Susan's Corporate Servitude Pt. 02

All eyes went to Susan when she entered the room. She was certainly dressed better than anyone else, in her tight blue pinstripe suit, dark beige stockings, and black spike-heeled shoes.

Gary got the room's attention. After a short condescending speech about teamwork and productivity, Gary announced, "Three months ago when this contest was announced, I know that some of you were told that the winning line would not only get a monetary bonus, and a party, but a party with a stripper. And when halfway through the contest it was announced that it wouldn't be just any stripper, but our own employee Susan, your line soared ahead of the other lines and won the contest! So here she is, Susan!"

The crowd erupted with cheers as Susan stood dumbfounded. Did she hear him right? She was brought there to be a stripper? NO!

But when Joe and Mick grabbed her arms and led her to a table and pulled out a chair, Susan stepped up on the chair. From there she was practically pushed up onto the table. It was a good thing that she had a lot of practice wearing spiked heels these past several months, or she would have fallen. She stood in a daze, looking down at the dirty laborers who were now sitting in chairs around her, and the rest of the male audience standing behind them. She was growing a little dizzy.

But when some CD player started playing a rap song, she started moving her shoulders back and forth. As the men below her started calling her name, she recognized the song as the one in the rap video that Gary had played earlier. She then figured out that she was supposed to dance like the women in those types of videos.

Susan was at the height of self-consciousness, and moved stiffly. Her skirt was so short that she knew that the men sitting below her could see right up it. She self-consciously tried to pull her skirt hem down on both sides. But as the black men in the crowd yelled, "Shake that thang! Shake your butt!" the suburban wife raised her arms up into the air and thrust her hips in and out. The immediate result was that her skirt rose six inches, exposing red garters holding up her stockings.

Susan was experiencing the now-familiar feelings of humiliation. Yet it seemed to her that she was having an out-of-body experience, as her body took control to dance and shake erotically for her all-male audience. Her feet were spread wide and her knees were bent, causing her skirt to hike up higher. She thrust her hips in and out rapidly, running her fingers through her long brown hair.

With shouts of "Take it off!" from two balding old white men seated below her, Susan knew that that's exactly what Gary expected her to do. And as much as she dreaded it, she unbuttoned her blazer. Her crowd reacted loudly as they glimpsed her red brassier, and cheered as she slowly let the jacket drop off her shoulders. Her lacy red push-up bra was pressing her tits up and out of her cups, and they danced and jiggled independently from the rest of her torso.

Susan turned her back to the crowd and shook her ass at them like the black girls on MTV, or at least as close as she could approximate them. The tight navy pinstripe skirt hiked most of the way up her butt. The crowd howled at Susan's red "booty pants," her square-cut lacy panties that let the bottom third of her ass cheeks hang out the bottoms. Her ass flesh jiggled in the men's faces.

Susan reached behind her and unhooked the clasp on her skirt. She slowly pulled the zipper down, exposing more of the red booty pants. Even unzipped the garment was super-tight, and she had a time of it yanking down the skirt from side to side, until it slid down her legs, and she kicked it off.

Dancing in little red push-up bra, red booty pants, red garters and beige hose, and high heels, Susan faced the crowd again. She was not a model with a perfect body-she was just an average-looking wife. Her tummy was a tad rounded. Her thighs had just a little too much meat on them, causing them to jiggle. Her ass was not perfect, although Susan thought it was better than some of those big-butt girls in the rap videos. But the crowd seemed more than pleased at what they were seeing, voicing their approval. As much as she was repulsed by the drooling men, Susan felt physical arousal by their positive response to her body.

She grabbed the waistband of her booty pants, and slid them down. Beneath them she was wearing a pair of skinny red silk thongs. She dropped the booty pants, and thrust her hips out with her legs spread wide. Her little thong was just a narrow band of red silk, dipping lower at the center, pulled tight over her protruding pussy mound. They were soaking wet, sticking to her skin and being pulled into her pussy slit. At both the top and on the sides, a couple of stray light brown pubic hairs were visible.

Susan turned around and showed the men her bare butt cheeks. She shook her cheeks like the black chicks, and managed to ripple the flesh pretty well for a white chick.

A stocky Hispanic man stood up and held out a dollar bill. She didn't understand him at first as he was speaking loudly in Spanish. Susan danced to the edge of her table, and the man slid the dollar into the waistband of her thong. She shivered as she felt the man's flesh touch her bare hip. A couple of other plant workers approached with bills, followed by the managers. They got stuffed into her garter belt, stocking tops, cleavage, the rear of her thongs, and the front of her thongs. Hands were jostling her, and getting in some feels. The top of her left nipple was exposed when a bill got stuffed in her cup, and more pubic hair was getting exposed. Somebody tried to slip a bill in her ass crack. Susan saw Gary use his cell phone to take a photo of her with money sticking to her.

After more calls for her to "take it off," Susan dropped her right bra strap, then her left. She put her hands over her bra cups, pushing up her cleavage more. Her fingers tickled the front clasp. She unhooked it. Slowly, she opened the front-hook bra. Finally she threw her chest out and let the bra fall behind her. Her white cone-shaped breasts stuck out and freely shook and jiggled. Susan was as mortified as she'd ever been standing up with her chest out shaking her tits for all of these men. But she'd never received such an outpouring ovation for anything she'd done in her life. She hated it, but she couldn't have been stopped now if someone tried to make her stop. She threw her arms up in the air and thrust her tits out. Then she shook her shoulders back and forth, feeling her titties shake side to side. More and more faces were plastered against the cafeteria windows watching her.

Susan stood at the very edge of the table, and slowly lowered her thongs. Her trimmed pubic hair became completely exposed. Susan now stood naked except for her red garters, hose, shoes, and jewelry.

As she danced virtually naked, she could see several men making gestures like they were beating off. Then she looked down to see that one of the Hispanic men actually had his cock out of his pants and was beating off. As Susan rhythmically thrust her hips forward in his direction, he thrust his cock in her direction. It was like a simulated fuck with three feet of space between them. It seemed to make Susan both more embarrassed and aroused.

Then she saw a second man playing with his hard cock. One of the white men with an accent reached out and grabbed her ass. Then a Hispanic man cupped her pussy and rubbed it rapidly. Hands were reaching in from all over. A large black hand covered her right tit and squeezed it. Soon a dozen or more hands were groping her naked body all over.

The hands were lifting Susan's body off of her feet. She was passed hand-to-hand over the crowd. Hands were reaching up and groping her, as she was forcibly crowd-surfed, through the small room. She ended up being dropped feet-first in the middle of the room. She could no longer see the people at the windows, and very few of the managers. She felt alone, surrounded by the smelly, perspiring, intoxicated factory roughnecks. A hand found her pussy, and a finger was inserted deeply into her wet slit. Another hand spread her ass cheeks, and a digit was roughly forced deep into her asshole.

As the other hands groped her tits and the rest of her torso, Susan stood with her legs spread, having fingers simultaneously wriggling in her pussy and asshole, almost seeming to touch each other inside. She squealed, begged them to stop, but nobody could hear her with all of the noise.

Somehow she ended up being pulled by her hair by a large black man. He sat on the edge of a table, and forced her down to her knees in front of him. He held her by her hair as he pulled a massive dark cock out of his pants and boxers. Then he held the back of her head with two hands, forcing her mouth down onto the thick massive ebony cock. Susan opened her mouth to receive it. She had to stretch her mouth wide to get it over the purple head, and took several inches into her mouth. But the muscular black man wasn't satisfied. He stood up, held the back of her head with both hands, and thrust his hips rapidly in and out, pulling her head into it each time, effectively fucking her mouth.

Susan gagged on the giant cock each time it poked the back of her throat. "Guck guck guck guck!" Were the sounds coming out of her mouth, loud enough to be heard by the nearest men. Her tits were being pawed and grabbed, as well as her ass and pussy as she kneeled before the black man, but it was the giant wad of cock in her mouth that she tried to deal with.

Without warning in all of the chaos, the cock erupted, shooting hot jism down into her throat. The white young wife swallowed some, choked on even more, some spit out her nose, and some dribbled out her mouth. Finally the big hands released her head, and the slippery big cock popped out of her mouth.

It was only then that she saw that three men of various colors were jerking their cocks off near her face. She felt a squirt of jizm hid the left side of her face by a cumming cock. Moments later cum sprayed her right side, hitting her in the eye. Then another one from the front sprayed her nose. She was now covered with cum all over her face.

Susan was lifted up and laid on the edge of a table. A Hispanic cock was stuffed into her pussy, and her feet were being hoisted up onto the man's shoulders. Her head was turned to her left, and an old white man's cock was forced into her lips. Susan sucked cock as she was being fucked, and had several hands pawing her young sensitive tits.

"MMMPPHHHHHHH! "MMMBBLLLMMMMMPH!" Susan moaned through the cock in her mouth. The incredibly rough play from these sweaty men was bringing her waves of multiple orgasms. "MMMUMMMMMUUMMMMMMM!"

Somehow the cocks exited her holes. Other men flipped her over. She was laid out on her stomach over the table, with her ass hanging off of one end and her head hanging on the other. She felt a cock sliding into her pussy from behind, as another cock was being shoved into her face. Even with all of the noise, she could hear the slapping sound of some unknown man's hips slapping against her ass. She eventually got into a rhythm between the cock in her mouth, and the cock in her slippery pussy. She was emitting muffled grunts with each thrust into her pussy. "OUUUUWWWWMMMMPH!"

She was nearly passed out from her orgasms when she felt herself being lifted off the table. She felt and saw herself being carried out of the cafeteria, out into the factory. Besides the hands that were holding up and groping her naked body, a number of men were following behind, like a mini-parade.

She was carried somewhere into the bowels of the factory, weaving and winding down narrow aisles, past numerous noisy machines, so noisy that she couldn't hear her own screams when the men groped her hard. At each machine, she would see more workers, who put down their gloves and tools and followed the crowd.

Susan was thrown down on her back, onto the end of a two-foot wide conveyor, onto the belt, which covered steel rollers. The conveyor was not moving, but her body rolled up and down as the men positioned her. She looked up to see the largest of the men that had been carrying her, standing at the end of the conveyor, between her legs. The crew-cut man, wearing a tight, dirty t-shirt, dropped his pants, pulled out a very large uncircumcised cock, and aimed it at Susan's pussy. Susan struggled, but found her arms and legs held down by the men who were standing on each side of her.

The others cheered as the Big Crew-cut Brute thrust his cock deep into Susan's fuck tunnel. He threw her feet above his shoulders like she was a doll, and rammed her hard, again and again.

Susan looked around her. Past the numerous old factory workers and their dirty clothes, greasy hair and bad teeth, were all sorts of large, noisy machines. These machines spat fire and smoke out into the factory, and shouted out various rhythmic banging. The banging seemed to set up the rhythm for the man who fucked her. The combination of bad fluorescent ceiling lights, flickering orange from the flames, and multicolored lights on the machines, left everything in strange flickering colored shadows.

Susan took one last look at her dark dirty and noisy surroundings, and the countless shouting and leering men, before her head was turned and she had a smelly cock shoved in it. She fucked and sucked and had her tits felt on the hard dirty conveyor.

When the Big Crew-cut Brute shot his cum in her pussy, he pulled out and was quickly replaced by the second in what became a countless line of dirty men. There was the short, chunky, broad-shouldered Hispanic with the greasy black hair and black mustache. There was the Ancient gray-bearded white guy with practically no teeth. Then the large muscular black man with the dreadlocks and the enormous cock. The younger Polish and other Eastern European accents with the tattoos and piercings. The three-hundred-and-fifty pound morbidly obese man whose enormous belly hung over Susan's stomach. There were tattoos and piercings on places that Susan didn't know could be tattooed or pierced.

Men of all sizes and shapes of cocks and colors and textures of pubic hair, thrusting in and out of her pussy and in her mouth, sprayed jizm on her entire front torso, but mostly her face and belly.

Eventually Susan stopped struggling, and her arms were no longer held. Instead, men placed cocks in them, and Susan jerked them off as she was fucked and sucked. She was expected to give real good hand jobs, too, and if she didn't she got her tits slapped.

There was no variety. It was endless assembly-line sex by career assembly-line workers.

This is hell, Susan thought. Yes, the Christian wife thought, this is really hell. It's practically all here, the darkness and fire and smoke and heat and noise and stifling air. And the rough laughing monstrous men, eternal line of cocks using her vagina and mouth, and the countless hands grabbing her flesh. Pure hell.

By the first half-dozen or so fucks she received, she learned how to relax her vaginal muscles to keep them loose. What was it that that basketball coach said, "If you're getting raped, you might as well lay back and enjoy it"? She layed back and endured it, anyways, and found that if she didn't fight it, her pussy stayed moist, and she could actually get physical pleasure despite the emotional pain. Even the constant groping of her tits, whether rough squeezes and tweaks, or more gentle massaging, came from rough calloused hands, and felt good to Susan's sensitive breasts. She managed to maintain a nearly steady degree of mini-orgasm, feeling the tingling and the involuntary shuddering, until she was so weak that she was lightheaded and dizzy.

Susan lost all track of time. She had no idea when the foreman and the men from her office finally found her and led her, practically carried her, out of the factory, got her dressed, and back into the minivan.

CHAPTER 12) CONVENTION HOOKERS

Susan was ordered to fly to Las Vegas for a convention. Some months ago, this would have been the kind of perk she would look forward to. When she was back in the accounting department, traveling to warm climates was something she envied the sales and marketing staff doing. Now she was wary of what Gary had in mind for her while she was staying at a hotel and didn't have to go home to her husband at night.

Susan flew out Thursday morning; a day after the conference started, and was booked for two days in a Vegas hotel near the convention center. A large number of the other employees were flying out, too, mostly the sales and marketing staff, but some of the women from other departments, too. The Vegas trip was apparently more of a reward for some of these people than an actual working trip, Susan presumed. In fact two other women were on the same flight as Susan was; Mary, an attractive slender forty-five-year-old woman from Purchasing; and Kelly, a pretty, thirty-one-year-old wife, whose slender figure, despite a ten-month-old baby, was the envy of every mom in the company.

Susan knew what she was hiding under her long coat, but she didn't notice that Mary was also wearing a long blazer over her skirt and blouse, and that Kelly wore a long winter coat over her sweater and slacks.

When the flight arrived in Vegas, Susan and the other two women cabbed straight to the convention center. All three women, before they entered the convention floor, removed their outermost garments. It was then that it began to dawn on Susan that the other two women were in the same predicament as Susan was.

Susan had been given orders to wear the dress that she'd worn at the last Christmas party, except that Gary had one of the male interns take it to a tailor and have it modified. The black halter dress now plunged to her waist and displayed more cleavage, which made it impossible to wear a bra under it. Her boobs were also hanging out the sides of the halter, and anyone standing to either side of her could see under her breasts right through to the other side. The lining had been removed from the top, so the silhouette of her areolas could be detected through the fabric, and her puffy nipples poked through it continuously. The hem had been raised to make it a micro-mini, and it had been taken in to the point that it was so tight that she could barely sit in it. And with no slip or hose allowed, her wine-colored thong was clearly visible from the front and the back.

Susan then saw that while the new mom Kelly was wearing the same black dress slacks and blue scooping sweater that she often wore, she was not wearing a bra, and her round B-cup-sized breasts were jiggling freely, and her very dark long nipples were poking easily though the thin clinging fabric.

Mary was wearing a short white skirt, and a short-sleeved white blouse. But as Susan stood to the left of Mary, she could see now that her blouse was unbuttoned halfway down her chest, and from the side Susan could easily see inside, to Mary's small white right braless breast. As Susan gawked, Mary caught her looking, and looked down in shame, but didn't adjust herself. Mary also wore a very detectible dark thong under her white skirt.

Susan and the others arrived at their company's booth, wearing nametags, which displayed their own first name as well as the company's name in large letters. Susan saw several of the other female employees there, all dressed in what at first appeared their formal Christmas outfits, but upon closer inspection most were covering little or no underwear, exposing plenty of flesh and jiggle, and seemed shorter and tighter than they had at the Christmas party.

Gary gave the women some time to walk around to visit the other exhibitor's booths, and then return to their company's booth. Susan felt like bait walking around the hall, being stared at by so many strange men. She also saw men staring shamelessly into Mary's blouse at her exposed breast. Kelly also had many male admirers as her braless breasts bobbled down the aisles. Many of these men wound up at the company booth, where Gary schmoozed them, but also allowed them to hit on Susan and the other women.