❝My imagination
Turned into existence
Only in an instant
A beautiful creation❞

After many a long night spent nursing her children and pleasuring the man she'd wed, Lady Alice had finally reached the life-defining moment she'd only had the luxury of dreaming for herself before.

She was going to cum for the first time.

Her inner skirt lay bunched up around her waist, held still by a shaky hand that was facing a war of urges. Between keeping her gown in place or flying to her mouth to silence the pleasurable and embarrassing, moans that escaped her-she didn't know quite what to do with it.

A rather sudden flick of a daring tongue in a place she'd never imagined it to be had her slapping her palm to her lips. As if suppressing her moans were close enough to undo the taboo of the entire act.

Lady Alice's eyes fluttered in a state of disbelief as she looked down to see Charlotte, the Baroness of Bolsover, down on her knees, giving her body and what lay between it the deserving attention it had never received before in eight years of a loveless marriage.

Is this what they call real pleasure?

As if on cue, Charlotte paused for the shortest of seconds and looked up, her green eyes meeting the Lady's blues with a hint of mischief in them. She knew. She knew exactly what she was doing to Alice. She knew the dangers of devouring her friend up against the walls of her open bedchamber like this. She knew that any moment now, one of the scullery maids could come in and catch the fright of an era.

But she did not stop, instead giving Lady Alice a smirk dripping with desire. In every meaning of the word.

When the Duke had first introduced her to Charlotte at yet another dinner party she'd been forced to attend, Alice hadn't anything positive to think of the woman. She despised most of the nobility, but the Baroness was nothing like them.

"You two might make an unlikely friendship," her husband had said dismissively, waving Alice away at the time to return to his group of entitled men.

If only he knew.

"My lady?"

The baroness asked in a tone more teasing than respectful. She gently unhooked Alice's leg from around her shoulder and brought her heel down to the ground with a surprising tenderness, giving her ankle a gentle kiss.

"Y-yes?"

Smiling, Charlotte rose to her feet and towered over Alice's smaller and shaky frame. Before Alice could think further, she felt Charlotte's cool fingers delve between her legs and her breath hitched, back arching off the wall and into her arms.

Unlikely friend indeed.

"Do you touch yourself, Lady Alice?" Charlotte breathed into her ear and then pressed a long line of kisses down the column of her neck.

Alice bit back a moan, feeling every nerve in her body light on fire as Charlotte stroked her. She lay her head back against the wall, trembling like a leaf in the baroness's arms as she continued her ministrations.

"Do you feel yourself as I feel you right now?" With a slight pause, she added, "Does he?"

"No."

Lady Alice's answer was fast and desperate.

"Of course not," she said, her tone calmer. "No one has."

Charlotte's eyes lit up.

"Good."

Harper.

She slipped a finger inside the Lady, causing the latter to buck against her hand in an uncharacteristic display of desire.

"Very good," she cooed.

It was.

Hellooooo, earth to Harper!

It was all the goodness in the world she could imagine, brought to life at the tips of another woman's fingers. Alice looked into Charlotte's eyes as she felt herself come undone for the first time. And as the night would prove, certainly not the last.

Oye, bitch!

A hand came down on the table, slamming it with enough force to rattle any decent woman out of an orgasm.

"Christ Almighty, Evan!"

He stood tall and proud, surveying me from the other end of the circular table like an Avenger of Accounting. A terrible premise for a series that no one in the world would watch, but for him, anyone would tune in for sure.

Work-husband extraordinaire who'd magically mastered the art of straddling the line between 'Mr. Perfect' and 'Mr. Insufferable', Evans stood tall with the grace of a tennis pro and the finesse of a ballet dancer in one. The first time I met him, I'd bluntly asked if he moonlighted as a sculpture model in his spare time. He'd answered 'yes' to trip me up. And so had commenced our ill-fated duo.

If there were ever a 'People Magazine's Sexiest Tree-Hugger' award, he'd be a shoo-in; with sandy blonde hair that looks like it was coiffed by a team of overzealous hairstylists and green eyes so enchanting, they could make the rest of humanity's remaining trees blush with envy.

Right now, they were drilling me down with equal parts hilarity and annoyance in them. I blinked, only just beginning to remember where exactly I was and what exactly I'd been doing.

I slammed my Chromebook shut on instinct.

Evan's eyebrows shot up into his surprisingly oily T-zone.

"What are you doing?" he asked. Like every other time he'd caught me alone in the staff lounge at lunchtime. "Seeing what's new in porn?"

More like writing it.

"No," I answered, clearing my throat. My voice came out rehearsed with a convincing lie, just like every other time he'd asked. "I was looking up Christmas gifts."

"Bitch!"

The second time he shouted it warranted more attention from the others entering the now-crowded lounge. Once they saw it was us, they lost interest. There was no potential for gossip here. Evan and I were as gay and straight as a male-female duo could be.

Without a second to spare, he launched to my side of the table and plopped down on the vacant seat next to me.

"It's tickets to see Dua, isn't it?" he asked, eyes sparkling with excitement. "Listen, I will sell my soul to Hades if that's what you're getting me for Christmas."

I smirked and gently rubbed the skin of my Chromebook.

"I'm not sure Hades would want your soul."

"You're right, he couldn't handle it," Evan muttered and leaned back. "My ass comes dipped in too many shades of glitter; it'd blind the poor devil."

I rolled my eyes, momentarily distracted by the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.

"Did you just get back from the 1k charity run or something? Why are you so sweaty?"

Evan's eyes widened.

"You didn't see?"

His eyes flit to my Chromebook, recognition clicking in.

"Oh right. I thought that was your work laptop for a sec. My bad."

"See what, Evan?"

"The salary hikes are out."

"They are?!"

I jumped to my feet, kicking back my chair with enough energy to send it toppling out. Evan muttered something behind me but I didn't catch it, racing out of the staff lounge and toward my cubicle, nearly running into ass-hat Reynolds in the process.

"Watch it, nimrod!" he hissed, pulling away from my bubble of existence as if I was a virus.

"Your fly's open by the way."

Panicking, the greaseball looked down only to see his pants were perfectly in order.

"I swear to Go-"

"You might want to open it, I mean," I sneered and started walking backward. "I'm about to go steal that promotion and rob your hoity-toity ass blind. You're going to be pissing yourself in a moment anyway."

Reynold's cold glare turned colder. Antarctica could never.

"We'll see about that, Harper."

Flipping off my nemesis, I whirled back to face the direction of my cubicle and jogged toward it. Mostly everyone was out for lunch or chatting with colleagues near the watercoolers. What a time from HR to drop the announcements.

I sat down in my chair with a huff, clicking and activating the screen. My fingers were a flash across the keyboard, my heart pounding faster than Lady Alice's from my story, which was saying something really. Sure, tying the importance of a salary hike to the thrill of a woman's first big O might be a little presumptuous but I had a lot riding on this.

My eyes flickered to the framed picture of my baby brother on my desk, to the wide-toothed grin of reckless abandon as he leaped off the swing set and into the air. As if he were a bird about to fly. It was one of the last times I'd seen him smile for himself and no one else.

The world needed to see that smile again.

My resolve hardened as I opened my email and stared at the subject line of the first one on top.

Sub: COLLINS/ACC/00183041 - Salary Details 2024

This was it.

This was my life-defining moment.

I double clicked the email.

Dear Ms. Collins,

After a thorough evaluation of your performance and contributions to FinTrix, I regret to inform you that we were unable to approve a promotion at this time. We recognize your dedication and hard work, and this decision was not made lightly, but we are confident you will continue to thrive in your role as Senior Business Unit Accountant.

Additionally, this year's salary increment will be at 1%. We understand that this may not meet your expectations but please keep in mind that salary adjustments are determined based on various factors, including overall company performance and market conditions.

We understand your disappointment, and we encourage you to work closely with your team and management to identify areas where improvements can be made.

To recognize your commitment to FinTrix over the last six years, we are happy to award you an annual bonus of $10,000 for your hard work this year.

If you have any questions or would like to discuss this further, please feel free to reach out to your HR representative or schedule a meeting with your supervisor.

Thank you for your understanding, dedication, and continued commitment to our company. We look forward to seeing your continued growth and success in the coming year.

Rachel S.
FinTrix HR

I stared at the words on the screen.

A 1% hike? After six years of working here and the generous 15% I'd been given three years ago which was the last real raise I'd gotten ?

And the promotion that I'd most certainly been sure was going to land in my pocket? They wanted me to kiss it goodbye?

No Fin-fuck-Trix-ing way.

This company had to be joking. Either that or the company had become a joke.

Good girl, veeeeeeeery good.

Lady Charlotte's cooing echoed in my head, goading me like remnants of a wonder-turned-nightmare that I'd written to life.

Just minutes ago, I'd been happily living out my short but well-deserved break as my alterego, ErosInk, fulfilling the forbidden fantasies of my million-subscriber fanbase online. Now, it felt like gallons of ice water had been tipped down over me, extinguishing the fire within.

"This...can't be real."

I buckled forward on the desk, my hands coming to my cheeks in mortification.

"No no no no no no..."

"Oye."

"No!"

I spun around on my chair, holding a hand up in front of Evan to stop him from jumping into the jokey tirade he always did. Now was not the time.

"Do not start."

He peeked from behind my hand, staring me in the eyes with obvious concern and not a dot of whimsy.

"You got laid off too?" he asked, fairly calm but the hint of panic in his tone was unmistakable.

"What do you mean 'too'?"

"Reynolds is back there in the pantry crying to his groupies," he muttered, jutting his head back in the direction of where we'd come back from. "He said he got laid off and he's bitching about you stealing his promotion."

Guess he was pissing himself after all. I would have taken more delight in that information if not for the fact that I was in a metaphorical puddle of my own right now.

"You didn't get the promotion?"

"Worse," I muttered solemnly and rolled to the side of the cubicle, giving Evan space to come in and read the email. He let out a low whistle.

"I know the economy's been kicking our ass and the lay-offs were expected but 1%? And that bonus is abysmal!"

"What did you get?" I asked, my voice low in an attempt to hide the fact that I was two seconds away from crying myself.

"Um...nothing much."

I grabbed Evan's hand and dug my nails into his palm.

"Tell me or so help me God, I'll-"

"10% raise and a $40k bonus. Please don't scar my left hand, I have a date tonight I intend to impress."

I let go and Evan moved back with an exaggerated huff, airing out his palm.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, dropping the theatrics and shooting me a look of sympathy. "I guess they're incentivizing the Techies like me this year with all this AI crap than focusing on the Accounting team."

He hesitated for a moment before adding, "I know you need the money more right now than I do so we could split the bonu-"

"Don't even finish that thought," I warned.

Evan came from a family far wealthier and financially settled than mine. A product of privilege, he refused to tap into it or show off his riches most of the time, wanting to work and experience life for himself.

By every right, he didn't 'need' the money he made but that didn't mean he could take me up as a charity case.

"But-"

"Evan."

He sighed.

"Alright. I won't bring it up again but...c'mon, Harper. That has to be a typo."

Evan glared at the screen, looking increasingly incensed by the low figures on there.

"If jerkface-Reynolds got laid off and you didn't get a promotion, who did?"

"I don't know but this," I said, and tapped the monitor loudly with my fingernail, "isn't a mistake. HR never makes mistakes."

Just then, the computer dinged, alerting us of another email. Evan and I jumped forward at the same time, our faces jamming in front of the screen to devour that subject line. Maybe it had been a mistake after all?

Sub: URGENT-Code of Conduct Concerns

Inside me, something exploded.

And it was definitely not my lady parts.

_____

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Song: Coming To My Senses by Alina Baraz