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Message-ID: <62489asstr$1359151805@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Ed Rider <edrider73@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Company Picnic
Lines: 947
Date: Fri, 25 Jan 2013 17:10:05 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


<1st attachment, "Company Picnic.txt" begin>

Company Picnic



   By Ed Rider



   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 are doing in your next 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." 

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