him. With that said, I sped off.
2:00 P.M.
“ . . . For the last time, I don’t care. This is a business and I expect, as a customer, to be treated with a little respect. This waitress never asked me how my day was, she didn’t ask me if I wanted croutons with my salad . . . And I specifically told her to heat my tea up so the Equal would dissolve when I put it in—”
“But, it was heated up, she just let it sit there until it cooled back down—” the waitress argued, pathetically.
“Betty, please,” her boss cut her off and turned back to me with sympathetic eyes, “I’m sorry for the inconveniences, Ms. Moore. I promise the situation will be dealt with.”
The waitress, Bethany I think, walked off with tears in her eyes. I suppose you could feel sorry for her, but it’s nobody’s fault but her own. If she needs to learn the hard way, so be it.
I left the restaurant and headed back to the office. Jerry met me at the curb and took my keys. I watched my car speed toward the garage and was about to head inside the building when I spotted someone standing on the sidewalk near the intersection. He was a short man, with old dirty clothes. He would stick his hand out to people and they would shake their heads and walk away quickly.
It was that bum I had been watching earlier.
Feeling in my pockets, I pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and walked towards the dirty man. He saw me approaching and turned towards me with hopeful eyes.
“Here,” I said firmly, handing him the twenty-dollars, “How about I pay you to leave this street and quit pestering everybody.”
Oddly, the man smiled.
But it wasn’t a normal smile. It sent a chill down my spine. He stared at the bill and back at me. “You mean well by your actions, but your value for other people is quite inadequate.”
This kind of threw me off balance, “Whatever. Just leave, no one wants you here.” I held the bill out to him with more conviction.
What happened next was really weird. He quickly reached up with his hand and grabbed my shoulder. I couldn’t move. “Let go of me you stupid fuck—” He cut me off by placing the thumb of his other hand on my lips and silencing me. I could only stare at him.
“You need to see life from the other side,” he said softly. He then placed his thumb to my forehead. “Bimbo per vita, lo slut per vita, ora cominciate la vostra discesa.”
I felt like I was falling.
Falling, falling, falling . . .
I realized my eyes were closed. I opened them to find that I was alone on the street. Looking around, the man was nowhere to be seen.
“What the fuck?” I asked myself. What was that all about? And what was that gibberish he was saying? That was totally weird! What a freak.
I walked back to the front doors of the building and entered. Bob was staring at my breasts again. I just sneered at him and walked on. I walked back to the elevator and looked at the buttons.
What floor was I on again?
Just before the doors closed, Loomis walked in with me. “H-hello, Ms. Moore,” he stuttered.
“Oh, hi Mike!” I said. After it came out of my mouth, I realized I had used his first name, which was something I don’t usually do. He seemed a little surprised by this and just looked at me with a strange look in his eyes. What the hell is going on with me?
He raised his eyebrows and pointed at the group of buttons, “We won’t move until you push that, you know.” Normally, I would have chewed his head off for being such a smart-ass, but instead a fit of giggles escaped my mouth.
What the fuck? This was getting scary!
Mike Loomis just sighed and pushed 14. Oh yeah! Why didn’t I remember that? Geez, I’m, like, a super ditz today! Whoa. Now, where did that come from? Mike and I stared straight ahead as the elevator ascended. I saw him out of the corner of my eye, looking at me. I slowly turned to him. “What?” This was all starting to really piss me off.
He was staring at my hair. “I’ve just never seen you with hair like that.”
Ok, now I’m confused.
“What about my hair?”
Now, he was confused. He pointed to my head, “You know, t-the . . . the, um. The hair.” He sounded like I should somehow know what the fuck he was talking about. Then, he started looking up and down my whole body, “In fact, you just look different from earlier. All over. Did you do something different?”
The elevator stopped.
I didn’t answer him. The prick. Why had I been so polite to him before? And called him Mike? What the hell is going on today? First, that weird bum, and now this. I stormed out of the elevator.
I walked through the office again. This time, no one said anything to me. They all just stared. I was really getting, like, totally freaked out and stuff now! Ah! There’s that voice again! What the hell is that? Maybe I need to nap.
Maybe some coffee.
“Cindy!” I yelled, as forcefully stern as I could.
Her head shot up from behind her computer. “Yes, Ms. Moore!”
“Get me coffee. Now.” I walked past her and slammed the door into my office.
Finally, I was alone.
I sat down at my desk and rubbed my temples. Ok, Samantha. Pull yourself together. You’re getting yourself stressed out again. Just like last year when you had to take all those pills . . . They had said it was the job before, stressing me out. Maybe I’m letting this job get to me again.
I need to fire someone.
Quickly.
That always makes me feel better. Not two seconds after this thought entered my head, Cindy came into my office, carefully carrying a cup of coffee.
“Here you are, Ms. Moore,” she said softly, placing the saucer and cup on my desk. She looked at me and turned away, heading back out the door.
“Cindy, wait.” Here it was. This would make me feel better.
She stopped, surprised that I had asked for her company. She glanced the top of my head with a confused look. “Yes, Ms. Moore?”
“We have to talk,” I said, getting up and walking around my desk to face her. I had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to fire this little bimbo, and even though she hadn’t done anything, aside from being a stupid, incompetent whore, I needed this! I needed to do something drastic to wake me up.
“W-what is it?” she asked. I think she knew what was coming. That’s right, bitch. You should be scared. Because I’m Samantha Moore. I’m in charge and right now . . . You. Are. Fired. All I had to do was say it. I opened my mouth to form the first word. Here it comes. Here it comes. Here it comes.
“You must tell me where you got those totally cute shoes!”
Goddammit.
Now I’m mad.
Cindy was so relieved though. She smiled, “Oh, thank you! I, um . . . got them at—”
“I don’t give a fuck where you got them! Get out!” I had lost it. I felt like my mind didn’t belong to me anymore. Cindy flinched and backed away. “Go on! I need to be alone!” She left the office in a hurry.
I turned to my window.
There in the glass, I could see a faint reflection of me. Only, it didn’t look like me. “What the fuck?” I asked myself.
There was a mirror behind the closet door on the opposite side of my office. I rushed to it and pulled open the door. What I saw horrified me. My hair was teased up in some tarty, eighties style. And my make-up. Did I put that much make-up on this morning? I don’t think so. Then, I looked at my chest. My breasts were definitely bigger. But, my blazer wasn’t stretching. It seemed to fit perfectly. And my skirt! It was above my knees! Now, I know for sure that it wasn’t like that before. And did my heels seem to be taller?
What the fuck? What the fuck is going on? I’ve been acting weird all afternoon, and now my appearance seems to be changing on it’s own.
I tried my best to straighten my brunette hair back to its original style, flat and straight, but there was about a gallon of hair spray in it. I don’t use hairspray, so I haven’t the slightest clue how it got there.
Then, finally, it struck me.
I rushed to my window and peered down. I could barely see him from being up so high, but he was there.
And he was waving at me.
It was that bum. He was back. First of all, I don’t know how he could spot me from fourteen stories below, but he seemed to be watching me. I reached for my phone, knocking it to the floor and scrambling to pick it up. I dialed a few numbers and waited. “Jerry! Jerry listen to me!” I was panicking. “There’s a man. He’s down on the sidewalk near you. He’s dressed in . . . Well, he’s a bum! He’s been begging for money there all morning. Go get him! Don’t let him leave! I’m on my way down. (Giggle)”
Oh my god.
Now, I was running.
I kicked off my high-heeled shoes. It would have been impossible to run in them. I rushed through the office getting more stares from employees, but I didn’t care. I glanced at the elevator doors, but ran towards the stairway. After fourteen stories, I was tired. But I made it. Bob opened the door for me, not getting a chance to feast his perverted eyes on me.
I saw Jerry standing next to the bum. They appeared to be chatting. I stomped up to him. “Jerry, please leave us alone.” He looked angry, but then left. “Ok, you piece of shit! Like, what have you done to me? Why am I acting all weird and stuff?” My voice was starting to sound strange now. More girly.
The man smiled, “You did this, Samantha.”
I gasped at the man, “Like, whatever! You totally did something and you know it!”
“I just provided the means. But, you brought this on yourself, Samantha.” The man was gentle and calm. I must have looked like a fool arguing with this low-life.
“Whatever, dude. I’m gonna, like, have you taken away by those, um . . . guys with the cars . . . with the lights . . . Police! Them! And . . . how do you know my name?”
Now the man was laughing at me! The nerve!
“Bimbo per vita, lo slut per vita, ora cominciate la vostra discesa,” he said, again.
“Yeah, you said that last time. Like, what’s it supposed to mean?”
“Bimbo for life, slut for life, now you begin your descent.” I didn’t know what to say. “Your attitude toward other people has warranted . . . a change. By the end of the day, you will find that you will be a whole new woman!”
With that said, the man began laughing. Then, it was as if he vanished into thin air. I looked down at my feet. I was wearing heels again. Didn’t I kick them off upstairs? Yes. Yes, I had. They had reappeared all by themselves. They weren’t even my shoes! These heels must have been six-inches tall! And they . . . well, they weren’t all that bad. In fact, they were kinda cute. They were yellow. Bright yellow. They would go great with some hot pants and a halter! Oh, totally!
Dammit, dammit, dammit.
This was getting serious.
4:15 P.M.
I was sitting in my office again.
It was a struggle to keep my thoughts from drifting to fashion and men. Seeing a copy of Cosmo on Cindy’s desk almost sent me into a cold sweat. I had locked myself in here to keep myself from being seen, or to keep myself from doing . . . anything.
I had no idea was I was capable of at this point. My skirt had shortened even further and my tits were a DD. Also, they were implants. They had grown into my chest all on their own. I could feel the silicone in them.
So here I sat. With a pair of huge, obviously fake titties. My make-up made me look like one of secretaries downstairs. I couldn’t even type! My head . . . it felt like it was full of bubbles.
I must be insane.
It was the only explanation.
And that voice. That voice kept coming up into my head. More and more now. And the giggling. That just wasn’t me! I didn’t giggle. I had a handheld mirror sitting on my desk surface. Every few minutes I would glance down to see anymore changes. Speaking of which . . .
I glanced down at my reflection. Oh fuck. Oh fuck! This was getting serious! My hair. My respectable dark hair has brightened into a laughable platinum blonde. It was teased high in the air like some prostitute on the south side of town.
“Oh poopie!” I shouted, stomping my feet on the ground and crossing my arms in from of my enhanced chest. My lower lip was pouting out like it had a mind of it’s own. This was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. Everything the guy was saying would happen was coming true. I look like a bimbo! A slut! And he had said this would be for life! Forever! Would I even remember who I was by sundown?
I had to do something.
If I could just act normally, maybe it would all go away.
I pushed the intercom button on my phone. Cindy answered. “Like, get Mike Loomis in here, please!” I said politely. No no no!!! That’s just what I have to stop doing! I have to act like my old self. My real self! Be strong, Samantha. Be firm! Be—
Mike came in and I couldn’t help but stare at him from head to toe. I had never noticed how dreamy he was! “Like, oh my gawd, Mike. You look totally cute today!”
Goddammit. It was useless.
Mike was dumbfounded, “Um . . . Thank . . . What?”
I felt my mouth grinning stupidly on it’s own, “Could you, um, lock the door? (Giggle).” No! Don’t do this! I had to get him out of here. It was getting worse while I was around people.
“Excuse me?”
Leave! Leave! Get out! “Lock the door and come over here. I, like, have something for you . . .”
Mike locked the door and slowly walked over to my desk, “What’s going on? What happened to your hair . . . ”
My hands ran themselves up my chest and grabbed hold of the edges of my bright yellow blazer. Bright yellow? Before I knew it, I had yanked it open and my huge tits were spilling out for Mike’s delight. A grin formed on his face when he realized what was going on.
He circled around my desk to my chair. I reached up to his pants and unzipped them. While doing this, I noticed my nails had grown an inch longer and were painted yellow to match my outfit. Too cute!
Oh god. My thoughts were starting to fade. I could feel them leaving me.
My hand disappeared into the office boy’s khaki pants and fished around for his dick. When I found it and wrapped my hand around it, I could feel my pussy getting wetter and wetter. God, it was awesome!
It was, like, making it worse while I was feeling horny! Oh fuck! I, like, gotta get away from this big cock or else I’m gonna be, like, a total bimbo. I can’t even think straight no more. I feel all dumb and stuff! Hee hee. Oh well. I leaned forward and took his big beautiful cock in my slutty mouth and started sucking him. I could tell he liked it, cuz he was like grabbing my hair and pushing me further down on it. I was glad I was pleasing him, cuz I loooove pleasing boys!
I sucked him until he shot his cum down my throat. It was, like, so good! I’m definitely gonna have to start doing this more often. Of course, I’ll have to buy some better outfits than what I have. Boys will want me to suck their cocks more if I look good and sexy. Plus, it’s a good excuse to go shopping! Hee hee!
Mikey zipped his pants up and backed away, “What the hell got into you today, Ms. Moore?”
“Hee hee! Like, call me Sammi, baby! And I just love to suck on cocks. Is there, like, anything wrong with that?” I mean, really. Why was he asking me a weird question like that?
He didn’t say anything. He just walked out. Oh well. I was kinda tired anyway. I figured I’d just take a nap . . .
6:00 P.M.
I woke up face down on the desk. A line of saliva was pooling up around my mouth. The taste of cum was still in my mouth. I sat up and looked around.
It was dark outside.
Most people would be gone by now.
I felt around for the mirror. I found it, but it was too dark to see. I felt blindly for the desk lamp and twisted it’s switch.
I felt like screaming, but all that came out was nervous giggles. “Hee hee hee! Um, hee hee! I, like, look like a total BIMBO!” My lips were huge and slutty. They were painted a bright pink. My eyelashes were long and dark. My hair had grown down my back. The top was still teased up. Huge pink hoops dangled from my ears.
I looked hideous. But, anytime I tried to say anything out loud, it came out all wrong. “Oh, I just look so darling! Hee hee! It’s just to die for!”
I stood up and examined my outfit. My business suit had completely disappeared. I was wearing a tiny mini-skirt that showed the bottom of my ass. Again, pink. And a pink bra. That was all. The weirdest thing was that it didn’t seem all that strange. In fact, it was kinda cute.
No. That’s not me talking. It was getting too hard to hold on to my personality. I just knew that pretty soon I wouldn’t even remember who I was. Who I really was. All I would know was the tart that I had become. And the really scary thing, was that I would love it. I would live the rest of my life giggling with a dick in my mouth. Just like those other bimbos. Those wonderful girls. I couldn’t wait to be like them!
Fuck!!!
I had to get out of here!
I ran through the door into the darkened office. The light switch was on the wall behind me, so I flipped it. I expected to just see an empty room of computers, but instead, everyone was waiting there.
Everyone.
They were all gathered at the other end of the room, staring at me. And there in the middle, was Mike Loomis.
“Like, what’s goin’ on? Hee hee!” asked in a dumb, high-pitched voice. I was terrified.
Cindy stepped forward from the crowd, “We know what’s happening to you, Ms. Moore.”
I giggled stupidly, “Please, Cin, called me Sam—”
“Shut up!” she commanded. Normally, I would have kicked her ass out of this building for ever raising her voice to me, but instead I just sat there and took it. I couldn’t say a word to her. I saw her as a peer now. Her taste in shoes is wonderful though . . . “Ms. Moore, we know all about the bum.”
I was confused. Or maybe I was just too stupid to understand now. Either way, I saw Jerry step forward, “The bum told me everything. Right after you called me about him, right before you came down.”
I stomped my foot like a child, “Uh! Then, why didn’t you stop him from fucking up Sammi’s life!” My speech was getting worse, but definitely sexier!
“Because!” Cindy spoke up, “You treat us all like shit!”
“You think you’re so much better than us!” It was Bob the doorman. God, had he been working out?
“Now it’s your turn,” Mike was talking again, “to see what it’s like to be treated like us.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just giggled, “Hee hee! ‘K!” My tits were ridiculously huge. They would bounce every time I giggled in my totally cute pink bra.
“Get on your knees, slut,” Mike commanded.
“Yes sir,” I said with a smile. This was making my head feel like it was before. I could feel all my smarty thought floating away. Away, away, away . . . Hee hee. It was kinda neat. It was so totally better to not have to think. After all, I was just a woman . . . A slut. They don’t need to think—
“Pull those tits out, whore!” Cindy yelled, laughing at how helpless and dumb I had become. That’s just like her. She was kinda hot. I wonder if she would let me lick her pus— No! Don’t! I have to fight th— Like, what was I thinking? Oh, yeah! Pussy! I wanna lick some pussy! Cuz Sammi’s a good girl!
I fought with my bra a bit. Bra’s are, like, hard! I’m gonna totally stop wearing those stupid things! They’re just dumb. What if I need to get my big big titties out for someone? Yeah, I’ll just stop wearing those dumb ol’ things. Hee hee! I’m so bad!
Fight it Sammi! No, SamanTHA! That’s my name! Samantha! Sammi! Sammi the slut! Hee hee! What a cute name!
I got my titties out. They are SO pretty, you guys. You just don’t know. My nipples are real big and hard and my big white titties just jutted out in front of me. I was real proud of ‘em. (Giggle).
Mike was smiling. “Are you ready for the fucking of a lifetime?”
No!
“Oh, totally! Sammi loves to fuck!” I smiled and twirled my hair while I watched everyone bare down on me. A couple of the boys started squeezing my boobies while I sat on my knees. It felt awesome! Another guy, I don’t even know his name, but I think I had yelled at him about something last week, stood in front of me and dropped his pants. His big cock sat in front of me. My mouth was, like, watering and stuff by this point! I gulped it don’t like a good little whore. He was really liking it.
“Ok, who wants the ass first?” someone behind me asked. Oh my god! They’re flipping a coin! These bastards are flipping a coin to see who gets to fuck their boss in the ass! This was rape. Rape!
Wait . . . what was I saying? Giggle.
“Heads!”
“Tails!”
“Tails it is! How fitting! Charlie, since you called heads, why don’t you go get some. Harold, fuck this bitch’s ass!”
Who ever Charlie was, he shoved his dick in my mouth before I could say anything. Oh well. I don’t really have anything important to say. Then, I felt that Harold guy stick his cock up my asshole. Now, I had never been butt fucked before, but, let me tell you . . . it’s totally cool!
“MMph! Fumph Mm Ath! Fumph Mm Ath!” I tried to say, but they just slapped my titties to shut me up. Hee hee! Those guys . . .
9:00 P.M.
Cindy was straddling my face while another office girl ate me out. I was just giggling while I lapped up all her juices. God, how embarrassing . . .
They had been using me like this for hours it seemed. My ass was sore, my pussy was sore . . . And my jaw . . . ugh . . .
I felt that girl moving around down there . . . Oh, she’s rubbing her tits on my pussy! How clever! Hee hee! God, that’s sexy.
Sigh.
It was no use.
It was only a matter of time before Samantha Moore was gone forever, only to be replaced by Sammi “Fuck Me” Moore. And more, and more, and more . . .
What the hell is that now? Oh, there’s a stapler in my ass. Well, that feels just delicious! And what’s that in my pussy? Oh, just some pens and pencils and stuff . . . Nothing TOO exciting, I suppose. Hee hee.
10:00 P.M.
Sammi’s on the floor now. All the boys had, like, surrounded me with their cocks and I was just going around and around sucking on ‘em. It was cool. And fun! Everyone now and then, I’d suck on someone’s balls. They always seemed to like that.
“Suck my balls, boss,” they’d say, and laugh. Isn’t that funny?! Hee hee! I used to be their boss, now I’m just sucking on their nutsacks! God, I’m glad I gots to be a bimbo. Or else Sammie might not get to suck balls. (pout) That would make Sammie sad . . .
“Suck my cock, Ms. Moore!”
Yes! Ms. Moore! That’s me! I’m not this whore! I’m Samantha Moore! Ha ha! I can feel it now. I’m starting to wake up. My brain’s coming back. 2 plus 2 is . . . 4! A, B, C, D, E, F . . . Yes! I can remember now!
I pulled the cock out of my mouth and stood up. Everyone seemed surprised, but that’s too bad! Because the bitch is back.
Let’s see here: World War II, Theory of Relativity, Trigonometry, Mussolini . . .
First man on moon—Armstrong!
Capital of US—D.C.!
My brain is back!
Ok, now . . .
Anne Nicole Smith—Trash
Hilary Clinton—My idol!
That’s right you bastards! Now you’re all in trouble! Don’t ever mess with Samantha Moo-ORE!!!
What the fuck was tha . . .
Oooooo . . . someone, like, stuck their finger up my ass . . . Giggle . . .
Cool.
11:00 P.M.
naked.
covered in cum.
barely keep eyes open.
feel weird.
weird weird weird
all gushy . . . (giggle)
11:55 P.M.
This was it! Sammi all done now!
Everybody’s, like, watching me and stuff! They know I’m about to become a big bimbo forever now. They’re all tired from fucking Sammi, and, boy, Sammi’s tired too! I been fuckin’ cocks all night! But, it sure was fun. Yep. Lots and lots of fun.
(sob)
This is it for me.
I won’t even remember myself anymore.
I just want to tell you one thing before I disappear forever.
I hate BIM—
Is that the clock chiming?
THE NEXT DAY . . .
You, like, can’t let them get a word in.
That’s, like, totally the trick.
When you tell someone you wanna suck their cock, they might, like, tell you they’re busy or something lame like that. But, you can’t let them turn you down, cuz if you don’t get your cock to suck on . . . you, um . . . you might be sad! Yeah! And that’d be bad . . .
The nice people let Sammi stay at the office. I usually sit under the desks all day. Everyone gets to borrow for a certain amount of time. If no one’s using me, they’ll must tuck me away in the closet.
Usually, though, I stay in Boss Cindy’s office. It’s really nice! Sammi likes it! It’s got like a big window that you can see all the way down from. I hope I can, like, have a big office like this someday, but I probably won’t cuz working is for smart people and Sammi’s kinda dumb . . . But that’s ok! Everyone still likes me! They call me whore and bitch and cunt and slut and dummy, so . . . it’s really neat! Hee hee!
Ok, Sammi’s gonna go now! Hope you liked my story!
Bye Bye!