Company Picnic

"Now that Mr. James and Mr. Granger are cleaned out, we're going to play two more exciting games with them. 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 high crossbar. The cross bar was connected to the metal support pipes with a ratchet device. "Mr. James come over here," said Kathleen. "Pretend like you're at the gym and get underneath this cross bar." Mr. James didn't do anything. 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. Just stand there for 15 minutes and you win, Mr. James. Then it's Mr. Granger's turn."

The sound of a car approaching made her stop. When the engine was turned off, a man got out walked toward the group.

"Hello, Mr. Bigwood, right on time," said Kathleen. "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. 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. One of them shocked everyone by using her mouth.

"Lift your head up, Mr. James, and feel the weight of the bar. It's as light as a feather, isn't it? It's 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. It's only up to your knees, Mr. James, 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.

"If you hold that bar up for 15 minutes, you win and we're done for the afternoon. We don't even get to play my last 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 your head again, it will drop to a lower level.

"Of course, if that happens, you'll have to start squatting down and getting closer to those sharp splinters. 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. I told you Mr. Bigwood was a professional. Look at him now, Mr. James. He's certainly ready.

"If you have to spread your legs and stick your butt out, you've got to be careful, because Mr. Bigwood will be right behind you. 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. He lives right in town." There was a lot of giggling now among the women.

"Don't get distracted when you're avoiding the splinters and stick your ass too far out or Mr. Bigwood may end up inside of you. If that happens within 15 minutes, you lose the game and get to play our last one. Okay, we're ready to start."

The women moved Mr. James into position. He grabbed hold of the metal pipes, but he had trouble holding on because there was something oily on them. The women gathered around him 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. Though he wasn't close to the splinters, 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, not threatening, but 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, 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. This time he was careful not to drop his head.

"Ten minutes," said Kathleen. "Good work, Mr. James. Now let us distract you. 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. Then 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. 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, then his 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."

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 and Mr. Bigwood 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.

Kathleen told Mr. Bigwood to sit on the edge of the mattress. "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.

"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. 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.

"Okay, 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 jerking and moaning as he was filled up, which brought laughter and some clapping from the ladies. 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.

"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, whose 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 and made some lube trickle out. He managed to steady himself.

"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. 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. 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 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. 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. One of the women came over and 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 as she held 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 it. 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, so 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. 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? You can think about it and tell us tomorrow morning. The other item of business involves Viveca. We'll 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. 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. It would just have been 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 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."