comedy

Someone Please Call AT&T & Shut Off My Phone, I Need To Get Laid



“Right. That’s what I said. That’s what I said, Dee. ” Jenna paused and frowned. She was pacing the foyer of the large house and grimacing. “Brandi had the BALLS to call me and say that she bought the exact same dress I have been covetting. CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?” She nodded. “Yes. Can you believe that? What a flaming bitch. I thought she was my friend, but friend’s do not do this to friends. No. This is so wrong, Dee. So very wrong on so many levels. Like OH MY GOD what a ho! I really can’t believe-” Silence. Then a yawn. “Yes, Dee, I know you hate Brandi. Take this time to remind me why you hate Brandi. Please.” Another pause. “Oh yes, go right ahead.”



“Can I take this time to remind you that I am alive and listening?” came the voice of her fiance. Jenna glanced down the hallway and toward the sound of Paul’s voice. He was sitting at the kitchen table with his cheeks in his palms. Growling. That meant he was pissed. Mad pissed.



“Dee? Yo, Dee, I have to call you back. Paul is pissed.”



“Paul is NOT pissed,” he groaned.



“Yeah Dee, from the look of it, it’s bad. I gotta go.”



“Paul is not pissed,” he repeated.



Jenna nodded. “Okay, Dee. Love you too. And Dee? Dee? You there?” The next pause was followed by laughter. “Fuck, he is loud! What the fuck is he doing?” Silence. “Riding a what? A fire truck? Are you serious? No wait, I don’t even want to know. I have to go. Love you, Dee.” Pause. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” Pause. “Okay, bye babe.”



Paul sighed with victory as his fiancee finally hung up the phone. This was a common problem in their relationship: he was never home and Jenna was always attached at the conch to a telephone. That meant, when he was home, he had to pry her pretty little hands off the handset if he wanted to spend quality time with her. At this rate, he’d have to plan the wedding. And the minister would be AT&T. Yes. It was that bad. He sighed again. “Thank fuck you’re finally off that god awful phone.”



“What died in your Cheerios?” Jenna grinned, taking a seat across the oak table. “I love you, Paulie, but you have been in a shitty mood all week long.”



Paul shrugged and pushed his chair back from the table to stretch his legs. “I have three weeks vacation and my fiancee has spent the first week of that time attached at the lobe to a plastic electronic device.”



“I sucked your cock last night,” Jenna defended with a frown. “You said that was-”



“Jen?”



Jenna lowered her gaze and widened her pupils. Her puppydog face was in full effect. “Yeah, baby?”



“Sucking my cock is great, I’m not complaining but that’s not ‘quality time’.”



Jenna ignored this, piping back into her animated mood and sitting up in her chair. “So did you hear what that flaming bitch Brandi did?”



Paul placed his head down on the table top and sighed. “YES!”



“OH MY GOD,” Jenna exhaled. “She went to the store and INTENTIONALLY bought the dress that-”



Paul sat up at the familiar sound. “Jesus christ, here we go again.”



Jenna wiggled her eyebrows and cleared her throat as she answered the ringing phone. “Hello?” Pause. “OH MY GOD. Yes, Tom. You heard? Dee called you? Yes, can you believe this?”



“Like oh my god, I cannot believe that she said that she said that he said that she said that…OH MY GOD,” Paul mocked in an angered but amused tone.



Jenna paid him no attention, instead placing her elbows back onto the table as she spoke. “Yes, it’s unbelieveable that she would do this!” Pause, silence. “No, I never would have thought she was such a two-faced whore.” Pause. “Yes, can you believe it?”



“No,” Paul groaned and placed his head back onto the table.



“She’s such a lowlife, Tom. Seriously. Who does that?” Jenna barely paused before adding, “You are definitely right. We shouldn’t invite her to the Baby Shower.”



“BABY SHOWER?” Paul shrieked, jumping up in his seat, his voice cracking. “You’re not…..not…..”



Jenna cupped a hand over the phone and frowned. “Of course not, jackass.”



“Then who?” Paul questioned, eyebrows still raised.



Jenna ignored this and returned her attention to the telephone and Tom. “Right. I say we vote her off the island, Tom. Seriously. She’s no good. Did Dee tell you about the time she-” Pause. “Yes, Tom. I understand. Yes, homework is important.” Silence.



Paul grinned. “Thank Christ!”



“Yes Tom. You do good on your Finals tomorrow, and we’ll see you at the Planning Party. Yes. Okay, love you too. Night.” Jenna pressed “End” and smiled. “Why on earth would you think I was pregnant?”



Paul was slightly taken aback by this and shrugged. “You said that…”



“Paul?”



“Yes, Jen?”



“Did I say that I was pregnant?”



“No,” Paul smiled. “And thank god for that. I just bought this house and our belongings are still in boxes. I’d like to actually unpack them sometime before we birth any little-”



“Yuck,” Jenna ignored her fiancé and frowned. “Can you imagine me pregnant? I would be so fat and hideous and…I’d have stretch marks and-”



Paul shook his head and sighed. “Alright, can we discuss this now?”



“Discuss what?”



“JEN!” Paul groaned, annoyed. “Jenna Renee Hastings, would you listen to me?”



“Maybe, Paul Joseph Thomas,” Jenna grinned. “Maybe. What’s in it for-”



The sound lit fury in Paul’s eyes. He shoved his fists into his pockets, hoping against hope that, for once, Jenna would not actually be predictable and-



“Hello?” Jenna inquired, smiling as she answered the telephone that was still clutched in her hand. “Oh hey, Jules. Yes. OH MY GOD. Did Dee call you?” There was a pause. “Tom, called you? Yes, I just talked to her.” Paul rolled his eyes and groaned. “Yes, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? What a skank. I can’t stand her now and I-” Jenna nodded. “Yes, you are so right, Jules. I never should have allowed her to be my friend. I am too good for her. You’re so right. Yes. WHAT?” Jenna shrieked and slammed her fist down onto the table. “OH NO HE DIDN’T! HE WHAT?” Her breath grew shallow. “JOEL PROPOSED TO HILARY?”



“WHAT?” Paul shrieked in echo of his fiancee.



Jenna glared at him. “OH MY GOD JULIA! OH MY GOD! That’s not even funny. Do not do that to me EVER again! You are so not- JULIA STOP LAUGHING AT ME! That’s not even funny.” Jenna rolled her eyes. Paul sighed with relief. It was a joke, thank fucking God. “Julia Madden, you are bonkers! Entirely bonkers. That wasn’t even funny. You got Paul upset.” Pause. “Yes, he’s sitting right here.” Pause. “I doubt he wants to talk to Benji, because he’s anti-telephone today.” Pause. “Yes, he was just lecturing me on how I have the cordless attached to my ear at all times. Which is so not true, as you know. I do not have it attached to my ear.” Pause. “Right. Like when we have sex, I don’t have the phone on my ear.” Pause. “And when I’m in the shower.” Pause. “And-”



Jenna gasped loudly as Paul reached across the table and grabbed the phone quickly from her grasp. He smirked at her, slipping his tongue ever so slightly forward as he cleared his throat, and stated, “Julia? Yeah, hi. Look, I’m trying to have a serious discussion with my fiancee but she keeps interrupting me to answer the phone.” Pause. “Yes, it’s a bad time. Sorry, Jules. She’ll call you back.” Pause. “Tell Benj I’ll call him back, too.” Pause. “Yes, Julia, we love you both too. Take care now.”



Paul pressed “End” with a sigh of relief and glared at Jenna. “I was speaking to you.”



“I know,” Jenna smirked. “And the phone rang.”



Paul rolled his eyes at this. “Jen, am I getting through to you at all?”



Jenna crossed her legs and placed her elbows on the table. “I guess not. The phone rang and we were-”



“I KNOW THE FUCKING PHONE RANG!” Paul roared, slamming his fists onto the table and causing the entire piece to shake. “Fucking get over the fucking telephone before I throw it into the pool!”



“We have others,” Jenna smiled politely.



“Jen?”



“Yeah, baby?” she questioned demurely. She was playing with him. She did this. Often, in fact. When it came to Paul, Jenna always got her way and she knew it. So she played her advantage and toyed with him. Brought him close to the level of rage, then backed off. It was like a game to her. She loved to play it, Paul hated it.



Paul growled. “Jen, if you don’t cut this shit I am going to get in my car and leave.”



“You’ll come back,” Jenna smiled surely.



“I doubt that,” he shook his head in the negative. “I’ve really fucking had it with-”



“So what do you want to talk about?” Jenna smiled. She was definitely playing the game. He was certain of that now.



Paul sighed. He wasn’t going to play the game, but he was going to have this conversation. “Jen, I only have two weeks left at home and we have done nothing to unpack.”



Jenna shrugged. “I don’t mind living out of boxes.”



“I do,” Paul argued. “And we haven’t spent a single day together lounging by the pool. That’s why I had them put the pool in, Jen. So we could lay together and I could watch you-”



“Sunbathe nude,” Jenna winked. “Mmmhmm, I love my dirty Paulie!”



“Well, would you treat your dirty Paulie right?” Paul winked back. “Fuck, I’m feeling pretty forgotten right now.”



“Oh baby,” Jenna mocked him in a condescending tone. “I can make it better, tell Jenna what’s wrong.”



“JEN!” Paul warned, angrily.



“Seriously, Paulie,” Jenna shook her head and grinned. “You know what I think would solve the problem you are presenting?”



“What problem am I presenting?” Paul questioned, curiously.



Jenna cleared her throat and grinned. “Well, according to you, I live with a telephone attached to my earlobe 24-7-365. According to me, that’s an exaggeration. But either way, you are feeling neglected and my little ego is hurting. Because Brandi is a twatlicker. And-” Paul rolled his eyes. “I think I know what we can do to have some quality time together.”



Paul raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”



Jenna hopped out of her chair and smirked. Her hair and breasts bounced as she hopped in place. “I’ll meet you in our bedroom in two seconds, naked.” With that, she ran off and left Paul sitting at the table alone.



He sighed. “My fiancee is a fucking lunatic.”



“I HEARD THAT!” Jenna yelled from the few doors down. From the sound of her voice, she was in their bathroom. Hopefully changing into something sexier than sweatpants. Probably just peeing.



Paul sighed.



“Are you in the bedroom yet?” Jenna yelled.



Paul frowned and stared at the talking door. “No, I’m staring at the door.”



“Go get naked!” Jenna demanded.



“It’s pretty hard to be demanding when you’ve locked yourself inside the bathroom and I can hear you pissing,” Paul laughed.



There was silence, then a flush. Jenna’s unamused voice followed. “Fine, if you want me to call Julia back I can do that right now, instead of riding your cock and making you-”



Paul ran into the bedroom and belly flopped onto their king-sized mattress. “I’M NAKED!” He scrambled to quickly remove his bulky, gray Zoo York sweatshirt and Dickies. He was definitely overdressed for sitting around the house listening to Jenna jabber. Yes. But pretty soon, he would be underdressed for success. He grinned. Yes, finally he’d get some attention. He grinned ridiculously again and glanced expectantly at the doorway.



The phone rang.



“JESUSFUCKINGCHRISTDKHJKLGJGDGDKGHDGLDGDKGJDKGJGKLSDJG,” Paul growled loudly.



Jenna appeared in their bedroom doorway and giggled. “I won’t answer it, baby. Right now, it’s just us.” Paul stared at his fiancé standing there so innocently. She was dressed in a miniature black plaid skirt- some might refer to it as schoolgirl-esque- that he had never seen before. No doubt a recent purchase on one of Jen and Julia’s lavish shopping sprees. Come to think of it, he might have to blame Dee too. Dee definitely led Jen astray in the mall, as well. Either way. Who cares? The skirt is hot. And the matching…



“What is that?” Paul pointed and drooled.



“This?” Jenna tugged gently on her miniscule blouse. “It’s a bra, Paul. They have those on your planet, yes?”



Paul frowned. “Don’t ruin the mood!”



“Did you see these?” Jenna squealed, pointing to her shoes, black PVC platforms that laced up to her knees. “Aren’t they hot?”



Paul nodded. “Yes, baby, they are hot. And you look beautiful in them!”



Jenna cheered, ran and dove onto Paul and the bed. She straddled his hips and grinned. “I got them on Clearance at Hot Topic.”



“I thought you hated Hot Topic?”



“I do,” Jenna nodded. “It’s lame, but Dee forced me to go in there and then Julia spotted these shoes and they…spoke to me. Paulie, they actually spoke to me. They said, ‘Take me home, Paul will love me’.”



Paul laughed at this and brushed a strand of Jenna’s blonde hair out of her face. “You’re crazy, baby.”



Jenna nodded and giggled again. “I know and you love me for it.” The phone rang again, but to Paul’s delight, she ignored it, instead leaning forward and placing her lips to his. The kiss was short and sweet, Jenna pulling back to lick her lips. “Mmm, you always taste so good.”



“Better than you?” Paul grinned.



Jenna shrugged. “I don’t know what I taste like.”



Paul smirked as he gripped her hips. “I could…show you.”



Jenna smirked back. She pressed her lips back to Paul’s, and sighed into their kiss. His tongue was so moist, so soft. His teeth even seemed to taste perfectly clean. It must be the vanilla toothpaste. He always tasted good, but never this good. Smokers shouldn’t taste this good.



Without breaking the kiss, Paul’s right hand slid slowly off Jenna’s hip. Lower. Down her thigh. Lower. She moaned slightly. Lower. He trailed his fingertips ever-so-slightly against her skin. She cooed. Lower. He inched his thumb between her thighs, placing soft pressure onto her moist panties. She cooed again. Lower. Harder. His fingers moved into further position. He slid her panties aside and grinned. “You want this?”



Jenna simply sighed and tried to nod. Her head was resting on his chest, and she could hear his heart was racing already. She smiled languidly at this, and at the sensation of his thumb pressed firmly against her clitoris. His fingers were rough, calloused. The added stimulation felt like sweet nectarines of heaven. So poetic and beautiful and-



Paul slipped a finger inside her folds and smirked. “You’re like a rainforest already, baby.”



“You get me so hot,” Jenna sighed, her eyes shut tight in pleasure.



Paul continued to work his finger slowly inside her, before he smirked down into her eyes. “You ready for this?”



“Mmm,” Jenna cooed.



He extracted his finger and grinned lasciviously as he raised it to Jenna’s lips. “Taste yourself, baby. You taste so good.” Jenna parted her lips slowly, flicking the tip of her tongue outward and sliding down Paul’s finger. Paul grinned at this and ran his left hand up into her long blonde hair. “Tastes so sweet, right?”



Jenna nodded and swallowed down herself. “But now I want to taste you!”



At the simple sound of her words, Paul felt himself coming to life. He sighed. “Baby, you don’t have to do that tonight. I just want-”



Jenna sat up and straddled his hips again, smirking. “Shut up, Paulie. The student wants to teach the teacher.”



“You’ve been such a naughty little schoolgirl,” Paul smiled, slapping her ass playfully. “So so bad.” He drew in a deep breath, he could practically taste Jenna’s perfume. It was expensive, he knew that much. He had bought her the bottle in Europe, as a surprise. She had showed him her appreciation for the gift, orally. He grinned at the memory. Jenna’s hand inside his boxers snapped him back to reality and he laughed. “Don’t rush it, baby.”



“I’m hungry,” Jenna grinned.



“Me too,” Paul frowned. “Fuck, why did we skip lunch?”



He earned a stern slap on the chest from Jenna for this. “I meant for YOU!”



“Oh,” Paul stammered.



Jenna winked. Her grip enclosed his growing erection and she squeezed him gently. “Hungry for this.” Her grip seemed to ease, and then she tightened her fingers again. Paul growled with frustration. “I’m hungry for this inside me.” Paul nodded and Jenna leaned forward. He realized that somewhere in his momentary lapse of consciousness, she had remove her bra. She was topless and her abundant breasts were just inches from his lips. God, she was going to drive him crazy like this. “I’m hungry for your cock, Paulie,” Jenna repeated. “I want you inside me. Do you want to be inside me?”



“Oh god yes,” he moaned, head thrown back into the pillows.



“Where?” Jenna questioned playfully.



Paul moaned again.



Jenna squeezed his balls and smirked. “Where do you want to be inside me?”



“Fuck,” Paul coughed. “Fuck, Jen. Just fucking…Jen!”



“Yes, Paulie?” she taunted.



“Don’t do this to me, baby!” he pleaded. “Fuckin…Jen, I gotta fuck you! Please, just fucking…”



“Put it inside me, Paulie,” Jenna continued to flirt. “Wherever your little heart desires.” She blushed at her own words and gyrated her hips against his abdomen. “Paulie, I need you. Decide. Because I want you now.”



Paul growled with the effort of sitting up. He lifted his tiny fiancée as if she were nothing, and placed her down on the bed. Within seconds, he had torn her skirt off and tossed it across the room. Literally, torn. Jenna had frowned at the sound of the tear, but she had simply wiggled her hips and begged him to be inside her. “Paulie, please!”



“Fuck,” he hissed as he rolled a condom into place. “Fuck, Jen. I’ve missed this.”



“Me too, baby,” she smiled.



Paul grinned. “You ready for me, baby?”



Jenna nodded excitedly, leaning up on her elbows to watch. “I love it when you fuck me hard, Paulie. Fuck me so hard the neighbors can hear!”



“The closest neighbors are half a mile away,” Paul laughed, hovering just outside her tight body.



“Still,” Jenna smiled. “Fuck, put it inside me!”



Paul blushed and worked the head of his erection inside her body. “You’re so fucking tight, baby. How do you stay so fucking tight?”



Jenna grinned. “Exercise!” With that, she managed to flip her fiancé onto his back and place herself on top. “I wanted to ride you,” she blushed as he stared up at her curiously. “Mmm, baby, I wanted to be on top.”



“You wanted me to be the bitch, huh?” Paul questioned, amused.



“You know it,” Jenna winked.



“Tell me what you want to do to me!” Paul demanded, running his hands up her legs. To her hips. Caressing the soft skin. Up to her stomach. Her pierced belly-button. Her soft chest. Her breasts. He paused at his favorite part of his fiancee’s body and massaged her nipples slowly, tenderly. He cupped her breasts in his hands and stared up into her eyes. “Do you like that, baby?”



“You know I do.”



“What do you want me to do next?” Paul questioned, pinching her nipples softly.



Jenna moved her hips. Her pleasure was emitted in slight yips of sound, and the glorious grin plastered across her face. “Baby, you’re so big.”



“You always say that,” Paul laughed.



“It’s true,” Jenna winked. “Mmm, Paulie, I love your cock.”



Paul laughed at this.



“I want you to fuck me so hard with your big-”



The familiar noise was lost to Paul. He was lost in the sensation of Jenna’s hips swirling, his cock buried deep inside her body, and the warmth of her breasts still cradled in his palms. Jenna smirked at the lucid expression on his face as she said softly, “Hello?” Pause. “OH MY GOD, ROSE! Yes. What? WHAT? Rose, calm down, what’s wrong? What’s wrong, Rose?”



Paul opened his eyes and stared up at his fiancée, incredulously. “You’re fucking me and talking on the fucking phone?”



Jenna silenced him with a wave of her hand. “Calm down, Rose. Rose, I can’t understand you. Sweetie, take a breath. Okay.” Silence. “What did Julia say? Rose? Honey, what did Julia say?” Pause. Laughter. “Rose, that was a fucking joke. Julia was joking.”

(While technically BDSM, this is a comedic story)



*



Peggy looks at me and as if she’s reading my mind says, “You will be working late today.”



I try not to let my groan of despair be too audible. Peggy is nice enough to pretend not to notice.



“What can you tell me about Sylvia Winton?” Peggy begins.



“Head of Human Resources, she’s married with no children. She’s forty-seven and has been with the company twenty-five years. She has no known hobbies or any religious background.”



“That’s not much to work with,” Peggy sighs. “Is there anything else?”



“Her husband is a non-entity; she doesn’t bring him to any corporate parties. There was a rumor that before I got here she had an affair with someone in General Administration, but things went poorly. He was fired under suspicious circumstances and his marriage fell apart; a real ugly affair.”



“How do you find this stuff out?” Peggy asks.



“People treat me like an idiot,” I admit. “They say all kinds of things around me. I tend to remember what I hear. She’s also never had an intern make it into the company which considering her time with the company is a bit odd.”



“Joshua, who does she bring to corporate functions?” Peggy grinned.



“Usually a junior members of HR; either male or female; it doesn’t seem to matter. They don’t do much except follow her around and get her stuff.”



“Joshua, have I told you how rewarding it is to work with you today?” Peggy smiles down at me. I get all warm and fuzzy inside.



“Actually, have you ever told me that?” I question.



“Well, I should do it more often. Now, I need you to send out a memo. You are forming an exploratory task force to create a new Intern Retention Program. I’ll have you the names for the e-mail by lunch.”



“Peggy, what is an Intern Retention Program?”



“Joshua, don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you what you need to do,” Peggy assures me. I sigh in relief. For a moment I thought I’d have to do some work.



(Later that Afternoon)



“Mrs. Winton …” Peggy informs me as Sylvia Winton comes storming into my office. The lady slams the door shut and bears down on me. I’m glad I pissed a few minutes ago because I would certainly be pissing on myself now if I hadn’t.



“Mr. Townsend,” Sylvia sneers, “what in hell are you doing launching a project in Human Resources without my express permission?” My hands are trembling. I look down at my palms.



“Mrs. Winton — Sylvia, this is a project my Father wanted to put forward to pave the way for your appointment as Head of General Administration. I wasn’t supposed to inform you at this stage, but I respect you. This is really a formality to bring a few members of the board around to his way of thinking. After all, if this was a hatchet job would he have given this project to me?”



Sylvia glares down at me. I gulp. Her glare becomes a sinister smile. She leans down on my desk and looks over the top of her glasses at me. All I can think of is how huge her breasts are. Good God I had never known any that big and firm before. She walks around, blouse buttoned high, but no jacket and lean over my desk. I gulp again, but for a different reason.



“Well,” she purrs, “Joshua I respect your candor in this matter. I certainly won’t tell anyone that you let this slip. Perhaps we can get to know each other better.”



“I occasionally work late. Do you work late sometimes as well?” I ask innocently. She leans forward a little more and leers.



“I do indeed work late most nights. Maybe we can do something when we finish,” she tells me.



“Maybe I can stop by your office,” I respond. She looks like the cat that ate the canary, or what I imagine a cat would look like if it ate a small bird. I’ve never had a cat … or a bird.



“I’m glad we cleared this little matter up. I expect you to keep me informed of the projects direction,” she commands me. She pulls herself up straight, pushes out her exceptional bust line and strides to the door. She has a large ass too. She’s a bit on the hefty side, but definitely succulent. She gives me one last look before opening the door and heading out. She clearly enjoys me enjoying her figure. I look at the little symbol drawn in pen of a fish on my hand.



Peggy comes in and shuts the door.



“Well?” she asks. I deflate and slump in the chair as a response. “Your survived; be proud of that,” she tells me. “Did you stick to the script?”



I hold up my palms to her which have all the relevant notes scribbled on them, including the little fish that was to remind me that she is a piranha.



“Tomorrow the real work begins,” Peggy promises me. I try not to let the disappointment show in my face. The weekend is only two days away and I was hoping to kick things off early Thursday afternoon. I have the feeling that Peggy is going to nix my plans.



(Thursday Morning)



Cecilia Lynski, Keisha Lynn, and Walter Rand are sitting in the Joshua Townsend’s office with Peggy and me. I’m really wishing I wasn’t Joshua Townsend right now.



Keisha seems to have some idea what is about to happen. Walter definitely does. He is the one who has approached Peggy. Poor Cecilia looks alone, downtrodden and dispirited. For my part, I have my lines. Peggy tells me I have to act brave and get the ball rolling.



“This program has two goals; the first one is to find out why interns weren’t being retained in Human Resources and to deal with those problems. Each of them had terminated interns and Joshua Townsend wanted to know why,” Peggy begins.



“Ms. Lynski, please tell me why you terminated your latest intern?” I lead off with. She flinches.



“They weren’t working out,” she responds weakly.



“So, Mrs. Winton didn’t demand you fire Janice Nesmith? That is how it looks to us.”



Cecilia looks like a cornered animal. Peggy leans forward, but I speak first.



“Cecilia, how is your private life? You’ve broken up with your boyfriend of five years. Did she demand that of you too?”



Cecilia starts to tremble. “I can’t go against her,” he rambles. “You don’t know what she’s like.”



“Oh, I think Mr. Townsend and I have developed a firm idea of what is going on. We know what she is doing and we are putting a stop to it,” Peggy begins.



By ‘we’ I hope Peggy is talking about ‘she’ and not ‘me’ or ‘us’, because I’m clueless about what’s going on. I’m figuring out that Sylvia Winton isn’t a nice person. I already know she is a scary person.



“She scares the crap out of me too,” I tell Cecilia as I put a warm hand onto her cool trembling one. She looks into my eyes and hopefully sees something besides a vacant stare. She smiles at me, gulps and nods.



“She’s terrifying alright,” the woman sighs, “but what can I do?”



“We can stand up to her,” Walter says. “Mr. Townsend is going to help us put her in her place. What she’s doing has got to stop. We are people after all.”



I am wondering how Peggy has gotten my Father involved when I notice that everyone is looking at me. Then it dawns on me that by ‘Mr. Townsend’ they mean me and that by ‘going to help’ they expect me to stop Sylvia from doing God knows what. I don’t remember this being part of the job description for Office Drone.



“Mr. Townsend …” Peggy starts. I make a command decision, off script.



“Please, everyone call me Joshua. Mr. Townsend is my Father,” I announce. Peggy nods.



“Joshua wants to know what each of you have been forced to do for Mrs. Winton. From there we can formulate a plan to give her a dose of her own medicine. She’s going to learn what it feels like to not be the person on top.”



I learn a few things over the next several hours. Chinese take-out is better when you swap dishes with other people. When you get into a close conference with women they tend to drop down a button and loosen up their hair. Just because you are an excellent note taker doesn’t make you less of a man. Also, Sylvia Winton has some serious issues as in the woman is sexually twisted and demanding — the words S&M and nymphomaniac come up.



During a break I have to ask Peggy what a nymphomaniac is. For the life of me I can’t figure out why this is considered a disorder. Someone can want too much sex? Seriously? Peggy also stops me from taking a magazine and going to the bathroom for a little personal time. She tells me it is unprofessional, as is apparently begging Paulette to meet me in the storage room. I have never worked so much in one day my entire time in the company. I tell Peggy I won’t be in tomorrow. She tells me that I will. I show her who is boss. I cancel my plans for tomorrow.



I learn she has deceived me. I will be working Saturday, and Sunday too. I pull Peggy aside and tell her there must be some law against making people work on the weekend — at least rich people. She tells me those are Child Labor Laws, but they no longer apply to me. Apparently being child-like doesn’t qualify. Peggy says she had confidence in me. I don’t know why but that matters. I am so upset that I almost miss the decision that I will be a critical part of their plan. I think these people have lost their minds. I can’t be trusted to buy myself a birthday present I like.



(Later that Friday afternoon; end of the work week)



I come around my desk when Sylvia Winton walks in. She looks me over. My shirt is half unbuttoned and I’ve taken my shoes off. I resist the urge to throw myself out the window, which is good because I’m four stories up and Peggy says the glass is unbreakable. I’m supposed to be Man-candy which is another name for bait.



“You said you had something you needed my help with, Mr. Townsend?” she says with suspicion.



“Please, call you Joshua,” I say as I work a smile onto my face. “May I call you Sylvia?”



“You may call me Mrs. Winton for now,” she responds with a hint of interest.



“I would like to do things with you Mrs. Winton. Would you like to do things to me?” I offer.



“To you?”



“I feel … like I’ve been bad. You are such a powerful woman. Do you think I’ve been bad?”



Sylvia reacts by shutting and locking the door as she licks her lips.



“What makes you think I would do anything to you?” she smiles.



“I felt something when you came into my office yesterday. I’ve never felt anything like that before. You can teach me things; things I need to know. Can you teach me?” I tell her. This isn’t a total lie. I felt something yesterday when she came into the office — terror.



“I think you have been bad, Joshua and I think I should teach you how bad you’ve been,” she grins with a raw hunger that nearly sends me off my game.



“I have a new desk,” I gulp.



“I see that,” she says without taking her eyes off mine. Peggy says that I have to possess a certain look of fear to keep her interest. That is definitely not a problem.



“It has all kinds of places you can tie me down on. If I get scared you will let me up, right?”



“Of course I will, dear boy,” she purrs. Okay, I may be an idiot but even I know she’s lying. I fight to hold back the tears. Instead I back around to the side of the desk.



“Show me what this desk can do?” she continues.



I crawl backwards over the desk. Their plan starts coming apart when she grabs my legs and pulls me back. I fight the urge to kick out and flee to the bathroom. I whimper instead. I don’t like the look that crosses her face when I do that, not at all.



“Show me what you have, dear boy,” she tells me in this deep sultry voice.



I keep crawling back so fast that I lose track of where I am and almost fall off far side. She is staring hungrily at me, but not following. I don’t know why I say what I say next.



“I want you to go … now!” It is the truth. I’m at the end of my fear factor.



“You don’t tell me what to do anymore, Joshua. You will do what I tell you to do,” she growls huskily. She climbs up onto the desk and crawls cat-like towards me.



I turn so that my legs are beneath me but I’m still facing her.



“Don’t you dare run away,” she commands.



“I promise you I won’t,” I squeak. I can’t believe that this actually might work. Outside of this whole thing hinging on me, this really sounds like a good plan. Peggy tells me that I can do it.



“Let me show you something,” I tell Sylvia. I reach out and touch her hand. She gives me a sinister smile but keeps eye contact.



“You will be punished for touching me without permission.”



“Oh, I’m all for punishment,” I quip as I pop the latch and the first panel and it turns over. I push Sylvia’s wrist into the restraint which clicks shut.



“What are you …” she starts to say as I push her other hand into the other wrist restraint that has magically appeared.



“You little bastard,” she howls. I hop off the table and run beside her. She follows me with her head as she strains against the cuffs. I get the first ankle restraint up and successfully struggle to push her ankle in before she understands her true predicament.



“Let me go NOW!” she bellows in the most authoritative tone I’ve ever encountered. It almost stops me — almost. I wrestle her last ankle in with a great deal of fighting, but I do get it done. Now Sylvia is trapped on all fours on top of my new desk.



“I’ll break you for this,” she seethes.



“I imagine that this is your game plan,” I gulp as I move to the bathroom and open the door. Peggy, Cecilia, Walter, and Keisha walk in, each with one hand behind their back. Peggy moves quickly to my side and kisses me on the neck. I’m too exhausted to lean down for anything more.



Cecilia, Keisha, and Walter are all decked out in what Peggy calls bondage gear. They have a variety of toys and I don’t mean Tonka trucks. Sylvia’s look goes from unmitigated hate to hate mixed with fear.



“Walter, release me at once!” Sylvia commands. Walter flinches but Keisha squeezes his arm and he stiffens.



“You are about to get what you deserve … Sylvia,” he snarls.



“Don’t you dare you my name,” she snaps. “You don’t have my permission.”



“Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia,” chants Cecilia gaining strength with each recitation.



“You will all pay for this,” Sylvia threatens.



“Not very likely,” Peggy informs her. “You are ours for the weekend, and believe me there is a lot we can do to you in three days.”



“My husband …” Sylvia starts to say.



“Is on his way here now with a new set of clothes and toiletries. He’s happy to be rid of you. He’ll be even happier when you sign those divorce papers giving him the house and spousal support,” Peggy continues.



“He wouldn’t dare,” she says to us, but even I have a hard time believing her.



“Sylvia, when he saw the number of people arrayed against you, he gladly signed on,” Keisha gloats.



“Housekeeping?” Sylvia threatens hopefully.



“Charles agreed to do my whole section early today so he could get on with his weekend. Everyone was glad to help out. No one is coming in before eight o’clock Monday,” Peggy grins.



“I’ll be missed,” Sylvia keeps trying.



“By who?” Walter says. “Who likes you enough to do anything but thank their lucky stars that you aren’t around? No one.”



“You can’t do this to me,” she moans.



“We can and will,” Walter beams, “all weekend long, and do you know where we’ll start?” Sylvia gulps. Cecilia, Walter, and Keisha all produce long feathers from behind their backs.



“Wait,” Sylvia wails, “you can’t do this to me! You know how ticklish I am.”



“Yes,” the three grin, “we know.”



Peggy and I retreat the chairs closest to the door.



“How did you get the table here so fast?” I ask.



“I merely shopped around until I found where Sylvia got her custom gear and they had what we needed.”



“Oh,” I respond. What I meant was did they use one of those package delivery vans or a semi, but I don’t want to ask Peggy that again. I like big trucks. They are fun to ride in.



“Peggy where is my old desk?”



“Don’t worry Sport,” Peggy rubs my arm, “it is in one of our warehouses and they are scheduled to move it back in at nine o’clock Monday morning, so you can show up late if you like.”



“Will you be coming in late?” I inquire.



“No, I’ll be in at the normal time.”



“Can I sit at your desk until they finish in my office?” I ask. Peggy laughs softly.



“Yes, but you can’t play with the phone this time,” she warns me. I’m okay with that. I still have the computer. I can update my Face Book page and Tweet some college buds.



(Later that evening)



“I’ll … make … you all … pay,” Sylvia pants through her tears. Her voice is hoarse from laughter. She really is terribly ticklish. Even I took a turn rubbing a feather over her engorged nipples. Peggy is great. She keeps going to the bathroom and getting Sylvia water to sip and a towel to dry off the sweat of her body.



Walter has bagged up the clothes they cut off her body, which was as shame to do with her bra. It was a rich shade of pink and clearly well designed. I can’t imagine it is easy to get one in her size.



“Help me get her down to this side of the table,” Walter requests. I unfasten Sylvia from the desk panel, watching out for any reaction. Sylvia is too exhausted to put up more than token resistance. When we pull her down until she is bent over the desk, we affix her to a second set of bonds.



“Here you go Sylvia. We are going to grab some dinner and then we’ll get back to you,” Cecilia tells her. When those three retreat to the sofa to eat some Greek that Mr. Winton brought for us, I hear Sylvia whisper to me,



“Why are you doing this to me? The others I understand, but why you? I’ve never been bad to you.”



“You made people unhappy Sylvia,” I reply while I find my hand stroking her ass. It is nice and meaty, just the way it looked through her skirt. She flinches slightly until she realizes I’m not hurting her.



“Let me go and I’ll never do this again I promise you,” Sylvia pleads softly.



I’m not the smartest guy in the World, but apparently Peggy is.



“They told me you would say this to me,” I tell her. I keep stroking her large butt cheek. She sobs into the table. I lean over her until our faces nearly touch. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”



“My … my back itches where my bra was …” she whispers. I start scratching and massaging her upper back.



“Joshua, are you okay?” Peggy startles me as I didn’t know she’d moved up to my side.



“Sylvia’s back itched,” I respond, “so I figured I’d make her feel better.”



“Joshua we are here to make her very uncomfortable. She’s not here to enjoy things,” Peggy points out to me.



“When you guys finish eating I’ll stop,” I tell her. Peggy pats me on the shoulder and goes back to her meal.



“Is there anything else I can do for you before they come back?” I ask. Sylvia hesitates.



“My butt itches,” she mumbles.



“Which side?” Again Sylvia hesitates.



“Right down the middle,” she mumbles even quieter. I shrug. I began scratching at the start of the crack where the spine hit the ass. For the first thirty seconds or so I get no response but when I get right above the anus her ass starts to wiggle.



“Right there?” I ask. She nods her head. I suddenly notice that everyone is looking at us though Sylvia can’t see that. No one moves to stop me so I start scratching. Sylvia sighs.



“Lower,” she moans. I have to think about that. The thing right beneath my current area of attention is her asshole. If I was smarter I might be recalling what nymphomaniac meant.



I use on hand to separate her butt cheeks and begin making small circles around her anal ring. That elicits another moan so I take it a step further and push in. She’s tight and resisting but I persist. I stop and start pulling back out but her ass seems to grab hold of my finger and won’t let go. Sylvia rocks back and I go in further.



“Yes,” she whispers sensually. I feel my finger move past the ring and inside. I start wiggling it around and Sylvia reacts by rocks back and forth. I push in farther and she backs into me until I’m pressing my hand against her backside.

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