MissileToe Mania

Margaret Sanderson, Vice President and director of marketing for PLEEZE ME Products had been reprimanded for her apparent deficiency in developing innovative new merchandize. The CEO, Stephen Miller, indicated he would give the young, ambitious and beautiful MBA one last chance.

“Either do it, Margaret, or I will have no choice but to ask for your resignation. If you refuse to resign I will have no alternative but to terminate your employment which will make it much more difficult for you to find another job.”

“But Mr. Miller…”

“No buts. Your mission, Margaret, should you choose to accept it, is to make us number one in the sale of personal sexual stimulation accoutrements. I am sick and tired of hearing and reading about that Doc Johnson fellow who is always king of the dildo hill. He’s not even a real Ph.D like I am or you want to be.”

“But Mr. Miller…”

“When the frenzied holiday shopping kicks off on Thanksgiving weekend, I want you to have a product on the shelves and available on the internet that dominates. Last year shoppers spent more than $200 billion on X-Mas. The market share you garner for us, with the emphasis on X, better display at least nine zeroes with the dollar sign.”

“But Mr. Miller…”

“What the fuck do you want, Margaret? And will you please stop whining.”

“I guess I have no choice, Mr. Miller. But I must ask--does this have anything to do with the fact that I refuse to have sex with you?”

“Margaret! How dare you! I was intoxicated that night at the retirement party for Nelson when I requested that you perform fellatio.”

“Mr. Miller, I think your exact words were, ‘Blow me, bitch, if you want to get to the top.’ And you exposed yourself when you said it.”

“Goodbye, Margaret. And I suspect it will be goodbye for good soon unless you come up with something as popular as ZipZaps, but ones you can screw or stick in a pussy. On the other hand, Margaret, your future with the company would be very secure if you decided to…uh…cooperate with me with respect to my private needs. You are an incredibly attractive and desirable woman. One should make the most of their most outstanding attributes.”

“Mr. Miller, I would rather be homeless, on unemployment, and riding the bus instead of driving my Mercedes than to humiliate myself by sucking or screwing you.”

“It’s your decision, Margaret, and a very stupid one. I expect weekly reports on your progress. Our risk manager will be watching your every move. Any hint that this might turn into a Hello Kitty, Buzz Lightyear or Clifford the Big Red Dog unsafe product on the U.S. Public Interest Research Group’s list of hazardous toys and the project will be immediately terminated, as will you.”

Margaret turned and walked slowly out of Mr. Miller’s office. For the next week all she could think about was coming up with some new product that would be the X-Mas rage.

Ah yes, the holidays, and didn’t that bring back memories of Margaret’s youth. Those sweet days of puppy love and romance seemed so far away from the reality of the cruel cold corporate world she found herself in today. Now her only lovers consisted mostly of latex. But that seemed true of most young and attractive and ambitious professional women. They could find no time for real relationships for the sake of the career. It had to be quick with no strings attached.

Fondly remembering her first sexual experience, that familiar itch began between Margaret’s legs. She lost her virginity under the mistletoe. The mistletoe had long been a sexual symbol and kissing under it had been going on since the Greek festival of Saturnalia. Mistletoe, the Phoradendron Flavescens, is thought to bestow life and fertility, be a protection against poisoning, and to have aphrodisiac effects. Primitive marriage rites often featured mistletoe and it became the sacred plant of Frigga, goddess of love.

The proper etiquette is that a man should pluck a berry when he kisses a girl under the mistletoe, and when the berry is gone, there should be no more kissing. But Margaret’s father had not stopped with the kissing, and it was not a matter of a berry. No, indeed, it was her cherry that was plucked under the mistletoe that X-Mas eve.

Margaret had just obtained a driver’s license a few weeks before and Daddy bought her a sports car for X-Mas. She loved it and loved him for giving it to her, in more ways than one. Decorations including mistletoe adorned their luxurious home everywhere. Some hung right above the upstairs bathroom door. She had just showered and came out of the bathroom with only a towel around her.

Daddy just happened to walk by at that moment and he startled her. “Daddy, what are you doing here? I thought you went shopping with Mom.” Margaret didn’t even seem to notice the towel had fallen from her ripe young body.

“Your Aunt Linda took your mother instead. I didn’t particularly want to fight that mall traffic anyway. Linda had some shopping to do too.” Margaret’s mother had been severely disabled with Lou Gehrig’s disease and couldn’t drive. Her parents had not been sexually intimate for several years. Margaret knew her father had a mistress.

“Daddy, I just love the sports car!” She hugged him ferociously.

“Honey, you lost your towel. And you are standing under the mistletoe.”

“Well then, kiss me, Daddy!” He did. “Daddy, carry me into my bedroom and make love to me. Please? There is also mistletoe hanging from the canopy of my Barbie bed. It’s everywhere, it’s everywhere! Let me give you something very, very special too for X-Mas. Dang, I love that car! I want you to be my first. Pretty please?” He did.

Margaret’s father had since passed away but she reminisced often about the love they shared while he lived. Reaching into her dresser drawer, she found the jumbo eight inch multi-speed vibrating dong under her panties. It didn’t take long to scratch her itch, but she felt so unemotionally satisfied, although her physical needs had been gratified for the moment. The foreplay with Daddy had been so much fun. Margaret’s favorite activity had to be when they sucked each other’s toes. That really got her hot. And she loved the feel of Daddy’s cock in her mouth and squirting his semen down her throat and all over her face. Her latex dong certainly didn’t fulfill those requirements adequately.

All this thinking made Margaret thirsty. She went to the kitchen and mixed up her favorite protein shake, blending two level scoops of the formula with twelve fluid ounces of mineral water. Yes, she needed her protein nutrition, but unfortunately these days she got it from a bottle. She missed sucking Daddy’s cock but she wasn’t about to go around giving guys blow jobs just to get her protein fix.

Margaret pondered for days what product she could come up with that might save her job. And then the light bulb went on brightly one night as she masturbated with her dildo and cried sadly about the loss of her father. Yes, she would design a product that would please her, and if it pleased her, it most likely would please others.

A few weeks later, Margaret had a prototype MissileToe in her hand, in her mouth, in her pussy, and a few other places. It was absolutely incredible! For the first time ever, she had an emotionally satifying relationship with an inanimate object.

The MissileToe design was incredibly unique. The larger dong resembled not a penis, but a big toe. The smaller one, to be utilized principally as a butt plug, looked like a little toe. She giggled merrily. And the missile part, of course, was that the product had been designed to strike the appropriate target, such as, for example, a clitoris. Not only that, but in the middle of the double dongs were a super-stretchy incredibly soft jelly pussy and a life-like tight jelly anus. Both were white, of course, just like the berries of the mistletoe, and to symbolize virgin pussy and ass. Several covers to keep the heads of the dongs warm were included with the product. Little Santa hats came with the X-Mas edition.

Margaret had fretted considerably about the appropriate color of the toe dongs, finally concluding it definitely had to be green. Yes, she laughed, the MissileToe looked like mistletoe. But what she liked most had to be the squirting. The big toe ejaculated a thick, sticky protein drink mix. The chemist, per Margaret’s specifications, created the substance to be as similar in texture and appearance to semen as possible. She stuck the big green toe in her mouth and sucked it hungrily. “Cum in my mouth, Daddy, shoot a big load down my throat. Please, please, Daddy! Give it up to me.” She squeezed the bulb and gloriously savored the taste of the sumptuous cum-like protein mixture.

The next step, Margaret knew, had to be market research. She decided to do the initial analysis herself and picked a local sports bar for the testing ground. On a Sunday afternoon no less, during NFL games, what she felt surely would be the optimum time for a critical evaluation of the product. If the MissileToe could distract rabid football fans from their favorite team then it certainly would be a huge success and demand would greatly exceed supply. She comprised charts displaying potential marginal productivity and incremental profitability.

The bar had five televisions and that cable package where you get all the games. Talk about eyes glued to one boob tube or another. It appeared half the patrons cheered and the other half pissed and moaned. Margaret heard shouts like, “If the Cowboys only had naked cheerleaders they could make the playoffs!” and “Kordell is a faggot, put in Maddox!”

Margaret sat on a bar stool next to a hulking hillbilly wearing a long Redskins jersey that came down almost to his knees, no pants, and high heels. “Excuse me, sir, obviously you work out---how often?”

“Lady, the Skins are losing by two touchdowns and they got a college quarterback and a college coach. I’m fucking depressed and I don’t want to talk. Where the fuck is George Allen?”

“I think he died, sir.”

“What about Joe Gibbs, lady?”

“He’s into NASCAR now. Can I show you something, sir?”

“Whatever, lady, I can’t stand to watch this shit anymore. The second game will be on soon. I hope it’s snowing like a bitch in Philadelphia and Tampa Bay gets frostbite, especially that sapsucker Sapp.

“Sir, speaking of sap sucking--how often do you have sex?”

He grunted sarcastically. “My fucking wife spreads her legs for me about once a month, and then only because she wants to have another fucking kid. Like we don’t have enough rug rats.”

Margaret unveiled the MissileToe. “Sir, with this product, you can have sex any time you want, any way you want. And if you suck the big green toe, it will give you a burst of energy you simply will not believe. I can tell you are a body builder.” His huge gut hung over his pants like Dunlop’s disease.

“Well, yeah, I pump a little iron, lady. So I just suck on the end of the big toe? Can you put Budweiser in it?”

“No, sir, what will shoot down your throat is a results-oriented formula that will provide the miconutrients and muscle-building factors that will make you a mean and lean fighting machine. You look like Hulk Hogan already, but this will make you look like The Rock. “

“No shit? Okay, I’ll give her a try.” He began to suck on the big green toe vigorously.

All eyes had turned from the boob tubes and riveted on the beautiful well-dressed woman and her prospective fat and sloppy customer. “Oh look, Bubba is sucking a dick!” a red neck at the end of the bar shouted in delirious delight. I knew he was gay!”

“That’s not a dick, asshole!” Margaret snapped viciously. “It’s a big toe. You should try it. Suck your woman’s toes once in awhile and you might get laid more than once a year.”

Bubba sucked the big green toe as if he were inhaling a double whopper with extra cheese. When it shot down his throat, he jumped up and yelled, “Hot damn! I think I’ll run around the bar about a thousand times.” Outside he went, and he never even bothered to replace his high heels with shoes more conducive to jogging.

Margaret began to take orders and the barflys stood in line to sign up. “Excuse me, she finally muttered, “I have to urinate.” The bathroom was downstairs next to the kitchen which featured some kind of something resembling city chicken advertised as “shit on a stick.” The guy who had been paying the most attention to Bubba sucking the big green toe followed her down the stairs.

When Margaret got to the bathroom, she turned around to see who followed. He pushed her up against the wall and began groping. “Pretty lady, I’d like to have the real thing. How about it?”

“Uh…I…uh…don’t think so, sir. I need to be wined and dined at least six times before I give it up. The only exception to that rule involves a trip to Las Vegas, a cruise, and/or furs and jewelry. But I’ll let you use my demo MissileToe.”

“I dunno, lady, I’d much rather screw you than a piece of rubber.”

“C’mon, give the MissileToe a try. I’ll help you. You’ll really like this, I promise.” Margaret unzipped his pants and reached inside and pulled him out, stoking his penis gently. “You’re almost ready, big fella. Here, maybe this will help.” She unbuttoned her blouse, unsnapped the front clasp of her bra and placed his hands on her voluptuous breasts.

“Uh…okay…uh…lady….I’ll…uh…give your MissileToe a go. I’m horny as hell, and I must admit, it looks much more inviting than my girlfriend’s hairy nasty pussy. Talk about a fucking jungle. “

“Okay, honey,” Margaret instructed patiently, “just stick your dick in this real nice pussy. That’s it. Doesn’t that feel good?”

“Uh…uh…yeah! Reminds me of my niece, Jessica. Damn, she has tiny titties, but that nice tight little cunt can squeeze my dick all night.”

“There you go, stud. Pretend you are…uh…having intercourse with Jessica.”

“Okay. Fuck you, Jessica, you cock-sucking dirty little whore!” he screamed, plunging into the fake pussy. “I’ll fuck your stupid little brains out! You’ll be so bowlegged they’ll call you a fucking cowgirl at school.” Two minutes later he shot his load into the world’s soon to be favorite pocket pal. One of the more innovative features of the MisslieToe was that the pussy and/or anus could be readily removed from the double dong to facilitate transportation and concealment, not to mention cleaning.

Jessica’s uncle quickly stuck his dick back in his pants and rushed back upstairs just before the second half kicked off. Margaret, reflecting on the success of the Missiletoe thus far, took her time rejoining the group. When she again pulled up a barstool, Jessica’s uncle was telling the crowd how he got his rocks off, didn’t miss one single play, and didn’t even have to muff it. They all hooted and hollered louder than they did when Britney Spears sang the National Anthem before the Redskins game. She forgot some of the words but she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Next Margaret visited a nursing home with the MissileToe, figuring these oldies but goodies didn’t have much energy to chase it, but they would fuck it or suck it if they had the good fortune to catch it. She was right on. The old ladies took out their dentures and gummed on the big green toe like they had chomped on their long forgotten first love. Margaret caught one old dude licking the fake pussy and mumbling something to his late wife like, “Bertha, you taste so much better dead than when you were alive.”

Margaret considered the adult book store a real challenge. She entered a booth and stuck the big green toe through the glory hole on the left side. A voice soon responded, “You got one ugly dick, dude, but there’s not much action here today. The usual clientele must have gone somewhere else for lunch.” Soon she heard slurping noises and after about five minutes, she squeezed the bulb and shot a load of the sticky protein shake down the throat of the guy on the other side. “Hey, man, he complimented, tastes great! Some of these dudes should lay off the garlic and limburger.” Margaret met with similar favorable results when she placed the fake anus up against the glory hole on the right wall of the booth. A couple times she thought the admirers on the opposite side just might shake the walls down.

The preliminary market research success of the MissileToe convinced Mr. Miller and the board of directors to proceed with mass production. Margaret did the advertising promotions herself. The most popular commercial turned out to be the one where a beautiful Victoria’s Secret model, played by Margaret herself, complained of a sore throat, all harsh and dry. Diagnosed as incredible thirst, it could only be quenched by a few squirts from the MissileToe. In the bit, after Margaret sucks the big green toe her bra pops off and smiling seductively, she purrs, “Great taste that won’t fill you up and never lets you down.” She got the idea from the Bud Light commercial during the first quarter of the Steelers vs. Jaguars game they watched at the bar. The FBI and CIA forced the company to take the second best commercial off the air. It depicted a terrorist shooting a SA-7 shoulder-fired missile and narrowly missing an Israeli Boeing 757 charter jet. Then Margaret appeared, naked, taking the Santa hat off and inserting the big green toe in her pussy. Initially reluctant to appear nude, she had attempted to persuade Dennis Franz to do that one, but he refused, saying, “I don’t do commercials.” But Dennis did admit the MissileToe she gave him cleared up his hemorrhoids.

X-Mas morning finally came at the Miller household. Stephen slept in, fatigued from passing out the hams to employees the night before, not giving the female workers theirs until they had a good look at his pork. Then he had picked up his three young daughters from the Girl Scout meeting and took them to midnight mass, making them once again vow everlasting chastity, at least until marriage to a wealthy suitor.

“Honey?” Stephen inquired of his wife, who smiled smugly, engrossed in some romance novel, “aren’t you going to…uh…you know?” Mrs. Miller gave her husband a blow job once and only once a year, on X-Mas morning. It was her annual gift to him and she figured it was worth it, avoiding all that shopping.

“In your wet dreams,” she snapped. “Don’t bother me, I’m reading.” When he turned his head, she took another hit on the MissileToe, and petted it like she had her first puppy, Fred, and then stuck it back in her pussy.

Stephen, frustrated and upset by his wife’s rejection, tiptoed downstairs, knowing his three doting young daughters would lavish affection on him. Particularly since Santa had brought them their favorite Play Station 2 games and Barbie Rapunzel dolls.

There sat Sarah with the little toe up her ass and squealing like a pig. Emily jerked off the big toe, gulping the emissions that spurted out. Amy had her big green toe inserted in her pussy as far as she could get it and writhed on the floor like she was having an epileptic seizure.

“Daddy,” Sarah pleaded, “next year would you please get us some Ken dolls? With some big fucking dicks?”

Stephen fainted. When he woke up there was a cum like substance in his mouth and all over his face. At first he thought his gay brother Reginald had paid a visit after all these years. Sure, he sucked Reggie’s dick and vice versa when they were kids but that was eons ago. These days he preferred pussy as long as it wasn’t his wife’s. Now fully alert he rushed to the phone to call Margaret to offer her a promotion. No answer. He picked up the MissileToe his daughter Amy had dropped when she ran to the bathroom. Apparently the little toe up her ass had done something for the constipation she had been whining about. He began to suck the little green toe. It seemed to taste like caviar he thought. Margaret did in fact resign. She started her own company and now is a multi-millionaire. Soon, just like Martha Stewart, she will have her own television show. All thanks to the mistletoe and the MissileToe. Stephen Miller eventually went bankrupt. He tried to market caviar that everybody said tasted like shit. Apparently his taste buds couldn’t tell the difference between paddlefish eggs from Arkansas and the unfertilized eggs of the Russian female beluga sturgeon. His wife left him and married Bubba, even though he never divorced his first spouse. Her wedding dress was a Redskins jersey and the best man and maid of honor were both MissileToe. The Miller girls joined a convent. The nuns go longer get none.