Samantha took a long, ragged breath before stepping out onto the office floor. Once upon a time, she’d managed a team in this section of the building, strutting between cubicles in expensive blazers and smart skirts. Now she scurried down the hall naked from head to toe. Tits bobbing with every unsure step and every frightened glance. Pussy and legs immaculately shaved, no way to hide her shame-fueled arousal.Samantha turned a corner. Two men in cubicles spotted her, laughing and clapping at her nudity. She swallowed hard, continuing past them with her head hung and her nipples taut, resisting every urge to cover herself. At least they weren’t former members of her team, she thought, though she knew that was only a momentary respite.Samantha came to the two rows of cubicles where the people she’d once managed worked. They were all empty. Samantha didn’t allow herself a sigh of relief. She continued forward, feeling every fiber of carpet against her bare feet, feeling alien wandering her former workplace and place of pride in the nude, past the cubes and to the door of the meeting room on the building’s outer perimeter. The meeting room that was always reserved for the team’s weekly meeting.Samantha stood before the door, heart pounding. She reached out her hand briefly, but hesitated. Once upon a time, she would have flung it open and immediately stepped in to take command. Now she teetered nervously from foot to foot, looking around for any excuse to be somewhere else, dreading what was to come.Samantha closed her eyes and took another long, ragged breath. She emptied her mind as best she could, and before she could think about it she thrust out her hand and knocked on the door. When she opened her eyes, she was half-shocked that she had actually done it. That was it, then, she thought. She’d officially thrown herself to the wolves.“Come in!” a cheerful-sounding and familiar man’s voice answered from within.Samantha felt herself start to go numb as she opened the door and stepped inside.A roomful of men immediately broke out into laughter, cheers, hollers and broad grins at the sight of her standing there buck naked, tits, ass and swollen cunt on full display in the meeting room she once presided over.Samantha had never felt so humiliated. She recognized most of the men. Jacob, a clean-cut man and previously her unofficial number two and workplace confidant stood from his seat, whipped his phone out of his pocket and started snapping pictures. Several other men followed suit, laughing and joking and commenting on her body all the while.“I knew always knew she had some top-tier tits, man!” someone said.“Was she always such a slut? Look at her, she’s wet! She’s getting off on this!” another man said to a swell of guffaws.“Bet you always dreamed of fucking that sweet little ass, huh, Jacob?” said Roberts, an overweight and balding engineer while her elbowed Jacob in the side. “Maybe now you’ll get your chance!”“Now, now, gentlemen,” an unfamiliar gray-haired lady at the head of the table said, smiling. “As you may have noticed, we have a naked woman in the room. I’ve been informed that she was previously the team leader and direct report for most Ankara bayan escort of you. She will no longer be filling that role. The company is looking both internally and externally for a replacement manager for you all. Now then,” she said, looking Samantha up and down, “I’m pleased to inform you that Samantha here has been thoroughly demoted and given a new position better suited to her abilities.”The men cheered and clapped.“Samantha, why don’t you tell these gentlemen your new title?”Samantha bit her lip. She glanced across the room at the smiling, excited faces of her former employees, taking them in one by one while her stomach tied itself in knots. She cast her eyes down at her breasts. On the edge of tears, she forced out the words: “J-junior Urinal, ma’am. For the first floor West m-m-men’s room.”There was a brief moment of silence before the room broke out into a frenzy of whoops and hollers and the heaviest laughs she’d heard all morning.“Holy shit,” Jacob said, falling back in his chair and cracking up.“Is this for real?” someone asked.Another man nodded enthusiastically in response. “Hell yeah, it is!”“She was a urinal girl this whole time?” asked Charles, a normally quiet and withdrawn programmer who sported thick glasses and a well-trimmed ginger beard and who Samantha had always scored highly on performance reviews. “Wish we’d known sooner! Maybe now her mouth will actually be useful for once!”Samantha quivered. These men used to respect her. Or at least, she’d thought they had. Had they felt this way about her for the whole three years she’d been a manager? Maybe even before that?The woman at the head of the table waited for a lull in the rabble before speaking again: “You gentlemen will be happy to know that I’ve booked Samantha for the full duration of this meeting.”“Booked her?” Roberts asked.“Yes,” the woman said, “all the urinal girls servicing the washrooms on premises are now available to be booked for meetings. The company hopes this will improve morale and attendance at meetings and minimize the need for anyone to step out to take a leak during long-hauls. There’s a new widget in Outlook to book urinal girls. The only stipulation is that you can’t book out all the girls who work in a particular men’s room at the same time, at least one needs to be in there for regular service. Most of the men’s rooms currently have two dedicated urinal girls. HR has already added a chapter to the online employee’s handbook with all the details. Anyway, that’s enough about that. Please take your spot in the corner back there, sweetheart, and let these gentlemen get back to work,” she said, gesturing.“Yes, ma’am,” Samantha said haltingly.She slowly walked the length of the room, feeling a dozen pairs of eyes on her. She couldn’t help but notice six large pitchers full of water on the table and a glass in front of each man. In the back corner of the room, next to the big bay window – on the first floor, where anyone passing by on the street could see inside – there was a bright blue mat on the floor. Samantha stepped onto it. It seemed to be some kind of space-age super-absorbent fiber sponge type Escort bayan Ankara thing. It seemed ready for a lot of use, Samantha thought.Samantha turned back to face the men. Their eyes were all still on her. They were still making comments to each other, looking her up and down, appraising her like a piece of meat. Samantha got down on her knees. A few eyes widened. Men poked and prodded each other excitedly. Samantha’s training kicked in. She spread her thighs just so. She folded her hands behind her, straightened her back and thrust her breasts outward. She let her eyes lose focus until they looked dead, hazy. She tilted her head back and opened her mouth wide, as wide as she could sustain. The men began to laugh and joke anew. They took out their phones and snapped more pictures. Her transformation was complete. She was now a human urinal.Somehow the meeting managed to get on track, moving on to matters of deadlines and software design. The men took copious sips of water, pouring glass after glass. Occasionally they glanced back at her and chuckled at the position she’d put herself in, sitting there so patiently with her mouth open, inviting them, almost begging them to use it. But for the most part they ignored her. Samantha’s mind began to wander, unable to focus on what anyone was saying, occupied with maintaining her pose.She thought back in mild shock at how rapidly things had changed. It had only been a month ago that Samantha had chaired her last meeting in this room. Things would never be the same.Urinal girls were a scientific enigma. As far as Samantha knew, it was a genetic condition. Some women – about 1 in 200 of the female population – were simply born to be urinated on. Everyone knew the signs, even if no one could quite explain them: perpetually pale skin, minimal-to-nonexistent gag reflex, and something about them – some inexplicable je ne sais quoi that clicked with a primordial part of men’s brains and said ‘this is where you go pee’, along with some equally primordial part of the urinal girl’s brain that made them sit there and take it.Cave paintings had been found that seemed to be the earliest depiction of urinal girls. Some theorists speculated that it was an adaptation, something that had evolved in homo sapiens or their ancestors to give females a role and a survival advantage in early hunter-gatherer societies where death rates for males may have been sharply higher than for females. Urinal girls had always been there, in the background, being put to use but rarely making the history books. It was only in the last thirty years or so that it became socially acceptable to even talk about them publicly, let alone study them scientifically.Most urinal girls ‘blossomed’ by the time they finished high school. Everyone knew of a young woman at their school whose life was derailed by a diagnosis. The possibility they’d grow up to be a urinal was common fodder for schoolyard taunts and – at least among girls without the greatest self-confidence, or possessing that common teenage neurosis – a lingering source of dread. By the time they graduated, most young women could justifiably Bayan escort Ankara breathe a sigh of relief and continue living their lives fearlessly. Being diagnosed as a urinal girl in adulthood was exceedingly rare. But it wasn’t impossible.Samantha had gone in for a routine physical examination when she got the news. She was flabbergasted, at first. She was pushing thirty years old, it couldn’t happen. But the follow-up test confirmed it. She’d been a stealth urinal girl all her life. She simply hadn’t known it.After that, nothing was the same. The doctor told her she’d inform Samantha’s employer and scheduled her for three weeks of therapy and training to acclimate her to her new life.Something must have subtly changed about Samantha’s demeanor after that, because on her way home, sitting on the subway, feeling numb and still reeling from the shock, a man approached her, unzipped, and pissed all over her face, blouse and jeans for the first time in her life in front of six or seven total strangers. She hadn’t even known how to react. But she’d learn. Soon enough, she’d learn.Samantha was pulled out of her reverie. She became aware of a figure in front of her. She glanced up and her eyes focused until she saw Jacob’s face looking down at her. Samantha’s cheeks flushed. She’d had a crush on him, once, but it didn’t pan out. I guess it figures he’d be the first, Samantha cursed to herself.Behind him, men were snickering and tittering with glee. Jacob flashed his trademark charming smile. Then he unzipped, pulled out his flaccid penis and began aiming, hovering inches from Samantha’s wide open mouth.There was a time Samantha would’ve dreamed of seeing Jacob’s penis, maybe even having it in her mouth, but not like this. It took Jacob an agonizingly long time to get ready. Samantha became acutely aware of his body, of every little slouch as he relaxed his posture, of every breath he took. Eventually, Jacob closed his eyes and let a tiny sigh flare out his nostrils. Samantha was confused for a moment. She was caught off guard when the first spray of piss hit her tongue.Samantha’s eyes went wide. She quickly felt overwhelmed. The acrid taste against her tongue made her want to double over and spit it out, but she held steady. The smell of urine filled her nostrils as droplets aerosolized in her mouth. Samantha subtly maneuvered her head, angling herself to ensure she got as much as possible of the arc of Jacob’s pee into her mouth, just like she’d been taught. The liquid rapidly pooled around her tongue, threatening to spill out between her teeth, but she managed to start gulping back just enough to stop herself from overflowing, all without closing her mouth, continuing to accept all the piss that came her way.Eventually, after what seemed like an unreasonably long time and an exhausting amount of work for her neck muscles, Jacob’s stream slowed to a trickle, and then stopped. Samantha reduced her frantic efforts, breathing heavily through her nostrils. Her mouth was still filled nearly to the brim with frothy yellow piss. Some of the men in the room, her former employees and a few new faces, came forward to take more pictures and to pat Jacob on the back.“Everyone in the office needs to see this,” Charles said, attaching a pic he’d taken to an email and firing it off.“Everyone in our foreign offices, too!” someone said, sounding almost giddy. “Ooh, some of our partner companies have guys who had to deal with her too, right? Make sure they see this!”