Needful Things Pt. 02: Stop The World

Timothy Fishlake had a problem. Wait, let's correct that: Timothy Fishlake had at least two problems. One was that at the ripe old age of 20, he was still a virgin, a fact that was a constant source of embarrassment to him. But that was not the problem that was uppermost in his mind at the present time. The prevailing problem was Gloria Goodhead.

Mrs Goodhead was the office manager of the shipping department of Amalgamated Widgets plc. And she was a real bitch. At least so far as Timothy Fishlake was concerned. It is probably fair to say that Timothy is not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but that's no reason for Mrs Goodhead to be constantly picking on him, humiliating him in front of young female secretaries.

The most recent example was when Gloria Goodhead sent Timothy on an errand to the supervisor in Quality Control.

"Now Timothy, this is important. I don't want any mistakes this time, so you repeat to me what you have to ask the supervisor."

"Right! OK." Timothy cleared his throat. "I have to ask for a long weight." Timothy assumed that a long weight was some component, vital to the manufacture of widgets.

Unfortunately, what Gloria actually said was "Ask the supervisor for a long wait."

The supervisor is Monica Rimmington, a close friend of Gloria. She listened to Timothy's request, trying hard to suppress her amusement.

"Ok, young man. Go and wait just there." Monica indicated a spot in front of the bench where a team of widget testers worked.

Timothy stood on the specified spot and waited. And waited. And waited. He looked at his watch. Half an hour had passed. Timothy glanced over at Monica Rimmington. Had she forgotten he was there? One of the female widget testers stifled a snigger.

Timothy began to suspect that once again he was the butt of a joke. Monica glanced over at Timothy.

"You still here? You'd better get back to Mrs Goodhead. She'll be wondering where you are."

"But I haven't got the long weight," he protested. Then, as he spoke, the penny dropped. All of the widget testers and Monica Rimmington doubled up with laughter. A red-faced Timothy Fishlake made his way back to the shipping department to be met with gales of laughter.

Mrs Goodhead could hardly speak. Tears of mirth ran down her cheeks.

"You waited too long, Timothy," she spluttered. "You'll have to make up the lost time at the weekend."

At lunchtime, Timothy could not face the inevitable finger pointing and giggles in the staff canteen. He left the building and wandered aimlessly looking for a sandwich outlet. As he walked, he devised all sorts of torments he would inflict on Mrs Goodhead when he became king of the world.

"I'll make her pull her skirt up and pull her panties down to her knees and everybody will point at her big, red bush and laugh at her." Timothy realised that he could not know for sure that Gloria Goodhead had red pubic hair adorning her feminine charms. But it was an educated guess, based on the fact that she had the most striking red hair that Tim had ever seen. It was definitely her best asset. Although Gloria was a bitch, he had to admit she wasn't bad looking for a middle-aged woman, about the same age as his mother.

The thought of humiliating Gloria cheered Timothy up no end and gave him a hard-on to boot.

The fantasy situation had consumed him to the point that he had lost track of where he was. Looking round, he knew he was in one of the numerous streets near the widget works, but couldn't immediately recognise it. There were a number of small shops including a newsagent that sold sandwiches in plastic wrappers. Timothy bought a BLT and ate it as he wandered along the pavement.

Then he spotted what appeared to be a second-hand or antique shop. Through the dusty window the untidy display included an eclectic mix of old objects. The sign above the window said "Needful Things" in faded gold letting.

Although Timothy couldn't see anything in the tawdry display that was of particular interest, curiosity drew him to the door, which was in need of a touch of paint. As he pushed it open, an old-fashioned bell on a bracket over the door startled Timothy. A curtain at the rear of the shop was pushed to one side as an elderly man entered the sales area.

Timothy began to wonder if he had made a mistake. He couldn't see anything that remotely interested him. There was a musty smell and a layer of dust covered everything. A collection of stuffed animals and birds on a shelf struck Timothy as being very unpleasant.

He turned to leave but the old man croaked, "I am sure you will find something you need if you care to look. Everyone gets what they need at Needful Things."

There was something in the old man's tone that made Timothy turn to the glass-topped counter and peer through the fogged glass to study the contents. An old cobweb decorated one corner of the display cabinet. One item, an old watch stood out as being reasonably free from dust and grime.

"Could I take a look at that watch?" Timothy heard himself say. He had no idea why as he wore a perfectly adequate wristwatch.

"A wise choice, young man. That is a fine piece." His gnarled fingers carefully lifted the watch out of the cabinet. "Here, take it. Hold it, feel the quality."

Timothy examined the timepiece. It looked at first like a pocket watch, but it was actually a stopwatch. The sort of thing that might have been used at sporting events. A button on the side started the watch when pressed. A second press stopped the sweep hand, allowing the time elapsed to be read. Another press reset the watch.

"What's this for?" Timothy pointed to a smaller button, diametrically opposite the stop-start button.

The old man sighed. "Unfortunately, I do not have an instruction manual, but I am sure a little experimentation will reveal its purpose."

"How much is it?" Timothy had no idea why he asked because he didn't really want the watch anyway. As he spoke, Timothy drew his credit card out. The old man shook his head sadly.

"I am sorry young man, but it is cash only here. I am a rather old-fashioned person."

Relieved that he appeared to have ruled himself out of the purchase, he muttered something about coming back when he had some cash.

"Wait," instructed the shopkeeper. "Take the watch and try it out for a few days. If it does not meet your requirements just bring it back. If you like it, then return and we will negotiate a fair price."

Cornered by the old man's generous and trusting offer, Timothy found it impossible to refuse. He made one last attempt to avoid being lumbered with the watch, he didn't really want.

"But how do you know I'll return? I could just keep it."

"No, you won't. You are an honest young man. I can tell."

Of course, the shopkeeper was right. He took the watch. "No obligation?"

"No obligation," the old man agreed."

That evening, sitting in the family lounge, Timothy took the watch from his pocket and examined it.

"What have you got there, Tim?" His Mother was ironing some clothes as she questioned her son.

"Huh! Nothing mum, just an old watch."

His dad looked up from the newspaper he was reading and glanced over at his son. "Planning on doing some running, Son?"

Timothy grunted vaguely and his dad turned back to his paper.

Timothy turned his attention to the button opposite the stop-start button. He pressed it, but there was no obvious reaction. Then he held it pressed down, while pressing the stop-start button at the same time. The sweep hand began to move, but nothing else was happening.

After a few minutes he was about to reset the watch when he realised a strange silence had descended on the room. His mother had stopped ironing, the iron held as if she was about to iron a shirt. His dad was completely motionless. He held the newspaper, but without any movement at all.

"Mum! Are you alright?" No reply.

"Dad, anything interesting in the paper?" No reply.

Timothy stood up and walked over to his dad and prodded his arm. There was no reaction. He took the iron from his mother's hand and placed it carefully on the stand. At first, Timothy thought his parents had simultaneously had a seizure of some sort. But then he noticed the living room clock had stopped and the pet budgie had stopped moving in his cage.

Neither parent gave any indication that anything untoward had happened.

After weighing the evidence, Timothy concluded that somehow the watch had frozen time, at least in this locality. He pressed the stop button and, in an instant, the clock hands began to move again, the budgie resumed it's bobbing about, the iron was back in his mother's hand and his dad turned a page of his newspaper

Timothy thought carefully about the implications of his discovery. The watch stopped the world, at least in the immediate vicinity, but the holder of the watch was somehow immune from the effect. Wow! Timothy could go into a bank, stop the world and take what he wanted.

But the most appealing idea was to use the watch to get revenge on Mrs Goodhead.

The next day, Timothy deliberately arrived at work 5 minutes late. Mrs Goodhead rose to her full height, her blue eyes flashing, hands on hips she prepared to tear a strip off Timothy.

Click.

Timothy had pressed both buttons on the watch.

Immediately Gloria froze as did two secretaries.

Timothy purposefully approached his tormentor and gave her bottom a moderately hard slap through the material of her tight skirt. There was no reaction, which was a good sign that his plan was working, even though it was a shame that she didn't feel the slap.

Satisfied that he could execute the rest of his plan, Timothy pulled up Gloria's tight skirt. It was a struggle getting up over her ample thighs and bottom. Mrs Goodhead was wearing a pair of quite sexy panties and thigh high stockings.

"Whose benefit are these for, Mrs Goodhead? Is it for the foreman in the loading bay? Is he going to shag you later?"

Of course, Mrs Godhead didn't reply to Timothy's impertinent question. She simply stared straight ahead, seeing nothing.

Timothy began to undo Mrs Goodhead's blouse.

"Ooh! Nice tits, Mrs Goodhead. "You don't mind if I have a little feel, do you?"

Timothy cupped each of Gloria's breasts through the thin material of her brassiere, which matched her panties. Timothy could see and feel Gloria's nipples through the bra.

"You like that, Gloria? You like having your tits felt, don't you?"

Gloria didn't reply but continued to look vacantly into space.

As Gloria's brassiere was the front-opening type, even naive Timothy was capable of unfastening it and allowing Gloria's breasts to spill out. The flesh was pale with freckles and her nipples red and prominent. Timothy closed his lips around the left nipple and rolled the right nipple between his finger and thumb.

Then Timothy directed his attention lower down. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of Gloria's pretty knickers and pulled them down over her plump bottom. He was pleased to see that he was right about Gloria's pubes. They were covered in a glorious tangle of red hair that perfectly matched the hair on her head.

Timothy slid a finger between Gloria's thighs and found her slit in the beautiful bush. He insinuated one finger, then two. Although there was no sign of reaction in Gloria's expression, her pussy exuded more moisture as his fingers worked inside.

"You like having your cunt fingered, don't you Gloria?" He removed his fingers, slick with his boss's juices and held them to his nose and inhaled deeply. The musky scent further stimulated Timothy's unrequited lust. His penis throbbed with desire.

Timothy considered his next move. He looked at the two secretaries, frozen in time. One was sitting at her desk, leaning towards her computer keyboard. The other was bending over, looking for a file in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. Her short skirt barely overdeveloped her panties. Too good to miss. Timothy hiked the skirt right up to reveal the girl's tiny pale green panties.

"Don't worry that you're being left out, love. I'm leaving you until last. I'm going to give you something to giggle about."

Timothy unzipped his pants and took out his penis, barely 5 inches long, it was stiffer than it had ever been. He moved over to the secretary, sitting at her desk and pushed his penis against her lips, forcing her mouth open. He pushed back and forth, but there was no reaction from the girl. It was a pleasant enough experience, but not a proper blowjob.

He glanced over at Gloria with her skirt up and knickers down, displaying her magnificent honey pot. Timothy was ready for a fuck.

"I'm sorry Gloria, I hope you won't be jealous, but I have promised to shag your secretary, but I promise I will fuck you another day. And you can tell your friend, Monica Rimmington and her widget testers, that I will be visiting them to give them a seeing-to soon. They won't have a long wait Timothy chuckled at his little joke."

"Gosh, it's taking a long time to locate that file," he joked to the girl leaning into the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet.

He pulled her tiny panties to one side, exposing her pussy and bottom. He fingered her slit, which wasn't as big as Gloria's but he could still get two fingers inside without difficulty.

He moved in behind the girl and pressed his cock against the inviting hole. Fortunately, unlike Timothy, the girl was not a virgin and his small penis entered without difficulty.

Ecstasy! This was the very first time that Timothy had his cock inside a real cunt. And it felt good. Perhaps not as good as it would have been if the girl had reacted to his thrusts, but very good all the same. They girl took his thrusting cock like a living sex-doll.

When he felt his impending orgasm, he decided he should pull out. He was not sure what the consequences of leaving his load inside the girl might be. Groaning and trembling, Timothy unloaded into a tissue he snatched from a box on the secretary's desk. He wiped himself clean and zipped himself up. Now for the acid test. Would everything return to normal when he pressed the stop button? He fervently hoped so, otherwise he would be in deep shit.

Click.

The secretary found her file and went back to her desk. The other secretary typed rapidly on her keyboard and Gloria looked stern, but slightly puzzled. She stared at Timothy. She was sure she was about to tell him off about something, but couldn't recall what it was. So, her clothing properly adjusted, she absently returned to her seat.

A failure to remember the events immediately before the time-freeze was a bonus. It could help to avoid potential difficulties in the future.

Timothy instantly decided to keep the watch. Of course he did. Wouldn't you have done the same? In his lunch break he withdrew a hundred pounds from an ATM and made his way back to Needful Things.

You get what you need from Needful Things.