Tits-N-Ass Stack

Every weekend we had to do a thorough house cleaning. You either had to hide or look busy. I was assigned to dusting in the big/main room. It was long but not deep with an entrance/exit at each end. I guess back in the day this area was where the nuns kicked back. One wall was glass and the other lined with built in book shelves and cupboards where us clients kept our books, cigarettes and candy, although I didn't stash candy or any other food, I was getting fat as it was. The floor was high-gloss green linoleum, so shiny you could see your—grotesquely distorted—reflection in it. Someone buffed it every other week, one of the jobs that inspired my library, cause I didn't wanna get stuck with it or something equally unpleasant. Any job that involved physical work looked bad to me. I could see that letting any staff members know you had an exploitable skill was a big mistake.
A big faux-fieldstone fireplace took up one end of the room. There was never a fire, instead it was used to house a plastic Ficus tree. I didn't know it til I ventured out into the town but all the stone used in Alpena was fake. Aside from the dead paper mill, the big industry was making cement blocks that stood in for real rocks and stones. The nunnery was a design anomaly. It resembled mid-century west coast architecture, with red stained wood and faux limestone siding. The highest floor was 2 ½ and the roofs were flat and slanted. All the rooms were made for two and had built in closets, shelving and sinks that didn't work.
Do to the inactive sinks we had to use a community bathroom down the hall, for everything. Every morning for a few weeks toilet paper wads were stuck to the tile walls using bits of shit as glue. If you were seen leaving the bathroom without washing your hands, word would get out and no one would hold your hand during prayer circle. The culprit was never discovered and the mischief eventually stopped.



Saturdays sucked, there was so much dead time, and you could only pretend to clean for so long. Also there was really no where to hide, the basement was off limits after someone set fire to the laundry room. There were so many snitches, you couldn't go anywhere really without being reported, although most of the snitching was vendetta based so if you had no enemies you were safe.
Initially I was just going to sort the National Geographics in chronological order, and I recruited a couple guys to help me. Very quickly though it became apparent that everyone was drawn to the naked flat African breasts so we started cataloging those separately. Penis's and gore was fun too so those issues also got separate shelves. We laughed a lot pricking up the interest of the others, but we didn't want to get shut down so we kept mum, irritating them even more. After we finished word got out and you couldn't walk through the room without passing a couple guys perusing the tits-n-ass stacks. The issues with both nakedness and gore were stacked in their own cupboard and used one issue at a time as weekly specials, and were displayed accordingly.