Photoshopped

I've never enjoyed firing people, but that day was an exception. I was looking forward to it. If ever someone wanted to be fired, it was these two. And I was glad to fulfill their wish.

First up was Gloria Whiner-Blogett. Gloria was the graphic artist I'd hired to run the decorations department of our small plastics company. The decorations department made signs, banners, balloons and all types of plastic party decorations and devices. Gloria, during her interview, made it very clear that she was a feminist and a lesbian. Neither bothered me -- I applaud feminism and a person's sexuality should not have, and in our company doesn't have, anything to do with their employment. It's a person's own private business.

Gloria also made it clear she didn't need the job -- her wife was quite wealthy. In fact, they lived in a mansion in the most exclusive and costly part of town. That actually gave me pause -- I didn't want to hire some dilettante who would leave us high and dry when things got tough. But she was highly qualified and recommended, as well as very skilled. I took a chance and hired her over my misgivings.

Her work for the first few months was outstanding. She was quick and proactive, and the department seemed to hum under her direction. The only drawbacks were the complaints from her employees. She constantly harangued the staff with radical feminazi diatribes. The women found it disturbing, and the manufacturing staff, who tended to be less educated males, found it infuriating.

When I spoke to Gloria about it, I approached it by saying it was inappropriate to subject people to her personal beliefs on company time. Thereafter, she reserved her opinion for the break room and lunch hours. While the employees still complained, I didn't see much I could do about other than recommend that they just keep away from her during breaks.

Soon after Gloria's probationary period was up, and I turn the complete reins of the department over to her, complaints began pouring in. One of our newer products was the "Gender Reveal" balloon package. When triggered, the package burst open and balloons, originally of blue or pink, shot out. Gloria added violet balloons as an option, for those who didn't want their children pigeonholed into traditional genders. When I found out, I pointed out that those "woke" people were never going to order a gender reveal, so it was unnecessary. That set her off into a very "woke" diatribe, so in the end I figured we'd never have to create the violet balloon packages, so what did it matter.

The complaints that came in were about the gender reveals. It turned out that the blue balloons were emblazoned with a large "LOSER!". When I looked into it, I found out that Gloria had ordered the balloons that way. When I questioned her, she first claimed that the order was originally for a bachelor party, but had been cancelled, and that the balloons must have accidentally been shifted to the gender reveal.

"Then why," I asked, "were the pink balloons marked with 'WINNER!'"

"Well," she snickered, "where there are losers there has to be winners."

I sent her home while I tried to calculate what her, (what would you call it?, prank?), was going to cost us. I also spent the afternoon trying to replace any package that hadn't yet been opened. The cost to our reputation was incalculable.

When I called her and the HR manager into my office that morning, and without preamble, fired Gloria without severance, she was incensed. "Those people who got the blue balloons are LOSERS!", she screamed at me. "No one needs you fucking male scum." she shouted as she stormed out. The HR manager looked dumbfounded. Later, when I announced Gloria's termination to her department, they cheered and applauded. I honestly hadn't known things were that bad.

After Gloria, it was Steven Wingate's turn. This was a personal pleasure for me.

My personal assistant was a 23-year old named Marcie. She was petite, with knockout looks and figure. She was not only beautiful, but competent and attentive. A real jewel of an employee.

Steve was one of our IT guys, who believed he was God's gift, and who wouldn't stop hitting on her, to the point she was in tears and asked me to get him to stop. I told him that if he didn't stop, it would be considered harassment, and he would be fired. After leaving my office, he apparently thought that if I wanted to see harassment, he'd show it to me.

He found a picture of a couple facing the camera butt-fucking doggy style, and photoshopped Marcie's and my faces from company pictures onto it, showing us grinning ear to ear. He sent an email (using his company email account, the idiot) to the rest of the employees, with the picture and a note suggesting that Marcie was a favored employee because we were screwing.

The photoshopped job was horribly done -- the shadows were inconsistent and the resolution of the faces didn't match the rest of the photo. No one would have believed it was real. None of the employees did. But it definitely was sexual harassment, and I was livid for Marcie's sake.

I had Steve brought into my office by our security personnel, where the HR manager gave him his final check and had him escorted out of the building. I didn't trust myself to address him in any fashion.  I was afraid if I did, I'd only make it worse and probably end up in jail.

My wife Julie is super jealous, especially of Marcie, unreasonably so. I talked to the couple of people who were friendly with her and asked them not to mention the photo to her. She'd assume where there's smoke, there's fire, and I didn't need the hellstorm that would erupt if she saw the picture.

Friday's Julie's and my date night, but as the weekend approached she wasn't feeling well and asked if we could delay until Saturday night. She even hinted that we might try some new stuff in the bedroom. That got my attention and I agreed. It never occurred to me how she knew she wouldn't be feeling well on Friday, but would be totally recovered by Saturday.

When the weekend came, Julie sent me out to play golf, saying she wanted to make a special dinner for our special night, and didn't want me under foot. We kissed and hugged, and she playfully grabbed my ass, promising fun things that night.

When I came home, she chased me upstairs to shower while she set the table and put the finishing touch on dinner. I re-shaved and showered, and splashed on some aftershave before heading back down.

Julie had outdone herself. Dinner was a beautiful tri-tip roast, vegetable medley and potatoes as the main course, with tiramisu and coffee for dessert. To cap it off, she came up with a bottle of my favorite port. After a couple of glasses of port, as Julie lingered over her coffee (she doesn't like port), I noticed I was slurring my words, and having trouble keeping my eyes opened. I struggled with it, but lost.

I came around slowly, and found myself locked in a pillory stock of some kind. I was bent over so my back was almost straight, with some kind of support under my rib cage. Additionally, my lips were forced open with a dildo crammed in my mouth.

"Oh, you're finally awake. I thought you were going to miss the main event." Julie smiled into my face. I tried to respond but was only able to grunt and drool.

Julie held up the photoshopped picture in front of my face. "I knew you were fucking that little bitch!"

More grunts and drool, more panicked now. She couldn't believe that badly photoshopped picture! But wait, the picture she was showing me was not the same. The shadows and pixels have been fixed!

"Steve and Gloria told me you fired them because they were going to tell me that you'd stolen Marcie from Steve, and the two of you sent this picture to him to rub his nose in it. They said you were saving a copy for me, for after the divorce!" Flames practically leaped from her eyes.

Gloria! She was the graphic artist who had fixed up the photo. She and Steve were getting their revenge on me. In retrospect, it might have been a mistake not to let Julie know about the photo.

More grunts and drooling, to no avail. I saw that Julie was wearing some new, sexy lingerie. Behind her, I saw Steve lying naked on my bed. My eyes widened, and Julie noticed it.

"I told you I was going to try new things in the bedroom. You've been after me for years for anal sex, and Steve volunteered to help out by taking my virginity there."

Steve smirked at me from behind her. "I've set up a camera, so we can share this with everyone you know." I saw the video camera on its tripod by the bedroom door.

While tears streamed down my face, Steve kissed and caressed Julie, then lubed up her anus and his penis, and proceeded to fuck her up the butt. She winced and whimpered at first, but then relaxed and actually seemed to have several orgasms before Steve dumped his load up into her.

"Oh, that was better than I ever dreamed." She ran her hands downs Steve's chest and said, "We've got to do that a lot more!" Then she turned back and looked at me.

"But I haven't forgotten you, love. I can see how much you enjoy anal intercourse. Come on in, boys!" In walked Gloria with three naked black men, sporting very large erections. My first thought was, no, those dicks would tear Julie up. But then a chill ran through me when she grabbed the lube and hopped off the bed. "Just give me a minute to get you prepped, and the boys will give you all the anal you want, while Gloria introduces me to the joys of Sappho! New things all over, honey, just like I promised."

I was screaming around the dildo as first one, then another black cock was unceremoniously shoved up my ass, while Julie screamed her delight as Gloria dived between her legs, licking and munching up a storm. When Gloria moved up to sit on Julie's face, Steve moved down and ran his cock up Julie's cunt.

The men pulled the dildo out of my mouth, but it was still jammed open, and before I could try to tell Julie that it was all fake, the first black cock was thrust into my mouth.

Meanwhile, my prostate was being battered and milked, and my penis erupted. "Look," Steve gleefully pointed it out to Julie and Gloria. "The faggot loves it." Julie and Gloria broke out in peals of laughter.

In spite of the pain, somewhere along the line I passed out. How long, and how many times they fucked me, I don't know. When I awoke, I hurt all over, and my mouth was thick with what I assumed was cum. Gloria and the blacks were gone. Only Steve and Julie remained.

Julie stood in front of me, spreading lube on her hand. "I thought we might try fisting," she giggled as she moved behind me. More tears, drool and grunts from me, as she twisted and shoved her hand up my ravaged ass. I passed out again.

When consciousness returned again, Steve was undoing the stocks and the restraints that had held me down. I stood up and staggered on numb legs and feet. As Steve walked back towards where Julie sat smiling on the bed, he quipped over his shoulder, "I bet you really are a big asshole now, boss!"

I grabbed a large perfume bottle off Julie's dresser, and crashed it down on Steve's skull. He dropped like a rock. Julie stopped smiling and laughing as her wide eyes followed Steve down to the floor. She sat frozen as I limped over to the bed and brought the bottle down on her head.

As she lay there naked with her legs spread, I thought of introducing her to the joys of fisting, but decided I should flee before Steve woke up. I didn't think I was in any shape to take someone on, other than by surprise. Also, I was assuming that the rest of the house was empty -- it may not have been.

I grabbed my pants with the car keys off the chair where they lay, and grabbed the video camera, tripod and all. I tried walking down the stairs, but ended up sitting down and sliding my aching ass down to the bottom of the stairway. I left a trail of blood on the carpet.

I stumbled naked out to the car and threw the camera into the backseat and drove several blocks before pulling over and putting on my trousers. The car seat was bloody mess. For some reason, that started my sobbing again. I sat in the car weeping, but finally started the engine and drove to the emergency room.

I left the car in the ambulance lane and limped into the ER. A nurse walked up to me and I asked her to help me, and to call the police. She led me to a bay and put me on a bed. A policeman was there in short order. Turns out he was already in the emergency room.

I explained what happened to the cop as a doctor examined my rectum. "There's a video camera in the backseat of my car, in the ambulance lane. They recorded the whole thing! You've got to secure that camera." I urged the cop to go get it, which he did.

A patrol car was sent to my house, where Julie and Steve were still unconscious. They were taken into custody and brought to the hospital to be examined for their injuries. I didn't see them. By then, I had been anesthetized and rushed to surgery to have my injuries repaired.

Epilogue

Julie, Steve and Gloria were arrested that day for, among other charges, drugging me, holding me hostage and for physical and sexual assault, and/or conspiracy to have those things done. The three black men turned out to be gay friends of Gloria and her wife, who had thought the whole thing just some kind of lark against an abusive husband.

Lawyers descended upon me, offering to handle lawsuits against everyone involved. I went along with it for Gloria and the black men, two of whom turned out to live in the same exclusive neighbor as Gloria, and had as deep of pockets as Gloria's wife. The third black was just a middle class guy, so I wouldn't see as much from that lawsuit.

I filed for divorce from Julie, and used her actions to keep almost all the marital assets for myself. The judge insisted that we leave $50,000 in an account for Julie, to help her get back on her feet when she's released from prison in 8 to15 years.

I actually didn't sue Steve. He had a wife and a 5-year old daughter, whom I didn't feel should be impoverished because of him. I did visit the wife, to tell her I wouldn't sue if she divorced him and took his assets away from him. Turned out, she planned to do that, anyway.

I've visited the prisons where Julie, Gloria, Steve and the blacks are jailed. Not to visit them, but rather their cellmates. I've arranged through their lawyers, using money from the settlements I've gotten, to put $100 a week into their accounts if they arrange to have my assailants sexually assaulted at least once a week. The cellmates could do it, or they could hire another prisoner for the job. Makes no difference to me. I also suggested that they could prostitute them out and keep that income as well.

For Julie's cellmate, who I had arranged with a prison guard to be a very mean bull dyke, I offered an extra $25 a week if she would introduce Julie at least three times a week to the joys of anal and vaginal fisting. Fortunately for Julie, her cellmate's hands are twice the size of hers, so she'll probably have more joy than I did from the experience.

Should make for an interesting prison experience. New things in the bedroom, or cell in this case.

The silver lining, other than enough money from the settlements to set me up for life, was that Marcie came to the hospital every day while I recovered, and held my hand. Turns out that my wife had reason to be jealous.