The backpack vacuum roars to life in Gianna's hands, its genuine suction finally pulling at the debris scattered across the conference room carpet.
She guides the hose in slow, methodical arcs, watching rainbow sticky notes disappear into the canister with a satisfying whump.
The scent of sandalwood still clings to the air from the incense sticks she crushed beneath her sneakers earlier, mingling with the chemical bite of cleaning solution.
Aura and Tejas Thorne stand near the dais, their matching yoga suits—mauve compression fabric that looks painted onto Aura's curves and Tejas's spray-tanned frame—catching the overhead lights.
They exchange glances while Gianna works, their 'fresh meat' assessment palpable even with her back turned.
Gianna focuses on a cluster of deflated balloons tangled near the lectern, the vacuum hose wrestling with the latex before finally winning.
The whump-whump-whump of debris travelling through the hose fills the silence between them.
She moves to the dais itself, where confidential pages still lie scattered—profit projections, franchise territories, names of potential investors.
Her eyes catch fragments despite herself: passive income stream, minimal initial outlay, seven-figure potential.
The language of people who've never untangled someone else's pubic hair from a shower drain.
"Those are proprietary," Aura says, not moving to collect them.
"Then maybe you should've collected them. Your booking time is over."
Gianna's voice comes out flatter than she intends, her usual sarcasm dulled —they are a fuckin' hot couple.
The vacuum whines as she passes over a stubborn mint wrapper, the machine's newfound power almost too aggressive, jerking against her grip.
She adjusts her stance, sneakers squeaking on the carpet.
Aura drifts closer, her platinum waves catching the fluorescent light like spun sugar.
"Angry needs a release, sweety."
"I'm efficient." Gianna doesn't look up.
The vacuum finds another pamphlet, this one featuring a photograph of the Thornes themselves, arms raised in a victory pose against a sunset backdrop.
PRYSM: Elevate Your Existence.
She watches it vanish into the hose, imagines it shredded and mingled with dust and incense.
"Angry is for people who have time to feel things."
"And you don't?"
"I have a marine biology exam in forty-eight hours and a uniform that smells of smoking-room cigarettes."
The words escape before she can filter them, her jaw tightening against the admission.
She guides the vacuum toward the corner, where incense ash has left reddish smears on the baseboard.
Tejas laughs, that sharp bark that sounds rehearsed even when genuine.
"Oh, you're funny. You could go far in our business model."
Gianna stops the vacuum.
Screw scam selling.
The snozzle is jammed.
Aura reads this with interest: "The discount franchise. Twenty per cent off initial buy-in. We don't extend that to everyone."
Gianna straightens, the vacuum's weight settling against her shoulders. The dolphin charm presses cold against her sternum, hidden beneath the ridiculous frilly apron.
She looks from Aura to Tejas, taking in their synchronised postures, the subtle way they position themselves to flank her without seeming to move.
"Twenty per cent off a pyramid scheme is still a pyramid scheme."
Tejas's smile doesn't waver, but something sharpens behind his Botox-smoothed forehead.
"Multi-level marketing. Legal, regulated, proven."
"Proven to make who rich?" Gianna gestures with the vacuum hose, a sweep that takes in their designer athleisure, the gold chains at their throats, the teeth that cost more than her mother's monthly mortgage.
"The people at the top? Or the suckers who buy starter kits?"
Aura's head tilts, an assessing angle.
"Cutie, let's quell that fierce anger into something useful"
Aura has her chin.
Tejas, the usual male objective, hands on her arse.
The backpack vac hits the floor.
Aura's tongue tangles with Gianna's tonsils.
Fuck!
Fuck!
The first as Aura's finger delves under her knickers straight to her emerging slick moisture.
The second as Tejas stabs a wet finger straight into her tight tushy.
"Uhh! Uhh! Oof! Oof! Yes! Ahh! Ooohh! Fuck! Aahh! Mmm, mmm."
Aura has two fingers in Gianna's box.
And boy, are they movin' around.
They curl, they dig, they fan out like scissors, spreading her insides outside.
The double 'oof' as that prick Tejas had two fingers buggering her bum.
A power couple.
The pair ramped up the body amps.
The silicone tit bitch had three fingers ferreting in Gianna's squelchy snatch.
That cad, Tejas, had two digits indecently squatting her rilled starfish.
The fake blonde slitch was on her knees sucking out Gianna's pussy flaps.
Not the delicate dainty tease.
The wench was extending Gianna's girly bits like spinnakers with a tailwind.
Christ!
Her petite winglets had extension the young maid didn't believe until she saw it, felt it, luxuriated in it.
"Yes! Yes! Uhh! Uhh! Ahh!"
Well, the minx let her tongue settle on Gianna's pink bead.
She sucked it.
She slurped it.
Her tongue went around and around in lazy, then fast circles.
Gianna's dot with the lot gave shards of bliss, big time.
"Orggh! Yes! Yes! Uhh! Uhh!"
Her thighs quivered.
Her heart raced.
Well, a cock was rimming her tushy by this point.
"Rragghh! Oof! Off! Raghh! Uhh! Aahh!"
Tejas' stiffy burrowed into her constriction.
Deep, dirty and direct.
He pounded her tight crack.
Made her confined tush expand.
A tongue sweeping her pink jelly bean.
A cock churning into her raw rear pink gape.
Insane levels of pleasure, spreading, impossible to pinpoint.
Tejas creamed her arse.
It soothed the raw impact of his ramming.
Aura flicked Gianna's bead till she joined the world of ultra fem-climaxes.
"Orrghhh!"
The clear, leaking slick, the evidence of a super peak.
The trollop licked her fem-jus till Gianna's lipettes glistened like dew.
Tejas, the sod, manhandled her nipples just for the hell of it.
As they sat on the dais edge after, Aura went to the pitch:
"Well, girl, we have a model; are you in?"
"Great teamwork," said Gianna, "But beyond regular great sex, my life has other plans."
Tejas has to nearly spoil the perfect: "What on your knees for the minimum wage?"
Gianna is up. Tidying, reattaching the vac pack.
"Look, accepting the sexual isn't accepting a franchise."
The vacuum's motor hums.
Create a noise barrier.
"You be a team leader, inspire others," offers Aura.
"Exploit others," Gianna supplies.
Tejas grabs Aura's hand; the opportunity to snare a signature easily after sex is gone here.
Gianna sucks up rubbish with a regular whump, whump!
She is paid to make carpet pristine.