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A Bet Leads To Domination In The Office | Uncola Man | 11

 

There’s a nude woman sitting under one of the trees. Actually, two of them, both blonde. They both have cat(?) ears hooked onto their heads and are wearing collars leashed to a low-hanging branch. A few feet from them is a third blonde, sitting on a folding chair and reading a magazine. She’s dressed in a casual business suit, with her jacket on her lap, and is wearing a very visible shoulder holster. The magazine is “Guns & Ammo.” There’s a sandwich-board style sign nearby that says “FREE TO A GOOD HOME.”

Aside from the two leashes attached to the blondes, there are four more dangling from the branch.

Curious, the two of you walk over. The woman on the chair sets aside the magazine and stands up, smiling warmly at the two of you. “Looking to adopt?” she asks.

You’re not sure what to say. “How old are they?” Rebecca asks.

She gestures down at the two girls. One has black kitty ears, a long black tail, and is wearing purse-glove combos on her hands. “This one is ‘Kitty’ and she’s nineteen.”

The second one has red ears, a bushy red tail, and also has purse-glove combos. “This is ‘Vicki,’ and she’s nineteen in two weeks.”

They look up at you uncomfortably as you look them over. What are their tails attached to?

Oh. They aren’t tied onto them; they’re plugged in their anuses. No wonder they’re sitting uncomfortably.

“They come with driver’s licenses, birth certificates, social security cards, a few childhood pictures, and these costumes. There are also signed forms, allowing you to do as you like with them. You seem like nice people; would you like to pet one of them?”

You look down at the two young lovelies. “So… ‘Vicky’ is short for ‘Vixen,’ a female fox?”

“Yes! You’re the first one to get that.”

“And… there were four more of them??”

She sighs and takes a deep breath. “These girls were adopted, kind of as ‘trophy daughters,’ about ten years ago. The business their fathers’ ran went belly-up, so they can’t afford to keep them. They’re cute, obedient, and high-school educated, but don’t really have any trade skills or money. They aren’t even very experienced sexually; I know that’s hard to believe. They can cook from a cookbook and do anything else that involves explicit directions. As far as myself, I care about them just enough to try fifty times harder than anyone else at at least finding a place for them to sleep. So, do you want one?”

You look at her, aghast. “So their parents just… abandoned them?”

“Not legally; they’re over 18 and would be on their own if they had any useful skills. They’re intelligent and literate, and they understand fashion and makeup, but they aren’t experts. They would make good interns, maids, or house pets.”

Tempting. Rebecca doesn’t seem repulsed by the idea.

 

Leave? Take 1? Take both?


          Both: You could use some interns.

 
 
 

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