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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Company Picnic
by Ed Rider (edrider73@gmail.com)
***
Nine-to-five theme. Female employees decide to teach
their male bosses that it's not nice to mess with the
women they employ. (F-dom+/MM, nc-bi, d/s, huml,
blkmail)
***
Something was wrong in accounts receivable.
Only 20 out of the 200 people at the company picnic
were in the department, and most of them participated
in the games and enjoyed the barbecue just like the
rest of the staff. But at least eight of the eighteen
ladies seemed preoccupied, and one young woman was
almost hysterical.
The two men in the department, Mr. James, the manager,
and his assistant, Mr. Granger, didn't notice any of
this. Beers and mixed drinks had turned them happy and
sappy.
Mr. James and Mr. Granger were known for their
jolliness even when they weren't drunk. Almost a joke
in the company, they seemed to be joined at the hip.
Both in their 40s, like most of the women they
supervised, they were always smiling and joking and
enjoying the attention of their women like roosters in
a henhouse.
But the superiors they reported to knew that behind
the easygoing exterior, both were efficient and
ruthless administrators. They got bonuses every year
for how well they kept their costs down, and most of
the costs were personnel costs.
The women they supervised felt they should be getting
paid more for how hard Mr. James and Mr. Granger
worked them. But they also knew that their jobs were
secure as long as they produced, and so they put up
with the way their bosses condescended to them and
their annoying fake good-natured joking.
When one of the older women retired, everyone moved up
a notch, and the newest employee always became the
executive assistant to both men. They pretended she
was an important secretary and dictated letters and
messages to her, but in reality, she was little more
than a file clerk and errand girl for everyone in the
department and worked harder than any of the other
women.
The newest girl in that position was a cute young
thing in her mid-20s who was viewed with suspicion by
the veterans at first, just like each new hire in the
department. But Viveca was so eager to please and so
friendly and trusting that by her second month, she
had become the department pet.
That's why Abby and Kathleen were shocked to see her
sobbing with her head in her hands late one Thursday
afternoon. They had been working a few minutes late to
finish a project, and they thought everyone else had
left. When they heard a noise in the break room, they
found Viveca.
"What's wrong, Viveca?" asked Abby.
Viveca looked up startled. "I didn't think anyone was
here," she said and stood up, wiping her face with her
hand. "I'm sorry for bothering you. It's really
nothing."
"It sure didn't sound like nothing," said Kathleen,
pulling her back down to the table and sitting next to
her. She put her arm around her shoulders, and was
startled when Viveca turned to her and buried her face
in her chest and began sobbing again.
It took over an hour of soothing and sympathizing, but
Kathleen and Abby were used to cracking harder nuts
than Viveca. Gradually, it all came out.
Mr. James and Mr. Granger had been joking with her
since she began working for them, and since she saw
them joking with the other women, she figured that was
just part of working there.
The joking began getting graphic, making her more and
more uncomfortable. Sometimes individually and
sometimes together, they would begin making unpleasant
conversation with her. It upset her, but she didn't
say anything because it happened only occasionally and
not for long.
Then the touching began, and it went further and
further. Finally, she resisted and told them to back
off. That's when they laughed and joked and said they
were sorry, that she must have misunderstood their
intentions. But during the laughter and joking, they
mentioned how bad they felt about her mother's health
and how glad they were to hire her so she could earn
enough money to make sure her mother would be able to
get the care she needed.
She was shocked because it sounded like a veiled
threat. They told her to take the rest of the day off
and said they were looking forward to working together
with her after she'd had a chance to calm down and
realize they only wanted the best for her. They both
gave her looks that told her she was interpreting them
the right way. If she didn't put out for them, she
would be out of a job.
For the last two weeks, she told Abby and Kathleen,
she had been having sex with each one alone in their
offices in the middle of the day. It started with oral
and went on to full sessions on top of their desks and
couches. And they both told her today that they were
expecting anal next week.
Viveca said she was afraid to tell her boyfriend
because she thought he would go after Mr. James and
Mr. Granger and end up in prison. She didn't know
which way to turn, and she felt like she was going out
of her mind.
Abby and Kathleen listened in shock. They knew the
games Mr. James and Mr. Granger played to manipulate
the staff and keep the salaries down, but this was
something grotesque. They looked at each other and at
Viveca. Abby cleared her throat and said, "Viveca, you
can stop crying. We've known Mr. James and Mr. Granger
well for many years, and we'll have a chat with them.
They are going to stop this nonsense. Call in sick
tomorrow, and we'll see you at the company picnic on
Sunday, but I promise you by the time you come to work
on Monday, all this will be behind you. Now get
yourself together and go home."
When she had left, Kathleen turned to Abby and said,
"Why did you tell her that? What can we do?"
"I don't know," said Abby, "but we have to think of
something. I'm going to spend some time tonight
thinking about this, and I want you to do the same.
The first thing I'm going to think of is which ladies
here hate them the most. And the second thing is what
we can do to help Viveca. They've screwed us over
through the years, but they've gone too far this time.
Maybe we should have done something before they turned
into pond scum. Tomorrow, we'll go over our ideas and
see if we can come up with something that works."
On Friday, Kathleen and Abby invited eight of the
other ladies in the department to a lunchtime meeting.
Only six of them could make it. Kathleen reserved the
tiny back room at the chop suey joint down the street,
which was only big enough for six, but they managed to
all squeeze around the table.
When Kathleen and Abby told the others what they had
found out, outrage was followed by frustration,
because everyone felt they were powerless to help.
Then Abby and Kathleen began to read some of ideas
they had come up with. There were about 20 of them,
and each one was more extreme and outrageous than the
one before. What they had in common were two themes:
humiliation and blackmail.
The other women smiled while they listened, and soon
the brainstorming was in full swing. After wonton
soup, potstickers and egg rolls, Abby called a halt.
"We have half an hour left, ladies," she said. "We've
got some great ideas. Now we need to figure out which
ones will work on Sunday at the picnic."
Between the sweet and sour pork, moo goo gai pan, beef
with broccoli and refining of the ideas, they got back
to the office 10 minutes late, but Mr. Granger and Mr.
James didn't say a thing. They knew the ladies who
were late were among their most efficient and reliable
employees, who never caused any problems. So they made
a joke about it but didn't reprimand them. The ladies
all laughed louder than usual at their joke.
***
At the picnic, the eight conspirators noticed that Mr.
James and Mr. Granger were buzzing around Viveca. As
they got more soused, their tongues had become looser
and looser. They were the same smiling, joking bosses
as usual. But whenever one could manage to get next to
Viveca out of earshot of the others, there would be a
special joke for her that made her upset.
After one of the episodes, she ran to Kathleen and was
almost in tears. "I'm trying to avoid them," she said,
"but they keep coming up to me and making jokes about
asses and anal sex. I'm almost ready to throw up."
"Take it easy, Viveca," said Kathleen. "Until the
picnic is over at 3, I want you to stick close to me
and Abby. We'll run interference so Mr. Granger and
Mr. James won't have another chance to talk to you
alone. When we're done here, I want you to leave
immediately and go home, and I want you to be in the
office on the dot at 8 tomorrow morning. We'll take
care of everything else."
"What are you going to do?" asked Viveca, her eyes
wide.
"You're not going to be involved in any way, and
you're not going to know," said Kathleen. "It's safer
for you that way."
"Please don't get yourselves in trouble on my
account," said Viveca.
"You're such a sweetie-pie," said Kathleen and gave
her a squeeze. "Don't worry about us. We'll be fine.
I'm so glad we got to know you."
If Mr. Granger and Mr. James noticed that some of the
women were spiking their drinks with extra booze from
the punch ingredients, they didn't say anything. They
were having a good time smiling and joking.
Their wives weren't at the picnic, because it was an
employee-only gathering, with no boyfriends,
girlfriends, spouses or partners, unlike the Christmas
party, where everyone was invited to bring a date. So
the two men drove there together. They hadn't decided
who was the designated driver, and as the picnic wound
up, both were sitting on benches and leaning over a
picnic table, unable to speak coherently or even stand
up.
Kathleen, Abby and a couple of the other conspirators
managed to almost drag them to Abby's sedan and dump
them into the back seat, where they leaned against
each other and made it hard to tighten the seatbelts.
While they were dragging them along, several of the
other women in the department walked over and looked
at the men.
Most of them remarked that they had never seen Mr.
Granger and Mr. James so drunk. Abby told them, "We
know. That's why we're leaving their car here and
taking them. We'll try to sober them up so they can
drive home later without getting in trouble with their
wives." That got them a look that seemed to say, why
in the world would you do that for them?
The car was silent as Abby drove except for mumbling
from the back seat, and the first time anything was
said was when they pulled up the driveway of a nice
country estate about 15 minutes from the picnic
grounds. Two cars pulled up behind them, and as the
women rolled the two men out of the car, Mr. Granger
said, "Where are we?"
"This is the home of one of my sisters," said
Kathleen. "Her family is on vacation in Europe, and
I'm watching it. It's not far from the picnic, so we
thought we'd bring the two of you here to sober you up
before you went home. We already called your wives and
told them you'd be delayed a few hours because of an
unexpected meeting." Both men nodded.
"Let's bring them around to the back yard," said
Kathleen to the women. "We've got everything set up
there. We won't have to go inside at all except to put
on our swimming suits. Did everyone remember to bring
one? Good. Where's Doris? Oh, I forgot, she went to
get her dog.
"OK, the mudroom door is open. We'll take turns
changing. The second shift, help me get Mr. Granger
and Mr. James over here by the volleyball poles. No,
we're not going swimming. I know it's hot, but this
area over here has plenty of trees and lots of shade.
Bring those straps over here, Josie."
The house was on a ranch estate with large wild growth
on both sides and the wild area in back led to wire
fences that were too distant to be seen. The women
look around and couldn't see the nearest house.
Kathleen's sister and her husband liked privacy.
The back yard was almost as big as a football field,
divided into a large pool area and an even larger
grassy lawn that rose to a nice hill from which you
could see over the fence into the wasteland beyond.
Large trees around the perimeter gave shade and made
patches in the bright sunlight on the lawn.
The two men were dragged over the lawn, and each one
was laid down by one of the metal poles that was used
to hold up a volleyball net. Then the women started
taking off the men's clothes. The men tried to resist,
but they were too wasted to make more than a half-
hearted effort. They grumbled, but they weren't
coherent.
"Josie," said Kathleen, "you'll find hoses on either
side of the house. They're really long because they
can be pulled all the way to the end of the lawn, so
please take the end of each one and bring them to
these poles. Then I want you to attach one of these
pistol hose sprayers to each one. There's a container
for chemicals attached to each pistol, but let's leave
it empty for now.
"Good, Venus and Gloria, you brought your video
cameras. I know you are champs at movies of the family
and kids, but this is a different kind of shoot. I
want each of you moving around to the best position
for all the action. Don't worry about what the rest of
us are doing or if you're getting in the way. Your
videos are the most important thing happening here
today and we want footage that's good enough for an
Academy Award." All the women burst out laughing.
"OK, they're stripped. Good job, ladies. Now the first
part is one of the ugliest, so if you're grossed out,
don't look. Let's start with Mr. Granger. Get him on
his hands and knees ladies. Now pull his legs wide
apart and push his knees toward his chest so his hairy
ass is high in the air.
"That's it. He's spread, but we need to see more. One
of you please take each cheek and slowly pull it away
as far as you can so we have a clear view. Now, hand
me that bright red nail polish, Abby. I'm doing some
body painting right here in the middle. I'm painting a
nice wide red circle all over the hair around that
ugly black hole. Too bad no one will ever see how good
I am at this. I see all of you ladies enjoy watching
my art. Three of you stay with Mr. Granger and make
sure his cheeks stay wide open until the nail polish
dries. It's a scratch resistant brand, so it won't
wear off for at least a week. The rest of you ladies
come and help me with Mr. James."
When they had checked with a tissue to make sure that
the polish had dried on each man, they let go of the
cheeks and the red circles disappeared from sight.
"Now help me with these chains and belts," said
Kathleen. "First we're going to attach each of them to
one of the poles by an ankle, like the dogs they are.
Let's give them about three feet of chain so they can
move around the pole.
"Then, let's put a cloth utility belt with all those
metal loops in them around their waist. Now let's
attach the loop on the end of one of these long rubber
straps to the ankle on each side and run each one
through a loop in the utility belt and attach it to
the wrist on the opposite side, pulling it in to their
bodies. When they're standing up, the hands will be
forced straight down their sides. If they move their
hands forward or up, it will pull the opposite ankle
into the air and throw them off balance. Stand them up
to make sure you get it right. It doesn't take a lot
of restraint. This should be more fun than a three-
legged race.
"OK, are the hoses attached to the power nozzle? Are
the men ready? We'll start at this pole with Mr.
Granger. Oh, Josie would you go back to the side of
the house and turn on the water? Abby and I are going
first because we thought up this disgusting game.
After we show you how it works, we'll share the water
pistols with whoever wants to take a turn.
"First we're going to get the attention of Mr. Granger
and Mr. James. See how I'm turning this setting to the
left, so the spray is diffused. It's so hot out here
that the water is actually warm, but I think it will
still wake them up. She went first to Mr. James and
then to Mr. Granger who were lying on the lawn and
stood over them and aimed a blast of water right in
their face, then a second, then a third.
"Both men got up sputtering and attempting to lift
their hands to their faces to wipe them off. But when
they did, it pulled at their ankles and made them lose
their balance. Finally, they figured out that if they
squatted down, their hands could move freely.
"What's going on?" demanded Mr. James as he squatted
and wiped his eyes. The women had never seen an angry
face from him in the office, but he sure knew how to
make one.
Kathleen had been elected the spokeswoman. "Nothing
but a little fun, Mr. James and Mr. Granger," she
said. "You know how much we love all your little jokes
and the funny things you tell us at work. The picnic
was fun, too, but we thought we'd have some special
fun today to thank you for all you've done for us."
"Thanks, Kathleen, but I don't find this funny," said
Mr. Granger. He was more serious than they had ever
seen him. "I think it's time to untie us. We know you
mean well, so there aren't going to be any
repercussions at the office. You know how we value all
of you ladies."
"Yes, we know," said Kathleen, "and we know how our
department is always No. 1 in keeping costs down and
you've helped us win that honor every year. You've
trained us well, and we know you're doing the same
with our darling Viveca."
The blasts of water had started the two men sobering
up, and now they turned to each other when they heard
these words and gave each other a quick glance before
turning away.
"So we're going to play a few games with you this
afternoon," said Kathleen, "just for fun. The first
one is like a carnival game, the one where you get a
water gun and aim it at a tube to see who can fill it
up and push a ball to the top of the tube first.
"We have two pistols here, and we're ready to play.
All we need is the target, and that's where the two of
you come in. We're going to pace off 10 feet and all
the ladies will get in a circle at that distance. We
won't get any closer, but these sprayers are powerful,
and we can adjust them so they shoot needles of water.
"For us, the game will be sharpshooting, but for you
two it will be dodge ball. You're going to try to make
us miss or at least hit you in a less vulnerable spot.
We're starting with five minutes on Mr. Granger while
Mr. James gets to watch. Ready, Amy. On the count of
three.
Up to this point, neither man had said anything else.
They both looked stunned while listening to Kathleen.
"Wait a--" said Mr. Granger, but stopped when his
mouth was filled with water from Abby's gun. He spit
it out and turned his head away.
Abby and Kathleen were both in the ring of women
around him. Kathleen was aiming at his chest, and the
warm water wasn't very concentrated so it almost felt
good, like a massage. But then he felt the spray get
finer and harder, and at the same time it was moving
slowly down his chest. In a panic, he realized where
she was going, and he moved his hands forward to cover
his crotch.
He almost fell over as he yanked his ankles up, but
then he squatted down and got his hands in front of
him. Suddenly he screamed and reached his hands behind
him. He turned around and saw that Amy had dropped
down onto the grass and had aimed the piercing needles
of water through his spread legs right at his
testicles.
As he turned around and protected his balls from the
back with one hand, Kathleen moved and found a small
opening in the front and he screamed again as the
needles of water hit his penis. Now the dodging began
in earnest. He twisted and moved constantly,
protecting one side and then the other, trying to
watch the two marksmen as they moved around him and
shot from every angle. The grass around the pole got
slippery from the water, and sometimes he fell on his
rear, opening himself up to their needle bullets. With
a scream, he got back and squatted on his feet as fast
as he could and continued dodging.
Finally, Kathleen said, "Take a rest Mr. Granger,
while we play with Mr. James. Who's ready to try the
water pistols." All the ladies were eager for a turn
as they walked over to Mr. James who had been
watching. He hadn't watched well enough, because the
first thing he did was also try to say something until
his mouth was full of choking water. Then he began
dodging like he saw Mr. Granger do.
The ladies took turns at two-minute games until each
had a chance at the men. When they finished, both men
were hunched over on the grass, holding their hands
tightly around their penises and testes.
"Good, Doris," said Kathleen, "you're back with Kong.
Do you have that stuff that they rub on the bitches.
Great. Get Kong ready for the next game.
"Ladies, Amy and I are going to play one more game of
dodge ball with Mr. Granger and Mr. James. Watch us."
She began aiming at Mr. James and walking around him
looking for an opening. She got off a couple of shots,
but Mr. James was squatting down and crouched forward,
protecting his package with as much of his body as he
could.
Meanwhile, Amy was unscrewing the container where
liquid fertilizer was put in to mix with the water and
filling it up with something. She screwed the
container tight and then turned back to Mr. James.
"Ladies," she said. "Do you see any target?" They
looked and all laughed. In protecting his vitals, Mr.
James was squatting and bent over with his legs wide
apart, one hand behind his balls. His rear cheeks were
spread wide and in the middle was a thick red circle
with a black center. It looked like a bullseye."
"Let's see how good I am at target shooting," said
Kathleen as she aimed. Mr. James jumped as the water
needles hit his rear hole, but he kept his eyes on
Kathleen who was looking for ways to get him where it
really hurt.
The bullseye opened under the water assault and the
warm water rushed in, filling his insides. When he
tried to move away, Amy got off a good stinging shot
at his balls, so he stayed in his squatted crouch
protecting himself from her. The water gushing into
him was uncomfortable, but at least it didn't hurt.
Then the ladies began cheering. White bubbles began
shooting out of Mr. James at the same time Kathleen
was shooting into it. "I filled the chemical holder
with liquid detergent," she said. "There's a washing
machine going on inside Mr. James now. Let's go over
and see if we can find Mr. Granger's target." Soon he
was erupting geysers of bubbles out of his rear, too.
Kathleen put down the water pistol. "OK ladies," she
said, "take off the all the belts and the ankle
chains. We need to get Mr. Granger and Mr. James ready
for their big race."
She showed everyone where the starting line was, and
they led the men over. Both were still bent over
holding their equipment in fear.
"Mr. Granger and Mr. James, I want you to meet Kong,
she said as she went to each man and began smearing a
smelly cream over their backs and buttocks. "Mr. Kong
is a Great Dane and very horny. He hasn't had any
action in a while, and he's ready to stick his thing
in any hole that's open. I've just rubbed some fluids
from bitches in heat on your bodies. Breeders use it
to get the male dogs to breed faster.
"Do you see Kong's huge dong. Doris has been working
on it for you, and it's ready for action. In a couple
of minutes, we're going to start the race. No
cheating. Each false start will give your opponent 10
steps on you.
"You're going to race from here all the way up that
grassy hill about 100 yards from here, around that
tree and then back. About five seconds after you
start, Dong will be released. If he can catch either
of you and knock you down, he can have his way with
you. I think he's at least as heavy as either of you
and he can jump pretty high.
"If he can't get you while you're running, he still
won't be disappointed, because he'll get to enjoy the
loser of the race anyway.
"Now you may be feeling a little funny inside. That's
because I've just given both of you a powerful enema
with the soapy water. We want you to be nice and clean
for Kong's dong.
"The question is whether this is going to help you run
faster or slow you down. We're going to wait a few
minutes until you feel the full effect before the race
begins. Ladies, tell me when you think they're ready
to run."
The women watched the two men as they got more and
more agitated. They had stopped holding their crotches
and were now shifting around and squirming and bending
in various directions. They were trying to hold their
breath, and their faces were getting more and more
red. As the movements started getting faster and more
jerky, some of the women started saying, "Now! Now!"
and more of them joined in.
"OK, ladies, lead them here to the starting line,
Doris, bring Kong here. Wow! Is he ready or what?"
"On your mark, get set, go!" said Kathleen. All the
ladies joined loudly at the word go, except for a few
that had gone ahead to the tree to make sure the men
ran around it.
The men began running, but their steps were jerky and
erratic. The two women holding the cameras had no
trouble keeping up with them. One woman ran ahead, and
one stayed even. Their arms weren't swinging at their
sides but holding their stomachs or shaking wildly.
They looked back and saw Kong start at them and tried
to go faster, but then one of them fell and when he
got up he squatted for a second and some bubbles and
other matter came from his rear.
The other one kept going, hopping along crazily until
finally, he had to squat down too for some release.
Both resumed as quickly as they could, but then the
urgency came over them again and they had to stop for
relief once more.
The ladies cheered as they saw Kong catch up to them.
"Is he really going to rape one of them," said Josie.
Doris laughed. "No, we don't breed Kong with humans,"
she said. "We just wanted to scare the living
daylights out of them." From the murmur of the other
ladies, it sounded as though some were disappointed.
The men were coming back toward them now. Mr. Granger
was slightly ahead, and Mr. James looked desperate.
They broke down a few more times on the way back and
bubbles were rising into the sky as they ran. Just
before the finish line, Mr. James lunged, but he
couldn't get ahead of Mr. Granger and he collapsed and
began sobbing loudly.
Kathleen kept up the fiction a while longer. She went
up to James lying there and inserted her pistol right
into his target and began filling up his insides on a
lower setting. "We want you to be totally clean for
Kong," she said. "You can go over behind that tree now
if you want."
She went up behind Granger and motioned for some women
to hold him while she did the same thing to him before
releasing him. "Just in case Kong is still horny after
he finishes with Mr. James," she said as she sent him
off to the tree. As they heard the men moaning behind
the tree, the women cheered.
"Time for more games," said Kathleen. "Men aren't
supposed to breed with animals, but they do breed with
women -- and other men. We know Mr. James and Mr.
Granger like variety, so now that we've cleaned them
out, we're going to introduce them to two more
exciting games. My son works in a welding shop, and
when I described what I wanted him to make yesterday,
he said, 'Mom, what in the world would you use this
for?' The only thing I could think to tell him was,
'Never you mind!'"
The women laughed as she pointed to a steel
contraption that had two sides and a crossbar. The
cross bar was connected to the metal support pipes
with a ratchet device. "He spent six hours on this
yesterday after work, and tonight it's going to the
dump," she said.
"Who volunteers to go behind the tree to get our boys?
Before you bring them here, let's hose them down
really well.
The men were soaking when they were escorted to the
strange device. They were also shaking, but not from
being cold. It was still hot, and they were drying off
fast. They looked as if they'd been through the
ringer.
"Our next contest is an endurance contest," announced
Kathleen. "Mr. James come over here. Pretend like
you're at the gym and get underneath this cross bar."
Mr. James didn't do anything, but a couple of the
women dragged him into place while he looked around
frantically.
"Now this will be almost like doing squats, except you
won't have to do anything but stand there for 15
minutes and you win, Mr. James. Then it's Mr.
Granger's turn.
"Lift your head up and feel the weight of the bar.
It's as light as a feather, isn't it? It's sturdy, but
thin and hollow inside. Probably the foam padding
where it hits your neck is as heavy as the metal. You
shouldn't have any problem holding it up for 15
minutes, even if you're distracted occasionally.
"Here's how it works. Push that block of wood over
here, please, Abby. The front of it goes under the
device so that only a little sticks out this way, just
enough to go under the cute package hanging down from
Mr. James. It's only up to your knees, so those wood
splinters sticking out of it shouldn't cause any
damage if you don't squat down too far, even though
you have to spread your legs a bit to keep your thighs
from getting splinters.
"Here's how the game works. If you stand firm and hold
that bar up for 15 minutes, you win and we're done for
the afternoon. We don't even get to play with my
special carnival game. But if you lower your head a
little too much, this ratchet device turns and lowers
the bar a notch. You won't be able to bring it all the
way back up. Now you have to hold it at a lower level
for the rest of the time. And if you drop it again, it
will stay at the next level.
"Of course, if that happens, you'll have to start
squatting down and getting closer to those sharp
splinters. But don't worry, there's plenty of room
behind the piece of wood and you can just stick your
rear out to avoid it.
"Of course, with your legs spread apart and your rear
sticking out, you've got to be careful. No, don't
worry, no more water pistols. Oh, here he is. Hello,
Mr. Bigwood, right on time. Gentlemen, Mr. Bigwood is
a professional that our department hired with our
emergency petty cash fund. You can leave your T-shirt
on Mr. Bigwood, because we all like how you fill it
out, but please pull your shorts and underwear off and
sit down on these outdoor furniture cushions we put
over here, right behind Mr. James.
"Ladies, it's your choice. We worked everything out
today so that we would barely have to touch Mr. James
and Mr. Granger. But anyone who would like to is
welcome to touch Mr. Bigwood, because that's his
business. If not, he can take care of it himself. Oh,
I see there's no shortage of volunteers."
Mr. Bigwood seated himself behind Mr. James and was
immediately blanketed with women who took turns on
him, mostly with their hands, but one of them shocked
everyone by using her mouth.
Kathleen turned back to Mr. James. "Where was I," she
said. "Oh yes. I was saying that with your rear stuck
out and spread wide, you've got to be careful, because
Mr. Bigwood will be right behind you." There was a lot
of giggling as the women moved away. "Look back there.
Isn't that the longest thickest human baseball bat
you've ever seen. Mr. Bigwood is famous around the
world for his movies, but he lives right in town.
"If you're not careful and have to squat down and
stick too far out to avoid the splinters, your anus
may end up on Mr. Bigwood. If that happens, you lose
the game and get to play our last one. If you can keep
off him for 15 minutes, you win and we go home.
Shouldn't be hard, although there can always be
distractions. But focus on the job at hand, staying
off of Mr. Bigwood, and you should do fine."
"OK, we're ready to start. Get in position. Move those
legs further apart unless you don't mind splinters.
Now your head goes here. Keep it up so the bar doesn't
lower. You can grab onto the hollow steel support
pipes, although for some reason, they're covered in
oil and very slippery. So if you use them, hold
tight."
"You look ready. So let's start timing right now."
The women gathered around the scene watching, giggling
and whispering. For a minute or two, Mr. James stood
with legs wide apart and head straight up like a
statue. Then he gingerly tried to move one leg at a
time just slightly for relief from the stiffness. As
he did so, his head nodded down just a little.
"Click" came the sound of the ratchet, and his head
was now six inches lower. He wasn't even close to the
splinters, but he decided he'd better start pushing up
against the padded bar with his neck so that it
wouldn't drop any further. The pressure began building
up and he tried to relieve it just a little. "Click."
Now his head was just a little above horizontal. He
looked down. The splinters were closer, but still not
threatening. But just in case, he thought he'd better
move his rear back, away from them. He looked behind
him at Mr. Bigwood's giant tower rising from the
cushions. It was below his rear but still a foot away.
When he turned his head back, he made a mistake and
dropped it for a split second. "Click."
No more looking around now. He knew where everything
was. His back ached because he was bent over halfway.
He felt like the splinters were very close, so he
thrust his rear further out. Then he recoiled.
Something had pushed between his cheeks. He got off
that something fast, but this time he was careful not
to drop his head.
"Ten minutes," said Kathleen. "Good work, Mr. James.
Now get ready for a little distraction. Is it plugged
into the extension cord, Abby? Good. Turn it on."
Mr. James felt someone touching him below and jumped,
making sure not to lower his head. He looked down and
saw a pair of hands holding a small suction cup to the
end of his penis. The cup was sucking the tip in for a
few seconds and then releasing it. "It's a breast
pump, Mr. James," said Kathleen. "Very gentle isn't
it. Is it making you feel good?"
Mr. James wasn't feeling anything at first, but as it
softly pulled him in and released him, he began to
feel a stirring. It slowly got stronger and stronger.
"Twelve minutes," said Kathleen. Something inside of
Mr. James began feeling urgent. When the hands pulled
the suction cup back for a moment, his body followed,
and his head dropped for a second. Click.
Now his head was nearly at knee level and his rear was
sticking up into the air, but he couldn't hold it
there, and gradually it came down until he felt
something big, round, hard and greasy pushing into his
cheeks.
He moved forward off it for a second, and then he felt
something brush against his balls. It was the
splinters. He had to move back, but the greasy thing
was there.
Click. Oh no. He forgot about his head. It was below
his knees now. He couldn't keep his rear up in the air
much longer. How much time was left? Maybe if he would
lower himself slowly, he could just sit on it and it
wouldn't go in. Slowly, slowly. No, no. It was through
his hole. The greasy thing was inside him. The girls
were cheering. He had to lift up off of it. For a
second he did, but then his heavy rear had to come
back down and push it deeper inside him. He felt like
it was drilling a huge hole in him. What was
happening? Wait, someone was lifting him. It was two
of the women. The wooden thing between his feet was
gone, and the bar was up. They were moving his head
down and out of that ratchet thing. He was crying.
"That's it, girls," Kathleen was saying. "It would be
fun to watch him go all the way down, but that would
spoil the finale. He lost the game and he's got to pay
the penalty. Let's get Mr. Granger over here. He's
been watching, so he should do a lot better."
But Mr. Granger impaled himself on Mr. Bigwood even
faster. Once the breast pump started sucking him, he
lost all control.
While two of the women carried the ratchet device to
the bed of Doris's truck, Kathleen and Abby began
setting up the carnival ride. "Would some of you
please dress the men," she said. "Only their shirts,
because we don't want any chafing."
Next to one of the big inflated plastic pool
mattresses that had been pulled onto the lawn was a
metal contraption. "I got this from my cousin who
rents it to carnivals and clowns who do children's
birthday parties," said Kathleen.
Two heavy metal tripods rose high into the air.
Connecting them over the mattress was a metal
crossbar, and hanging from the crossbar was a large
heavy metal spring. On the end of the spring was a
harness.
First, Kathleen had Mr. Bigwood sit on the edge of the
mattress. "Let's let Mr. Granger go first this time.
Ladies, I think Mr. Bigwood is drooping a little."
Several of the women rushed over and while Mr. Bigwood
lay back, they got his smokestack erected quickly,
more than a foot straight up in the air.
"This harness is made to be safe and comfortable, even
for children," said Kathleen as she buckled Mr.
Granger and connected the velcro strips. "See how many
points of support there are, so it doesn't pull at the
shoulders or under the arms. The entire upper body is
encased in padding. There, Mr. Granger, you're now all
snug inside it."
"Now Mr. Granger, the object here is similar to the
last game. You'll be standing above Mr. Bigwood on the
inflated mattress with your legs wide and leaning over
for balance. The harness will be adjusted so that it's
pulling you up a little, and your anus will be about
12 inches above Mr. Bigwood's cylinder. You can hold
onto the straps above the harness for additional
support.
"To win the game, you must stay off of Mr. Bigwood for
15 minutes. Right now you're off the ground, but we
will gradually let the harness drop so that your arms
and legs will have to support you without help.
"The important thing to remember in this game is,
'Don't bounce.' If you move at all, do it very slowly
and carefully. Believe me, you don't want to bounce.
Of course, if you do bounce, that will make it more
fun for us to watch.
"OK, Mr. Granger is strapped in. Where is that lube,
Abby? Good, please hook this enema bag high up on the
derrick there, while I carefully push this tube as
high up Mr. Granger as it will go. Don't moan like
that, Mr. Granger, Believe me, you want this to go way
up high inside you. There I think that's as far as I
can go. Turn the spigot, Abby."
Mr. Granger began moaning and jerking as the liquid
poured into him. "We could have hand lubed you, Mr.
Granger," said Kathleen, "but nobody wanted to put
their fingers in there. Besides this enema is going to
fill you to bursting with greasy lubricant. It's
uncomfortable now, but you might thank us later." This
brought laughter and some clapping for the ladies, who
were watching Mr. Granger's discomfort."
When all the liquid was inside, the tube was slowly
removed and Mr. Granger was put in position. Mr.
Bigwood was lying on his back on the mattress with his
knees at the edge and his feet on the ground, with Mr.
Granger right above him.
Kathleen and Abby moved Mr. Granger around until they
decided he was standing at the right spot. Then they
held his legs up in the air while Doris adjusted the
tension on the harness so it was holding his entire
weight above Mr. Bigwood's pole. Then the feet were
dropped.
"Ready, set, go," said Kathleen and she signaled to
lower the harness. Mr. Granger's toes touched the air
mattress, and he was balanced above Mr. Bigwood. He
grabbed the straps above him and held tightly. He was
breathing in and out slowly and concentrating hard.
"OK, are you ready, Mr. Granger. We're going to slowly
give slack to the harness, so you'll have to stand on
your own two feet, so to speak."
The harness dropped just a couple of inches, and Mr.
Granger stayed rigid so he wouldn't drop with it. His
hands held the straps and he was standing with his
legs on either side of Mr. Bigwood. Mr. Bigwood's legs
were spread apart, and that forced Mr. Granger's legs
wide, too, and the tension of standing rigid made them
tired. He slowly slipped down into the harness again.
He still didn't feel anything until at the end of
slipping down, he dropped the last two inches a little
too fast, causing a bounce that pushed something at
his anus. He felt some lube trickle out, but managed
to steady himself so there was nothing poking him.
"Eight minutes," said Kathleen. "Time to drop the
harness again." Mr. Granger swayed a little as the
harness dropped another couple of inches. His leg
muscles were exhausted, but he managed to keep his
rear elevated. Then he felt the suction cup at his
penis and tried to keep from reacting. For a while, he
was as still as a statue, but then he began to groan
and shift on his feet, which caused some bounces and a
painful probe by the giant cylinder under him. It
didn't get far inside, but it did release some more
lube. He was now standing in a puddle of lube and he
felt his feet slipping. He dropped down into the
harness, and as he did, Mr. Bigwood burst into him.
It felt much worse than when he had lowered himself
down on the ratchet machine, because it was quick, and
because this time he couldn't control himself when he
dropped and his impact in the harness pulled it down
on the springs. Because the springs snapped him right
up again, it ripped him off of Mr. Bigwood's cylinder.
He couldn't stay up for long, but this time he lowered
himself more slowly, down onto the pole until the
harness stopped him. He sat there embedded, and then
felt the harness begin to lower slowly with his body
hanging from it. Slowly, it went down, until Mr.
Bigwood's entire cylinder was squeezed inside Mr.
Granger and Mr. Granger was sitting on Mr. Bigwood's
lap.
The ladies were laughing and clapping with delight as
they watched this process. Kathleen said, "It looks
like you lost the game Mr. Granger, so you have to pay
the penalty. Hold on for your ride."
As she said this, the harness lifted him up again a
couple of inches in the air. Most of Mr. Bigwood was
still inside of him.
Then he felt the first bump. Mr. Bigwood had pushed
his rear up at Mr. Granger's butt. The bump launched
Mr. Granger's body up and the spring made him go up
faster. When he came down again, his butt slammed hard
against Mr. Bigwood, which launched him back up. He
went up and down a few times before the spring
activity stopped.
He was still for a second, and then he felt another
bump, a harder bump, sending him further up, which
made him fall down faster and bounce still further up.
This time Mr. Bigwood kept up a rhythm of bumping and
Mr. Granger found himself flying crazily up and down
Mr. Bigwood's pole, which felt like it was ripping his
colon to shreds. As Mr. Bigwood bumped faster, Mr.
Granger sometimes smashed into Mr. Bigwood just as Mr.
Bigwood was thrusting at him, causing a doubly hard
collision and double the pain. Other times, he was
being pulled up and Mr. Bigwood was pulling down, and
the thick pole tore out of him so fast he thought his
insides were being pulled out of his body.
He began crying uncontrollably. Even when Kathleen
told Mr. Bigwood to slow down, Mr. Granger couldn't
stop. Kathleen asked if there was anyone who thought
they could keep up with Mr. Bigwood. One worker
volunteered, and she held the suction cup on Mr.
Granger as he bounced. He had managed to slow himself
down.
Once Mr. Granger was aroused, he stopped crying, and
Mr. Bigwood was asked to gradually increase speed
again. Sometimes the woman's hand couldn't keep up,
but most of the time she managed to hold the suction
cup in place even as the bouncing got higher and more
crazy.
Mr. Granger began screaming again in between panting
that grew faster. His body thrust at the suction cup
desperately, launching a third vibration in the spring
that pulled him sideways in addition to up and down.
His body began squirming and his legs kicking.
The woman dropped the suction cup and reached down to
the mattress and scooped up a handful of lube from the
pool that had been pushed out of his rear and slapped
it on his penis and then began to pump him up and
down.
In a minute, he was bouncing wildly in her hands and
spurting in every direction like a sprinkler. This
sent the women into another frenzy of cheering and
clapping.
After the sprinkler stopped. Mr. Bigwood also stopped
and the women lifted Mr. Granger off the still hard
rod and dropped him onto a lawn chair, where he lay in
a heap. Then they turned to Mr. James who had been
watching and whose face showed his horror.
When they finished with Mr. James, he was whimpering
like a wounded animal. Everyone was quiet, except
Kathleen, who talked to the men while the women were
dressing them. "We hope you enjoyed our picnic games,
Mr. Granger and Mr. James. We all know how much you
like having a good time with the staff, and we wanted
to show how we can have a good time, too. You're tired
now, but we're going to make sure you get home looking
nice for your wives. And tomorrow we look forward to
seeing your usual smiling faces and hearing your jokes
again.
"In all the activity, we forgot to tell you there are
a couple of business matters we need to take care of.
It seems that this year we're not going to be getting
the award for being the most frugal department. All
the ladies are going to get some of the raises that
they've been owed for years. I'm afraid your bonuses
will probably be slightly lower as a result.
"The reason is that some of the ladies have been
talking about moonlighting. We were thinking about
starting an Internet sex site with the videos we shot
today. Some of the ladies think we can make a lot of
money with those videos, but most of us don't want to
get involved in that. We'd rather keep our videos for
our own enjoyment instead of sharing them with the
world. We're concerned that some of our company
executives might see them, and that would be
embarrassing. And we're sure you'd rather see us
focused on our work instead of moonlighting.
"I think the raises are a better solution than the
videos, don't you? But you can think about it and tell
us tomorrow morning. The other item of business
involves Viveca, but we can tell you about that in the
car on the way home."
***
The next morning, when Viveca came to work, she was
told Mr. Granger needed to see her right away. She
took a deep breath, picked up her steno book and
walked into his office. She saw Mr. James sitting in a
chair on the side of the room. Both of them were
smiling broadly, but today for some reason, their
smiles seemed more fake than usual.
"Sit down, Viveca," said Mr. Granger. "I'm sorry to
tell you this, but we are letting you go."
"Oh no!" she screamed and her body began shaking.
"Please don't --"
"Please be quiet, Viveca," said Mr. Granger. "It's not
your fault. You know how much we like your work. But
we have a close-knit family here in accounts
receivable. Many of our girls have been here for over
20 years, and they all get along.
"They told us that you just didn't fit in." At this,
Viveca breathed in sharply and looked toward the door
with an agonized expression. "We could have overruled
them, but that would just be asking for trouble, and
nobody, including you, would have been happy. So we
felt this was the best way.
"We would like you to leave immediately -- right now.
We've even prepared your severance check. And we
promise you that despite what any of our girls may
think about you, we will both give you excellent
referrals. We wish you the best of luck." He stood up
and reached out his hand to shake hers, and so did Mr.
James. She was in a daze.
When he handed her the check, she looked at it, and
her head snapped back. "I think you've made a mistake,
Mr. Granger," she said with a sob. "This check is
bigger than a year's salary."
"No mistake," he said, and she noticed their smiles
were so tight that it looked like they were going to
bite through their jaws. "This will give you plenty of
time to find your next job, plus you'll be getting
unemployment."
Now she understood. She smiled at them and wiped away
the tears with her hand. "Thank you so much, Mr.
Granger and Mr. James," she said and walked out the
door slowly. As soon as she closed it behind her, she
rushed over to Abby and Kathleen and gave each of them
an emotional hug.
"Thank you so much," she said. "How can I ever repay
you?"
"We thought of that," said Abby. "First, we expect
regular reports on how well you're doing in your new
job. Second, we want to be invited to your wedding."
"Of course," said Viveca, starting to cry.
"No crying," said Kathleen. "Get out of here. Until
they hire someone new, I've got to do some of your
job, and I need to finish your letters of
recommendation for Mr. James and Mr. Granger to sign.
I think I've come up with some great compliments for
you that I know they'll really love."
END
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any
of the scenarios in this story should seriously
consider seeking professional help.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 77