BUNSNUB: Another Love Story Ch. 05

Story Info
Another Love Story.
3.9k words
4.08
8.1k
1
0

Part 5 of the 16 part series

Updated 08/30/2017
Created 12/16/2014
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Chapter Five: Fuckin' Luncheon 'Chump' Butt Steak

I found myself in the corridor again, jumped on and assaulted by bold stares and comments while awaiting another elevator. Ms. Rocksand was somewhat talkative, intimately inquisitive and foul-mouthed. In front of at least two other employees, there may have been some I couldn't see, she asked me how long it had been since I last ejaculated. She gave a strong tug on my panties, to help with my expected response.

I couldn't see Ms Rocksand, which forced me to speak as if orating from a stump. Try as I may, my words arrived in quiet sputters barely understood by anyone. I was made to repeat them louder and with more clarity. With great trepidation I announced to all... No, I confessed to my first 'authentic' secret to the world. I spoke of my first meaningful encounter as if it were a sleazy affair. I was coaxed into telling everyone about the wonderful bonus Ms. Handlesmen had awarded me yesterday.

Ms. Rocksand, this mean rude lady, had me gurgling out all the details. She bombarded me with intimate questions I never answered loud enough. I sputtered out my short, but deeply personal story. I described the way Ms. Handlesmen allowed me to use her hand while I knelt on the floor before her. I realized these women would allow me no personal secrets, and with some hesitations talked on. I mumbled and repeated through the exclamations whispers and snickers that echoed about the room. My pretty admirers demanded self-degradation and extracted the desired results. They even swooned to my verbal renditions of, "pumping myself in her soft hand." I bore their charges and my confessions as hot flashes surging through my body as energy igniting me from head to toe. And I spoke to them again and again, of my first 'real' orgasm.

The corridor fell silent every time I came to recollecting that orgasm, and then on the final sigh, all the women burst out into laughter. I couldn't believe it. Disgraced, I was turning my head and my eyes every which way, not knowing where to look. I even tried seeing nothing but the depth of my tears. I was leaving a deep mosaic of those as they settled along with my saliva and sweat on the surface of my collar. Because the collars construction was more a bowl then a flat surface, the excretions collected around my neck as a moat.

"You're a very lucky boy, Joey," Ms. Rocksand finally said sarcastically. Several mordant voices agreed with her immediately. "If you continue to fuckin' behave yourself, I believe you'll be receiving many such fukin' rewards," she said with a sly twist in her voice. Those thoughts caused my penis to twitch and jump out over the top of my extended panties in excitement. Ms. Rocksand and the others found its actions adorable. With continued acidity they commented about how handsome they found my cock to be. I smiled unseen and looked down at my waterproof collar, at the smooth, crisp, unbelievable fabric. Then I looked to the tops of heads and some eyes looking back, seeking to enjoy my shame. Ms. 'Foulmouth' went so far as to suggest Ms. Handlesmen may allow her the pleasure of providing me with my next bonus, if I merit one. Though it seemed everyone laughed, the thought made my eyebrow to rise and excited me terribly, I only wished I had the nerve to say something. I wouldn't have minded if a woman had come forward right there and then and whisked me away. I half expected that to be the way it would happen. The way I would find a mate.

Again the elevator was crowded with bold women, probing eyes and long nailed fingers that made my skin crawl and my cock drool. I was alone on the top of the world, living with the tops of heads. I was visited by dozens of curious ice-laden eyes, boldly peeking over the edge of my collar. Those eyes chased mine to the ceiling, from corner to corner and along the seams of the elevators walls. I listened to the lewd comments and humiliating conversation that easily kept blush in my face. Words and expectations that drove me to run and hide, which I couldn't do, even out of fear. And to my surprize enough of me found it wonderful; enough to keep me from rousing in indignation. For some reason my hands obeyed my penis, as did almost every other part of me. I was growing slowly accustomed to everything; well almost, I still had a way to go; my childhood guilt could not be erased in a day.

I discovered my sore ass well fondled this morning and investigated as well as slapped. And this time I heard a woman spit and her finger, and the next thing I knew a finger's worming its way into my asshole and I'm on my toes bouncing between hands and elbows. I slapped my palms to my thighs and grit my teeth. I cringed while surrendering to another painful, very intimate attack. I could feel nothing but humiliation as the women concerned themselves with my organs vibrations. They discused its lubrication, which they encouraged with the tips of their fingers. I must have produced lubricant most prodigiously, because all women took notice of it and all were pleased. The entire elevator was soon laughing and I looked around in futility. Again, I darted to the ceiling for privacy and self-pity. I was dizzy, my head was very hot and decorated with long rivulets of perspiration I could do nothing about.

Although I hadn't noticed before, the scents and perfumes worn by the women were quite stimulating. Quite unexpectedly my nose 'turned-on' and began its own process of feminine appreciation. I figured it was due to maturity and I'd cleared another hurdle. It only made sense, that there were many appreciation's for me to discover. Most likely natural steps in male development toward the opposite sex and I saw no reason to think otherwise. I had yet to detect a fragrance that offended and their combinations were amusement park rides for my olfactory nerves. They were truly captivating fragrances I sought to enjoy. I reacted to their chemical emissions by relaxing my body, forgetting my problems and floating in a cloud of abnormal arousal.

There must have been one hundred women in the cafeteria and every one of them must have stopped moving, eating and talking, to watch me enter. The two longest walls faced buildings across the street and were entirely of crystal clear glass. I almost felt as if I were out of doors and was hit with another dizzy spell. I could picture the windows of every building around us filling with faces. Mortification ripped me apart like two teams of elephants using me in a tug-of-war and I made the mistake of allowing my instincts to get the better of me. I flushed through a series of bright emergency reds and balked, hesitated, froze. Then out of stupidity, moved my hands in a childish attempt to cover some small part of my body. Ms. Rocksand transformed instantly, from a serious college graduate under control, to a raving battle-ax, a leather clad nun.

"Who the fuck do you think you, are touching yourself in public. How dare you fuckin' embarrass me in front of other women," she screamed between fuming and clenching her jaw. "Fellow sorority sisters at that, ya' little twat. How fuckin' dare you!"

Swat! Swat!...Swat! Swat! Ms. Rocksand slapped both my hands down and away from my crotch while screaming in my face.

"Fuckin' Look at me ya' little shit, fuckin' tip the collar and look at me when I'm talking to you." She waited for our eyes to connect before continuing. "I expect you to fuckin' behave yourself in public. Do you understand me, ya' fukin' sperm eating wimp. You can't believe how mortified I am and how deeply you've hurt me. You've hurt me in front of the people I have to face everyday," she continued with a carefully directed scream. It was the dynamic discharge given an unruly child, caught misbehaving by an irate mother. It came with a warning and a promise of a sound spanking immediately following lunch. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm sorry Ms. Rocksand, ma'am," I said in apology. "I...I...I...ju...," I began stuttering as best I could under the circumstances, but Ms. Rocksand would hear none of it.

She stood straight, with her arms at her sides, her fists clenched. Steam blew out of her ears and she looked mad enough to kill me. Her eyes tore mine to shreds and I could feel her devouring my insides. Then she took a couple deep breaths and composed herself, knowing the rooms silence was for our benefit. Every lady was staring at us and I felt especially humiliated standing naked before so many. I was in such a ridiculous outfit and with my penis so rigid, throbbing and drooling as never before.

"Listen, pussy! You will learn to fuckin' behave yourself in front of women and especially in front of me, dammit! You've fuckin' embarrassed me to no fukin' end, turd breath. I do not plan on fuckin' forgetting it ever! Just be fuckin' thankful I don't spank you right here and now," Ms. Rocksand hissed vehemently. She turned in a slow collected way.

"I'm sorry," I murmured in a whisper, one last time. I scurried along as she yanked me into a slow moving line.

"Little problem there," some woman asked of Ms. Rocksand. The voice came from somewhere nearby and Ms. Rocksand ignored it by yanking on the panties ring. She too knew that the material was indestructible and how to use it in controlling me.

"Need some help with that boy," another anonymous voice echoed. There followed a quick flurry of snide comments that reminded me of my high school days. I was always called names and picked on back then. I could tell Ms. Rocksand was not at all happy about them and I didn't need to see her face. I began to fret about the promised punishment.

Ms. Rocksand led me into a line moving along food tables, picked up a tray and placed it on the ledge. She showed my hand where it was so I could push it along. Then she used the panties ring to lift me to my toes and together we moved slowly along. She choose this afternoons fare as I performed ballet and was tormented by the woman behind me.

The stranger kept running her spoon between my legs after dipping it in a glass filled with ice water. I was kept jumping and jerking around in Ms. Rocksands grasp, to everyone's amusement. Of course there was nothing I could do about it and after my last mistake, wouldn't even think of it. Others in line joined the woman behind me, with the pointed ends of cold vegetables, icecubes, and mushy things, all while I struggled with composure. They kept me in a very uncomfortable condition, but then, this day had been one long uncomfortable lifetime. An eternity I both hated and loved. When Ms. Monroe had told me the place would teach me all I'd need to know about women, I had no idea what she meant. I had no idea there was so much to learn. Women are so complex this must be something they put all their men through..., I was most convinced.

The smell of food was a heaven scent. I was starving and couldn't wait to be fed, even if it meant being spoon fed like a baby. My stomach was growling from the hunger.

I carried our tray as Ms. Rocksand steered us to an empty table for four. I placed the tray onto the table and then she instructed me on how to hold the chair when she sat. Then I sat down near her, dropping my hands to my sides, as ordered. I looked around and could see everyone looking back at me, hundreds of eyes. I took a couple deep breaths and pretended everything was fine. I was almost glad to be seated. "Sit up straight ya' stupid fuck!" Ms. Rocksand said sternly, loud enough for those around us to hear. I jumped and wiggled into the proper posture. "Straighter boy, get your fuckin' spine straight," she yelled. My eyes dashed around from gawking face, to gawking face and then back to her as I tried to comply. "Feet fuckin' flat on the ground and no fuckin' fidgeting, I fuckin' loathe fidgeting, fuckin' fidgeters! God! What a peanut you are," she ranted on and on. "And hold your fuckin' head high, keep your fuckin' chin up so everyone can have a good look at you. Act like a fuckin' proper boy. How do you ever hope to become a man, or find a lady friend?" You can be sure I moved to comply, it was unavoidable. It was so easy and so natural for me to obey. Though I still didn't really understand why Ms. Handlesmen was having me put through this, I knew she must have had a damn good reason. I knew I loved her and for me that was all that mattered.

"Really Joey, you gotta fuckin' learn to pay more attention to me. Or else I'll fuckin' tell Ms. Handlesmen about your fuckin' indiscretion and she wouldn't be very fuckin' happy with you. Huh! You wouldn't want to lose out on a fuckin' bonus. Would you poop face?" Her statement stopped me flat and I sunk like a barrel of cement in a lake. The thought made me sick to my stomach. I would rather die, then miss a bonus. How many men have gotten a bonus the first day of work?

Ms. Rocksand used a fork and knife to cut through her lettuce a couple of times. With the edge of a spoon she chopped my oatmeal into milk. She began with her salad, a small forkful of crispy greens coated with a creamy garlic dressing. She spoon-fed me a tepid wad of thick oatmeal, devoid of all but a drop of milk. She didn't mind smearing it on my chin. I was hungry enough to eat it, but I didn't enjoy it. Ms. Rocksand enjoyed a forkful of spaghetti wound delicately round her trident, then drenched in sauce and dipped in Parmesan cheese. I received another mouthful of, not quite as hot, oatmeal. It arrived as all others, in the same messy fashion. Because I was now sitting, I could easily see every woman passing by and wondered how I must look to them.

My eyes were puffed and swollen, my face red, tear streaked and smeared with oatmeal. My head was centered on a flesh-toned platter, ready to be served like a turned out mold of Pate' de Foie Gras, or fresh headcheese. These women didn't need a spatula to serve me, I was a freshly opened baboon brain and they wielded their eyes like knives, forks and spoons. But, they all looked so unbelievably nice to me, so many beautiful women in one place, at one time. It was a terrible burden on my selfish and over active libido.

"So Joey, I hear you were a fuckin' virgin until recently, when Ms. Handlesmen provided you with your first sexual experience. I fukin' hear she took your fuckin' virginity with her fukin' one hand," Ms. 'Foulmouth' said looking up at me. She was placing another small forkful of pasta into her mouth. I'd never heard a woman swear so much and she chewed her food with her mouth open. I watched another fork of semolina disappeared between her lips, then reappeared over and over again. I figured she wanted to hear the story again as entertainment while she dined.

"Ah...yes ma'am...," I replied meekly. I noticed women at other tables listening. I began reiterating the story of my first sexual experience. I guessed everyone knew everything about me anyway and probably more than I did. Why was I not surprised? Had I really imagined adulthood would be any different then childhood? I'd foolishly hoped it would be. I washed down my exciting story with spoonfuls of oatmeal.

"I bet you're fuckin' in love with Ms. Handlesmen's hand Joey, aren't you," Ms. Rocksand butted in, continuing in sarcasm. I nearly choked on the gruel and her words. I swallowed without enjoying and made to answer her question. "Well, fuckin' answer me ya' little pussy!"

"Ah...yes...ma'am," I had to admit, to all the women around us.

"Let me hear you fuckin' say, 'I'm in love with Ms. Handlesmen's hand'," she coaxed. I swallowed hard, looked at the staring faces around me and then to the ceiling. How did I get into this and what was I to do? Was there no limit to degradation? I adjusted to the heat, looked into her eyes and found my voice.

"Oh please, must I," I pleaded quietly The lower my voice became, the quieter the cafeteria became. After my question, I turned to find all eyes on me and many of the women standing for a better view. Everyone wanted to hear me admit it.

"Now," Ms. Rocksand shouted in a way that made me jump out of the stillness.

"Oh..." My eyes scanned the vicinity, continually chased from person to person by cold bold stares. I came back to Ms. Rocksand resigned. "I'm in love with Ms. Handlesmen's hand," I stated quickly, in quiet resignation. I turned an even brighter red then I was and flooded with even hotter flashes. I brought my shoulders and knees together in a shiver and wished my chin could hide in the nook of my own arm.

"You know Joey," Ms. Rocksand continued, pushing another small spoonful of mush into my reluctant mouth. "You'll make some fuckin' lucky lady a fine husband someday. You're a fuckin' dream come true. I mean it, as a women whose already gone through a couple dozen fuckin' males, I know what I'm fuckin' talking about. I'm talking from fuckin' experience." It seemed that many women at other tables were nodding their heads and I hoped it was because of me.

I pondered her crudely worded statement, while chewing the mush...Me married? Or was that 'fuckin' married'. I prayed it would happen and looked at what prayer had gotten me. I've heard it said, 'there's somebody for everybody',...But for me? I swallowed the thinned-out wad. It ran down my throat like a single wad of mucus and I momentarily pondered the meaning of fuckin'. I thought I knew the meaning and hoped I did, but wondered.

"After we've eaten I'll take you to the fuckin' washroom where I'll let you piss. Maybe take a fuckin' crap and then I'll administer the fuckin' spanking you've earned. You do understand that I'm doing this for your own fuckin' good," Ms. Rocksand said like my mom always had. Of course, I nodded in agreement.

She talked and fed me between her own mouthfuls, nodding or greeting other ladies who passed. I tried hard to avoid the heated stares of the women around us, but we had such an excellent view of each other it was impossible. My poor penis would not relax and I began to believe it never again would. Maybe it was the duty of a man to stay hard all of the time, in a state of ready for his woman. Then maybe I was a man. I remembered hearing there were other males employed at Biprods Incorporated, but I'd yet to see a single other.

At one point, a couple of ladies stopped to chat with Ms. Rocksand. The younger one had short light-brown hair and the older one's was frosted. Neither women had big breasts, but like all the others they were beautiful. They moved in on each side of me, both looking down at my head even while talking with Ms. Rocksand. Ms. 'Foulmouth' ate her lunch and conversed with the ladies, ignoring what they did to me.

The older lady's hand arrived at my head first. It came to my mouth bathing my senses in a tart perfume laced with enchanting undertones. One of her long fingers wheedled itself inside, nail first. I parted my lips to allow it access and it slid easily between them, then it began moving in and out. I kept my eyes lowered, as the lady used my mouth with a finger I discovered to be coated in a dried substance. The crusty material soaked up my saliva and turned to a syrup I could then chew and swallow, which I did. It had a slightly tart, but bitter taste I could learn to enjoy, especially with a bowl of cold oatmeal. The younger lady snickered and followed the elders lead. Soon I had a pair of fingers in my mouth.

"Doesn't it look cute sucking on our fingers mama," she said. The drool elicited by their fingers ran down my chin and dripped to the moat accumulating in the collar around my neck. The younger ones fingers had definitely been in something filthy and just a short time ago. I looked up into the grinning faces, wondering what it was these ladies were up to.

I didn't care about their conversation and concentrated on their flavorful fingers. The older lady became bolder and pushed her finger to the back of my throat, causing me to gag around the digits. This caused me to secrete thick wads of saliva she pulled from my mouth with her fingers and rubbed onto my face. The younger one had to try it also and almost had me vomiting. Her hand sought to make me retch over and over again, till my face was red and my eyes were bulging to the discomfort. She wanted to see how close she could bring me to vomiting without allowing it. Her mom continued collecting my saliva and smearing it around on my face. By the time they were done, I was a sputtering cry baby, my face dripping in saliva and tears. Both women wiped their fingers off on my shoulders before leaving.

12