Jessica's Change Management Ch. 21

At the count of 9, it finally happened! Sharkboy stopped!

He didn't stop the counting out of the goodness of his heart, though. Not at all! He stopped 'cause my grunts drowned out his voice. Actually, I should have wondered why it took so long for me to lose my balance. My muscles had been tensed up from the squatting, so much so that my thighs finally gave way. As a result, I fell onto my knees, and more importantly, the stick got fully buried down my twat.

"Uuunnnggghhh!" I grunted noisily although I quickly tried to suppress my groan.

The rounded top of the pole mercilessly stabbed my cervix. Nothing had ever penetrated me that deeply! The girth of the stick mercilessly stretched the walls of my vag. Nothing had ever stuffed me like that. Still, I desperately tried to get up as if nothing had happened, you know, gracefully and head held high and all.

"Oh girrrl! You, like almost, completed the ass-ercise at the first try. Like yay!" Sharkboy announced. "Next time, you'll, like totally, reach the full filling!"

With that taunt, Mr. Aggro grabbed my hair again. I was barely able to follow along, 'cause I was still wobbly on my feet. Little side effect? The massage tool was buried so deep up my snatch that I pulled it up along with me. Oh my god! So much for graceful, right?

"So, Assy? You're feeling all that happiness of inner full filling 'n all?" The cunning youngster teased me when I stood in front of him.

I nodded hastily and tried to flash my fakest, I mean brightest, smile. Yet, it turned into a challengingly raised eyebrow. The defiance! Truth be told, Consultant-me felt totally provoked by Sharkboy's yoga taunts, like he was testing my knowledge. That was why I felt the need to respond with a fitting mantra, not thinking carefully about the pros and cons.

"Happiness begins with an open h... hough hough hough!"

Oh no! Before I managed to say the last word, Mr. Aggro leaned over and spat right into my open mouth. That unexpected action totally made me stagger backwards. Most of all, though, it made me cough and choke, so the mantra sounded more like 'open holes' instead of 'open heart', which fit a lot better and made the sales reps laugh that much harder.

OMG! Once again, Sharkboy had led me up the garden path, or more like idiot's path, as in intellect only rivaled by garden tools. Remember? Ugh! Mostly, though, Consultant-me had let me down that path and failed me again. Argh!

"Oh Assy, what did you say? Can you explain that, like totally in detail?" Sharkboy jumped at the chance.

"Um..." I hesitated for a moment. "You know, I open my h... hough hough hough to the u... ewww ewww eww... niverse."

Oh jeez! As a result of my recoiling, I got treated to another circle of disgust, as in both sales dudes taking turns spitting into my mouth. This time, though, they made me butcher another yoga mantra in the process, as in open my holes instead of my heart. Here I was standing in between two dudes with my hands on my hips getting spat right in the face! Un-fucking-believable!

Of course, the fierce bullneck wasn't done with that. This time, however, he simply gave me a nod. OMG! He wanted me to do the deed myself. Oh no! Oh yuck! After all, d-i-y was so much worse, wasn't it?

Anyway, I was already driving my fingers down my throat while Consultant-me was still gasping for air from the insolence. I had to be really careful 'cause ultra long porn claws. Duh! That was why it took a moment till I had two fingers deeply planted down my throat. By contrast, it didn't take a moment for me to start gagging and retching. Here I was standing in between two dudes bent over with a hand in my mouth and the other on my hip retching up spit and spluttering it all over a massage tool! Beyond fucking belief!

"What did I say, cunt? Less talking more entertaining! This is the only talking you're supposed to do anyway." The brute baldhead kinda complimented my gagging.

"Oh girrrl! I so don't see you all zen yet." Sharkboy chided me by contrast. "Looks like you totally need another ass-ercise to reach that state."

This time, I knew better than to respond, so I remained silent and continued trying my bestest to smile as bright and natural as I could. Obviously, I hadn't done a good job at convincing the dudes of my happiness. Maybe, it was down to the fact that I was too used to flashing fake smiles nowadays. Maybe, it was the bratty retort. Anyway, they didn't believe me.

"Good thingie, I already know what to do." The youngster came to my help. "Let's go with something more easy for you, Assy. That seems to be more like your thingy."

"So do the plank!" He instructed.

"Hah! No way, the fucking cunt can pull that off convincingly." Mr. Aggro countered dismissively. "She wants to be a yoga instructor but got no body tension."

"That wannabe exercise she's just done was a pathetic excuse." He obviously was the least impressed with my skills.

Oh Lordy! His missing confidence and lack of belief really riled me up but also flustered me. That way, it made me competitive and submissive at the same time. What a contradiction! Anyway, he had framed it as if I couldn't perform the most basic stuff, so I had to prove him wrong. Otherwise, it would make me look dumber than ever.

Before I thought better of it, I acted on my own. I so didn't want any of the sales reps to guide me, 'cause I had kinda acquired a taste for d-i-y by now. Resting my elbows on the floor, I lowered my torso. All the while, I kept my body in a straight line from neck to ankles and tensed.

Oh, did you forget about that makeshift dildo? Me too! Even though I didn't really think about it, I kept my legs spread while getting into the plank position. Even more I really felt it when Sharkboy reached down between my legs and pulled the roller stick out of my snatch. The mixture of surprise and intensity gave me a jerk, so much so that I lost my body tension and my boobies hit the floor. Damn! I had lost my position, giving Mr. Aggro new ammunition.

More than that, though, I had gotten so used to the thick pole stuffing my cunny that my pussy walls tightly clung to it, barely letting it go. When the youngster had eventually wiggled the pole out of me, it was totally coated with my thick pussy juices. At least, it was slippery and wet, right? Anyhow, the cunning dude quickly placed it back in the weight hole, you know the one in the middle of the weights. Once again, it reared up from the floor, which didn't really matter much to me 'cause I was busy doing another plank. After that super squat session, it was physically demanding enough.

"Umph!"

My boobies hit the floor anew when the cunning dude returned from the weights and pinched my clit roughly. Once again, the mixture of intensity and sensations overwhelmed me, causing me to lose my position.

"Fuck! That wannabe instructor's worse than expected." Mr. Aggro hissed.

Despite his low expectations, he appeared disappointed. Grabbing my long chestnut- golden tresses, he gave them a sharp tug, which made me stop. Pulling on them, he forced me to follow his lead. Keeping my head low, I had to remain in that awkward lizard position while he made me crawl over to the roller stick. So much for do-it-yourself. Duh!

"Now, that should be a yoga exercise on its own." He snorted, oblivious to the fact there was such a yoga pose.

Fortunately, I didn't blare out that smart ass comment! I had my own problems to deal with anyhow. Consultant-me loathed the lizard walk whereas Bimbo-me embraced it. That conflict let me plough on but made me super slow. By contrast, the fierce bullneck liked his idea so much that he added a second and third round through the fitness room, walking me like a pet. Ugh!

"If it were an exercise, it prolly be something 'bout getting in touch with nature 'cause you're close to the ground or some other bullshit." The brute baldhead chuckled.

The way, he made fun of yoga really hurt Consultant-me's sensibilities, so much so that it made me grunt in despair. Bimbo-me, however, argued that it shouldn't offend me 'cause I had started the whole smear campaign. Damn! Those contrasting feelings! Those unexpected consequences! Those rash actions!

"Time to do some push-ups, cunt! That's some good ole fashioned workout. Not that fancy, pseudo intellectual bullshit!" He exclaimed, pulling on my hair to make me look him in the face.

Holy fudge! Whenever the fierce bullneck spat out the word 'cunt' it went right through me like piercing marrow and bone. It vexed Consultant-me like nothing had ever done. That was why I stubbornly pressed my lips together when I got into position although it looked more like pouting with my super plumped up lips. Placing my hands under shoulders and toes under ankles, I lifted my ass up into the air to get into a high plank.

"C'mon fucking cunt! You can't be that stupid!" Mr. Aggro chided me for whatever reason. "This exercise's 'bout total fillment! So you need a fucking hole filled."

With that, he grabbed my hair and lizard walked me over to the roller stick, which I had totally forgotten once again. Oh no! Without prompting, I got back into the high plank. The bullneck kept his hand on the back of my head, always ready to push me down.

"This won't count if you don't gag, bitch." He instructed me. "Total fillment of the facehole's only reached by gag-ups. Didn't your mantra tell you that?"

Of course, it didn't say that. Of course, it didn't matter. Mr. Aggro was already adding pressure to my head anyway. Not enough to make me move but to give me a starting signal. He wanted me to do those gag-ups by myself. On the one hand, I felt challenged to pass this exercise with flying colors. On the other hand, I loathed the thought of doing something that nasty and debasing on my own volition. Truth be told, I would have preferred him to force me, 'cause I could have attributed it externally. So much for do-it-yourself, right? Damn contradictions!

"Gag! Now! Cunt!" He quickly left no room for doubt.

Oh man! There was that word again piercing right through me! It seemed like the moment I heard that nasty slur in a commanding tone, I had to obey without resistance. Actually, his voice was so strict and demanding that even Consultant-me didn't dare to pipe up. Dutifully, I started bending my elbows to lower my face towards the makeshift dildo.

Jeez! I so wasn't used to this kind of fitness workout. Besides, I hadn't attended my yoga classes for some time, so I was already exhausted from the previous exercises. That was why I barely touched the top of the fascia tool before my arms gave way, and I dropped flat on my boobies and face. So shameful! So embarrassing!

Not missing a beat, the fierce bullneck grabbed my hair and pulled on it. Only till my juicy juggs were hovering in the air, though. Just then he forcefully pressed me back onto the ground, squishing my big, soft boobies and making them bulge out to all sides.

Up and down! Bulge and squash!

He repeated the über-demeaning move while Sharkboy went along continuing to count the squashings. They treated this like any other exercise. Gasp! They treated this like the most normal thingie. Gulp!

"See! Finally, those fat fleshbags got some use as airbags!" The baldhead rubbed it in, adding to my degradation.

"You ready for the real workout now, cunt?" He hissed in my face when the youngster had counted to 5.

I was way too befuddled and intimidated to react quickly. I wasn't too staggered and dazzled to fold my arms on my back and tilt my head back as if I was in control of the situation. With that encouragement, the fierce bullneck restarted the ultra humiliating exercise. Quelle surprise!

Up and down! Bulge and squash!

He didn't stop mashing and smooshing my big, ole funbags until Sharkboy had reached the count of 10. To my own surprise, I was whining desperately but not flailing about. Instead, Consultant-me maintained that fake position of control. Uh-oh!

The moment, the baldhead stopped, I got back into my starting position on hands and toes with my ass raised high. Even though I knew that Sharkboy wouldn't wait for me to start his count, I moved extra slowly to show-off my fake control. Gosh! Consultant-me turned into a real pain in the ass, right?

"And 1..." The youngster started as expected.

Oh boy! I was already out of breath before the exercise had started. Still, I quickly bent my elbows. Jeez! I really had to concentrate when opening my mouth and pushing my lips over the rounded off top. I had to concentrate even harder when I slowly continued lowering my face as my arms started quivering from the strain.

Deeper and deeper, my face inched down. Deeper and deeper, the stick slid down my gullet. My throat muscle started constricting, my gag reflex started setting in. I started choking, I started heaving. And my lips hadn't reached the top weight yet. There was still one third missing. I couldn't do it! I couldn't pull it off!

"Uuurrrggghhh!" I heaved all ear-deafening.

Mr. Aggro had gotten impatient with my obvious incompetence and pushed my head down. He pressed until my lips touched the weights and the thick pole was deeper down my throat than anything ever.

"Uuurrrggghhh! Urgh Urgh Urgh! Uuurrrggghhh!" I gurgled all ear-piecing.

It was a sound that the brute baldhead obviously enjoyed 'cause he kept my head down for some moments before releasing my head. As soon as his hand was gone, my head snapped up so I could catch a breath while gasping and grunting loudly.

This time, however, Mr. Aggro kept his hand on my head and only gave me a couple of seconds before he started adding pressure. At least, he let me snatch the head of the pole with my mouth before adding more pressure. Mercilessly, he pushed my face down, not giving a damn about the increasing volume of my gags. He didn't stop before the stick was totally impaled in my mouth and throat and gullet.

"That's 2, like totally!" Sharkboy said sorta encouraging.

I only responded with some whiny grunting, 'cause I was way more occupied by the feeling of strain and exhaustion in my arms. A couple of seconds later, though, my face got pressed onto the fascia tool once more. Too soon for me, though. I was too weak to lift my knees, remaining in a kneeling position while having my throat gored by the pike. My gags were more than loud by now, so much so that I barely heard the sales reps talk.

"Oh Assy, that's not 3, like not at all." The youngster informed me.

"The real workout's too hard for the cunt. She's just a little yoga bunny in the end." Mr. Aggro chided me in addition.

As a reminder or punishment or whatever, he pulled my head away from the roller stick and pushed me down. My arms instantly gave way from the pressure and my soft boobies got pressed onto the ground.

Up and down! Bulge and squash!

Oh no! Once more, I got exposed to this super degrading ordeal. Once more, I endured it in my position of fake control with my arms on my back and head tilted. In contrast, I was whining and pouting like the biggest bimbo ever all through the 5 squashes.

"Hah! If the cunt wants more airbag testing, she can get it." Mr. Aggro exclaimed. "Looks like you're more of a crash test dummy than gym bunny, ain't you?"

"Position, bitch!" The baldhead sharply ordered next.

In the most controlled manner, I lifted my knees into the air. Still, I instantly felt my arms trembling. With my mouth half way down the plastic shaft, they gave way. Another fall, another landing flat on my juicy juggs. This time however, I managed to fully gulp down the thick rod in my lying position. After choking up a major load of spit that spurted from my mouth and splashed all over the fascia tool, Mr. Aggro pulled my head up until my lips barely touched the tip of the rod. Then he quickly rammed my face back down.

"That's 3. So super sorry but double count for the knees." Sharkboy explained mockingly.

"That's what you call fit, bitch?" The bullneck added another rant. "I bet your exercise consists of posing in front of the gym mirror 'n shooting selfies only."

"A strict drill's gonna do you good." He got back to business. "Position, bitch!"

I grunted from the unfair treatment, gasped from trying to catch a breath, and whined from the strain. I slowly lifted my knees as if I could afford the delay, got into a high plank as if I was highly goal-oriented, and opened my mouth as if I knew what I was doing. The contradiction!

Seconds later, though, my arms were trembling, my knees buckling, and my lips on the fascia tool. I tried, I really did, but my knees gave way sooner than later. So my throat was treated to a fierce double pump once more.

"That's so totally 4." Sharkboy commented.

"Why you're looking at me all reproachful, bitch?" Mr. Aggro asked coarsely. "It's your own fault you need more gag-ups to reach your fillment."

"Position, bitch!" He barked next.

And with that, we repeated the process and repeated it and repeated it. My arms, however, were just not strong enough for so many push-ups. That was why I fell onto my knees the first few times and flat on my boobies thereafter.

On top of that, the roller stick was just too long for me to take. That was why Mr. Aggro had to press my head down each time to make the thick rod slip past my throat muscle, activate my gag reflex, and help my lips reach the weights. Oh dang! I really wasn't cutting a fine figure here despite Consultant-me desperately trying to maintain a look of control.

The deluge of spittle and drool was even more than before. I really shouldn't have drunk so much water. Ugh! The thick slobber basically flooded the fascia tool, so much so that it continued splashing from my lips whenever the brute baldhead pulled me up. As a result, a healthy mass of spit washed over my chin and drenched my titties.

The gag storm was just as unbelievable. The cacophony of choking, retching, gagging, and heaving basically filled the entire fitness room. It was so much that I continued dry heaving whenever my mouth was free.

Actually, I had never had anything that deep down my gullet to the point of getting nauseous. I had never gagged and choked so much to the point of getting a sore throat. I had never drooled and slobbered so much to the point of getting thirsty from loss of liquid.

I didn't protest, though, 'cause fake look of control. Besides, the fierce bullneck wouldn't have listened or stopped anyway. He was so aggressive and rude without any of Sharkboy's subtlety or craftiness, which made the whole ordeal that much more disgraceful.

When Mr. Aggro finally let my head go, I was a total mess. My makeup was smeared, my chin was coated with slobber, thick strings of spit dangled off my face, my titties were drenched with drool, my crop top was soaked with sweat, and I was gasping from the effort.

The only thing that mattered, though, was that the dreadful exercise was over. With that, a chance to regain control presented itself. Besides, I hadn't fully served the sales champions yet 'cause no cumshot.

"Oh boys! You said some kinda thingy 'bout reaching total fillment, right?" I purred.

"I so don't think I reached, you know, every filling ever, like yet." I teased while getting on hands and knees and turning my butt towards the men.

In a way, it annoyed me that I hadn't managed to get the sales champs' cum yet, especially after that many exercises. Was it a failure of my yoga skills or bimbo skills or what? I couldn't tell.

Anyhow, I was about to correct that mistake. With the zipper fully opened, it must have been a drool-inducing sight. The skintight, shiny wet look leggings covered my thighs and the outer half of my bubbly buns. My juicy snatch and wrinkled asshole were exposed with my pussy lips engorged and my slit invitingly open already. My fake-tanned, tattooed ass meat bulged out on the inside, making my butt look even more bootilicious.