Alice Benton pulled her sheer white panties up around her buttocks, and then admired herself in the mirror. The gauzy material was so thin that every detail of her shaved pussy was visible, including the hood of her clitoris where it poked out from between her labia. When she turned around, it was as if her buttocks were merely framed by the elasticated seams, so transparent was the veil of nylon lace stretched flimsily across them. In truth only the seams were white – the rest of the garment was practically invisible.
“Very sexy,” she said aloud, with a nod of approval.
She picked up her navy blue skirt next, and stepped into it. Fastening it around her hips, she turned around so that she could see in the mirror how much of her bottom was showing. Almost all of it, she was pleased to note. And at the front, her entire pussy was visible beneath the hemline. Really the skirt was hardly more than a polyester belt, two inches from top to bottom at the back, and just an inch and a half in height at the front.
She put on a white push-up bra, to give herself a bit of extra cleavage, then she donned a semi-transparent white blouse, through which her bra was quite visible. She fastened only the buttons below the bra, so that her cleavage was shown off to good effect, and also a little patch of skin was visible below the bra’s centre panel.
Finally she put on a pair of navy blue shoes and a navy blue jacket, to match the skirt. The jacket, when buttoned up, showed off her cleavage but covered the middle of her bra, and it came halfway down her buttocks so that it completely covered her skirt, making it look as if she was not wearing a skirt at all. From the front, a small triangle of her sheer panties was visible below the jacket, and of course her pussy lips through the panties.
She went downstairs, where her husband Tony was eating breakfast. He almost choked when he saw her. “Wow!” he managed finally. “You look amazing!”
She grinned. “That’s the idea,” she said. Then she grimaced as yet another cramp hit her lower intestine. She leaned against the counter, squeezing her anus shut to prevent the expulsion of the massive poo she had been saving up for the past few days.
“Are you going to make it?” asked Tony.
“Of course!” she replied.
Half an hour later, as Alice walked into the office, her outfit elicited wolf-whistles from the male employees. She smiled and inclined her head to acknowledge their praise, then continued on into her own office. First order of the day: a conference call with her operations team.
“It’s not good news, I’m afraid,” said Colin, the purchasing director. “There was a security scare – now the entire ship has been quarantined. It could be days before our containers make it through customs.”
“You’re kidding!” exclaimed Melanie, the production manager. “We have two lines down as it is! I’ve got forty people on the shop floor twiddling their thumbs!”
“Could you re-jig the maintenance schedule?” asked Alice. “Bring forward a big repair job? How about the maintenance of Number Three machine? Or the palletiser?”
“We did the palletiser last month,” replied Melanie. “And we need specialist equipment to perform the maintenance of Number Three – it could take days for it to arrive.”
“There must be something, Mel – we’re haemorrhaging money here.”
“Nothing that would actually save us money – at least not that I can think of. I’m open to suggestions!”
Alice sighed. “We’ve got to get that ship out of quarantine,” she said. “I’ll call down to the dock – see if I can find some strings to pull.” She cut short the conference call, and dialled Paul Hunt, the shipyard’s director.
“Oh, the ministry have released it,” he told her. “Turned out to be a hoax call. It’s in the hands of the customs chaps now. But I’m afraid it’s at the back of the queue…”
“How can I get it moved to the top of the queue?” she asked politely.
“You could try Bruce Harris,” he said. “He’s the officer in charge of this area … but I warn you, he’s an officious little bugger – he won’t take kindly to you suggesting that he change his plans. Not after he’s already been mucked about with this bomb hoax.”
“Hmm,” said Alice. “Perhaps a face-to-face meeting might help.”
“It might,” agreed Paul. “Particularly if … no, never mind.”
“If what?” asked Alice.
“No, it was inappropriate. I apologise.”
“For what?” said Alice. “You didn’t say anything. Out with it, Paul – if this fellow’s a dirty old man, it would be good to know that.”
“Well, frankly, he is. He has this young assistant that he’s always drooling over, despite the fact that he’s married, and so is she, and he’s twice her age. And he always talks to women’s chests.”
“Perfect,” said Alice. “I’ll have that ship cleared in no time. So where can I find this man?”
“Oh! Well, good luck.”
Alice put the phone down, then she got to her feet and left her office. Next door she found her young transport manager, Carol, typing at her computer. “Morning Carol,” she said.
“Hi!” said Carol. “What’s wrong? You look very serious!” Blonde and pretty, she gave the impression of being a little ditzy, but anyone who spent much time with her soon discovered there was a clever and highly skilled businesswoman beneath the bubbly façade.
Alice, by contrast, exuded intelligence from every pore. It had not taken her long to rise to her current position – in fact, at just thirty-four years of age, she was the youngest managing director in the company’s history. Her dark brown hair was immaculately styled, with waves tumbling attractively down to her shoulders, and her strikingly blue eyes commanded attention. “What are you wearing?” she asked.
Carol stood up, looking a little nervous. She was wearing a smart dark green dress which buttoned up down the front. It stopped at the top of her pale pink silk panties. “Too much?” she asked, putting her hands together in front of her crotch.
“No, it’s fine,” said Alice. “But I’d like your help with a little mission I need to go on.”
“What kind of mission?” asked Carol, visibly relaxing.
“We need to talk a customs officer into getting our ship bumped to the top of the priority list. Maybe even get him to release it without an inspection.”
“And you want me along because…?”
“You’re the transport manager!” said Alice with a smile.
“But imports by ship fall under purchasing…”
“Yes, but Colin doesn’t have a nice cleavage for the customs officer to drool over,” said Alice.
Carol gasped, then looked indignant. “I don’t want some creepy old customs officer drooling into my cleavage! Plus, I dressed this morning for a panty-pooping competition, not for an off-site excursion!”
“You think I’m thrilled about the prospect?” inquired Alice. “Look at my outfit! I hadn’t planned on going off-site either. But we need to get that ship cleared as soon as possible, before we lose any more money. My head will be on the corporate chopping block if I don’t get production up to full steam a.s.a.p.”
Carol sighed. “And my cleavage will help?”
“Yes it will. Apparently this guy has a soft spot for breasts. When you and I walk into his office he’ll think it’s Christmas. And he’d jolly well better give us a nice present.”
“All right,” said Carol. “But … will we be back in time for the competition?”
“Unlikely,” said Alice. “Which is a good point. We’ll have to postpone it.”
“Until when?” asked Carol anxiously. “I’m desperate, Alice!”
“I’ll check my calendar,” said Alice. “I’ll try to find an hour this afternoon.”
Back in her office, she checked her calendar – and was pleased to see a suitable window between two thirty and four o’clock. She penned an email:
All,
This morning’s panty-pooping competition will not be able to take place as scheduled,
on account of an emergency situation at the dock. Ladies, please try to hang on until
this afternoon – we will hold the competition at 2:45 sharp.
Best of luck,
Alice
She could almost hear the collective groan as her staff opened her email a few seconds after she had sent it. But it could not be helped. She collected Carol, and the two of them drove down to the dock to meet with Bruce Harris. As they pulled into the car park, Alice glanced down at Carol’s chest.
“Undo another button or two, dear – give him something to look at. You’ve got more up top than I have.”
Carol looked down uncertainly at her E-cup breasts, then reluctantly unfastened two buttons so that her chest was as exposed as Alice’s. Then she got out of the car, and followed Alice into the nearest building, where they asked the way to Bruce’s office. After a short walk down a corridor, they found his door and knocked.
Bruce was fifty years old, and cross-eyed. Alice determinedly looked into his right eye as she spoke to him, but Carol kept flicking back and forth from his left eye to his right. Not that he noticed, being too busy looking at their chests.
“Hehe … take a seat … hehe,” he said, grinning like a Cheshire cat as his gaze bored into Carol’s cleavage. He appeared to be suffering from a cold – his eyes were red-rimmed and watering, and his nose was red and dripping. He kept sniffing and wiping his nose with a manky old handkerchief.
“Thank you,” said Alice, removing her jacket.
Bruce’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he stared at Alice’s near-naked pussy. “Wow, you girls are certainly very … attractive,” he said. “Would you like a cup of tea?” He turned back to Carol, and leered at her expansive cleavage.
“Yes please,” said Carol, keen to get his attention on something other than her breasts. “Milk, no sugar.”
“Same please,” said Alice.
Bruce disappeared into the kitchen, but they could still hear him shuffling around.
“We were hoping to discuss the ship on berth 29,” said Alice loudly.
“Oh, the bomb scare one?” came Bruce’s reply. “Hehe – yes, we’d have had it cleared by now if it hadn’t been for that call.”
“Well, we were wondering if you could bump it up to the top of your list,” said Alice. “We’ve had to shut down production and it’s costing us a lot of money. It was already delayed en route, you see, and…”
“I can’t go mucking around with my schedule,” said Bruce. “I’ve got Shell’s boat to do next, and they’ll raise a heck of a fuss if I do yours before theirs.” He sneezed loudly.
“Bless you!” Alice called through to him. “Well I suppose if your mind’s made up, there’s no point in hanging around. Come on, Carol.”
“Well don’t be hasty!” said Bruce. “I didn’t say no definitively.”
“Are you saying you could be persuaded?” inquired Alice, winking at Carol.
“It’s not beyond the realms of possibility,” he replied. A moment later he brought through two mugs. “Here you go.”
As Carol took her mug, however, without warning Bruce suddenly sneezed violently. Carol squealed as her chest was sprayed with saliva and mucus. A large lump of green phlegm started sliding down the side of her right breast into her cleavage.
“Eww yuck!” cried Carol. She reached towards the lump with her fingers, then hesitated, not wanting to touch it. By the time she had made up her mind to try grabbing hold of it, it was too late – it had disappeared inside her dress.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” said Bruce, peering closely at the mess. Then he abruptly sneezed again, and Carol’s breasts were subjected to a second shower, which made her squeal again. Another gooey lump of phlegm, this one yellowish-green in colour, splatted against the middle of her left breast, and started to slide down in the direction of her nipple.
“I’ll get it!” said Bruce. He tugged the left side of Carol’s dress down, away from her breast, then he plunged his hand into the front of her bra, and scooped her breast out into the open.
Carol gasped. “How dare you!” she cried.
Bruce had whipped out his dirty old handkerchief and was dabbing it around her breast. As the lump of phlegm slid down over her nipple, he caught it with the hanky and smeared the mucus all over her areola for a few seconds before wiping it off. “There – all clean now.” He tucked Carol’s breast back into her bra and replaced the left side of her dress.
Carol stared at him, speechless with shock and indignation. Her indignation mounted as Bruce proceeded to take out her right breast as well. “Might as well get this one clean too,” he said. Then he promptly sneezed again, peppering her whole breast with flecks of greenish and yellowish fluid.
“Eww, for God’s sake!” cried Carol, thoroughly disgusted. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you to cover when you sneeze?”
“Sorry,” he apologised. “They just keep taking me by surprise.” He looked down at her mucus- and saliva-covered breast. “Well, since you’re messy anyway…” He raised a finger and pressed it against his right nostril. Then he blew, hard. Several large green sticky chunks fired out of his left nostril. One dropped straight into her cleavage and disappeared inside her dress. One scored a direct hit on her nipple. The rest splattered in various places around her nipple area, some quickly sliding downwards to hang like Christmas tree ornaments from the underside of her breast.
“Ugh, that’s just sick!” exclaimed Carol.
“Just a moment – I’ll clean you up in a sec,” said Bruce. He now closed his left nostril, and blew hard again. This time he missed her breast entirely, and instead showered her panties and upper thighs with gooey green lumps of snot.
“Eww, stop that!” cried Carol. “I don’t want to be covered in any more of your snot, thank you very much! Just get away from me, please.”
“But I have to clean you up!” protested Bruce.
“I’ll clean myself up, thanks!” snapped Carol. She put her breast away and pulled her dress back over her bra.
“If you’ve quite finished molesting my transport manager,” said Alice sternly, “perhaps we could talk about our ship?”
“Yes, well, I’m sure I can bump it up the list a bit,” said Bruce.
“Thank you,” said Alice. “Are you all right Carol?” The look of concern she directed at her underling had nothing to do with Carol’s snotty shower.
Carol was clutching her abdomen. “Cramp,” she gasped. Then her eyes widened. “Oh God – I can’t hold it! We have to go, Alice!”
“Okay, okay,” said Alice, putting her mug down. “Bruce – top of the list?”
“Er … sure,” said Bruce. “All right.”
“Good!” said Alice. She got to her feet. “Come on Carol.”
Carol started to stand up, but then she groaned. She turned and sank to her knees, clutching the chair tightly with her hands. Her eyes were closed and there was a look of pain on her face. “I have to go!” she said.
Bruce stared open-mouthed as the back of Carol’s panties started to tent outwards, pushed from within by a blunt knobbly object. Seconds later, it fell against the material, a long, irregular outline pressing against the silk. A new lump formed, and then another, and slowly a misshapen bulge was causing the panties to sag.
“Stop, Carol!” said Alice. “Or you’ll have nothing left for this afternoon!”
“It’s no good!” groaned Carol. “Once I’ve started I have to finish. UUUUURRRHHHHHNNNNNNNN…” She pushed hard, and the back of her panties sagged downwards until her anus was visible, still spewing forth a long rope of firm, yellowish-brown poo.
“Good grief!” said Bruce.
“This morning was supposed to be our monthly panty-pooping competition,” said Alice. “Poor Carol – I am sorry.”
“Ohhh,” said Bruce, nodding. “Yeah, I hold one here every couple of weeks. Of course my assistant Kerry is the only participant, but if she breaks her previous record she gets a prize.”
Carol pulled up the back of her panties, and continued to force more poo into them.
“Oh yes?” said Alice. “What sort of prize?”
“Well this last time it was a miniskirt I’d picked out for her to wear around the office,” said Bruce. “And she did, bless her.”
“Okay!” said Carol breathlessly. “I’m done.”
“Wow,” said Alice, smiling as she looked at the huge mass of poo threatening to spill out of the back of Carol’s panties. “That’s very impressive! We should get that weighed on the poo scale back at the office.”
“But aren’t I out of the competition?” asked Carol.
“Yes,” said Alice, “but all the same, wouldn’t you like to know how you would have done?”
“Yes,” admitted Carol. “I suppose I am curious how much this weighs. It does seem like quite a lot.”
“Good. Off we go then. Pleasure doing business with you Bruce.”
“The pleasure’s all mine!” said Bruce, grinning at Carol’s overstuffed panties.
Carol gingerly got to her feet, and the two women made their way back to the car.
Half an hour later, they were back at the office, and Alice was weighing Carol’s poo-filled panties on the poo scale. “Ten pounds and fourteen ounces!” she said. “That’s a very good weight!”
Carol smiled. “Probably wouldn’t have won, though,” she said.
“You never know,” said Alice. “We’ll find out this afternoon.” She handed the panties back to Carol, who carefully put them back on. Then Alice said, “You know, you might as well hang on to that poo. You could join in with part two of the competition … I don’t see why you shouldn’t be eligible for the secondary prize.”
“Thanks!” said Carol. “I’ll keep these on then.”
“Splendid,” said Alice with a smile. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some calls to make.”
Lunch came and went, but Alice did not have time to eat – she was too busy discussing contingency plans with, and keeping the peace among, her underlings. Then her calendar warned her that the panty-pooping competition was imminent, and she got up and headed out to the main conference room.
Jim Ponder was the competition’s announcer. “Come on ladies, let’s see, who have we got in today’s event? Looks like there are fourteen of you…”
“Thirteen,” said Carol dolefully, turning her back so everyone could see her bulging panties. “I had a bit of an accident.”
“A lot of an accident, by the looks of things!” said Jim, and everyone laughed, including Carol. “Did anyone else not make it?”
“I let a little bit out,” said Mary Robson, turning and pulling down the back of her panties to reveal a small turd about five inches long.
“Well it’s up to you,” said Jim, “but you’ll have to take out that piece of poo first if you want to join in.”
“Okay,” said Mary. She fished the turd out of her panties and tucked it inside her bra for safe-keeping.
“Right!” said Jim. “First heat: Nicole, Annie, Kath, Mary, Louisa, Barb and Tessa. Come forward and take your positions, please.”
The seven women stepped forward and climbed on to the desk chairs laid out at the end of the conference room. Several of the men in the audience pulled out cameras, and a couple had camcorders. Brian, the company’s official photographer, had brought an expensive-looking professional camera so that he could take some pictures for the monthly newsletter.
“Okay!” said Jim. “Ladies, are you ready? You have ten minutes in which to fill your panties with as much poo as you can possibly squeeze out. On your marks, get set, go!”
Instantly all seven women began to strain, some of them quite noisily. Bulges quickly formed in the back of Annie’s and Barb’s panties, and it wasn’t long before Kath and Nicole had started filling theirs too. Mary was next, with Tessa following close behind. Louisa seemed to be struggling, but after a couple of minutes of grunting, she finally managed to get started.
Kath and Annie were both wearing semi-transparent panties, so their poo was highly visible as a growing brown mass at the base of their buttocks. Then, as more poo poured into their sagging panties, they were obliged to tug the waistband upwards, causing the poo to cover most of their buttock cleavage.
Barb was by a whisker in the lead now, with a very impressive bulge that rivalled Carol’s. But she was still going, and soon it became clear that she would be the one to beat. Then she stopped, panting breathlessly. “Finished!” she announced.
Nicole was catching up, but she soon stopped, with no more to come. Her production was gradually being outclassed by Tessa’s, which seemed to consist mainly of softer, sludgy poo, judging by the smooth, uniform roundness of her bulge. Then she, too, stopped.
By the time seven minutes were up, all seven women had finished, so Jim stopped the clock. “All right!” he said. “Let’s see how you all did. Panties off, please.”
Cameras flashed and camcorders zoomed in as seven naked pussies were revealed. Nicole was completely shaved, as was Tessa; the rest had tiny, neatly trimmed patches of pubic hair, except for Annie, whose pussy was covered in soft, strawberry blonde hair.
Jim weighed each pair of panties in turn. “Nicole: ten pounds and eight ounces!” There was a ripple of applause. “Annie: nine pounds and six ounces!” More applause. “Kath: eight pounds and nine ounces. Must try harder, Kath!”
Kath blushed as she took her panties back and pulled them on.
“Mary: ten pounds and eleven ounces! Very impressive, since you had already done a bit.”
“Good job, Mary!” said her boss, Freddy, giving her a thumbs-up.
“Louisa: ten pounds exactly.”
“Barb: twelve pounds and one ounce!”
“Woah! Nice one, Barb!” Alice said over the considerable applause. “That’ll be tough to beat!”
Barb grinned at Alice as she pulled her panties back up.
“Finally, Tessa: eleven pounds and three ounces!”
Tessa shook hands with Barb, and all seven women went to stand at the side of the room, in full view of the audience so that they could not cheat for the next part of the competition.
“Eleanor, Marge, Inga, Deb, Alice, and Belinda – take your positions please.”
Alice climbed on to one of the chairs, leaned against the back, and arched her back so that her pussy was clearly visible to the onlookers through her transparent single-layer gusset.
“Ready ladies?” said Jim. “You have ten minutes. On your marks, get set, go!”
Alice strained, although she did not have to strain hard. Her poo was screaming to get out. Her anus opened up, expanding wider and wider as a monster turd began to creep out. She gritted her teeth and grunted with effort, trying to relax as much as possible although she feared tearing the skin around her anus. The huge knobbly end of her poo touched the lacy material of her panties, and started to push it outwards. Alice bit her lip and pushed harder, screwing her eyes up in pain, and then she exhaled sharply with relief as the widest part slid through.
Her relief was short-lived – another wide part was now stuck just inside her anus. She pushed hard again, and slowly her anus widened, and widened. Her eyes began watering – this bit was even bigger than the first! Finally she managed to force it through, and after that it was plain sailing. She pushed, and pushed, and inch after inch of poo slid out of her rectum into her panties, adding to the dark brown mass, which was so clearly visible to the cameras and camcorders that the material of her panties was not even discernable.
Soon she had to reach back and hold on to her panties to stop them from falling down. More and more poo came out of her anus, until with nowhere else to go it started to push forward along her gusset, nudging between her pussy lips and sliding over her clitoris. Then it was pushing up into the front of her panties, where it curled up and started to build into another large mass.
She finished her poo, straining hard until the very last little bit had popped out into her panties. Then she sighed with relief. “All done!” she said.
It was not long before everyone else had finished too. The six women removed their panties and handed them to Jim, one by one. He weighed the first. “Eleanor, nine pounds and eight ounces.”
“Marge, eleven pounds and four ounces!” There was a good deal of applause for this.
“Inga, twelve pounds and one ounce! We have a tie for first place!” Lots of applause.
“Deb, ten pounds and ten ounces!”
“Alice … holy shit! Thirteen pounds and eight ounces!”
There were gasps all around the room. Alice grinned, looking extremely pleased with herself. “New record, Jim?” she said.
“I’ll say! Congratulations Alice! Finally: Belinda, nine pounds and fifteen ounces. Our winner, for the fifth time running, is Alice!”
There were cheers and whoops and whistles, and Alice bowed and lapped it all up. Then she took her panties back, very carefully stepped into them, and pulled them all the way up.
“Now for the second part of the competition!” said Jim. “Our first seven contestants, please take your positions.”
The chairs were all drawn back to the side of the room, and the first seven women removed their panties and lay down on their backs on the floor. Spreading their legs apart, they placed their full panties on the floor between their thighs.
Jim went from one contestant to the next, carrying seven large pieces of duct tape, one of which he stuck to the knee of each woman. “All right,” he said. “You know the drill. You have five minutes to stuff as much poo as possible into your vagina. When I tell you that the five minutes are up, you must stick the piece of tape over your pussy so that the poo inside you can’t come out. Any poo left on the outside will be weighed, and the difference between that weight and the original weight of your poo will represent your score for this section. Any questions? No? Okay then – go!”
“Come on Barb!” “Come on, Kath!” The cheers of support filled the room as the women began pushing long pieces of poo up into their vaginas, while the cameras and camcorders recorded it all in glorious close-up. Some of the turds were firm, and easy to insert, while others were softer and tended to merely squish around the whole pussy area. Barb, whose mammoth turd had all been pretty solid, soon managed to stuff two foot-long pieces inside her. After that it seemed to get more difficult – there was so much inside her that new pieces had nowhere to go. Somehow she found a gap, and slid another long piece all the way in, but then she was done.
“Time!” announced Jim after five minutes. Instantly seven pieces of tape were placed over seven very full vaginas. Jim crouched between Nicole’s legs, and pulled on a rubber glove. Collecting all the excess poo in a Tupperware container that he had previously weighed empty, he took it over to the scale and performed a quick calculation.
“Nicole managed to fit two pounds and two ounces into her vagina!” he announced.
The process was repeated with the other contestants, and the winner of this heat turned out to be Louisa, who had somehow found room for four pounds and six ounces of poo.
“That’s amazing, Louisa,” said Jim. “Give her a round of applause, everyone!”
Louisa blushed and smiled as she was applauded and cheered. Then it was time for Alice’s heat, which now included Carol, whom Jim had agreed should be allowed to compete. He weighed her poo, and sent her to lie down with the others.
Alice took a deep breath as she lay down with her poo-filled panties just in front of her pussy. When Jim said “Go”, she immediately grasped the firmest-looking turd she could find, and laid it to one side. It was the very thick, knobbly piece that had come out first. It would have to go in last – she had had plenty of experience at this game. She found the next hardest piece, and laid that to one side too. Finally she selected a soft-ish piece, and, holding her vagina open with a couple of fingers (click! click! went the cameras), carefully worked the poo inside, prodding it as deep as possible.
The next piece was a little firmer, but she still held herself open to enable it to maintain its shape as much as possible. Then another piece, harder still. She was getting pretty full by this time, but she pushed another long, firm piece inside her vagina before she turned to her thickest, hardest, knobbliest turds. She was running out of time, she knew – she would have to hurry. She pressed the first one against her opening, which slowly expanded around the poo. As she pushed it inside, she could feel a lot of resistance – it was going to be almost impossible to get the hardest piece inside her. Nevertheless, having pushed the poo inside her as deep as she could, she picked up the large hard chunk and started to push it inside. It soon stopped, and she could feel that her vagina was extremely well-stuffed, but she persisted, pressing it with the palm of her hand until, finally, it was all inside. Her opening was being held wide open, however, by the sheer width of the poo – she really needed to get that tape on. How long was left?
“Time!” said Jim.
Alice quickly sealed herself up with the tape, and heaved a sigh of relief. She felt terribly full. As Jim weighed each woman’s excess poo, she could hardly concentrate, she was so uncomfortable. But she listened attentively as he collected her own poo and took it back to the scale.
“Alice managed to fit four pounds and thirteen ounces inside her vagina!” he said.
She grinned, but her sense of achievement was short-lived. Although Belinda only managed to stuff three pounds of poo into herself, Carol proved to be the dark horse of the day.
“Five pounds and an ounce!” cried Jim. “Incredible! Good job, Carol.”
Alice smiled at Carol. Being a very competitive woman, she could not help feeling a little disappointed, but she was happy for her transport manager, whom she really did like a lot.
The prizes were issued: a Golden Poo trophy for Alice, and a poo-shaped vibrator for Carol. Then Alice sent her staff back to work, and returned to her office, clutching her prize. She sighed happily. These events certainly were fun – perhaps she should start holding them on a weekly basis…