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> "Can I just say one word in my defense?"
> "I don't think that's a good idea, mum. Your mouth is working for the prosecution."
> —Absolutely Fabulous, "Poor"
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Arc 2: "The Inspection"
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"And that … is why I am the single greatest, most brilliant, most beautiful businesswoman in the whole, wide galaxy!"
As Philomena's speech filled up the small, empty office she used as a bedroom, she raised her omnitablet to eye level. The palm-sized rectangle's touchscreen glowed bright and crisp compared to the dingy walls. She skimmed the next line of her script.
"'Wait for clapping to stop,'" she mumbled.
She lowered the tablet, put her hand on her hip, and struck a coy pose. Inside her mind, Philomena stood on the stage of a massive auditorium. All the rows and rows of seats were filled with hunks in three-piece suits. As they brought their meaty hands together to honor her incredible genius, lust sparkled in their eyeballs.
Yes, yes! Give me praise! More of it! Praise me!
In the corporate culture that ruled the galaxy, being a confident, successful executive was the highest form of eroticism.
The neatly-suited hunks gobbled up her poise and her style, and her own stomach churned with desire. Beefy, sculpted bodies … rubbing against the most expensive fabrics in the universe … undoing their buttons, one at a time … slowly revealing the hidden skin and muscle … flexing as primal strength rippled through their abs … all the way down to those stout hips …
Checking her script again, she spotted a note she'd made. 'Go for something stronger?!?!?!'
She touched her forefinger to her pursed lips, leaned forward, and arched her back. In reality, she was wearing a plain T-shirt and blue jeans. But in her mind, she had on a stunning black dress with a price tag higher than a small space station. As she leaned forward, the studs got a nice peek down the front of her dress, at the most precious thing in the universe: her celestial body.
But only a peek.
If they wanted any more, first they'd need to spend every waking minute waiting on her hand and foot. They needed to prove they were good boys. That they were up to the task of earning her favor. Only then would they be rewarded with the galaxy's greatest treasure: a spot in her harem of hunky boytoys.
It seemed that even just a tiny glimpse of her celestial body was enough to drive the hunks wild with lust. They jumped to their feet, vaulted atop the seats, clambered over each other in a mad dash to the stage. Each powerful stride made the thick muscles bulge up under their very expensive suits.
Her mouth watered as she imagined ripping off the expensive wrapping and nibbling on all those delicious flavors of manmeat.
They crowded at the foot of the stage, jostling with each other to bask in her light. They thrust their hands up towards her, their heads tilted back so their adoring faces could gaze up at her in awe. She stood so far above them, and they wanted to climb up to her level, and—
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
A chime burst her fantasy like a pin popping a balloon.
After wiping a trickle of drool off her lips, she stomped over to the intrapanel beside the door and checked the notification.
Ugh, who's at the front door? she thought.
She tapped the icon to open an office-wide comms channel. As she spoke at the screen, her voice echoed from all the other intrapanels wired throughout the office complex.
"Ramirex? Ramirex!"
Another chime from the front door undercut her voice.
Philomena bent forward until her lips were right in front of the intrapanel. Her shoulder-length copper hair swung down in front of her eyes like falling curtains. With an annoyed grunt, she tucked it back behind her ears.
"Ramirex, as your boss, I demand you answer me, right now—!"
Suddenly, her voice stopped echoing. The other end of the line connected, and she heard the hiss of running water come over the speaker. An onscreen label told her Ramirex was inside the warehouse.
"Y-Yes, Ph-Ph-Philomena?" Ramirex asked.
"Somebody's at the door."
Running water continued to hiss over the comms channel.
"… and?" the other woman answered at last.
Did she forget who's the chief executive around here?! Philomena thought.
"Aaaaaaaaaand … Answer it!"
Ramirex whined, "I-I'm in the shower. I'm all wet." After a pause, the other woman blurted out, "Ah ha ha, n-not for you! Ha ha! Ha! J-J-Just in general!"
As the idiot on the other end fell silent, a third chime interrupted them.
The ache of frustration burned through Philomena's chest like a reactor melting down. She threw her head back and groaned at the ceiling, then whipped her head forward and barked at the intrapanel.
"Looks like I have to do everything around here, don't I?!"
Before Ramirex could make any more excuses, Philomena hit the icon to close the channel. The hiss of running water dried up instantly. She fiddled with the interface and opened a new comms channel to the intrapanel at the front door.
"Kestrel Mining," she said.
"Hello. My name is Xavian Darrd, and I represent station management. You should see my credentials on your screen."
A legit-looking message from the station's internal network popped up, informing her Darrd was on official business.
"May we speak face-to-face?" he asked.
She looked down at her jeans and T-shirt. It wasn't a very 'chief executive' look. But that Cartoobian facial had done wonders for her mood. She felt confident that her executive style would shine brightly, no matter what she was wearing. Unlike her useless employees, her 'corporate culture' poise hadn't ever failed her.
Being an executive isn't all cocktails and hunky harems, Philomena!
You need to be able to handle whatever the universe throws at you!
"I'll be right there," she said.
"Alright," Darrd replied.
She closed the comms channel, moved her finger over an inch, and hit the icon to open the door. The drab, featureless rectangle slid into the wall. She strode through the office complex. Each time her feet came down on the thin, threadbare carpet, the hard floor underneath beat against her sneakers and hammered her soles. Each weary blow wore her down a little more. It felt like the grime coating everything was just waiting for a chance to rush at her, cling to her celestial body, and cover her from head to toe in filth.
This place might be disgusting, but that just makes you shine even brighter!
Yeah!
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