Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. <!--ADULTSONLY--> [REPOST] TITLE: The Interview. TAGS: mind control, big tits, lingerie, slut, mild incest, latex, stilettos, corsets, humiliation, submission, foul language, scat, piss. SYNOPSIS: The story concerns a young, well-endowed girl who has an interview with a company purportedly engaged in the business of manufacturing lingerie for the `outsized woman'. The girl is vulnerable to the highly developed mental and physical controls of the interviewer and submits herself rapidly to his dominance. Later, her own mother gets drawn into the clutches of her manipulative boss. NN NN OOOOOO TTTTTTTT IIIIIII CCCCCC EEEEEEEE NNN NN OO OO TT II CC CC EE NNNN NN OO OO TT II CC EE NN NN NN OO OO TT II CC EEEEE NN NN NN OO OO TT II CC EE NN NNN OO OO TT II CC CC EE NN NN OOOOOO TT IIIIIII CCCCCC EEEEEEEE DON'T LET YOUR KIDS SEE THIS! This is an erotic story, intended, exclusively, for an entirely adult readership. They all have a very heavy sexual content and will contain combinations of themes. If you are likely to be offended by any of the things mentioned above, you should not read beyond this point, but immediately navigate away from this page. The act of writing does not mean that the author is in any way engaged in or complicit to acts of the nature described herein. The act of writing (or even reading) about deviance, perversion and degradation can be a liberating and strangely cathartic experience, but some ostensibly sexual behaviours are always going to be wrong. I cannot tell you which, or why. You have to make those determinations for yourself. NOTE: A major influence on this story's central themes was the writer, Arthur Saxon and I would like to acknowledge this. SCROLL DOWN TO READ... A space beneath this has been left intentionally blank. 1. The Interview "Very well, Miss Cooper, now, I'd like you to lift up your blouse and show me your tits, if you don't mind." "I beg your pardon, Mr. Lansing?" the woman in the chair in front of his desk spluttered. "Did you just ask me to lift up my blouse and... and, well... did you?" Her attitude had changed on the instant. From the pleasant, accommodating woman she had been seconds ago, she was now rigid with indignation. Inwardly, he sighed. "Yes, Miss Cooper, I did. This is a lingerie design and manufacturing company. I want to see, first of all, whether you already have sufficient faith in our products to be wearing one of our brassieres, and secondly, whether you are prepared, as my personal assistant, to project a suitably appropriate image to the clients that will come through this office." He deepened the tone of command. "Pull the blouse out of your ridiculously long skirt and lift it up so that I can see what you've got covering your big tits." He almost managed to take control. Involuntarily, her hands undid the buttons on the front of her jacket and began to grip the slight ruck in the blouse over her stomach, her eyes on his, when she shuddered and regained a degree of self-consciousness. "I will do nothing of the sort." Her eyes suddenly blazed with anger and disgust. "I believe that you are a pervert, Mr Lansing," she huffed, "...and I have no intention of working with or for you now or at any point in the future." She continued to mutter under her breath, twisting in the chair, but not yet leaving. "And I, Miss Cooper, have no intention of offering a very highly paid and important job to someone who has failed, totally, to understand what that job entails. This interview is at an end. Good day, Miss Cooper." The woman spluttered some more as she rose; splintered phrases scattering into the frigid air of the office. "I have never... The nerve of the man... To be treated like... Who does he think..." "I said, good day, Miss Cooper." He pointed, "You may leave by that door over there. It will lead you directly to the street." She mumbled some more meaningless phrases; her face blotched with red beneath the creamy powder, and then, thrusting her chest out as if to emphasise what he had been denied, "You'll be hearing from my agency, Mister Lansing; highly improper conduct. Why I..." "I can assure you of two things, Miz Cooper. Number one: I will hear nothing from MY agency, other than the names of other, more suitable young ladies for interview, and number two: I will hear nothing from you ever again, unless I want to. Now get out, Miz Cooper. His eyes returned to the list on his desk, even as the door slammed shut behind yet another candidate to retreat in haste, having also failed the first of Lansing's real tests. `Two left to go,' he sighed, and then, pressing the rectangular button on the intercom connection with the receptionist in the outer office, "Lizzie, send in the next candidate, will you, but give me a couple of minutes to run through her resume. Thanks, love." `Miss Thainee Porntip... unusual name... Good word-processing skills, but not a particularly astounding academic career in school. Ah, no dependents apart from a single mother and the physical measurements are more than acceptable.' Lansing had written the job's very specific `physical' requirements himself, as always, and the necessity for a bust size in candidates in excess of a DD cup was something that the agency was perfectly used to complying with, as they were with Lansing's stipulations on the hip to waist ratio. Lansing liked big asses. There was a soft knock on the door. "Come in. Ah, Miss Porntip, take a seat." He gestured towards the chair placed immediately in front of his desk. "Am I pronouncing your name correctly? I dislike making mistakes." "No, that's it. My mother is half Thai." She said, in a soft voice, and as she sat and crossed her legs, her short skirt rode up, revealing a smooth length of thigh. Lansing cleared his throat. "Excellent, so that accounts for your distinctive Asian looks then. You have a very nice bloom to your complexion, if I may say so, very much the thing." The young woman hid a shy smile by ducking her head and letting the long black tresses of her hair cover her embarrassment. "Now, I have a few questions for you. Shall we begin? You received the introductory package of materials, didn't you?" She nodded, shyly. "Did you listen to the CD?" "Oh yes, sir, I listened to it on my Walkman... jogging and last thing at night, every day." "Good girl. It's sometimes hard to find young women who will put in the hours necessary to get a good backing on the company before they interview. That's fine then..." As the interview progressed, Lansing carefully tested the implanted keywords that would, perhaps, allow him to gain control of this beautiful girl. Although, given his lack of success with those that had gone before, he was somewhat lacking in his usual confidence. However, as the interview went on, his use of the command words began to have a visible effect on her. She began to relax. As she did so, she uncrossed her legs and allowed the skirt to rise even further, slowly revealing a small triangle of pink satin or lycra that had pulled slightly into the cleft of her sex, fashioning an intriguing `camel toe'. Her answers were beginning to second-guess what his needs of them might be and she unfastened another button on her blouse above those magnificent breasts, as if the temperature in the office had suddenly grown too warm. "And now, Miss Porntip, we move into the last and most important phase of this interview. This is where I establish whether or not you are exactly suited to the very particular needs of this important position. I mean, this is a very dynamic and forward-looking business, and we need to find the perfect candidate to fill the position. Are you ready?" She nodded her head vigorously, her eyes fixed on Lansing's, already in his sway. "I want you to take off your blouse and show me your tits. Do it now." "She started for a moment and her eyes met his, "Ah, sir, did you... I mean, you want me too. Ah well, yes, I suppose so..." she finished lamely, as Lansing glowered at her. Without further remonstrance, the girl immediately pulled the blouse out of the waistband of the skirt and lifted it over her head, rather than unbutton it. She looked at Lansing for his approval. "Ah, I see you are a customer already; the Big Gurlz full-cup range if I'm not mistaken. Stand up, Miss Porntip. That's right. Face me and shake your big titties gently from side to side. I need to see whether you will be the right sort of model for our design purposes. What size are your fat tits, Thainee? There was only a momentary hesitation again, and then she looked down again as she replied, almost in a whisper, "They are a 48 double E, sir... almost an F, my... err... breasts that is." There was the merest hint of pride in her tone. "I bought the set last week when I got the call from the employment agency. My mother thought I should. Your company is the only one specialising exclusively in the outsized woman." The girl was still shaking her considerable bust from side to side, licking her lips as if to punctuate her sentences. "I've always been big." She smiled again, somewhat more vacantly than before. Lansing's thought was that she was really under - deeply under, and not the sharpest tool in the shed. He decided to push out the barriers. "They're tits, Miss Porntip... much too big to deserve the inferior term breasts, or even bosom. Many would prefer udders, or milk bags, but you're not lactating, are you. Well, at least, not yet. Do you not agree?" There was the merest of nods. "Do your tits sag much when you take your bra off, Miss Porntip?" "Oh no, sir, my mother has big titties too, and they still don't sag at all. I inherited her genes, I guess." "That's very nice, Thainee, now, slip the shoulder straps of your bra off and pull the cups down. I want you to show me." The girl slipped the straps off her shoulders and peeled the lightly padded cups downwards to reveal a stunning pair of truly enormous breasts. The aureole were the size of saucers and a deep brown, gleaming in the overhead light like burnished walnut. Her nipples matched them, hardening quickly with the release of the encumbering bra cups into stubby pillars the size of one of Lansing's fingertip joints. "Very impressive, Miss Porntip, but another question: can you suck your own nipples?" "Oh yes, Mr. Lansing, sir," and she promptly lifted one huge teat towards her mouth with both hands and began to suck on the distended nipple. Inwardly, the girl was beginning to believe that she might just have exactly what this nice man, Mr. Lansing, might want in his new personal assistant. She so much wanted to please him, but the interview seemed to have taken an unforeseen and somewhat embarrassing turn. But then, it was `an important position', and exactly the kind of thing her mother had been agitating her to try for. Until this interview, she had never really possessed the necessary confidence, and it had been her mother's constant criticism and increasing use of derogatory terms that had driven her to apply to the agency to be taken onto their books. Even she had been surprised at the rapidity with which she had been offered a chance at a job. "That's perfect, Thainee. Now, lift your skirt up." The girl had to relinquish her support of the massive breast with one hand and reach down to hoist up the offending garment. "Good, the matching Big Gurlz full-panty with satin gusset and Lycra panels. Now, turn around. I want to see your bottom. We like to see a good ass here. We make a wide range of knickers, girdles, thongs and the more `specialist' underwear, of course, as you probably know. That's right, good. Oh yes, beautiful. Bend over and stick it out a bit, that's perfect. Could you just smack it a bit... slap the curves of your ass for me, Miss Porntip. Oh yes, that's excellent. The rounded globes of your very large buttocks jiggle delightfully. Now, turn towards me and please remove your skirt" "Ah, Mr. Lansing," the girl began, blushing a deep pink on her cheeks and an even deeper shade across the globes of her breasts, "I'm not sure that... Well..." "Not sure of what, Miss Porntip? Not sure of whether you want to reveal yourself to me, or not sure whether you actually want this position?" "Well... I didn't think that..." "Didn't think? Didn't think? Why, Miss Porntip, I am certainly not in the business of paying my employees to think. I need them to be biddable and do exactly what I tell them to do; is that perfectly clear?" The girl turned crimson at this and slowly pulled the bra cup back over her enormous breast, sliding the strap back over her shoulder as she considered, then, the suddenly compliant girl turned back to face Lansing, unzipped the short pencil skirt and let it fall to the floor. He noticed immediately that the gusset of her panties was already darkening with moisture, immediately beneath the mound of her pussy. "Miss Porntip, are you in some kind of difficulty. Do you want to use the bathroom at all?" The girl's hand immediately swung forwards to cover the satin-covered bulge of her soaking pudenda as she realised what had happened. "Oh, I'm so sorry Mr Lansing, I didn't mean to make my knickers wet. It's my... well... my... pussy. It leaks sometimes," she finished lamely, blushing fiercely across her face and heavy breasts. She looked suddenly to be on the verge of tears, and it had all been going so well. Now, her own body had let her down by dribbling juice into the gusset of her special new panties. "Miss Porntip, you must get used to refer to things using their proper terms around here, if you want to get on. You do not refer to that," he pointed an unwavering forefinger at her sex, "as a pussy ever again. It is a cunt, Miss Porntip. You have a cunt. Of course, we may refer to it sometimes as a slutbox, or a cum-dump, or even a fuckhole, but you may refer to that particular piece of your anatomy as a cunt for the time being. Do you understand?" He sounded as if he was being unnaturally patient with a small child. "But... but... I always thought that..." Thainee's lips quivered as she tried to turn her confused thoughts into words and she sounded to be on the verge of tears. "My mother said..." "I have absolutely no interest in what your mother thinks about the issue. Trust me, sluts have cunts, and I can smell yours, it's leaking into your panties, so you must be a slut. Hey, you're standing in an office with a man you've never met before and you've just stripped down to your slutty underwear and paraded your dripping sex in front of him. Ever done this kind of thing before, Miss Porntip? No, I didn't think so. Sluts find pleasure in letting their bosses do their thinking for them, as I'm sure you will agree." The girl hung her head for a moment, running over the reasoning that clever Mr. Lansing had just given her. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with his logic. In fact, it was flawless. "I'm sorry sir. I see what you mean." "No matter, Miss Porntip, I'll ignore the problem this time. I suppose it is only an interview. Take your hands away and let me see the damage" Thainee was in an agony of doubt. She quickly moved her hands behind her back and began fervently to hope that this `problem' had not ruined her chances of getting such an `important position'. Lansing gloated at the obvious doubts that now coursed through the mind of the girl. "Let's just see how serious the problem is, Miss Porntip. Would you mind massaging your fingers into your cunt through the front of the panties and see if there's more where that came from?" "More, sir?" "Yes, Miss Porntip. Put your fingers in the crotch of your panties and mash them into the crack of your smelly twat. I want to see if the garment can soak up the juices that might flow out of a healthy woman's vagina, as our research suggests: Quickly now." A note of annoyance had crept into his voice that was not lost on the half-naked girl, and she plunged the fingers of both hands into her crotch, massaging the gusset of the underwear into the cleft of her own sex. As her fingers made contact with the bud of her clitoris, she began to breathe deeply at first, and then moan softly. It just seemed perfectly appropriate to her that she become a test subject for Big Gurlz garments at the earliest opportunity. The fact that she was now masturbating at the whim of the man she already thought of as her employer hardly seemed to make sense enough to matter. "That's a good girl. Don't stop. I want to see how much of that nasty slime the gusset can take before it starts to dribble down your legs, but you mustn't cum until I say that you can. Is that clear?" Thainee merely moaned, her eyes fixed again on Lansing's face. He prodded at the intercom unit on his desk again. "Lizzie, send Dilly in here at once, and remind her to bring her camera. She's become such a ditz that she'll forget otherwise. Now, Miss Porntip," he replaced the phone in its cradle. "I'm beginning to believe that you have an exciting future with us here at Big Gurlz. I've asked my photographic assistant to come in and administer a simple screen test. You see, I think that we can extend your job description to include some actual modelling work. It's not easy to find professional models, and I really think that you might have what it takes, in looks as well as intelligence." `Yeah, right,' he gloated inwardly. "Please don't stop what you are doing, and stop drooling." A clear strand of drool had escaped from the corner of Thainee's mouth and dangled towards her left breast, as she continued to fumble at the gusset of her panties, two, three and then four of her fingers pushing the material into the maw of her cunt. Liquid was beginning to dribble slowly down the inside of her right leg. She raised her hand to wipe the drool from her lips and then pressed the glistening hand back into her pussy with a guttural moan. Her eyes were hooded with lust, but still fixed on Lansing's face. "While we wait, I'll ask you a few more questions. You seem to be an only child?" "Yes, Mr Lansing." "Tell me a little more about your mother. How old is she, for instance?" "She's nearly forty. She's shorter than me, but her tits and ass are the same size as mine [Ooooh]. Her waist is probably even thinner [Oh, oh, oh]. She works as a nurse in the radiography unit at the GH [Mmmmhh]. I don't think that she likes me very much, because she's always been very strict with me [ooofffh, ahhh]. Sometimes, she calls me a slut and a whore too and she thinks that I'm only going to get a job here if I wear a short skirt and a low cut blouse and flash my panties from time to time. But that isn't true, is it Mr Lansing?" "Which part, Miss Porntip?" Her fingers had begun to make distinctive squelching noises as they stabbed into her sex. "Well, the part about me needing to flash my legs and panties to get a job [Oooohhh, yesssss, oooooaar]." "No, Miss Porntip, not at all. After all, you are participating in a product test as part of your interview and are now preparing for a screen test. The fact that you are standing there in your bra and panties whipping your cunt-juices into a froth is all part of the exercise. Of course, the other part is true." "Oh, Mr Lansing, I don't think I..?" "Well, surely it's patently obvious to an intelligent and beautifully endowed young woman like yourself. As we've already established, you are a slut - and a rather naturally gifted one, if I may say so. Quite the sluttiest tramp I've come across in a long time. You have an excellent opportunity here, at Big Gurlz." "Yes Mr. Lansing, of course you can say so." she giggled, "Thank you so much." "You see, I knew that you'd understand completely, excellent! Exactly what I would expect from a smart young lady like you." The girl smiled through half-lidded eyes. She was so close to an orgasm now that the idea that she was masturbating in front of an attractive man was almost sending her over the top, but he'd told her she couldn't cum until he said so. There was a knock at the door behind her, but she didn't turn. She hadn't been told to do so. "Come in, Dilly. Set up over here. I want you to assist Miss Porntip through the audition. Stop that now, Miss Porntip." The woman that came into the office was tall and probably Caribbean, Thainee thought, as she walked past the masturbating girl without apparently noticing her and leaned across Lansing's desk to kiss him enthusiastically on the mouth. As she did so, a thin band of spandex material that might have been intended to function as a skirt, rode up and displayed her huge, round ass; a wisp of a thong neatly bisecting the black bud of her anus and disappearing between the puffy liquorice lips of a shaved pussy. When he broke the kiss with a sucking noise, Lansing waved in Thainee's general direction. "Miss Dilly, let me introduce you to my new personal assistant, Miss Porntip. She's agreed to a screen test, and, in fact, welcomes the opportunity to serve us in this way. Now," he jotted something rapidly onto a notepad and beckoned Thainee to approach the desk, "...I want you to read this when I signal you by pointing like this. Nothing else, just this, is that clear?" "Yes, Mr Lansing, I'll do my best." She moved forwards to stand beside the woman called Dilly and reached out a drizzled hand to take the sheet of paper, at the same time noticing that the black woman was very tall and had a musky aroma surrounding her that was very arousing. Thainee glanced quickly down at the woman's shoes and realised that she must have been wearing mules with at least a six inch heel and no platform. Her breasts were almost as big as the girl's, starting to quiver now in anticipation of the opportunity to prove her value to her new employer. Mr Lansing had referred to her as, `his new personal assistant', so, as long as she did a good job with this test, she seemed to have secured her `important position' at the first try. A warmth that was not all sexual began to pervade her chest. Thainee caught her breath when Dilly reached out both hands and seemed to weigh the slender girl's massive melons by cupping them under the cups of her bra and squeezing them upwards and together. "You have nice big titties, Miss Porntip. Very nice, indeed. Now," she suddenly seemed to switch from simple appreciation into a professional business mode, "The camera is on wide view, so it will be fine here on the desk to start with. Boss, will you switch it on when you want to?" Lansing nodded and sat back in his wing-chair. "Miss Porntip, I want you to imagine that you are a really slutty secretary that is admiring herself in an office mirror." She pointed at the camera, "This is the mirror. You will begin by smoothing your hands down over your tits and the cups of the bra like this." Dilly demonstrated by caressing her own breasts that threatened to burst out of a bikini top that hardly contained them. The woman's own nipples bulged beneath the black triangles of silk at the touch and began to push outwards. "Then, you will continue downwards until you reach the waistband of your panties. By this time, I want to hear you begin to get turned on with the feel of the garments, panting and moaning as your hands slide into that incredibly wet gusset. Then, you will slowly turn and bend forwards, away from the camera... yes, like that, and then I want you to put a palm on each of those enormous butt cheeks and slowly pull them apart. Start with your fingers nearly touching, in the crack. Excellent, now pull, good, and make sure you're looking back at the camera, smile, and then begin pissing in your panties." Thainee jerked upright and turned further around to look at her new boss, "You want me to piss into my panties?" There was an edge of panic. "I mean, she wants me to piss myself; on the floor, now?" "No, no. Not now, Miss Porntip. That would be a waste, wouldn't it? We don't want you to start pissing into your Big Gurlz panties until the camera is rolling." Lansing laughed at her as if explaining something to someone who had failed to see the joke. Thainee was feeling confused and not a little dizzy again. Dilly joined in the laughter. "I mean, you do want to go, don't you? Haven't you been wriggling around a bit, wanting to wee?" "Oh, yes, well I suppose so then. Yes, I suppose I have, really," the doubt in her voice was obvious. Lansing went on "And when you've quite emptied your bladder into the gusset of your new panties, and your piss has run down your legs and into your shoes, puddling around your feet, I want you to look right into the camera, smile as if to a lover, and say the lines on the paper. It's your `script'." Thainee looked at the note and read the words aloud: "'Big Gurlz fuller cut panties in nylon and spandex, with a porous slut-panel in the gusset that lets a Big-girl's cunt really gush with joy.' You really want me to say this?" Absolutely, Miss Porntip: word for word. But you must deliver the words with real feeling. We want you to sound like you are always peeing in your panties and really enjoy the sensation, but only in Big Gurlz panties. Can you do all that?" Thainee thought for a moment or two, her forehead creased with a perplexed frown, and then suddenly brightened, "I'll try my best, Mr. Lansing. Could I practice one more time, please?" She could, and she did, even adding some moans as if to accentuate the feelings of warm piss running into the crotch of her knickers and down her legs. When Dilly turned the camera on, Thainee was perfect. The camera moved in for a close-up as the trickles down her thighs turned into golden rivulets and then streams. The splash of liquid onto the plastic mat covering the carpet in the area of the interview chair seemed loud in the silence of the room, punctuated with the girl's moaning, and then she looked straight into the camera with a swing of her huge tits, and hit the tagline spot on. Well, I think that you've interviewed very well, Miss Thainee. You're a natural. Complete slut. Probably one of the most instinctive fuck-sluts I've ever had the pleasure of interviewing. Alright, slut, pull your skirt down over your humungous ass and take a seat again; there are a number of minor items that we should sort out before I can offer you the job." "Oh sir," the girl's lipstick was smudged and the residue had made crescent-shaped blurs on both breasts above and below the enormous nipples. She actually made a squelching noise as she sat down on the chair. The girl glanced quickly at the `Art Director', but the woman had lost interest and was carefully examining her long red fingernails. "Does this mean that I'm going to get the job?" "Well, Miss Thainee, there are a number of special requirements that I'm sure you will understand the need for. To start with, there's the length of your skirts to consider." Thainee looked momentarily confused. "Sir? You mean they're too short?" "No girl, I mean the exact opposite. They are far too long. I want the hem of all your skirts and work-day dresses to come exactly level with your slutty cunt. Do you understand? "But sir, I... I mean that... This is my first job and I'm sure that my mother can't afford to buy me a lot of new clothes. "Oh, don't worry about that, Thainee. The firm has a deal with certain, shall we say, `specialist' retail outlets in the town. All part of being in this wonderful business. Speak to Miss Lizzy on your way out and she'll get you fixed up. I've no doubt that we'll be docking the costs from your pay. Will that be alright?" It was another, final test. He watched her face carefully. She smiled. "Oh yes, Mr. Lansing... boss... Whatever you say." "Excellent, just ask Lizzie any other questions that you have. She'll have some things for you to fill in, and she'll be giving you some training materials that you are to take home with you. `Howework', if you like. I want you to make sure that your mother listens to them too. There's a lot of music and rhythmic background stuff that I'm sure she'll find relaxing. Maybe your mother won't be quite so hard on you, eh? Particularly as you have been successful in getting this really important position." "Oh, thank you sir. I'll do everything you ask... everything. Mum will be really pleased, I just know it. Oh thank you, thank you." Tears were beginning to streak the cheeks on either side. Lansing moved around to the front of the desk, carefully avoiding the puddles of urine and the moist footprints linking the interview chair with the front of his desk like a shiny chain, and reached out his hand. "Congratulations, Miss Porntip. You have an exciting future ahead of you with Big Gurlz. I'll expect to see you next week then. Sort everything out with Miss Lizzie, and remember to phone in every day for your intermediary programme of instructions." She took his hand and looked unbidden into the man's eyes. His gave was lazer-intense. "Intermediary prrr... instructions, boss?" "Absolutely, Miss Porntip. Important to keep in the picture at every moment of every day." "Yes, sir, Mr. Lansing sir." After he'd cut short the leave-taking with a cursory `Off you go now' and watched the girl leave the office, the wet patch on her considerable rump plain for all to see and her breasts noticeably wider than her upper body from the back, he turned to Dilly and gave her a pressing instruction. "Dilly, get your slut ass over here, lie down in this warm piss and roll around until you are completely soaked. I want to fuck that highly impressionable trollop's piss into your fat arse." He swung the chair away from the puddles. "Yes sir. Whatever you say, Mr. Lansing." Her heels clicked briefly on the floor, she grunted ever-so softly as she lowered herself off the heels to her hands and knees, and then she lowered the rack of her tit-meat into the tepid piss. "Oooh sir, it smells lovely." She heard the sound of a zipper as she rolled onto her back and felt the warmth soaking into her clothing and hair. "I smell like a whore..." -----*****---- 2. Mom has all the right qualifications "Sir, there's a woman to see you. Seems quite upset. I think she's the mother of that new girl, Porny-something. Do you want me to send her in, boss?" Lansing had been expecting this and made the decision with no qualms at all. "Yes, Lizzie, send her in straight away, and send for Miss Porntip too. I think she's probably with Dilly in the studio. Show the girl through as soon as she arrives.She needs to be here. And get coffee: the ground Arabica, not that granulated shit." "Yes boss, immediately." As Lansing dropped the phone back onto the cradle, he heard a scrap of Lizzie's, "You can go through now, Ms... " and cleared his throat in anticipation. The woman that entered the office was much like her daughter, but the word `buxom' came instantly into Lansing's mind. She was wearing a three-quarter length gaberdine raincoat that was buttoned to the neck and bulged above and below a belt that cinched tightly at the waist. Long black waves of glossy hair cascaded onto her coated bosom and down to the small of her back. Beneath the hem of the coat, very sheer black silk stockings with an even darker herringbone pattern sheathed the woman's legs all the way down to the steel-heeled stilettos that buckled at the front with four broad straps, the uppermost two encircling her foot both above and beneath the ankle. Lansing paid particular attention to the woman's legs and exhaled with a puff when he saw the stockings and heels. She looked angry, flushed and irrascible. Lansing had already risen from behind his desk and stepped forwards with his hand outstretched, a beaming smile on his face. He spoke first. It was very important that he speak first. He caught the woman off-guard, open-mouthed, and she took his hand, looking at first into his face, and then away. "Ah, you must be Mrs. Porntip. The mother of our newest recruit. It's easy to see where our Thainee gets her looks. Take a chair." He gestured to a sofa and armchair set in black hide that sat against the wall under the window, ushering her into one of the large overstuffed singles that bracketed a low teak coffee table, "Please, dear lady, sit here." As the woman sank into the comforting embrace of the leather, she dimly realised the fact that because the man had remained standing, he had put her at a real disadvantage, particularly as she'd come to his office with the express intent of, " that boss of yours a piece of my mind!" As she pushed herself forwards onto the edge of the chair, her coat rucked up under her shuffling bottom and Lansing thought he could see the lower edges of the blacker tops of the woman's stockings between her thighs. "Now, Mrs. Porntip, ah, it sounds so formal. My name's David, and may I call you...?" "Well, I suppose... my given name is Ferrelee. But most people call me Free." "Ay yes, excellent. Well Free, how can I be of service to you. No problems I hope?" She pushed herself forwards on the armchair again. "Well, Mr. Lansing..." "David, please." "David..." for a fleeting moment the woman's eyes lost their focus, but then she made a little coughing sound in her throat and began again. "Look, David, it's like this. My daughter has been working here less than two weeks and already her behaviour has gone from bad to worse. She dresses like a tramp, a prostitute, Mr. Lansing..." "David. Call me David." "Yes, David, well she dresses like a slut. Blouses that are virtually non-existant, and these disgusting `boob-tubes' that cling like skin. Her skirts don't even cover her bottom anymore, and people standing in front of her can see, well, everything. She's wearing underwear that's almost obscene. Tiny little panties that don't even cover her... (ahem) don't even cover her..." "Her pussy, Ferrelee? Her crotch? Her pissy little cunt?" "Mr. Lansing," the woman spluttered. "How dare you..." She made a move to stand, and Lansing let her pull herself back onto the spiked heels and watched her literally `gird her loins', pulling the coat tight under her very large breasts and starting to wave her finger under Lansing's nose. "How dare you. Do you think that you can turn my daughter into some kind of slut, just because she's a bit slower than some girls her age? Do you really think..." "Of course I think, Mrs. Ferrelee Porntip. Of course I think. And how dare you, madam... how dare you come into my office and make these preposterous claims. Your daughter is a grown woman, Mrs. Porntip, and perfectly capable of making her own decisions. She is becoming a highly valued member of our staff here at head office. I can see her going far in this business, but not, NOT! Mrs. Porntip, if her mother keeps coming here to complain about the rules and conditions of her employment and making these rank and baseless allegations." "But, Mmmmist..." "No `buts', madam. You are endangering the future of your own daughter because you - YOU, can't appreciate the sacrifices that she is willing to make to earn her part in this challenging industry. SO, she has discovered a new sense of her own image and wants to wear the same kind of outfits that her co-workers feel comfortable in - so what? You must learn to move with the times, Free. At some point, you have to let your daughter make choices for herself. Now is that time." The woman's face lost its brash ebullience and crumbled into sorrow, "But Mr. Lansing, she has to ride on the bus, and everybody can see what she's got on underneath. They laugh at her; poke fun and call her names. Why, they try to touch her; press themselves against her and whisper all sorts of suggestive notions into the poor girl's ears." Lansing leaned forwards to bring his face very close to the woman's. "A very attractive girl, attractively dressed, on a bus with other members of our nation's gallant workforce, and you are surprised that people want to get to know her. Well, Free, if that's the best you can come up with..." "But, Mr. Lansing..." His voice went up a notch in volume and the tone suddenly developed an edge like a piece of broken glass. "Mz. Ferrelee, I said no more `buts', and do not shake your finger at me again. You come into my office, endangering the position of your own daughter in her new job. You come up with wild claims about the changes in behaviour that are naturally a part of this `right of passage' into adulthood and independence, and you scorn the very garments that she wears. Garments, Mrs. Porntip, that are the product of the very company in who's offices you now stand." "Oh, David, Mr Lansing, I didn't mean to..." Doubt etched into the corners of her eyes for the first time. "Yes, Mrs. Porntip, that is exactly what you `meant' to do. Our garments are our pride, Mrs. Porntip. Big Gurlz is at the cutting edge of the lingerie industry, and Thainee wants to be a part of that. You should be proud that your daughter is inspired to wear our garments, madam. Proud!" "Oh, well, I, I, I... am very happy..." He interrupted her again. "Well, you don't show it, Madam Porntip. You don't seem very happy at all - and now I am most unhappy. I am very unhappy that you see fit to importune the garments that we produce." "Oh. No, Mr Lansing, David. I didn't mean..." At that precise moment, there was a discrete knock on the door and a voice said, "Coffee, sir?" Lansing turned to the woman, who was beginning to show real signs of confusion. "Free, go and get the tray from Ms. Lizzie and put it down over here," he ordered. She glanced up at him, and the glaze passed behind her eyes again. "Yes, Mr. Lansing, of course." Lansing watched the shapely hour-glass of her back as she sashayed across to the door with a calculating smile brushing his mouth. As she submissively returned with the tray, her eyes were fixed on his, and as she bent to put it down, the coat rode up over her hips again, tempting Lansing to bend over behind her and look upwards at her ass. He suppressed the desire. `Plenty of time,' he mused. Free Porntip half turned in expectation of another instruction. Perhaps `Pour the coffee', or `Help yourself, Mrs. Porntip', but Lansing caught her off guard again. The dangerously slicing edge was back in his voice. "Why don't you want your daughter to wear our products, Mrs. Porntip? Surely, you'll agree that she is the kind of girl that is very much in need of them, given her voluptous figure? She has inherited all of your genetic gifts. What kind of lingerie do you wear, Free? What kind of thing do you wear closest to the most intimate parts of your own plus-sized tits and ass?" She sounded shocked again, "Mr. Lansing, I do object to the... terms you use sometimes. Some of your language seems quite... earthy." "Free, let me ask you, what would you call these?" He reached out and cupped her right breast through the coat, just at the end, where the apparent bulge of a enormous capping nipple showed through the material. "This is a purely professional question, from one reasonable person to another." The dithering woman looked down, surprised, but did nothing to push his hand away or move. "Why... Mr. Lansing. That is my breast. I suppose another word might be `bosom'." Lansing began to squeeze softly, feeling the kind of firmness that he would have expected in a much younger, much less well-endowed woman. "Times have changed and they appear to have left you behind, Free. Nobody calls these `breasts' anymore. Haven't for years. These are tits, Ferrelee. Big fucking jugs, not breasts. Chickens have breasts, Mrs. Porntip. Women like you have tits, but we can be even more accurately descriptive of yours, Free. These are big, fat cow's udders, heavy swingers, huge hangers. Do you follow me?" His other hand was now kneading at the massive mammary on the other side as well. "Yee-es, Mr. Lansing. I understand you, but women of my age were born into a..." "Free, women of your age were born with fucking huge tits like these so that you can serve a man in whatever way he wants you to serve him..." "But Mr. Lansing..." she started to pull back, but the coffee table was at the backs of her calves. "I... I..." Suddenly and explosively, he slapped her very hard across the cheek, rocking her head violently to one side. She staggered, one hand to her mouth. "Ferrelee Porntip, you will stop that snivelling and do exactly what I say. Am I being perfectly clear?" Holding her face in both hands now, the woman muled, tears coursing down her face; mascara running in lace-edged runnels. She couldn't take her eyes off his. She blubbered like a child. He grasped the lapels of her coat and pulled her towards him. She found herself sniveling beneath the commanding gaze of unblinking eyes. "Am I being perfectly clear?" There was an eternity of pause - a river of time slipping by in her head while she fell into the black pools at the bottom of his eyes. After long moments, a stammering, "Yee-ees sir... yes... perfectly clear." At a precisely determined moment, he broke eye contact with the subdued woman and turned to plump down into the armchair that she'd so recently vacated. "Pour me a coffee. Black,; two sugars." It was another order... another step in the forced submission of the vulnerable mother. As she bent to comply, still sobbing and sniffling. The man leaned forwards and raised the hem of the coat, near the vent-slit in the back, so that he could see what she was wearing under it. "Ah, I thought so. The Big Gurlz full-cut girdle panty with lycra support panels and our patented `breathing skin' gusset. I am impressed, Porntip. And I'd thought that you didn't like our products. How uninformed I can be." He reached with the other hand and caressed the bulging curves of her buttocks, right above her poop-hole. She shuddered under his touch, but again, couldn't muster the will to pull away. "Yes indeed, very nice. You have a very large, firm and well-rounded bottom, Mrs. Porntip; very large indeed. Yours must be fifty at the hips - maybe more?. You keep in shape. That's wonderful." His fingers were probing the fleshy lips of her vagina through the `breathable' material of the gusset. "Are they comfortable? Come on, give me a field report." She sniffed and caught her breath long enough to respond. "Yes sir, Mr. Lansing. They are very comfortable." "Did your daughter lend you bra and panties, or did you buy a set of our lingerie especially for today?" She handed him the cup of coffee. "I... I... I bought them especially for today. I don't know why... but..." "That's nice, Free. You came here to complain to your daughter's boss about her behaviour and working conditions, but you got dressed up to do it in the very products she is now involved in marketing." He sipped appreciatively at the dark liquid, then sighed, "And you are not wearing a skirt under the coat, are you, Free? You aren't wearing a blouse either, are you?" Her confusion, now spiralling out of control, painted swathes of pain across her brows and eyes. "I'm not wearing..." It was a statement, not a question. "I'm not wearing anything uder my coat, Mr. Lansing, no... I'm not." She'd stopped crying now and was staing at the seated man with incredulity, but incredulity at herself, not him. He put the coffee cup and saucer down on the table with a clinking sound, then stood abruptly, making the statuesque woman take a step back. Striding over to his desk, Lansing snatched up the phone and pressed a button. A red light blinked on. "Lizzie, I'm going to be conducting an interview for the next hour or so. I don't want to be disturbed. Usual procedure. What's that...? Oh, is she? Well, show her in and put Dilly on alert. We might need some recording assistance later on. Oh, and pass Thainee the plastic sheet. I think we're definitely going to need it. Yes, good." He turned back to the woman, the misery of her submission writ plain on her face.' Time to throw her another curve ball,' Lansing mused to himself. `Time to push her to the edge and wait for her to choose to fall'. Mrs. Porntip, dressed as you are, you must have come here with other intentions today, isn't that right? I believe that you've been wondering what it might be like to work for this company, correct? I think that you might have dressed in clothes that you felt would be suitable for that particular outcome - have I seen through the camouflage, Free?" It was always amazing to Lansing to witness the impact of the command words sketch themselvs into the facial features of a really vulnerable subject; as subtle as an airborne virus. I want you to come and stand here, in front of my desk. That's right, there. Now, I'm going to give you an interview for the job that you have applied for." "Job?" There was a discrete knock and Lizzie showed Thainee into the office, a long roll of clear plastic sheeting flopping and bobbing in one hand. "Mr. Lansing, you wanted to see me?" and then, "Mom! What are you doing here?" The budding slut was dressed very much in the manner that had so disgusted her own mother; a pink spandex boob-tube stretched like paint across the mounds of her incredible tits, advertising the obvious lack of a bra, not least because the tube wasn't long enough to span more than eight or nine inches of her mammary meat, and consequently, revealed the girl's cleavage all the way to the upper cusps of her nipple-mounds, while the lower half-spheres of her underbust swung naked below the hem of the overburdened garment. Her skirt was a similar band of black spandex, stretched so thin over the globes of her ass that it became virtually transparent, revealing the multiple straps of the black garter-belt beneath, cutting into her nubile flesh. Sheer charcoal-coloured stockings were attached to the straps by means of large shiny metal clips and a pair of red patent-leather platforms with eight-inch heels completed the whorish ensemble. Before the mother could react, Lansing hit her mind with another psychological hammer-blow. "Good question, Miss Porntip. What exactly ARE you doing here, Free? Perhaps you'd like to explain to your daughter?" The waves of confusion battered at the walls of the woman's will, cascading now, weakening, riven. Her daughter stood apart from her, frowning. "Well, I'm... I'm here... to... I've come here to... interview. I'm applying for a job. Yes, you seem so happy here, Mum thought she'd try it out for herself. Mr. Lansing is just going to interview me. Yes..." Lansing drove the point of the spear deeper into the woman's psyche, "Ah yes, so it doesn't have anything to do with the way your daughter has been dressing to come to work then. Don't you think that she looks nice? The perfect image of a personal assistant? Well, Porntip, tell me. Tell your daughter she looks nice." "Yes, sir... I think my daughter looks very nice... I think she looks perfect." "Thank you, Mrs. Porntip. That was very good; so nice of you to compliment your daughter on looking like a perfect slut. I totally agree. Do you like looking like a slut, Thainee?" "Oh yes boss... ah, Mr. Lansing. It's in my job description, I guess, but I feel good dressed like this. Sort of... what's the word... liberal." "Liberated, Thainee. You mean `liberated'. He turned back to the mother. "Why don't you take off that silly coat, Mrs. Porntip, and show your daughter what you wore for your interview. Quickly now, it must be getting very warm for you in here. Take off the coat, Free! Don't you want to start your interview now?" The woman's hands moved to her coat buttons of their own volition. She pushed the coat back off her shoulders and the action thrust the her huge tits forwards through the lapels like beachballs emerging from a sack. She stood undecided, wondering whether to drop the coat, or hang onto it, and looked towards her daughter for a clue. Thainee had caught her breath in shock and raised her hands to cover her mouth lest an inappropriate word or two come tumbling out. "Very nice, Mrs. Porntip. The complete Big Gurlz lactating mothers' set, in `passion pink'. I must say, it is gratifying to see the fruits of our labours dressing the beauties for whom they were created. Thainee, take your mother's coat and then the two of you can spread the sheet over the carpet. We'll need it for the next phase of the interview. Quickly now, that's right." Once the sheet lay over the cheap shag carpet like a sheen of lubricant and Thainee had positioned the plain metal chair in the middle of the expanse, Lansing ordered the junoesque figure of the mother to stand in front of it and the daughter to stand at the side of his desk to watch her mother's interview unfold and bear witness to the degradations to come. Lansing licked his lips again in anticipation. "Sit down, Mrs. Porntip." The woman sank gratefully onto the chair, her whole being a torn mess of emotions and indescribable new feelings. Lansing saw her bottom overlapping the seat, curving down on either side. "Of course, there are a few questions. Dear lady, just for my records, what are your vital statistics?" He picked up a pen and pulled a clipboard across the blotter. "Tell me how big your titties, your waist and your fat ass are?" Ferrelee shifted uncomfortably on the seat. "Well, Mr. Lansing, I..." The woman cast a guilty glance at her daugher, but answered - as instructed. "My measurements are 36EE-24-50. I'm wearing the 48-series panty. That's why it's a bit tight," she added, feeling the need to explain and shifting her weight from one buttock to another again. "You seem uncomfortable, Mr's Porntip. Are you uncomfortable, sitting in my office in front of a strange man in your underwear and stockings, watched by your own slut of a daughter? Are you in some discomfort?" "Well... no... not really. I..." He immediately interrupted her again, disturbing the woman's unconcious effort to re-establish a sense of equilibrium. "Well, you seem distinctly uncomfortable, doesn't she, Thainee?" "Yes, sir. I guess so." "And why have you chosen to wear an item from our range especially designed for lactating mothers, Mrs. Porntip? Are you lactating? Are those fat titties of your making milk, madam?" The hesitation was back, her mind a cauldron of conflicting ideas - nothing she could grasp with any certainty, just the ghosts of butterfly wings... "No, I'm... I'm not, that is to say, my fat titties aren't making milk, sir. I have these very bulbous nipples, you see; very big, and I wanted a bra that would be comfortable. The extra room is..." Once more, he broke the chain of her thoughts, "Mrs. Porntip, you won't mind if I ask you a personal question?" Inside Free's head, the question didn't make any rational sense. "I guess not. In interv-uuh..." "Precisely. Well, do you feel a pressing urge to go to the toilet? Do you need to piss, Mrs. Porntip, or perhaps take a big dump?" The woman looked at her daughter once more. "Well, I... now that you mention it. I suppose I do." Lansing smiled: the cat that got the canary. You could almost see the yellow tail-feathers sticking out of the corner of his mouth just below the dimple. "Exactly how long has it been since you last went to the toilet, Mrs. Porntip, for either?" The glance again. "Well, sir, I haven't been able to go since the weekend, although I did pee yesterday. I suppose..." "Yes, yes. Did you listen to one of the training CDs over the weekend? Did you listen together with your daughter?" "Why yes, Mr. Lansing." The question was similarly mystifying. She kept feeling as if her thoughts were on the brink of an idea; a very important idea, but the strange questions that this man kept asking her - at the oddest moments, seemed to make the important idea seem less important, somehow. And he did seem like a rather nice man, actually. A man that seemed to want to listen. "We listened to one on Saturday, Thainee and I." "Excellent. I'm very glad to hear it." "Why, thank you sir," she simpered, at the same time as she shuffled her bottom on the hard seat again. Yes, excellent. Now..." his manner became a fraction brisker, "your daughter here has been very helpful to us by getting involved, perhaps `engaged' would be a better word, in product testing as part of our marketing strategies. I'm sure that you are of a similar mind, Mrs. Porntip. We like to field test all of our products on an on-going basis, and as you are already wearing items drawn from one of our most popular ranges, I'm sure you wouldn't mind helping us with a little product test right now. After all, when better than during your interview, eh?" Thainee's hands made a ball in the shadows beneath the swinging bulges of her underbreasts in a sudden excited anticipation of her mother's response. Her mother appeared to consider the request, but only momentarily. "Why no, Mr. Lansing, I don't think that I'd mind at all." Her response was bright, but it came out of a face that was anything but; in fact, `vacant' would have better described it. "What do I have to do?" "Nothing difficult. Just stand up in front of the chair, turn with your back to us and piss into the gusset of your Big Gurlz panties." He handed the clipboard to the girl. "Your daughter will take the necessary notes. We must capitalise on every product testing opportunity, as I'm sure you'll agree. Now, stand up and turn around. That's perfect. Now, bend over and hold onto the chair for support. Excellent, now begin pissing in your panties, Mrs. Porntip, but please describe what you are feeling. It's a very critical part of the research process." The now submissive woman's posterior ballooned into the pink lycra, stretching the material almost to bursting point. "You want me to talk about my feelings - as I pee, or from now.?" "From now, if you please." The woman began haltingly, but quickly gained in confidence, particularly as the muscles in her groin began to relax. The task of holding back the flow of her bodily wastes had been an increasingly difficult one. "Well... I feel kind of bloated. My stomach has been painful inside for the last couple of days, but I've been so thirsty that I didn't think to stop drinking. I feel... I feel very full, very full. Actually, I'm dying to go. Deperate, really. Talking about it now is making it worse. There, I'm trying to relax." She exhaled and inhaled slowly, with blowing whooshes. Thainee was scribbling notes onto the pad. Lansing wondered what the slutty airhead could ever be writing down. "I guess I haven't pissed in my panties since I was a little There, it's working..." The bending woman farted twice: rapid little pistol-shot farts. "Oh, pardon me. I never fart usually... There, it's coming. Ooooohh, it's coming. I can't..." A small oval of moisture blossomed suddenly on the crotch of the pink knickers, then began to drip, then tea-coloured urine dribbled and then gushed from the panties. Gamely, the woman gasped out a few more breathy utterances. The flow increased if anything, splashes of liquid curtaining from the mound of her sex and streaming down her legs in silky runnels. "Oh... Ooooohhh. It's warm-mmmnnnnh. So warm. God, I'm full. I'm sorry, Mr. Lansing. Got to... Ahhhh. Burning... Feels so good on my pussy..." Lansing. mesmerised by the flow of urine gushing from the woman's crotch, corrected her automatically, "It's called a cunt, Mrs. Porntip. Call it a cunt. Delete the word `pussy' from your notes, girl." Thainee just nodded, unable to take her eyes away from the spectacle of her mother's self-defilement. "Yes sir, it... it feels so warm on my cunt... warm... warm... Oooooohhh." The piss issuing from the cow was at last beginning to decrease. The two at the desk watched as it dribbled to a stop, continuing to drip from the wetness spreading upwards into the material of the panties. She was panting. She looked back, around the huge curve of one breast: offers of reassurance for a task well-done. "That was excellent, Free, excellent. But I'm afraid you haven't quite finished, have you? You see, it's important that the test is completed so that we can gain the maximum amount of data. And besides, you really do want to take a shit now, don't you?" She was still panting, then, "Ooooohhh-yes, sir. I really should go to the toilet now..." "Well, that would rather defeat the purpose of the exercise, wouldn't it, Mrs. Porntip - and things are going so well. Don't you agree, Thainee? Isn't your mother doing well? She stammered, "Yes sir. Yes, mom, you're doing really well. There was really a lot of your pee. It was..." "Yes, Thainee, we know what it was. Alright, Free, I want you to stand up a bit straighter, but stick your rump out as much as you can. That's good... Now, I want you to begin to take a dump, but push the material out as slowly as you can. No need to rush, is there?" "But sir, do you really want me to shit on the floor? Do you..." "Miss Free, I don't want you to shit on the floor, as you put it. I want you to fill your Big Gurlz panties. I am not asking you to do anything that you don't want to do, now am I? I just want this perfectly normal product test to go on to its natural conclusion. We all want that, don't we Thainee? Don't you think that your mother should shit into her panties as part of the testing programme?" "Well, I suppose, if it's part of the programme, you should do it mom. Your big ass does look so... delectable in those wet panties. I think you should definitely shit in them, yes." The smile she turned on Lansing was pure innocence. "I couldn't have put it better myself. Well, Free, you heard your daughter. Now spread your legs a little and let's get on with the test." The woman seemed to shrug her shoulders slightly, then do as she was being told, kicking her squelching stilettos to each side and bracing herself again by gripping the metal back of the chair. "Do you want me to talk about this too, sir?" "Yes, absolutely. What a good idea, Mrs. Porntip. I can see you're going to make an exemplary employee." The girl at his side seemed to be holding her breath, the clipboard forgotten, redundant. "I guess... I think that this is going to be a lot easier, sir, It's painful. Painful in my belly. I can feel it pressing downwards now. I can't stop it. Couldn't, ah... stop it anyway." There was another blattering fart, "Oh, I'm so sorry. Pardon me... Ooooohh, it's coming. It's coming out of my hole. Oh Jeeze, it's huge. My asshole is stretching, but it still can't come out... stretching... Oooooggghhh. Toooooo looong! Ooooooghhh." The woman began to cry, tears runneling down her flushed cheeks. Lansing wondered whether she was referring to the length of the turd, or the time since the slut had take a shit. "Your asshole can't tear, Free," he lied, just relax and push down. Sometimes, I guess it can be a bit like childbirth - and you obviously know what that feels like." "Yeeeeessss, but she didn't come out of my... Ooooooggghh... assssss. Oh fuck,... my asshole. I can't..." More loud farts. At the same time as the earthy smell of her bowels permeated the atmosphere inside the room, the audience of two saw the back of the wet panties begin to bulge obscenely as a simply enormous turd began to force itself out between the cheeks of the woman's big ass. The wet material quickly stained brown, like dark chocolate, with the pressing turd. As her mother began to moan and grunt, her commentary forgotten for the moment, Thainee offered some words of encouragement. Oh mummy, you're doing so well. It's very big. Like a giant mushroom. Push, mummy, that's right. Push!" There was more grunting. Lansing could see the sweat and tears running down the side of Free's cheek. "I... can't... it's too... big. Can't get it out... too hard." Lansing intervened. He knew that, under the influence of the audio discs, the two women had been eating all the kinds of foods that would guarantee their stools became wooden-hard. The slut was never going to birth it if she didn't get help. "Thainee, help your mother. Grab the seams of the panties on either side of your mother's panties, on either side of the bulge. Yes, that's it. Now, pull slowly and stretch the material away from your mother's ass so that she has a little room." Quickly, girl." Lansing also moved out from behind the desk, revealing an enormous bulge of his own. The front of his trousers were concealing a tent-pole. As the girl pulled on the seams, the grunts of pain turned into groans of relief. The smell was incredible. "Thainee, when I tell you too, I want you to slowly relax your grip on your mother's panties and relieve the stretch in the butt-panel." "But boss, that would..." "Just do as you're told, Thainee." "Yes sir. As you say." Lansing watched intently, unconciously moving closer until he could see the gripping fists of the slut and the truly humungous turd sliding slowly out of the woman's ass. The drag on the material was letting the log emerge, but it was pulling the knickers away from the woman's globular buttocks and creasing cruelly down around the woman's hips. Lansing coud see the turd now, Free's asshole stretched as thin as a rubber band. It was already ten inches long and as big around as a chianti bottle. It emerged with a speed of its own choosing. When twelve inches had grown into the tensile gusset of the panties, it began to narrow at the emerging base, and seemed about to disengage. "Alright now, Thainee. Let the panties relax back. Slowly now. Slowly, slowly..." As the squatting girl complied, the end of the log mushrooming into the gusset first spread slightly, forming a cap, and then it began to reverse direction, this time, forcing itself back into the woman's bowels and taking the abused band of her anus with it. She screamed. "Don't stop, stupid girl! That's better. Force the thing back into the slut and let's see how Big Gurlz really stands up to the punishment. Thainee dropped cautiously to her knees, the better to control the alternating tension and relaxation of the crotch-panel of the sodden panties. As the ingress of the monster slowed, she even placed a palm over the bulging gusset and began to push it back into her mother's asshole. Free was rigid with pain. The turd now reinvading her body was making her feel giddy. She felt physically sick, and then thought that if she relaxed and let the turd have its way with her asshole, she might not actually throw up. The effort was exhausting, but as the tension in her belly and bowels drained away, she could feel the stiff column of the invader begin to work its way back in. She amazed herself by feeling the beginnings of an unfamiliar sexual excitement building in her lower body. `Can getting fucked with my own shit really be turning me on?' she wondered, and then felt the first glimmerings of a new fear... She was!. Under explicit instruction from her boss, Thainee slowly fucked the huge, dark turd in and out of her mother's bottom. As the ingress of the log began to build up a smear of foul gravy on the buttocks and in the crack of her mother's ass, the log started to slide more easily and the grunting became more rhythmic and less pained. Thainee was not in any way disgusted; not in any way scandalised with the fact that she was buggering her own mother with her own huge stool. In fact, the girl was entranced. "Ooooh Mom, you look so sexy." Thainee was already wishing for the same thing to happen to her and the pressure she could feel building in her own belly was poking the fires of her imagination. "Ooooohhhh mommy. Can you feel that? Does it feel good to have your hot shit fucking up your ass?" Lansing had his cock out by this time and was patting Thainee on the back of her head with it, keeping in time with the slowly pistoning turd. "That's enough, Thainee. Pull back again, and when the turd breaks off, reach in and lift it out. Otherwise, there won't be any room for your mother to shit out the next one. Place it between her heels." The girl did exactly that. "Now hold the panties open so that we can see." As he spoke, another, thinner turd began to push out the bud of the woman's anus. As the abused orifice expanded, it became apparent that this turd was slimmer, but still the same circumference as a soda can. Open mouthed, the two of them watched as the very hard turd broke off at ten inches. Then the grunting woman, pushing down into the depths of her gut expelled another, just as big, then a fourth. The panties were beginning to look like a shopping bag full of brown cucumbers. "Thainee, you'll have to make some room. Pull your mother's panties down to her thighs, but be careful that the logs don't fall through the gaps. That's good. Something to be said for wearing a panty a size too small, eh? Alright... Mrs. Porntip, move your legs wider apart." The still heaving woman dutifully obeyed., separating the chrome-plated heels of her stilettos by more than four feet. "That's a good girl." As he said this, the intensity of the growing tension in Free's groin racked up a notch, but she just moaned. Words had become strangely superfluous. "Alright now, Thainee, pick one of those up and push it up... up into your mother's cunt. It should still be nice and wet, and those babies seem to be coming out wth a lube all of their own." Thainee hesitated, then turned her head sideways to look up at Lansing, but came face to face with ten inches of thick, pulsing cock. "Oooh, Mr. Lansing, that's... a big... thingy" "Get on with it, Thainee." He pushed her back around. "Yes, that one. The end is nicely tapered. That's right, push gently." Ferrelee Porntip, lost in a sexual miasma of orgiastic bliss, merely bent at the knees and tried to spread her thighs to accommodate just one more new sensation. Thainee fucked the turd into her mother's cunt, slowly at first, and then pushing it up inside until it had disappeared between the fleshy lips of her mother's fuck-hole. She was surprised at how easily the ten inches of hard chocolate log had been enveloped. Lansing had noticed that the shitting slut hadn't straightened again out of the hunkered spread. "Take another one, dear. Yes, that one. Nice colour, isn't it? Now, fuck that up your slut-mother's cunt behind the other one." Free strained suddenly as an anal cramp hit her and yet another huge log pushed to open the lens of her anal ring. This was as big as the one now lying on the floor, and Thainee pulled the waistband of her mother's knickers backwards to open up the turd-bag a bit wider. It was making her mother groan again, and no wonder. This one seemed to be formed of many smaller turds compressed together, because the shaft of shit comprised a mass of bumps and deep crenellations. At each grunt, the turd advanced in tiny increments of agonised straining. With no sign of an immediate detachment, Thainee reached back into the turd-sack and selected another stiff one. As she fed the stinking phalus of shit into her mother's gravy-dripping quim, she could feel it prod into the stem of the previous one, lodged just inside the vaginal cleft, and so worked it to one side until it began to slide upwards. As she felt her daughter force the shit-cock in alongside the first, Free Porntip's face contorted into a mask of intense pleasure, and then ferocity, as she clenched the muscles in her bowels and pushed hard on the log in her butt-hole. The huge turd came out with a rush, falling into the sagging material of the panties and bouncing. It was followed by an exhalation of gas that sounded more like a sigh than a fart, so much had the woman's anal ring been over-extended. The cloud blew straight into her daughters face. "Oooh mummy, you dirty slut. You smell like a farmyard." The girl was on her knees, the waistband of her mother's piss-stained panties in her hand and flecks of shit-gravy on her other hand, smiling like a drunk. Lansing was in such a state of high excitement that he had to stop wanking his hand the length of his cock-shaft because an orgasm was so close. `Steady lad,' he said to himself, steady'. He pulled himself together and recommenced giving the kneeling butt-supplicant the necessary instructions. "Now Thainee, she doesn't look as if she's going to do anymore. We need to test the carrying capacity of the garment now, so pick that big one up and position it right back where it just came from, back into your mother's asshole. Oh look, it's still steaming. Then you must work her panties back on and let the elasticity in the gusset push the log back into her ass. Do you understand?" "Yes sir," the grinning girl replied, and then, what about this one?" She was gesturing towards the one on the floor, "...this one's getting cold." "No, leave that for the time being. We have other items to test," Lansing said. "Almost done, mum. The test is going really well." Answering grunts and a drawn-out moan. Thainee offered up the slightly more rounded end of the massive piece of shit to press it against the distended pout of her mother's anus: the narrow mouth of a small tunnel that disappeared into the darkness deep in the belly of the stinking slut. By keeping one hand on the column of shit and slowly working the panty poop-bag back up over her mother's butt, a leg at a time, Thainee made sure that the outer end of the stool was satisfactorily positioned in the crotch of the garment, braced by the rest of the load, so that when she released her hold on the elastic material, the black turd began its irresistable journey back into the warmth of the bowel that had birthed it. When this latest degradation of the older woman had been completed to Lansing's utmost satisfaction, he told her to stand up straight and turn around, but not before he had gazed intently on the long bulges of turd that mounded the woman's pink panties. She was taking short, shallow breaths and had her eyes closed, almost hyperventilating. "I am very pleased with you, my dear Mrs. Porntip. Just a few more things. First of all, please stand properly, with your legs together, if you please." As the woman brought the heels of her shoes clicking together, her eyes shot open in shock, and then closed again as the three pillars of shit stuffing her genitals shifted deeper into her belly. She could feel, or thought she could feel, the two turds in her cunt slide past the neck of her cervix and into her womb. A long exhalation. "Thainee, I want you to take the pair of white Big Gurlz spandex leggings from the desk drawer. Yes, top left, girl. Take off your skirt and thong and put them on. They're only a 44, but they'll stretch to accommodate your phat ass. I'm sure. Yes, I know they smell a bit off, but they're Dilly's and I haven't had the time to get them washed. They're tight on her, too, but you're much larger, my dear," Lansing smirked. While Thainee struggled to pull the spandex up her legs over her stockings, Lansing moved to her mother's side and then reached around her and patted the lumpy bulges in her knickers. "This is very good," he murmered into the shell of one ear, exposed through cascading hair. You will do very well in R&D. They've been wanting a cow-titted shit-slut to help them out down there for ages." There was the merest whimper, but the eyes stayed shut. He turned to regard the girl, still trying to pull the spandex pedal-pushers over the meaty balloons of her huge ass. As she reached into her own crotch to adjust the clinging material, she suddenly clutched at her stomach as a cramp hit her in the pit of her gut. "Thainee, do you want to go now? Do you feel the need to take a mega-dump, like your slutty mother?" The girl straightened, smiling at her employer. The leggings were painted onto her Reubenesque lower body, stretched so tight that her underwear was a background shadow on the shiny surface of the material. He could see the straps of the suspenders and their large clips spoiling the smooth perfection of the fit. "Beautiful," he muttered, "Just beautiful." "Actually Mr. Lansing, I've been wanting to go all day. My belly's all swollen up." She stuck the slight curve of her belly forwards and looked down. "Surely sir, you've already noticed?" "Come here, Thainee. I'm going to ask your mother to sit down on the chair, and then I want you to pick up that turd on the floor and push it into her cleavage. I want to see how the brassiere holds up when someone is fucking a slut's udders while she's wearing it. Then I'm going to let you take a dump in your mother's lap. Is that clear?" "Oh yes, Mr. Lansing," the girl responded, as she walked, her titties bouncing in the inadequate restraint of the garishly pink tube, "That would be very nice of you sir." As Thainee bent at the knees and bowed low to retrieve her mother's original turd from the floor, she farted loudly; a blattering noise that flabbered long and explosively. "Oh, I'm sorry boss," she said, straightening. "It's really pressing against my little asshole now. I'm gonna burst." "Just a few more moments, Thainee. You and your mother are an absolute delight. I couldn't ask for better employees." Now, fuck that turd into your mother's cleavage. That's excellent. Don't play with it too much, just jam it as far down into her slutty tit-crack as you can get it. There, doesn't she look wonderful? I think you two are certs for joint employee of the month. Alright, Free, sit down on the chair, really slowly. How does that feel? Any sign of the panties giving up? Any signs of material failure? As Thainee's mother sat with great deliberation on the hard seat, there were small popping noises, and then some really squelchy ones. The woman gasped, and then settled. Nothing escaped around the legs of the panties on the outwards sides because the turds she'd shitted into them were so hard, but she could feel them under the crack of her ass and their knobbly excrescences pushing up into the flesh between her thighs. Her own body weight pressing down increased the pressure of the shit-marrows on her external genitalia too, but the shit logs in her body had completely adapted to the insides of her cunt and uterus by now. The immense turd that had been forced back into her bowels felt like a pillar of warm meat. She was sweating as if she sat in a sauna. She opened her eyes as her daughter wiped the shit off her fingers on the lace-edging of her bra cup. An orgasm that she thought would probably kill her was boiling in the volcano of her body. She opened her eyes and glanced at Lancing. In her head, the unspoken pledge: `You are my master now. You own me. There is nothing that I will not do for you. I will hold my own daughter down while you sodomise her: bugger her filthy ass. I am so lucky to have found you, master. Such a lucky shit-slut...' She looked down at her cleavage, appreciative of the way that the turd her daughter had forced into the cleft at the base of her tits forced them to bulge upwards with even more prominence. The smell was filthy, rank, overpowering. She was filthy, a filthy slut. She'd never felt so powerful or fulfilled before in her life. "Now, Thainee, I want you to stand with your backside towards your mother, right up against her knees, but don't sit down yet. I want her to see the shit and piss coming out of her own daughter's filthy ass. Do you understand me, girl?" The girl nodded, almost overcome with excitement. "And Mrs. Porntip, how wonderfully new all this must seem: the benefits of working with a truly innovative company, eh? Just pull back on the waistband of the leggings when she shits out the first. You are to take that one out and lay it in the maternal cleft of your cleavage. You must breathe in the sweet perfume of your daughter's faeces and learn to appreciate the gifts that you have. Can you do that for me, Free?" The perverted mother, now deeply and irrevocably under the control of her master, nodded and smiled. The tears now silvering down her cheeks were tears of joy, not sorrow. She watched the globes of her daughter's buttocks move back towards her lap and jiggle in front of her. She placed an arm around each side of her shit-annointed tit-rack, placed a palm on each globe to steady her girl's huge bubble-butt and watched with unconcealed delight as her daughter began to gush piss and fart loudly, inches away from her face. The smell was different; still gross and foul, but very different to her own. She inhaled deeply and whispered, "Ooooh baby. Shit on mommy now, there's a good girl." Thainee was also sweating. Lansing watched the pearls run in tiny beads down the straining girl's face. He could hear the spitting noises as the first of her mighty turds began to push against the spandex. "Pull the waistband out now, Ferrelee, and when the turd is almost out, fuck it back into the slut's asshole, like she did to you." Free tried, but she had to surrender to the massive orgasm that now consumed her. As she came, and then came again, her hands reached out towards her daughter's bulging butt-crack, but flopped to her sides as she fainted. Her head fell forwards, directly into the cleft of her daughter's buttocks above the waistband of the leggings. "Thainee, it looks as if your mother has succumbed to the delights coming out of your ass. You'll have to help her to get... dressed." The girl took almost twenty minutes to fill her mom's cleavage and her own leggings, and she really filled them. She smeared her mother's tits with ordure and then pulled out the cups, one by one and scooped foul-smelling gobbets of shit from the back of her sagging leggings and ladled it into the gaps, patting them back into place around her mother's quivering mammaries. When Free began to take notice again, her daughter was still straining out the turds, occasionally farting and moaning in ecstasy. It was a truly massive dump. The turds, barred direct egress from the girl's ass because of the stretchy spandex, curved in the crotch of the material and slithered down the path of least resistance, bracketing the mound of her cunt and sliding into the legs of the pedal-pushers. The air of the office seemed to thicken and cloy with the filthy odour of their gently orchestrated play, and when his two shit sluts were done, he had Thainee sit on her mother's lap with her knees to one side and her arms around her mother's neck. Lansing undid his belt and shucked off his trousers and shorts. "Alright girls, Daddy wants to play now. Free, see this?" He ponted at his iron-hard cock. It had never been so immensely erect and was almost purple with the infusion of blood. She smiled and said, "Yes, master." "Well darling, you're going to get a big gobbet of your daughter's shit in your hand; there's plenty of the softer stuff overflowing the waistband of the leggings above her butt-crack, and plaster it all over my cock, alright? The older shit-slut nodded her agreement again. The daughter: wide-eyed and breathelss in anticipation. "Then you are going to ask me, very nicely, to tit-fuck your slut daughter until I feel like cumming. Do you understand?" "Yes master." "Good. At just the right moment, I want you to hold my cock up to your daughter's slutty mouth and force her head down onto it until her nose is in my pubic hair. At which time, you are going to beg me to squirt my load down her filthy throat. Is all of that clear?" The daughter, sitting on her mother's lap with her spandex leggings bulging with foul-smelling shit; shit that was now beginning to squeeze out of the legs and slime the girl's pale flesh, turned to her mother and spoke beseechingly, "Can I mom, please? Can you help Mr. Lansing fuck my fat titties? Mommy?" Free Porntip embraced her daughter warmly, not least because they were glued together with stinking warm excrement. As the older woman hugged her, Lansing watched their enormous udders mashing together, the turds in Free's cleavage smearing across her daughter's own: a giant's foul black crayon painting slime across the purest curves. Free kissed her daughter on her forehead and then her open mouth "Of course, darling. That is what we are here to do. That is how we serve Mr. Lansing. Please sir, my daughter's tits are ready." As Lansing moved to join them, the fronts of his thighs brushing against Thainee's stocking-clad knees, Free slid a hand down across her daughter's belly and under the waistband of the leggings, burrowing into her crotch. The woman began another commentary. Lansing loved the debauched language that his sluts used, but even he was surprised that slut-Free had become so quickly at ease with this aspect of her conditioned sense of role. `Such untapped skills,' he thought to himself. "Sir, I can feel the lumps of my daughter's shit between her thighs. Oh, there's a big piece." Thainee grunted and moved her knees wider apart. "It's very long. I think she wants me to push it into her dirty fuck-hole because it's very warm and slimy in there." Thainee's head fell back and her eyelids fluttered closed. She whimpered. "Yes, she does. She's such a dirty slut, sir. You are absolutely right. I'm going to push this one into her virgin cunt. How does that feel, baby? Do you want your own mother to break you in with a lump of your own hot shit?" The girl swallowed noisily and bobbed her head, once. "Oh yes. It slides in so easily. There it is... one more little push." Her daughter jolted suddenly, her legs showing a momentary pain, and then the tension was gone. "Oh darling, you are such a good girl for mummy. See, Mr. Lansing? She's taken the whole piece into her girly-cunt. Shall I try another piece, boss?" "Yes, Mrs. Porntip. Cram your daughter's slut-hole full, but be quick. I want to fuck her titties now." When the woman had forced so much shit into Thainee's cunt that her belly had begun to swell again and the sweat was coursing down her face and neck and running into the chasm of her cleavage, she took a large scoop and reached for the enormous cock that throbbed wildly, angling upwards from her boss's groin. The woman was getting breathless herself and, despite the weight of her daughter on her lap, squirmed her own ass and buttocks into the hard seat of the chair, feeling the logs of shit in her own panties rubbing sensuously against her sex. As she began to massage the thick mash of excrement into the veined and pulsing shaft of this monster, she took up the commentary again, only this time, it was directed at her daughter and took on a more placatory, soothing tone. "Oh darling, our master's cock is so big. Mommy's getting it all nice and filthy with your shit so that he can fuck your cow-udders with it. Mommy wants to suck it, baby. Mommy wants to suck your shit off the master's cock, but she'll wait till he's finished playing with you first, then mommy will clean you up. That's what mommies are supposed to do, baby: clean up their slutty girls so that they can be tit-fucked again, as often as Mr. Lansing wants to." Moving her head over the mounds of her daughter's tits, Free looked up for the master's consent, and then moved the bobbing organ into the girl's cleavage, poking it into the gorge and watching with evident satisfaction as the shaft of the weapon disappeared into the gravy-lubed valley. As Lansing titty-fucked her girl, grunting with the delightful sensations, Free had an idea. She reached under his ball-sack as it swung and bounced against the pink spandex of the boob tube and pulled the garment down, releasing the girl's tits. As they flopped sideways and released the pressure of their constriction on the master's cock meat, she quickly reached the arm that had been around her daughter's back over the heaving udders and grabbed at the outside nipple, dragging one huge tit over the other and grasping the pistoning prick to aim it into the centre of the much tighter crack. "Oooh yes, Lansing said. "Much better." He had his hands on the outer curves of the young woman's tits now, pressing inwards and beginning to dig his fingers into the fat bags like claws. With her mother's hands now pinched on either nipple, the cock fucking upwards into the underside of the gorge, and her master's nails digging into the flesh, Thainee felt a jolt of electric vibrance surge through her shit-stuffed cunt. The girl began to keen, "Muuuu-ther... Muuuuther... Muuuuuu-ther" through a clenched jaw. She reached the point of no return, had no idea she'd been near it, and her mind burst in a cacophany of exploding stars. The shit in her cunt seemed to burn and burrow upwards into her chest. Somewhere, a woman was screaming in ecstasies of corrosive sensation. As her daughter went over the precipice, Free's body went into spasm with an orgasm of her own, jouncing on the chair and lap-dancing her daughter's titties around the pumping cock, but it was shorter this time. As she recovered herself, she released the fingers still clenched into her daughters nipples, letting small drops of blood bloom amongst the shit covered aureola and realised that her master was close too. Taking a grip on the glossy waves of hair at the back of Thainee's head and grasping the thick shaft of Mr. Lansing's dirt-streaked cock, she began to bring the two together, even though her daughter was still in the throes of a numbing delirium. "Good girl. Open your eyes, darling. I want you to see your master's cock." She waggled it in front of her daughter, an inch before her nose. "This is a big cock, baby. A very big cock - and when our master has finished fucking his man-juice into your face, I'm going to sit on your head in the puddles of piss and shit on the floor and hold your ass apart while he fucks this monster into the shit in both your fuckholes." Lansing was really boiling now, and this litany of filth coming out of the beautiful slut's mouth was unbearably exciting. "And when he's finished pushing your turds so far into your body that you'll smell of shit for the rest of your life, I want you to watch while he does exactly the same to mummy. Now, baby, look at this. I want you to take it into your mouth and then slowly swallow it all the way down. All the way, baby. Mommy's girl can do it, because she's a natural-born slut, just like me." Thainee's uncertain smile died as she opened her mouth wide in an effort to get the swollen purple crown past her lips and teeth. "Wider, baby. That's a good girl. Slowly now..." The fist-head of cockmeat passed into the girl's mouth, her cheeks ballooning. As Lansing felt his hugely engorged meat reach the back of her throat, he had an overwhelming urge to force it into the slut in one terrible drive; could even picture her gagging and choking, but suppressed the desire with the happy thought that this scene could be replayed as often as he wanted. The two sluts were his now: his property. He owned them, body and soul. "Slowly baby." The girls nostrils were flaring with her efforts to breathe and her eyes were wide in terror. "Just don't panic. As the master's cock passes into your throat, you're going to have to concentrate very hard and suppress the urge to gag. I don't want you to vomit, baby. You have to swallow it all the way down. Mommy will put in in slow, baby... That's right. That's a good girl. Mommy's very proud of her slutty little girl." Thainee's eyes rolled in her head, but the man's pubic hair got closer and closer to her nose. As the huge cock descended into her throat, Free watched her daughter's neck begin to thicken, the shape of the cockhead clearly visible. Free stroked the girl's throat, marvelling at the feeling of the giant phallus invading her daughter and the way she continued to breathe. As Lansing bottomed out with a grunt. The mother, still holding a pony-tail of hair at the nape of her daughter's neck held the other hand under the chin, looked up at her new employers and said, "Please fuck my daughter's slut face, boss." The pent-up load in his balls began to unload at the same instant as he had an idea, blinding in it's originality. "Free, we're going to bring out a new line, specially designed for sluts like you two, and we're going to call it, `Durty Big Gurlz." The hose in Thainee's throat began to pump squirts of semen deep into her stomach. `At last...' THE END REPOST [posted 2011]