Customer Satisfaction

Author's note:

I daydreamed the idea for this story after navigating AT&T's voicemail system, waiting and waiting, and spending a long time with a representative who explained that they had no plans to do what they had promised they would. What would deter such behavior on the part of so-called customer service representatives?

This is entirely a work of fantasy, with no relationship to real-world events or constraints—except for the ongoing, continuing real-world deterioration in customer service.

I hope that you enjoy it.

Rodney Goodman walked into the car dealership, passing a sign which said, "Belchfire Motors. I guarantee your complete satisfaction. J. P. Bulgebottom, President." He went through another door into the parts department, going to the end of the line. When his turn came, he presented two pieces of paper to the woman behind the counter.

"Last week I placed this order for the part described, which I need so I can fix my car. It won't run without it. I was promised that it would arrive on Friday at the latest. But here it is Tuesday, and it hasn't arrived. Here is the latest tracking information." He pointed to the other piece of paper, which he had printed at home. "For some reason, it seems my part has gone to Houston and stayed there since Wednesday."

The woman did things at her computer. She said, "I'm truly sorry this has happened, sir. I will follow up and find out what is going on. We should be able to have your part to you by tomorrow, one way or another. If it is not, the part will be free, when it does arrive. We take full responsibility for your trouble. Please go to our Customer Service department to receive satisfaction, sir."

She tore a form off her printer and handed it to him, gesturing to a door marked "Customer Service." He went through the door to another counter. The very attractive young woman behind the counter took the form from him, looked at it, and scanned the bar code. "Mr. Goodman, sir, we are sorry that you are having this difficulty. May I provide you with satisfaction? Or is there some other member of our staff whom you would prefer?" She gestured to a large poster on the wall. It contained names and photographs of staff members, organized by department.

Goodman looked at the poster, and then said drily, "There seem to be some notable omissions."

"Sir, I assure you that all of our eligible staff members are shown. Since we have no employees under twenty-one, there is only one omission. Mr. Grindstone has worked here for less than two weeks, and so is not eligible to provide customer satisfaction."

"I'm referring first of all to the president of this company, whose signature is shown, under a guarantee of complete satisfaction, at every doorway into this building."

Miss Angela Serafina—that was the name beside her picture on the poster—gaped at the wall for a moment. "Sir, I see that you are correct. I will summon Mr. Bulgebottom at once, if you are sure he is the one you want to provide satisfaction, and if he is in the building at present."

"He should certainly be in the building. He entered just ahead of me, apparently returning from lunch," said Goodman. It had taken a little effort for him to make sure that this was so.

Miss Serafina looked at him, and then picked up her desk phone and spoke into it. Her words echoed throughout the building. "Mr. Bulgebottom, please come to Customer Service immediately. Mr. Bulgebottom to Customer Service, please."

She put down the handset and said, "Mr. Goodman, as you may know—Excuse me." She interrupted herself to answer her phone. "Customer Service, Miss Serafina." She listened for a moment. "Well, nevertheless, there is a customer here requesting him by name. And as you know, if he is not here within five minutes of my page, there will be hefty fines assessed for every additional minute." She hung up.

"Mr. Goodman, you may know that, since you requested a staff member who is not listed as he is supposed to be, this must be treated as another failure on our part. Would you care to specify a second employee, to provide satisfaction for that failure?"

"Yes, but it seems that there is another omission in your chart. I request Miss Braswell, Mr. Bulgebottom's executive secretary."

She looked at him with a horrified expression on her face. Plainly, in looking for J. P.'s listing, she had observed that Miss Braswell was also not listed. "I'm sorry, sir. I see that there has been a serious failure here. We will correct it as soon as possible. In the meantime, would you like Miss Braswell to be here immediately, or at a later time suitable to you? And would you care to specify another employee to provide satisfaction for that failure?"

"For your first question, yes, fetch her now as well. For your second, not yet. I will have to see whether I am still capable. But may I ask, how many satisfactions have you, yourself, provided already today?"

"Three, sir." She picked up her phone and broadcast through the building, "Miss Braswell to Customer Service, immediately, please. Miss Braswell to Customer Service."

In another minute, J. P. Bulgebottom's imposing—or at least large—figure entered the room. "Now Miss Serafina, what's all this?"

"Sir, this gentleman had a part which he ordered be misdirected, and he requested that you provide satisfaction." At this point, the door swung open, and Miss Braswell hurried in, breathing a bit heavily. She didn't interrupt, but came up to stand behind Bulgebottom. Miss Serafina continued. "For some reason, your name and photograph are missing from our staff listing here." She gestured. "As, in fact, are Miss Braswell's. Surely you realize that these are serious issues, which if not rectified quickly will cost us a huge amount in fines? This gentleman requested that you provide customer satisfaction. And due to that omission, he also requested Miss Braswell. He has chosen to postpone requesting satisfaction for Miss Braswell's omission, for the moment, but we will have to provide that at a later time."

Bulgebottom's face was red, and his mouth was opening and closing in a manner which reminded Goodman unpleasantly of a fish.

"Please, sir, accompany Mr. Goodman into service room number one. You, too, Miss Braswell, unless the gentleman would prefer you to wait here." Goodman shook his head, and beckoned to her as he started for the room. Bulgebottom followed, still looking outraged, and Miss Braswell followed him.

Once the door was closed behind them, Bulgebottom exploded. "Goodman, or whatever your name is, what is this about? I'm not responsible for your part being lost!"

"Oddly enough, J. P., your picture and signature appear on signs at every entrance to this building, personally guaranteeing complete satisfaction. And you can't be ignorant of the law, after all. To be blunt: You, in the person of your company, have fucked me over, and I plan to return the favor. Please remove your lower garments. Miss Braswell, please remove all your clothes. Thank you. You will provide something much more pleasant to look at, while I attend to J. P., here. Your turn will come afterward."

Bulgebottom looked mutinous, but he certainly was aware of the law. He began to remove his shoes, preparatory to taking off his pants. Miss Braswell undressed more quickly.

By 2025, the American public had pretty much become fed up with those oxymorons, "customer service" and "customer satisfaction". With synthesized-voice menus that never included the option one was looking for. With multi-hour time on hold to reach a human being. With representatives who apologized, who said they took responsibility, but who refused to actually fix a problem. With errors that, if they were ever fixed, required endless amounts of the customer's time and, sometimes, endless phone minutes. The public was ready to demand that Something Must Be Done. And what is government for, if not to see that Something Is Done?

New York was the first state to pass a law mandating customer satisfaction, imposing significant, personal penalties on companies and their staff members who refused to help. Well, that was a disaster, as anyone might have predicted. But after nine other states, scattered among all regions of the country, passed their own versions of such a law, the federal government got into the act.

The law which was passed was an unwieldy compromise. It specified that in the case of a serious failure, by the company, to meet its obligations to a customer, that customer—or his or her designated representative—might demand sexual satisfaction from the responsible party, or from any other staff member of the customer's choice. Employees under twenty-one years of age were exempt. New hires were exempt for two weeks, to allow for training and for revisions of the listings of available staff. There was a list of disqualifying physical conditions as well. After much lobbying, companies with fewer than fifteen employees were made exempt.

Local businesses complained that the bill, as drafted, put a heavy burden on them, but that companies doing business mostly by mail or telephone, or on line, would be able to require customers to travel long distances to exercise their rights, which most customers would not do—and thus that those companies would not have to bear the costs involved. The bill was amended to require that those companies maintain large enough customer service staffs in all regions where they did business to be able to go to a customer's home or office to provide satisfaction, within one week of the request's being made. Online companies screamed bloody murder, but that provision was allowed to stand. An entirely new department of the Federal Trade Commission was created to enforce the new law, the Bureau of KInseyan Specific Satisfaction Management and Enforcement. The law was passed near the end of 2030.

The law as written required sixty pages, and descended to sub-sub-sub-sub-sections. The administrative rules promulgated by KISSME required almost sixty thousand pages. A thriving industry developed, similar to the industry of tax preparers, to determine the practical requirements companies had to meet, produce instruction manuals and hold training sessions, etc., etc., etc., etc.

For the typical company, the actual requirements were not really all that complex. The burden of meeting them, however, was heavy. Customer Service departments were vastly enlarged, and staffed with beautiful young women—and men, as it was found that some women did want handsome studs to provide them with satisfaction, when there was a problem. Youth, beauty, and sexual ability were the necessary job requirements. Intelligence and competence in any other area were not particularly wanted. From the company's point of view, the Customer Service department's chief function was to allow the rest of the staff to accomplish the true work of the company without undue interruptions.

Of course, as with any law, there were unintended consequences. There are always those who will look for ways to game the system, and where there's a will there's a way.

Goodman had no sexual interest whatever in men, particularly not men as bloated as J. P. Bulgebottom. He had, however, a good enough imagination to allow himself to fantasize sufficiently to become erect and, ultimately, to ejaculate. The presence of Miss Braswell, nude body displayed in his field of vision, meant that his imagination had a lot less to do than it might have. He told Bulgebottom to bend over the desk—the room was furnished with a king-sized bed, a desk, a table, chairs, and a faux-fur rug in front of a faux fireplace—and he picked up a tube of lubricant that had been provided. He thrust straight in, pumping in and out. Bulgebottom winced and moaned and groaned, with a few squeals of pain mixed in, and a lot of muttering about seeing his congressman.

In less than ten minutes, Goodman ejaculated. He pulled out and told Bulgebottom to dress and leave, then told Miss Braswell to precede him into the bathroom for a shower.

She was trim and fit, around forty years old, with breasts quite large given the lack of fat elsewhere on her body. He knew they had not been augmented. His thorough research had included seeing pictures of her, taken at least yearly, going back to middle school and before, and her growth in that area had been reasonably gradual, and by the end of high school her bosom had apparently reached its present size.

At his direction, she washed him, paying particular attention to his cock, which was beginning to stand up again. He washed her as well, admiring with his hands her pussy, pubic hair tidily trimmed moderately short, and her breasts. By the end, she was breathing a bit heavily. In his explorations, he discovered one interesting fact. He thought that under the cover of the falling water they might speak softly without concern for microphones, so he asked her—near her ear and as low as he could—"How is it that you're still a virgin? I thought J. P. kept you as his private playmate."

She answered as quietly, "That was his idea when I was hired. I recorded his attempts to follow through on that, along with my rebuffs, and then played the recordings for him, citing the laws about sexual harassment in detail. In the end, he's kept me because I can always find the documents his previous bimbo never could, I can get the people he wants to talk to on the phone, and so on. By the time he would have felt safe in finding a pretext to fire me, I was indispensable to him"

"You do realize that you are going to lose your cherry in a few minutes?"

"I've managed to keep it this long, so I guess it's my turn now. Are we done with this shower?"

They turned off the water and dried off, and went back out into the main room, where cameras covered all their activities. He said, "You're a virgin. How did you make it through Customer Satisfaction training?"

"I attended all the training sessions and read all the materials, and also did research on my own. I waived the practical portion of the training. And yes, I know the rules. That means that you may demand up to three attempts at satisfaction, and if I fail to satisfy you, the company will be heavily fined, and that fine will be taken from my pay over the next few months. If that should happen, I probably will be fired, and I would wind up out on the street, unable to get another job after being terminated for such a reason. Please, sir, let me satisfy you!" Tears glistened in her eyes, and he might even have pitied her—had he not known the exact balances in her retirement funds and other savings.

He moved in and kissed and fondled her breasts, and then fondled her pussy. She grew more and more agitated, and he soon told her to bend over the table. He could see that she was a little tense and worried as his cock approached her from the rear, clearly visible to them both in the mirrors which lined the walls. As he pushed into her until her hymen stopped him, she seemed to be holding her breath and gritting her teeth. He gave her a sharp smack on the bottom, and then immediately pushed in hard as she squawked. As soon as her hymen tore to admit him, he withdrew and turned her around.

"What was the purpose of that?" she asked angrily.

"It was intended to distract you from the pain of having your cherry popped. It succeeded, didn't it?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, and then said, "If my cherry popped, I guess it must have. I'm not sure that I thank you, though."

Among the overly-detailed provisions of the Customer Satisfaction law, the conditions governing spanking were a little gem. Spanking was permitted so long as it was done on the buttocks only, with an open hand, and did not produce bruises or injuries of any kind. The total time devoted to spanking in any one session was not to exceed five minutes, and a maximum number of spanks per minute was specified, which was not be exceeded, under threat of serious penalties.

Legend had it that the two co-authors and sponsors of the original bill had asked a female page to help them with some unspecified research. They had forcibly bared her bottom, and then taken turns holding her down and spanking her as rapidly as they could, alternating hands, measuring the speed of their slaps. They had then deducted twenty-five percent from the figure thus arrived at, and wrote that into the law. And, of course, being thoroughly aroused by the situation, they had also taken turns holding her down and screwing her, repeatedly.

Legend also had it that the young woman had arrived before the specified time and arranged for her phone to take a video of their research. Legend said that she had threatened them with exposure of the video, first to their wives and then to the news media, despite the fact that her private parts were fully on display. Legend said that she had resigned with a very large nest egg—two and a half million, according to one version—in a new savings account. Since legend also insisted that all three parties had signed a non-disclosure agreement concerning the whole matter, with very serious penalties indeed for violation, it is hard to see how legend could know any of this.

Goodman leaned Miss Braswell back against the table, her arms supporting her upper body. "I want you to be able to see, close up, as my cock enters you," he told her. She stared in apparent fascination as his erect cock pushed her labia aside, found the mouth of her vagina, and very slowly moved in.

Once fully in, he held still for a bit. Then he began to move, not really in and out, but pushing against her and then relaxing. After a few moments, she gasped and began pushing back to meet him. Soon he began withdrawing most of the way and then moving back in, still slowly, as she gasped, panted, and occasionally whimpered. He could feel her tensing, preparing to climax, and when he thought she was to the point he shoved back in fast and hard and resumed rocking against her. Immediately she came, with loud moans and shrieks. He allowed a few moments for her to recover, and then moved in and out more rapidly, taking her through a second orgasm, then plunging in and out about as hard and fast as he could, with her gasping and moaning and meeting him on each stroke. When he thrust in hard and ejaculated, she climaxed a third time.

He waited again until she recovered, and then pulled out and moved over to the rug with her. He instructed her to kneel and use her mouth and hands to bring him back to readiness. He told her to continue, and she did, doing about as good a job as anyone could with no previous experience. When he ejaculated, she swallowed, managing it all.

He told her to give him a few minutes before continuing, this time. Then he had her return him to readiness in the same way, but when he was erect and starting to feel a little close, he took her back to the table and had her bend over it while he took her from the rear. He hammered in and out with no preliminaries, bringing her to orgasm once more, which triggered his own ejaculation—thus completing Miss Braswell's three allotted attempts to provide satisfaction.

They got dressed. She used the standard language specified by KISSME, saying, "Have I succeeded in satisfying you, sir, for Mr. Bulgebottom's omission from the listing?" He assured her that she had. He expected that she would speak to J. P. about his own failure to ask such a question, and that he would receive a call from the man in due time. Probably Miss Serafina would have spoken to Bulgebottom already, in fact.