I’m guessing many of us work in offices, so naturally we will have colleagues we secretly lust over. So I decided to start a fantasy story about five office ladies (OLs) for all brothers to enjoy… feel free to leave your comments and let me know if you like or hate it!
It was wonderfully quiet in the office at 11pm. With the hum of the fans from the computers being my only companion, I took a sip of coffee to keep myself awake as I watched the progress bar on the screen for the server software update. I could tell this is going to be a long night, as I run through the lengthy list of updates and patches that needs to be applied before the staff comes in tomorrow morning.
Still, I had to count my blessings to have this job. At 38, it was not easy for me to find a stable job with my diploma qualifications. I was employed in a logistics firm for many years, working my way from a IT technician up to a IT manager. When the economic crisis hit in 2009, I was unceremoniously laid off along with my team.
After freelancing for a few years doing various IT jobs and designing websites, a friend told me about an opening for a MNC selling system integration services and CRM products. They were looking for an assistant IT manager to help troubleshoot network issues and with miscellaneous IT stuff. Even though the pay was not terrific, I was happy just to have a stable income.
I was in a daze watching the flickering lights on the server racks when my mobile phone broke the cold silence in the server room. I knew from the number that it came from our office, but I didn’t recognize the extension. “That’s odd… who can be in the office with me at this ungodly hour?” I thought to myself.
The moment I picked up the call, a commanding voice resonated across the speaker. “Ben, the network is down. Why isn’t it working?” the female voice demanded in a sharp tone. “Hi… who is this asking?” I enquired. “Jo here… I’m trying to access some data on the server and I can’t get through,” she said in an irritated voice.
I rolled my eyes as I listened to the call. Jo was one of the member of an infamous sales team in the company that everyone nicknamed the “Gang of Five” - a parody of the infamous political group in the Chinese communist party. All five members of the sales team were females, and they shared the same traits of being hard-driving high achievers. Work and sales performance were everything to them, and they had absolutely no concept of personal or family life.
Because of their single-minded focus on work, they were hated by the other sales teams for delivering sales results deemed impossible by others. Even with the economy in doldrums, the Gang of Five booked in 18% of the company’s revenue, outperforming the other teams by more than double the sales. The bosses were extremely grateful to them, and showered them with generous pay packages and incentives that would make everyone else green with envy.
The gang was a tight knit group, and considered themselves an elite sales force. Every waking moment and every ounce of energy were spent on driving sales figures, so they never bothered making small talk to anyone else in the company. There was a running joke that if any of the gang members spoke to you, you’d better take all your money out of your wallet to buy lottery, because it would be your lucky day. And it seemed like I was about to get very lucky…
“Well Jo, we did send an email out last week about the server upgrading tonight,” I replied. “It’s going to take about 4 to 5 hours for the patching, rebooting and testing, so I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can do to make it go faster.” I heard a loud sigh over the phone, “I need the data urgently for my report. So I can’t get any work done tonight?”
I took a deep breath, anticipating an earful from her, “There is another network for the copiers and email system. You can still access those, but the database system will be down for about…” There was a click and the line went dead. I chuckled as I placed my phone back on the table. The gang members were never known to waste their breath with us mere mortals, especially when we were of no use to them.
I casually checked on the other network to ensure that it is still up and running, lest I get another call from the feminazis for disrupting their plans for world conquest. The network seemed to be working fine, but I spotted a networked copier on another floor reporting an error about its paper feeder. Since the server update was going to take all night, I decided to take the time to go troubleshoot the copier.
I took the lift to the 29th level, and the entire office was in darkness except for a meeting room. As I walked past, I could see from the narrow slits of clear glass between the frosted stickers that it was the Gang of Five having a discussion late into the night. They earned their reputation of being bitches through their cold, calculated ways of interacting with people, and they had their ways of looking haughty and condescending whenever they strode around the office.
The other sales team absolutely detested their high and mighty attitude, and I know that some of the sales guys joked about raping the Gang of Five to “show them some love”. The more arrogant the woman was, the more desirable and challenging it seemed to the guys to dominate her in bed. So it was no surprise that every testosterone-filled sales guy wanted to bed the leader of the gang – Queenie.
Nicknamed the “The Queen” for obvious reasons, Queenie was the sales director leading her pack of sales ladies. At 37, she was the youngest sales director in the company and certainly the most aggressive. She joined the company just five years ago, and quickly climbed up the ranks with her impressive sales figures. The gang members were all personally recruited by her to form her A-team, with each member bringing specific skill sets to the table.
Queenie was your quintessential corporate bitch. Aggressive, smart and ambitious, she was always seen in her power suit and high heels. She was a very attractive for a woman for her age, with great complexion, high cheek bone, a narrow nose and luscious lips. Sporting immaculate hair, nails and make-up, Queenie was the epitome of self-discipline and control. Accompanied by her team everywhere she went, she would suffer no fools and personified the devil in “The Devil Wears Prada. She had no qualms about telling senior managers or even other directors off should they get in her way when closing a sale.
Needless to say, The Queen had the backing of the big bosses because of her impressive track record in sales, but she was also the public enemy to many colleagues. She single-handedly embarrassed many male colleagues with her stellar sales performance and her sharp tongue, and many male colleagues were secretly turned on by the thoughts of fucking her brains out.
During a board of director’s meeting where I was around to facilitate the slide projection, I swore every male director was visually raping her when she stood up to make her presentation. I could almost see their thought bubbles of wanting to humiliate her sexually by stuffing their hard cocks into that patronizing mouth of hers.
Some even ventured that Queenie was promoted so quickly because she slept with the bosses. I doubt the bosses would do that, given the high possibility of her blackmailing them in return. With her massive contribution to the company, Queenie certainly didn’t not need to sleep with the bosses to earn her keeps. She was far too important to the company, and the bosses wouldn’t want to “shit where they eat”. In any case, should sexual favours be required, the Queen had her “Sex-assassin” to do that job for her.
With her long silky brown tresses, big doe eyes, tofu like complexion and pouty luscious lips, Claire exemplified the “come fuck me look”. And when you could finally draw your vision away from that slutty face, your eyeballs would get arrested by that pair of natural creamy D-cuppers barely constrained by her tight top, with a devilishly small waist and a butt that filled up her skirt so well that it would take your entire self-restrain not to reach out and smack her butt every time she leaned over.
And on days when she donned short skirts, you could see the eyes of every straight guy tracking her every move around the office as she strutted around in her pair of stilettoes on that pair of silky smooth and toned legs that went on forever up to the heavens. It took priesthood levels of control not to fantasize about having her.
And The Queen knew her effect on men, which was why she recruited Claire into her team. Claire was not exceptionally smart like the rest of the Gang of Five, but she had all the attributes of a purpose-built “sex-assassin”. If you were a straight man not totally enchanted by her slutty appearance yet, you would certainly melt when she turned on her charms and sultry voice. All you would remember was how good she smelled as she looked at you with that doe-like eyes and long lashes as she leaned in close to whisper in her sexy tone. It certainly didn’t help that she used glossy wet lipstick on her small luscious lips to deadly effect, making you hang on to every word from her lips.
In every high level deal that the Gang of Five closes, Queenie always made the presentations to the clients. As the deal progressed past the middle management, the C-suite became involved in the approval process and the stakes would get higher. If Queenie sensed deliberation on the part of the male clientele that cannot be resolved by sheer negotiation strategies, she would send in her “sex-assassin” to take out the objection. There had never been any evidence, but rumours were rife that Claire used more than her charms to secure the deals. But so long the deals were being closed, the bosses’ eyes were too. Everyone secretly joked the bosses would never kill the ‘chicken’ that laid the golden eggs.
As I turned the corner of the meeting room towards the copier, I nearly ran into Frey rushing back to the meeting in the dark office. She was clutching a stack of papers, and held them tight to her chest as she shuffled past me back into the meeting room. Of all the ladies in the Gang of Five, Frey was without doubt the most academically competent. She came from Suzhou since 5, and stayed with her uncle in Singapore. She was brilliant in her studies, and majored in statistics and mathematics in university. She was the human calculator in the team, crunching through tons of data to find opportunities for sales growth and expansion when nobody else could spot them.
Frey was not as glamourous as the rest of the ladies in the team, but she had the cute nerdy charm about her. A pair of tortoise shell framed spectacles perched on her small pert nose, and she had the good genetic makeup of girls from Suzhou, with perfect and fair porcelain skin, big eyes, and small plump lips. But because she spent so much time buried in her books during school days, she was socially awkward, and male colleagues found it especially difficult to speak to her. Ask her any question, and she would just rattle off her answer in short staccato sentences, hoping you would go away and not harass her.
Frey kept a short bob hairstyle which made her look like a young girl. And she was young – at 25 she was the second youngest team member. Her bashful behaviour and her rather petite height made her popular with guys who wanted to be protective boyfriends. Some interns and young male colleagues were also very attracted to her cute dimpled appearance, not knowing that she would never have the time to date so long as she was in the Gang of Five.
I made my way to the copier, and from the distance I could already make out the blinking error notice on the display. “Paper jam again,” I thought to myself. The company had been trying to cut cost, and we switched paper supplier recently. The new copier paper had been extremely problematic, causing periodic paper jams every other day. I checked the location of the jam, and swung open the compartment to remove the offending piece of paper. As I closed the panel, the copier continued with the remainder of the print job.
I deduced that it must have been printed by the Gang of Five, and Frey probably didn’t realize that the print outs were incomplete due to the paper jam. I picked up the printed documents and was about to return them to the team in the meeting room when something in my gut told me to take a closer look. The prints were from an Excel spreadsheet, but there was something odd about the figures. I took a second look, and my heart skipped a beat. I knew I was looking at something big, and hastened back to the server room with the prints in my hand.