Believe it or not, a group of women who run a call center hired me as their squirt slave. I had never done anything like this before, but was hard up for money, and a female friend told me about the opportunity. I couldn't believe that a functioning office would do something like this, but it turned out to be real.
The day came, and I walked into the office. A sexy blond beckoned me over, and I knelt beneath her desk while she fingered herself, and then, when she came, emptied her hot, clear water into my mouth. I turned away for a second, but she pushed my face back into her stream, right against her pussy, forcing her stream to go only into my mouth until she was finished. It tasted like pure water, with a hint of her female flavors. Afterwards, I went to stand up, but she kept a grip on my head, so I realized she wanted me to clean her up. I licked all of the thick, white female ejaculate out of her pussy folds, and bush, and licked all of the droplets of squirt off of her legs, and then she let me go.
As I stood up I noticed that their were water empty water bottles all over every desk. Each woman was drinking lots of water.
Right as I started to walk away, I noticed another woman, a light skinned Latina flagging me down. As I walked over to her, it occurred to me how strange it was that they all kept working, despite there being these sexual acts going on. This woman stood up, and leaned on her desk, so I went in from behind and tongue fucked her. Her bush was sticky and wet, so I assume she was watching me drink her coworker, and had gotten extremely turned on. She started to squirt, and immediately grabbed my head and forced it against her pussy. She squirted for a long time as I drank gulp after gulp of her. She stopped, and I moved to get up, but she pushed my face between her ass cheeks, and pushed backwards, against my mouth. I refused to lick her asshole, but I could feel it tensing in and out as she spread her cheeks with one hand and forced it against my lips, while she fingered her pussy with the other hand, and worked up to another orgasm. She guided me down onto the ground, spread her cheeks, and pressed her asshole onto my mouth again, and then began to squirt for a second time. I think she wanted to punish me for refusing to lick her ass, and so she used her hand to force the squirt to flow over her asshole before it poured into my mouth. Her squirt was so clean and pure tasting, though, that it washed over her asshole and still tasted great when it went into my mouth.
I think she was really mad, so after she finished squirting, she spit into my mouth several times, and told me not to swallow nor spit it out. Then she tapped her friend at the next desk, a busty, curvy American woman, who stepped over and pulled her thong to the side, just enough to expose her pussy. Then she rubbed her clit over my mouth until she started gushing.
"Do not fucking swallow!" said the Latina firmly.
I let the American pour into my mouth, overflowing, down my face and neck, until she was done moaning and spraying. Then the Latina spit into the American's ass crack several times, and then had the American spit into her mouth, which she spit into the American's ass crack, too. The spit built up, and dripped into one big blob, which finally poured down into my open mouth. The American stood up, and then the Latina straddled my face and rubbed her clit until she came again, and a short blast of squirt poured into my mouth.
"Your mouth is full of both of our squirt, our spit, and the taste of our assholes. Now, gargle with it!" said the latina.
I did so. It really tasted amazing, and my dick became a rod of iron.
"Okay, close your mouth, but don't swallow," said the Latina.
I closed it.
"Swish it around like mouthwash!"
I did.
"Okay, now, you are not allowed to spit it out! Swallow it all!" she said.
Just as I was about to swallow it, I realized the American woman was losing control. This had turned her on way too much, and she started masturbating, and squirting again. I swallowed what was in my mouth, and opened it again, allowing her to delicately place her cunt on my lips, sit on my face, and completely drain herself into my mouth. I drank her for a long time while the Latina watched. When the American was finished, and was quivering there, with her ass cheeks in my face, I spread them, and licked her asshole once, firmly, as she yelped in astonishment and pleasure, and then I smiled at the Latina. She glared at me, but then smiled, eyes narrowing, and went back to her desk.
As I walked around the cubicles to see who else needed servicing, I came across a strange site: two light skinned, busty, wide hipped women were lying on their backs on the floor, with their pussies facing each other, as they masturbated. One of them kept leaning forward, fingering the other with her whole hand, making her pussy gape, and spitting into her pussy. The one being spat into beckoned to me, so I walked over and allowed her to guide me to the floor, where I lay with my open mouth directly below her pussy. The other woman started to squirt directly into the gaping pussy above my mouth. Her squirt went inside, mixed with all of her spit, and then poured out, into my mouth. I swallowed it all.
After that, several women were extremely routine about it. Each had me kneel under her desk, and merely moved her thong aside for me to be able to access her pussy, and then, after I'd licked for a few minutes, orgasmed and gushed smooth, pure tasting squirt into my mouth, making sure I was firmly pressed against her pussy, drinking every drop. They all came for a long time, and I had a lot to drink. I was there for a full eight hours and didn't need anything else whatsoever to drink.
Each one, also, made sure I cleaned them after they were done. I lost track of how many times I was tonguing white, thick female ejaculate from deep inside a cunt, and then slurping squirt out of pubes, and licking droplets of it off of thighs. I suspected that this was the standard: male comes in, licks pussy, drinks all squirt, and then cleans up all female ejaculate and leftover squirt before moving onto the next woman. Lather, rinse, repeat.
The last woman in the office had me lay on the ground and rode my tongue, bouncing up and down. As she did so, she squirted, and kept bouncing, until her knees went weak, and then she pressed her pussy against my mouth and drained herself as waves of orgasm washed over her, and her squirt poured down in a constant, strong stream.
I realized it was near the end of the work day, and I'd made every woman in the office come, so I must be done. I walked toward the exit, but was stopped by the busty Latina I'd angered previously.
"We have a big tip for you, before you leave," she said.
I was excited to get even more money! But she placed a jar in front of me, instead. It was full of semi clear liquid, with some bubbles, and white, thicker liquid floating in it.
"Drink it, or you don't get paid," she said.
I picked it up, and put it to my lips. As I took the first sip, the Latina played a video on her phone, and showed it to me.
"Do not stop drinking! And don't drink too fast, either. You need to do it slow, so you really savor it," she said, as the video played.
The flavor was sour, salty, and bitter, but with some sweet notes, all at the same time. However, mostly it was just watery, and pussy flavored, so it just made me extremely hard. Then I realized what I was watching on the video: It showed each woman in the office taking turns squirting into the jar, spitting, licking each other's assholes and then spitting into it, and sometimes pouring the liquid from the jar into their own mouths, and then spitting it back into the jar.
I understood it was supposed to disgust me, and was clearly a punishment for refusing to do something, but it just made me more and more turned on. It was all I could do to refrain from coming when I watched several of the women taking turns getting on all fours and pouring the entire contents of the jar down their ass cracks, over their pussies, and into another jar. Sometimes they would be masturbating, and squirting more into the jar while they did so, even as other women were spitting into their ass cracks, adding even more liquid to the drink.
At last, as I was nearing the bottom of the jar, where it was the thickest, the video showed several light skinned women fingering themselves deeply, and then licking the thick white off of their fingers, and spitting it into each other's mouths, and then into the Latina's ass crack. The Latina then smiled at the camera, and rubbed the spit and female ejaculate around and over her asshole. Then, she put her pussy over the jar, and slid a finger down her ass crack, causing the wave of spit and come to slide into the jar. After that, three more women walked over, and also masturbated and then put their come into their mouths, and spit it into her ass crack.
I finished the drink, now knowing that the thick, goopy parts were pure spit and female come. It tasted sour, and savory, and was very pleasant. The video kept playing, though, as the Latina smiled at me, in person, mischievously. In the video, the thick goop slid down her ass crack, but she moved the jar, stood up, and pulled her skirt down.
"You get it, now, right?" she asked.
She pulled her skirt up, and turned to show me her ass. She spread her cheeks, and I could see the thick goop was stuck all over, from the top of her ass crack, down and all over her pussy and pubes. I got on my knees, and she pushed her ass onto my face. I started to lick her. The flavor was insane. It was partly her ass, but that was faint, as most of what I could taste was female ejaculate, and spit. I relished cleaning her off, as I slurped the thickest parts of it out of her crevices. Then I licked from the very top of her ass crack, down to her pussy. After that, I sucked her pubes and licked all of the come and spit out of them, and then licked in between her pussy lips. I finished by sucking on each one of her pussy lips, inner, and outer, and then her clit. As I did so, she started to gush, so I leaned in and pressed my lips against her squirt hole and drank, while she moaned in an extreme orgasm.
Finally, she completely emptied her pussy into my mouth, and smiled down at me satisfied. I got the feeling she felt she'd successfully punished me.
I left, then, and went home and showered. I jerked off, and came more than I ever have in my life. My friend called me, and asked, "So, did you survive? Was it worth it?"
"You know, for the amount of money I was paid, it was well worth it," I replied.
I saw no reason to tell her that I am a fucking animal, and found everything the women did, including the jar of fluid, and the video, and licking the Latina clean at the end, to be hot as fuck. It wasn't a punishment at all.
I'd have done it for free.
------X------
My muscles still ached in that pleasant, drained way as I parked my car in the same lot the next morning. The sun hadn't fully cleared the low office buildings, casting long, sharp shadows. My mouth was oddly dry, but my mind was replaying the previous day on a feverish loop—the taste of clean squirt, the thick residue of female come on my tongue, the jar. Especially the jar. I'd jerked off three times thinking about it last night after my shower, each orgasm a shuddering, draining release that left me hollow and hungry for more.
I walked in through the glass doors, the familiar hum of computers and the low murmur of professional voices greeting me. It was all so normal. So fucking bizarrely normal. A few women glanced up from their monitors, their eyes not holding surprise, but a kind of… anticipation. A dark-haired woman in a sleek blue blouse gave me a slow, knowing smile before turning back to her screen.
The blonde from yesterday—the one who started it all—wasn't at her desk. In her place was a new woman, a redhead with pale, freckled skin and sharp green eyes. She didn't beckon. She just looked at me, held my gaze, and then slowly, deliberately, pushed her rolling chair back from her desk. She crossed her legs, the movement causing her knee-length skirt to ride up her thighs, revealing the pale skin above her stockings. She uncrossed them, spreading them just a fraction, and nodded once towards the floor beneath her desk.
The routine was already established. I didn't need words. A strange calm settled over me, a focus that shut out the ringing phones and clicking keyboards. I walked over, the carpet muffling my steps, and knelt on the thin, commercial-grade fiber. The space was cramped, filled with the warm electronic smell of her computer tower and the faint, clean scent of her perfume—something floral and expensive.
She didn't lean back. She stayed upright, one hand moving her mouse, the other coming down to the waistband of her skirt. I heard the soft shush of fabric, the subtle click of a button or clasp. Then, she simply guided my head forward with a firm hand on my crown. My face was pressed into the hot, damp silk of her panties. They were already soaked through, a dark patch of arousal blooming against the cream-colored fabric. The smell was immediate and potent—musky, sweet, intensely female. It went straight to my cock, which was already stiffening painfully against my zipper.
"Go on," she said, her voice a low, professional murmur, as if she were giving a colleague a stock update. "I have a conference call in twelve minutes."
I nuzzled against the silk, feeling the firm outline of her pussy lips beneath. Using my teeth, I gently tugged the damp fabric aside. She was shaved smooth, her skin like warm marble. Her pussy was already glistening, her inner lips swollen and dark pink, peeking out from her slit. I didn't hesitate. I flattened my tongue and dragged it from the very bottom of her entrance, over her perineum, all the way up to the tight, wrinkled bud of her asshole. She gasped, a sharp intake of breath that wasn't part of her phone persona. Her hips jerked minutely.
I zeroed in on her clit, a hard little pearl under its hood. I sucked it into my mouth, flicking my tongue over it rapidly. Her hand tightened in my hair, not guiding anymore, but clutching. I could hear her breathing change, becoming ragged. On the desk above, her other hand continued to click the mouse rhythmically.
"Yes, I see that metric," she said into her headset, her voice impressively steady. "The Q3 projections are… ah… are aligned with those parameters."
I slid two fingers inside her. She was dripping wet, her inner walls clenching around me in hot, silken pulses. I crooked my fingers, searching, and when I found the rough patch of her G-spot, I pressed firmly. At the same time, I sealed my lips over her clit and sucked hard.
Her professional composure shattered. A choked moan escaped her, followed by a string of breathless, whispered curses. "Fuck… oh god, right there, don't stop, you fucking…" Her hips began to piston against my face, grinding her soaked cunt over my mouth. The scent and taste of her consumed me—salty, tangy, alive.
The orgasm hit her like a train. Her whole body stiffened. The hand in my hair became a vise. A guttural cry was bitten off into a strangled gasp. And then the floodgates opened.
It wasn't a trickle. It was a sudden, hot geyser of fluid that hit the back of my throat with surprising force. It was, as before, almost tasteless at first—clear, warm water with just the faintest ghost of her essence. But as the stream continued, a deeper, more complex flavor emerged: slightly sweet, slightly metallic, utterly intoxicating. I swallowed greedily, gulping down the copious flow. It poured out of her in rhythmic pulses, each spasm of her cunt sending another wave into my mouth. I felt it splash against my cheeks, run down my chin. I pressed my face harder into her, wanting to catch every drop at the source. Her thighs trembled on either side of my head.
The stream began to slow, tapering off to a few last hot trickles. I kept my mouth sealed over her, lapping gently, drinking the last of it. Above me, she was panting. I heard the faint click of her mouse again.
"My apologies," she said into her headset, her voice hoarse but recovering its polished tone. "A slight… technical difficulty. Please continue."
Her technical difficulty was currently lapping up the thick, pearlescent come that was now seeping from her well-fucked pussy. The female ejaculate was different from the squirt—cloudy, viscous, with a richer, more pungent flavor. It coated my tongue like savory cream. I licked it from her folds meticulously, delving deep with my tongue to get every drop from inside her. I cleaned her swollen lips, sucked them into my mouth one at a time. I nuzzled into her neatly trimmed pubic mound, now slick with her releases, licking the droplets that clung to the fine hairs.
Only when she was spotless, tasting only of my own saliva and her faint, clean skin, did her grip on my hair loosen. She gave my head a little pat, almost absently. A dismissal. I pulled back, my face wet, my jaw aching. As I moved to stand, I saw her take a long, deliberate drink from a large insulated water bottle on her desk. She caught my eye and winked, a quick, fierce flash of green before she turned her attention fully back to her monitor.
I was barely upright before another woman—this one with a severe black bob and cat-eye glasses—snapped her fingers twice, the sound sharp in the hum of the office. She pointed under her own desk.
And so it went. The day unfolded in a blur of wet heat and swallowed moans. I became a machine, a dedicated appliance moving from cubicle to cubicle. A stout woman with powerful thighs crushed my head between them as she came, her squirt so abundant it filled my mouth and overflowed, drenching the collar of my shirt. A shy-seeming Asian woman with a soft voice came with barely a sound, but her pussy wept an astonishing amount of silky fluid that I had to swallow in continuous gulps for nearly a full minute.
I noticed patterns. They all drank water constantly. Not sips, but deep, thirsty pulls from giant bottles. Some had two or three lined up on their desks. The air conditioning was cranked high, but the spaces under the desks were humid, intimate ovens. I also noticed the subtle competitions. A woman would watch me finish with her neighbor, her own hand sneaking under her skirt, and by the time I crawled to her, she'd be on the edge, coming almost the instant my tongue touched her, as if to prove she could get off faster, harder.
My break came not from a lack of demand, but from the Latina. She appeared at my side as I was wiping my mouth after a particularly enthusiastic brunette. She hadn't summoned me today. She'd been watching.
"Come," she said, her voice not inviting, but commanding. She led me not to a cubicle, but to a small, windowless break room. It held a fridge, a microwave, a sink, and a large, plain wooden table.
On the table sat a new jar. This one was bigger—a gallon-sized glass jug. It was three-quarters full of a liquid that swirled with cloudy whites and clears. Floating near the top were what looked like clumps of thicker, gelatinous substance.
"Sit," she said, pointing to a chair.
I sat. My heart was hammering. This wasn't part of the under-the-desk routine. This was something else.
She didn't play a video this time. Instead, she walked to the door and locked it with a definitive snick. Then she turned, leaned against the door, and crossed her arms over her ample chest. She was wearing a tight black pencil skirt and a red silk blouse that was unbuttoned one button lower than necessary.
"You liked your tip yesterday," she stated. It wasn't a question.
I just looked at her, not denying it.
A slow smile spread across her face. "I thought so. The way you drank it… the way you licked me clean." She pushed off the door and walked to the table, circling it like a shark. "You're not disgusted. You're hungry for it."
I remained silent. My dick throbbed in agreement.
"This," she said, tapping a long fingernail against the glass jug, "is today's collection. Morning session only." Her eyes gleamed. "We call it the Hydration Ceremony. Every girl contributes after her first orgasm of the day. A mouthful of squirt, straight from the source, spit into the jar. Some add… other things." She gestured at the floating clots. "A bit of come. Some spit. Whatever they feel like donating."
She came around behind my chair. I could feel her heat against my back. Her hands came down on my shoulders, her nails digging in just slightly. "Your job this afternoon is to empty this. All of it. Here. In this room. You don't leave until it's gone."
She walked to the fridge, pulled out another full water bottle—this one unopened—and placed it on the table next to the jug. "This is for them. To refill. So they can produce more for you." The cycle was explicit, horrifying, unbelievably hot.
"But," she said, leaning down so her lips were near my ear. Her breath smelled like mint and something darker. "You don't just drink it." She straightened up, went to a cupboard, and pulled out a large, shallow plastic bowl and a clean hand towel. She set the bowl in front of me.
"Pour some in the bowl first," she instructed, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Then… lower your face into it."
My breath hitched. She wanted me to lap it up like a fucking animal.
"Do it," she said, all pretense of playfulness gone.
My hands trembled slightly as I uncapped the heavy jug. The smell that wafted out was profoundly intimate—a chorus of every woman I'd serviced this morning, blended into one potent, musky aroma. I poured out a generous amount into the bowl. The liquid sloshed, pale and opaque.
I looked up at her. She nodded once, her expression impassive.
There was no dignity in this. That was the point. I bent over the table, lowered my face, and pressed my mouth into the cool surface of the collected fluids. I opened my lips and took a mouthful. The flavor was a complex symphony—the clean water base was there, but layered over it was the tang of a dozen different pussies, the sharp bite of saliva, the earthy richness of female ejaculate. It was salty, slightly sour, and undeniably, powerfully sexual. I swallowed.
"Use your tongue," she commanded softly.
I did. I began lapping at it, long strokes of my tongue through the liquid, drinking it noisily from the bowl. It was degrading. It was primal. My erection was a steel bar straining against my pants. I drank until the bowl was empty, then poured more from the jug.
She watched me in silence for ten minutes, as I drank directly from the bowl like a dog. Then, she moved. She came around the table, hiked her skirt up around her waist—she wore no panties—and sat on the edge of the table right next to the jug, her bare ass on the laminate surface. Her pussy was level with my face.
"Look at me," she said.
I looked up from the bowl, my chin dripping.
"You want to know what real punishment is?" she murmured. She reached between her own legs, spread her lips with two fingers. She was already wet, glistening. "It's not making you drink from a jar." She hooked a finger inside herself, gathered a thick glob of her own creamy arousal, and pulled it out. "Real punishment…" She brought her finger to the mouth of the jug and let the viscous strand of her come drip slowly into the collective brew. It coiled down through the liquid like a pale ribbon. "…is making you love it."
She then did something that stopped my heart. She lifted the heavy jug with both hands, positioned it between her thighs, and tilted it. A stream of the mixed fluid poured from the jug's mouth, directly over her exposed clit and pussy, cascading down over her asshole and onto the table below.
"The bowl is empty," she said, her voice tight with arousal. "Finish your job."
The message was clear. I shoved the bowl aside and got on my knees on the linoleum floor. I pressed my face into the mess on the table between her thighs. The puddle was warm from her body heat, infused with her own scent now mixing with everyone else's. I drank it directly from the table surface, my tongue scraping against the laminate as I chased every drop. My nose bumped against her inner thigh. I was lapping up a puddle of squirt, spit, come, and now her personal runoff, right off the fucking break room table.
When the table was clean, I wasn't done. The trail led to her. The liquid had streamed down her skin. I followed it with my mouth. I licked from the underside of her ass, up over the tight pucker of her asshole—which she clenched provocatively as my tongue passed—and up through the dripping wet cleft of her pussy. I licked her clean with a thoroughness that bordered on worship, drinking the diluted mixture from her folds until all I could taste was her, pure and potent.
She sighed, a long, shuddering exhalation. Her hands came down and cradled my head as I worked. "Good," she whispered. "Such a good little sink."
Finally, she pushed me back gently. I looked up at her, my face soaked, my soul laid bare. She was smiling—a real smile this time, not a smirk or a glare.
"The jug is still half full," she said, nodding toward it. "You have hours to go. Get comfortable."
She unlocked the door and left me there alone with my task and my raging hard-on. I heard the lock click behind her. I was a prisoner in this room of fluids. I turned back to the jug, to the bowl. My thirst was gone, replaced by a deep, aching need that had nothing to do with hydration.
I poured another bowlful. The thick clot from her pussy floated in the center. I lowered my face and drank.