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Kayla took the elevator to the first floor, where she followed the signs to the cafeteria. The room was quite crowded, full of women in skimpy clothes. There were no men. Kayla thought that was a bit odd, but then everything at DomCo was a bit odd. She stood in line and waited, scrolling through her Facebook feed. After spending the entire morning looking at other girl’s profiles, she began to notice just how many risque photos people were posting. Seemingly every post she came across was girls in bikinis. Girls in lingerie. Girls with their tits falling out of their tops, or tiny skirts, booty shorts.
She looked at her own boring profile with last year’s yearbook photo. She’d worn an ivory sweater that covered her to the neck, and a little bow in her curly brown hair.
Compared with the mental image of what she must look like right now, the girl on Facebook was a stranger. Everyone else’s profiles had pictures of parties, beaches, road trips. Hers showed books, or drawings she’d done. It seemed silly. She looked at the other girls, many of which had their faces bent to phone screens, as well. She held her phone out, snapped a selfie, and uploaded it.
In the photo, her curly hair spilled about her shoulders, a stray lock covering one eye. It looked sexy. The ridiculous shirt stretched across her big tits, “Put a Baby in Me” clearly visible. Her cleavage looked mouth-watering, and her flat tummy begged to be kissed. She stared at the photo. The sexy girl had a vibrator in her cunt, and no one else knew. Her brother had jerked off his cock on her belly while her mother had rubbed her snatch, but no one knew. The sexy girl in the photo was her. She looked at the stupid girl in the sweater, a bow in her hair, and scoffed.
A moment later, she saw a comment on her photo from Tiffany, reading “OMG! You are delicious!” It received a like. Kayla moved through the line. By the time she took a tray, there were a dozen likes and comments.
“Kayla? When did you get hot?” *Liked*
“That’s so trashy. I thought you were better than that. :(“ *Unfriended*
“Holy mother of tits!” *Liked*
“Where did you get the shirt? That’s so hot!” *Liked*
“I would bathe in your sweat!” *Liked*
“What a f’in slut. So trashy.” *Liked & Unfriended*
She tucked her phone back in her purse, and put food on her tray, grabbed a bottle of Obsequium, made it to the cashier, paid, and took a table alone in a corner. She ate robotically, as she stared at the milling throng of half-naked women, wondering what her life had become. Less than two weeks ago, she was the girl in the ivory sweater. Now, she had a vibrator up her twat, and she’d had half a dozen orgasms before lunch. She tried to puzzle it through, sure that there was something strange about it all, but her head felt too warm and fuzzy to think too hard about anything.
At ten minutes past 1:00, she discarded her tray and started down to the orientation room. She was 15 minutes early. Her badge opened the door to the room, and she used the extra time to walk back to the restrooms. Again, her badge would not open the door marked “People”. She walked into the women’s room, relieved herself, and sat through two orgasms that left her shaky and sweating. She pulled her company-issued panties back up, sliding the vibrator back into her sopping pussy. Then, Obsequium in hand, she waited the last few moments at the table with her hands folded, and her study guide in front of her. At precisely 1:30, Honey Cunt entered the room and beamed.