The usual rat race starts when you apply for a job, get shortlisted, interviewed, and then recruited. You're part of an organization which believes in your abilities, tests your skills and rewards your efforts through monetary gains, diligently evaluating your annual progress through an appraisal system. You get to spend time off with your family, earn incentives on your annual performance and the increments follow suit. Just the perfect way to kickstart your career up the ladder in a glamorous company.

But ours was different - vastly different. For starters, the offer letter contained a clause which did not allow any man to wear any attire below their waist. No footwear, no lower / bottom wear, and certainly no underwear. You would come dressed to the office as usual, and had to remove your clothes from the lower half in the locker room. That would lead to the hallway, from where each of you would depart to your working bays.

A standard workstation with state of the art facilities, multicuisine pantry and recreational activities sprawled over an enormous floor which housed hundreds of employees working round the clock for this multinational conglomerate. It was a Tuesday afternoon when I checked in, grabbing my coffee and headed to my desk taking a peek at my fitness band for the 4000-odd steps I had covered up until then. My white shirt had zero creases, perfectly ironed the night before. I'd rolled the sleeves up since it got pretty tight in the metro with commuters crushing into each other for space. Oh, and I conveniently forgot to mention that my nether regions had been shaved clean just a couple of days ago, after growing for about a week. It was almost a clean look now as I walked through the bays, but for some reason I could feel my shaft growing. Not sure what triggered it, but somehow the shaft reached to its full length of six inches which I was unable to hide in plain sight.

Just about then, I felt the first spank of the day on my hip! Did I not mention the other clause in the offer letter? Any woman employed by the organization, in any capacity, reserves the right at all times to be served by a male slave of her choice. To signify her request, all she needs to do is land an unmistakable spank on the hips of a male employee - following which he needs to follow her to the meeting room she finds for her pleasure. It doesn't matter what she wants of me. She could much as well use my mouth to eat her out until she quivers to an orgasm, or ride my engorged dick for as long as she wants to. The women here give the orders, we oblige. DM corporate slavery to continue.