Message-ID: <29760asstr$986778603@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail Reply-To: "Ben Dover" From: "Ben Dover" X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V5.50.4133.2400 X-Original-Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 08 Apr 2001 16:01:56 PDT Subject: {ASSM} Inhuman Resources (M+F, M+F, solo, rough, cheat, interr, size, job, oral, anal) [1/?] Date: Sun, 8 Apr 2001 21:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, Vulpine INHUMAN RESOURCES [1/?] (M+F, M+F, solo, rough, cheat, interr, size, job, oral, anal) By Ben Dover Copyright (C) 2001 by Ben Dover. All Rights Reserved. This story is fiction and contains sexual content. If you are not of legal age in the state you live in to view such material or are offended by such material then you are forbidden from reading any further. Send all comments to Ben_Dover601@hotmail.com Scroll down to read text. Story starts in. .. 10 .. 9 .. 8 .. 7 .. 6 .. 5 .. 4 .. 3 .. 2 .. 1 .. At 35, Fran Moyer was in the best shape of her life. Up until the year before, she had always been an obese, mousy woman that nobody would look twice at - and if they did, it was to make fun of her. To date, she had only had three boyfriends, all in high school and college, and all three had looked like guys who were headed to a Star Trek convention. The sex with them had been terrible, so Fran was never terribly bothered by the fact that, as she had gotten older and fatter, men stopped asking her out altogether. She never felt as though she needed a man; after all, her career as a human resources manager for a mid-sized corporation kept her busy enough as it was, and a constantly growing collection of vibrators kept her other needs sated. Fran had decided to get into shape three years ago, after watching a makeover episode of Oprah that she had found to be particularly moving and poignant. (Fran had always made it a point to tape Oprah while she was at work, and then watch it at night while she ate a generous dinner. She found it to be empowering and comforting at the same time.) After two strict years of diet and exercise (during which she watched that same episode of Oprah every day), Fran had gotten her 5'6" frame down from a sweaty 220 lbs. to a slender 115 lbs. Her legs and ass were the equal of any model or actress, and the diet hadn't done a thing to shrink her now-magnificent C-cups. As she had lost weight and gotten into shape, she had also started putting more care into her physical appearance. Where she had formerly always stuck to a very business-like hairstyle and "large woman" fashions, she now made it a point to wear short skirts, high heels, and kept her blonde hair, green eyes, and softly chiseled face in the latest hair and make-up fashions. Each day, when she looked in the mirror, she now saw what she knew was the sexiest woman in her office, and she took pride in the fact that many of the men in the office seemed to feel the same way. As a result, Fran had continued to maintain her new health regime, and showed no signs of returning to her fatty ways. Naturally, her personal life had started to improve as well. She had been out with half a dozen men in the past year alone, and had even slept with two of them. After years of satisfying herself with larger and larger dildos and vibrators, though, she had found their 6-inch and 7-inch cocks to be less than satisfying, and had begun to think that men were incapable of satisfying a woman in bed. By the end of the day, Fran was going to find out just how wrong she was. *** The day had started off normally enough; checking reports, returning e-mails and voice mail messages, having her first cup of coffee. At a little after 10, Greg Bombadil, the human resources director, called her into his office. As she walked from her office to Greg's, she overheard two employees, Chris Kramer and Kyle Myers, by the coffee machine talking in hushed tones. ".heard they caught them in the stairwell," Myers was saying. Kramer whispered back, "Yeah, and she was giving him a blowjob - and that he had like a 12-inch dick!" Fran kept walking, but felt conflicting emotions as she did so. As the human resources manager, it upset her to hear two male employees who were obviously talking about a female co-worker who was supposedly caught giving someone a blowjob in the building's stairwell. Not only were they using offensive language, but they were rumoring about an event that, whether it was true or not, could seriously damage the reputation of the female co-worker. Because of that, she was going to have to call the two of them into her office once she got done meeting with Greg, so that she could remind them about proper workplace behavior. As a woman nearing the peak of her sexuality, however, their talk excited her - especially the part about a 12-inch cock. Fran had never heard of such a thing, much less ever seen one. She thought something that big only came in the plastic battery-operated variety. And to think that something - er, someone - like that could be working right here in the office with her. Fran had never gone down on a man before; she always found the idea to be degrading. But the thought of going down on some monstrous cock in a dirty stairwell was doing things to her. How could you even get something that big in you mouth, she wondered. Fran snapped to as she walked through Greg's open office door, feeling slightly ashamed by the growing dampness that she felt in her panties. Greg was in his late 40s, and kept himself more or less in shape despite his impressive potbelly. He was a happily married man, and, as far as Fran knew, had never cheated on his wife - at the very least, he had never made a play for her, even after she had developed into a knockout. As Fran walked in, he looked up from a sheet of paper on her desk and smiled. "Come on in, Fran," he said, "and close the door behind you. I've got a weird one for you to take care of." Fran shut the door and sat down, feeling a bolt of panicked excitement travel up her spine at Greg's words. She suddenly had a strong feeling that this "weird one" was going to have something to do with what she had heard Myers and Kramer talking about. "What's going on, Greg?" she asked. Greg chuckled, and handed the sheet of paper over to her. "Well, it turns out that the purchasing director, Bill Shamus, started a new exercise regime last week that involves him spending half of his lunch hour running up and down the stairs. Yesterday, he started his routine and made it to the third floor landing where he came upon two employees who were engaged in an act of oral sex. Or rather, one was engaged, while the other one was receiving." Fran felt her heartbeat increase as she tried to focus on the sheet of paper in her hands. It was a report that detailed Bill Shamus' report of the incident, Greg's input as to what sort of disciplinary action should be taken, and a number of signatures of approval. According to the report, upper management had taken Greg's suggestion to place both employees on 90 days probation with the standard lecture on proper workplace behavior - and to warn them that any further transgression of the codes of the employee handbook would be met with immediate termination. The very fact that she was in his office told Fran that Greg had decided to have her handle the actual lecture and warning. "I assume you want me to talk to them," said Fran. There was an incredible heat between her legs, and she found it hard to concentrate as Greg replied. "Not to both of them, no," he said. "But I do want you to talk to the male.it turns out that you're actually the one who hired him, so you've already got that connection. I'm going to talk to the girl myself. That way, neither one of us has to spend our whole day on this mess." "No problem," Fran said, as she got up to go. "I should have time to talk to him right after lunch." "Good enough," Greg said, returning to the paperwork on his desk. "Oh, and Fran!" he added, without looking up. "Yes?" she said, turning back around. "Try to keep a straight face while you do it," he said with a grin. "I don't know if I'll be able to or not." *** Fran walked as quickly as she could back to her office, noticing that Kramer and Myers were by this time already back at their desks, performing their daily duties. She shut the door behind her and locked it as she entered, and closed the blinds to the wall-length windows that were on either side of her door. She collapsed in her overstuffed office chair, closed her eyes, and stuck her right hand down in her panties. The human resources manager bit her lower lip to keep from moaning as her index finger found her moist clit. As overheated as she was from thinking about strange men with 12-inch cocks getting sucked off in a stairwell, of thinking what a monstrous thing like that would feel like inside of her, it took her less than two minutes to bring herself to an intense orgasm. As she squirmed on the leather seat, her face muscles contorted and she grunted in a barely audible tone. She was shocked at how out of control she was; she never even thought about masturbating at work before, much less done it. And her she was, a manager with her company, locking herself in her office and grunting like some kind of slut pig as she brought herself off. Fran quickly composed herself. She sprayed a little perfume, straightened out her skirt, and opened her office door. Upon returning to her desk, she looked at the report again, and noticed the employees' names for the first time. The female was Kim Fuget, a two-year employee down in customer service. Fran didn't recognize her right off, but a quick search of the company's employee database revealed her to be 24 years old, Caucasian, and married. The male had only been with the company for two months, and Fran recognized his name instantly: Brandon Palmer. Fran did remember interviewing him for his position in janitorial services, and remembered him to be a well-built, well-mannered young man, if not overly intelligent or good-looking. Fran remembered being struck by the shiny blackness of his skin, a color that truly did seem to live up to the stereotype of being so black it was blue. Brandon had worn shabby clothes to the interview, and had told Fran that he was the sole provider for his mother and three younger children, as his father had left them when Brandon was only 10. At the age of 19, Brandon was so massive, almost rocky in appearance that it was already hard to imagine him ever having been a child. Fran had always been a firm believer in assisting minorities, and had been glad to hire Brandon for the job. And now, a mere two months later, she was going to have to sit down and talk to him again. Only this time, the circumstances weren't so pleasant. That, and she certainly knew quite a bit more about the young man then she had before - certainly more than she thought was good for her. *** By the time Kim showed up at Greg's office, she had been crying for the better part of the day. Still, Greg couldn't help but notice that Kim was a very pretty girl, with long red hair, blue eyes, huge tits, and a knockout, if skinny, body. As the younger woman only stood 5'2 inches tall, and had an almost girl-like figure, Greg couldn't believe that this little thing had allegedly stuffed a 12-inch dick into her mouth. The older man was ashamed and surprised by the stiffening that he felt between his legs at this sordid thought. "Come in, Kim," Greg said to the girl. "And please, close the door behind you. We've got a lot to talk about." At this, Kim started crying again. She closed the door and took a seat in the chair opposite Greg's desk. "I am so sorry, Mr. Bombadil," the girl said. "I am so, so sorry. I swear to God I will never do nothing like that again." A large snot bubble forced its way out of her left nostril, and burst on her upper lip. "Please compose yourself, Kim," Greg said, feeling genuine compassion for the girl. Well, they do say to stay out of the kitchen if you can't stand the heat, he thought. Still, Greg was shocked to find that he was aroused at the sight of how her body-wracking sobs caused her magnificent D-cups to heave up and down. Despite his wishes, his cock continued to harden as he tried to imagine what her fat, fleshy jugs would look likenaked. "Are you going to fire me?" she asked. Her sobbing increased, and she put her head down. "Please don't fire me, please don't." Greg stood up, and grabbed a few tissues from the dispenser on his desk. He walked to the crying girl and offered them to her. "There now," he said, "I wouldn't." As Kim looked up, her gaze fell on the stiffness in Greg's pants. She looked Greg right in the eye, and snorted the dripping snot back into her nose. "Please, Mr. Bombadil. I'll suck you off, too, if you don't fire me. Is that what you want?" Greg looked at her, stunned. He had no intention of firing her. He wasn't even authorized to do so if he wanted to. But the girl thought, no, seem convinced that he could.and she was the one who had made the offer. "I'll suck you off real good, too," she said, seeing the hesitation in his eyes. "I'll even let you fuck me. You can fuck me in the mouth, in the pussy, you can fuck me in my ass, Mr. Bombadil." With this, she reached her hand out and started caressing his hardness through the soft material of his pants. "Let me make you happy," she said, sliding down to her knees. In 23 years of marriage, Greg Bombadil had never cheated on his wife. Sure, he had thought about it, but up until now he had never actually gone through with it - much less with an employee of the company for which he was the director of human resources. This is madness, he thought to himself. You're a happily married father of two.you could lose everything over this trashy slut! But at the sight of young Kim Fuget down on her knees, her delicate hand wrapped around the solid log between his legs, something inside him snapped. "Well now," Greg said, his voice husky and his breath ragged with lust as his kind look of concern melted into one of pure animal lust and scorn, "let's just see how much you want to keep your job, you slut." *** Brandon Palmer's powerful frame stood in the doorway to Fran's office, with no outward sign of emotion on his face. He rapped his knuckles on the frame in a slow, almost taunting fashion. "You wanted to see me, Mizz Moyer?" he said. "Yes, come in Brandon," she said, motioning for him to close the door. "I'm sure you know what this is about." "No, I don't know," he said, his face a blank slate. "I don't get this at all. What did I do wrong?" Fran cleared her throat, unsure if Brandon was playing some kind of game, or if he really was too stupid to understand that receiving oral gratification in the stairwell at work was a no-no. "Well, Brandon," she said, as Brandon took a seat, "it seems that one of our directors, Mr. Shamus, came across you and a Kim Fuget in the stairwell yesterday, correct?" "I don't know who this Mr. Shamus is," Brandon said, a slow grin spreading across his features, "but I know Kim. I know her real good now." "Right," Fran said. "Well, as I'm sure you remember, you and Kim were apparently engaged in a sexual act in the stairwell, and Mr. Shamus witnessed this act. Brandon, that type of behavior is specifically forbidden by the employee handbook, which you were issued." Brandon laughed. "Shit, Ms. Moyer, I can't read," he said. "Even if I could, I wouldn't read no employee handbook. What is this sexual act that Shamus says we was doing?" Fran was taken aback at Brandon's language, and stuttered as she replied. "Well, Brandon, first of all, crude language is not acceptable in an office environment, either. And, ah, Mr. Shamus says that Mrs. Fuget and yourself were engaged in an act of, ah, oral sex." Beneath her desk, Fran's knees knocked together, and she felt her cunt heating up for the second time that day. Brandon smiled, and looked confused. "Oral sex?" he said, dumbly. "What's that?" Fran didn't quite know what to say. "It's ah, well, I don't see.Brandon, you know what you were doing." Brandon stood up, walked across the office, and leaned his 6'5" frame against her desk. He was looking directly into Fran's eyes, but Fran didn't notice - her eyes were locked on the deformed tree trunk that had appeared in Brandon's brown janitorial pants, lengthening down his leg like a long balloon. "Yeah, I know what we was doing," Brandon said. "That little bitch was sucking my cock when that old dude walked up on us. What you think about that?" Fran was breathing heavily, and her left hand unconsciously traveled down to her lap. "Brandon, please. You're, ah, you're language." Brandon's grin increased, and he began lightly brushing his thick fingers against the outline of his cock as he swayed his hips back and forth obscenely. His movements had the effect of hypnotizing Fran. She could feel all sense of who and where she was drifting away, replaced with a deep, burning need. "Oh, you like what you looking at, don't you Ms. Moyer?" Brandon said. "You look just like all women do when they see it, like a bitch in heat. Yeah, you look like you wanting to suck some of that yourself." "Brandon, you," Fran said, her head rushing with a thousand illicit thoughts. Her left hand had slowly started moving back and forth in her lap. "Stop. Stop talking to me like that." "Fuck you," Brandon said, sneering. He started walking behind the desk towards Fran, his hard cock throbbing like a rocket in his pants. "You just like every other woman I ever met. Everytime one of you bitches sees what I got, you got to have it in you. You got the look, the same look they all get, the same look my sisters and momma get, the same look that little Kim got. That's the look you got now." Fran's mouth gaped, but no sound came out. She sat there, transfixed. She was beaten, and she knew it. Finally, a low, soft moan escaped her lips, and she closed her eyes. "Now take it out, bitch," Brandon said. He stuck his hand out, and grabbed hold oh her jaw, poking his index finger up past her lips as though he were a plantation owner inspecting a slave. "Gonna fuck you like you ain't never been fucked before, Fran. Today you gonna learn, that you mine now." *** Little Kim Fuget had been down on her knees slobbering on Greg's 7-inch dick for a good 10 minutes now, treating it like as if it were the best tasting lollipop she had ever had. Greg had long since stripped her of her blouse and bra, and stood there kneading the girl's mammoth tits as she sucked him off, pinching her hard, brown silver dollar-sized nipples between his thumb and forefinger. For Greg's part, he had never had a blowjob that could even compare to what he was getting now. "Oh, you little slut," he moaned. "Oh my god, that's it. That's the way to do it." Kim was fingering herself furiously as Greg pumped her face, sliding his tube in and out of her greedy mouth. Kim had sampled many cocks in her lifetime, and was widely regarded by her lovers as a championship cocksucker. After her workout the other day on Brandon's monster cock, she was having no trouble deepthroating Greg's smaller rod. As his balls bounced off her chin, she stared up at his eyes and batted her eyelashes at him. "Get up!" he barked, pulling his cock out of her mouth and slapping her face with it a few times. "Get up on that desk on all fours, you bitch!" "What are you going to do to me, Mr. Bombadil?" she asked in the girliest voice she could muster. "Are you going to stick that big thing in me?" "Shit!" he said. "You're god damn right! Gonna fuck you in the ass, you little bitch! Fuck!" He smacked her ass hard, and stepped in closer as she squealed with delight. Greg knew he was out of control, but there was no going back now. As the girl propped herself up with her ass in the air, Greg pushed stacks of paper off the desk and mounted her from behind, covering her mouth with his left hand as he guided his cock towards her brown shithole. He spit on her rosebud, and started to force his cockhead in. The girl moaned, and bit down on his palm. "Oh, fuck," she moaned through his fingers. "Yeah, Mr. Bombadil. Fuck me, fuck me in the ass." It was too much for him, as Greg lunged forward, shoving all 7-inches of his cock deep into her ass. As he did this, he wrapped his right hand around her mouth as well, and began forcing her back on his cock as he started pumping in and out of her. It was the first time he'd ever taken a woman like this, and the tight clenching motion of her dirty shitter had his mind reeling. He began to grunt like an animal, beads of sweat dripping off his flabby body as he pounded her mercilessly. "You fucking bitch," he moaned. "Oh, you fucking cunt. How you like that? How you like it, you bitch?" "Uh, I, oh, fuck me, Mr. Bombadil," she panted as she furiously rubbed at her clit. Kim was nearing orgasm now, and she wanted Greg to cum with her. "Fuck my ass, fuck, cum in me, I want you to cum in me with your big cock!" "God damn right!" Greg barked, his face a mask of animal rage as he fucked her tight ass for all he was worth. He wrapped his hands around Kim's neck, throttling her as forced his cock down her shit tunnel as deep as it would go. "Fuck! Fuck you! Fuckin' cumming, I'm cumming!" "YES!" Kim screamed, exploding in an orgasmic fury as she felt Greg's hot, slippery cum wash over her steaming bowels. "AHHHHHHHH!!" The noise of Kim and Greg's lovemaking had prevented them from hearing the persistent knock that was coming from Greg's closed, but not locked, office door. Just as the last of Greg's spunk wormed it's way out into Kim's ass, Jason Sitwell, Greg's administrative assistant, opened the door and walked in. -- End part one. Ben Dover -- Would you like to see part two and beyond? Please e-mail all comments, criticisms, etc., to Ben_Dover601@hotmail.com. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. <1st attachment begin> <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ ------- ASSM Moderation System Notice-------- This post has been reformatted by the ASSM Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+