Making Work a Better Place Ch. 04

(While technically BDSM, this is a comedic story)

*

Peggy looks at me and as if she's reading my mind says, "You will be working late today."

I try not to let my groan of despair be too audible. Peggy is nice enough to pretend not to notice.

"What can you tell me about Sylvia Winton?" Peggy begins.

"Head of Human Resources, she's married with no children. She's forty-seven and has been with the company twenty-five years. She has no known hobbies or any religious background."

"That's not much to work with," Peggy sighs. "Is there anything else?"

"Her husband is a non-entity; she doesn't bring him to any corporate parties. There was a rumor that before I got here she had an affair with someone in General Administration, but things went poorly. He was fired under suspicious circumstances and his marriage fell apart; a real ugly affair."

"How do you find this stuff out?" Peggy asks.

"People treat me like an idiot," I admit. "They say all kinds of things around me. I tend to remember what I hear. She's also never had an intern make it into the company which considering her time with the company is a bit odd."

"Joshua, who does she bring to corporate functions?" Peggy grinned.

"Usually a junior members of HR; either male or female; it doesn't seem to matter. They don't do much except follow her around and get her stuff."

"Joshua, have I told you how rewarding it is to work with you today?" Peggy smiles down at me. I get all warm and fuzzy inside.

"Actually, have you ever told me that?" I question.

"Well, I should do it more often. Now, I need you to send out a memo. You are forming an exploratory task force to create a new Intern Retention Program. I'll have you the names for the e-mail by lunch."

"Peggy, what is an Intern Retention Program?"

"Joshua, don't worry about it. I'll tell you what you need to do," Peggy assures me. I sigh in relief. For a moment I thought I'd have to do some work.

(Later that Afternoon)

"Mrs. Winton ..." Peggy informs me as Sylvia Winton comes storming into my office. The lady slams the door shut and bears down on me. I'm glad I pissed a few minutes ago because I would certainly be pissing on myself now if I hadn't.

"Mr. Townsend," Sylvia sneers, "what in hell are you doing launching a project in Human Resources without my express permission?" My hands are trembling. I look down at my palms.

"Mrs. Winton -- Sylvia, this is a project my Father wanted to put forward to pave the way for your appointment as Head of General Administration. I wasn't supposed to inform you at this stage, but I respect you. This is really a formality to bring a few members of the board around to his way of thinking. After all, if this was a hatchet job would he have given this project to me?"

Sylvia glares down at me. I gulp. Her glare becomes a sinister smile. She leans down on my desk and looks over the top of her glasses at me. All I can think of is how huge her breasts are. Good God I had never known any that big and firm before. She walks around, blouse buttoned high, but no jacket and lean over my desk. I gulp again, but for a different reason.

"Well," she purrs, "Joshua I respect your candor in this matter. I certainly won't tell anyone that you let this slip. Perhaps we can get to know each other better."

"I occasionally work late. Do you work late sometimes as well?" I ask innocently. She leans forward a little more and leers.

"I do indeed work late most nights. Maybe we can do something when we finish," she tells me.

"Maybe I can stop by your office," I respond. She looks like the cat that ate the canary, or what I imagine a cat would look like if it ate a small bird. I've never had a cat ... or a bird.

"I'm glad we cleared this little matter up. I expect you to keep me informed of the projects direction," she commands me. She pulls herself up straight, pushes out her exceptional bust line and strides to the door. She has a large ass too. She's a bit on the hefty side, but definitely succulent. She gives me one last look before opening the door and heading out. She clearly enjoys me enjoying her figure. I look at the little symbol drawn in pen of a fish on my hand.

Peggy comes in and shuts the door.

"Well?" she asks. I deflate and slump in the chair as a response. "Your survived; be proud of that," she tells me. "Did you stick to the script?"

I hold up my palms to her which have all the relevant notes scribbled on them, including the little fish that was to remind me that she is a piranha.

"Tomorrow the real work begins," Peggy promises me. I try not to let the disappointment show in my face. The weekend is only two days away and I was hoping to kick things off early Thursday afternoon. I have the feeling that Peggy is going to nix my plans.

(Thursday Morning)

Cecilia Lynski, Keisha Lynn, and Walter Rand are sitting in the Joshua Townsend's office with Peggy and me. I'm really wishing I wasn't Joshua Townsend right now.

Keisha seems to have some idea what is about to happen. Walter definitely does. He is the one who has approached Peggy. Poor Cecilia looks alone, downtrodden and dispirited. For my part, I have my lines. Peggy tells me I have to act brave and get the ball rolling.

"This program has two goals; the first one is to find out why interns weren't being retained in Human Resources and to deal with those problems. Each of them had terminated interns and Joshua Townsend wanted to know why," Peggy begins.

"Ms. Lynski, please tell me why you terminated your latest intern?" I lead off with. She flinches.

"They weren't working out," she responds weakly.

"So, Mrs. Winton didn't demand you fire Janice Nesmith? That is how it looks to us."

Cecilia looks like a cornered animal. Peggy leans forward, but I speak first.

"Cecilia, how is your private life? You've broken up with your boyfriend of five years. Did she demand that of you too?"

Cecilia starts to tremble. "I can't go against her," he rambles. "You don't know what she's like."

"Oh, I think Mr. Townsend and I have developed a firm idea of what is going on. We know what she is doing and we are putting a stop to it," Peggy begins.

By 'we' I hope Peggy is talking about 'she' and not 'me' or 'us', because I'm clueless about what's going on. I'm figuring out that Sylvia Winton isn't a nice person. I already know she is a scary person.

"She scares the crap out of me too," I tell Cecilia as I put a warm hand onto her cool trembling one. She looks into my eyes and hopefully sees something besides a vacant stare. She smiles at me, gulps and nods.

"She's terrifying alright," the woman sighs, "but what can I do?"

"We can stand up to her," Walter says. "Mr. Townsend is going to help us put her in her place. What she's doing has got to stop. We are people after all."

I am wondering how Peggy has gotten my Father involved when I notice that everyone is looking at me. Then it dawns on me that by 'Mr. Townsend' they mean me and that by 'going to help' they expect me to stop Sylvia from doing God knows what. I don't remember this being part of the job description for Office Drone.

"Mr. Townsend ..." Peggy starts. I make a command decision, off script.

"Please, everyone call me Joshua. Mr. Townsend is my Father," I announce. Peggy nods.

"Joshua wants to know what each of you have been forced to do for Mrs. Winton. From there we can formulate a plan to give her a dose of her own medicine. She's going to learn what it feels like to not be the person on top."

I learn a few things over the next several hours. Chinese take-out is better when you swap dishes with other people. When you get into a close conference with women they tend to drop down a button and loosen up their hair. Just because you are an excellent note taker doesn't make you less of a man. Also, Sylvia Winton has some serious issues as in the woman is sexually twisted and demanding -- the words S&M and nymphomaniac come up.

During a break I have to ask Peggy what a nymphomaniac is. For the life of me I can't figure out why this is considered a disorder. Someone can want too much sex? Seriously? Peggy also stops me from taking a magazine and going to the bathroom for a little personal time. She tells me it is unprofessional, as is apparently begging Paulette to meet me in the storage room. I have never worked so much in one day my entire time in the company. I tell Peggy I won't be in tomorrow. She tells me that I will. I show her who is boss. I cancel my plans for tomorrow.

I learn she has deceived me. I will be working Saturday, and Sunday too. I pull Peggy aside and tell her there must be some law against making people work on the weekend -- at least rich people. She tells me those are Child Labor Laws, but they no longer apply to me. Apparently being child-like doesn't qualify. Peggy says she had confidence in me. I don't know why but that matters. I am so upset that I almost miss the decision that I will be a critical part of their plan. I think these people have lost their minds. I can't be trusted to buy myself a birthday present I like.

(Later that Friday afternoon; end of the work week)

I come around my desk when Sylvia Winton walks in. She looks me over. My shirt is half unbuttoned and I've taken my shoes off. I resist the urge to throw myself out the window, which is good because I'm four stories up and Peggy says the glass is unbreakable. I'm supposed to be Man-candy which is another name for bait.

"You said you had something you needed my help with, Mr. Townsend?" she says with suspicion.

"Please, call you Joshua," I say as I work a smile onto my face. "May I call you Sylvia?"

"You may call me Mrs. Winton for now," she responds with a hint of interest.

"I would like to do things with you Mrs. Winton. Would you like to do things to me?" I offer.

"To you?"

"I feel ... like I've been bad. You are such a powerful woman. Do you think I've been bad?"

Sylvia reacts by shutting and locking the door as she licks her lips.

"What makes you think I would do anything to you?" she smiles.

"I felt something when you came into my office yesterday. I've never felt anything like that before. You can teach me things; things I need to know. Can you teach me?" I tell her. This isn't a total lie. I felt something yesterday when she came into the office -- terror.

"I think you have been bad, Joshua and I think I should teach you how bad you've been," she grins with a raw hunger that nearly sends me off my game.

"I have a new desk," I gulp.

"I see that," she says without taking her eyes off mine. Peggy says that I have to possess a certain look of fear to keep her interest. That is definitely not a problem.

"It has all kinds of places you can tie me down on. If I get scared you will let me up, right?"

"Of course I will, dear boy," she purrs. Okay, I may be an idiot but even I know she's lying. I fight to hold back the tears. Instead I back around to the side of the desk.

"Show me what this desk can do?" she continues.

I crawl backwards over the desk. Their plan starts coming apart when she grabs my legs and pulls me back. I fight the urge to kick out and flee to the bathroom. I whimper instead. I don't like the look that crosses her face when I do that, not at all.

"Show me what you have, dear boy," she tells me in this deep sultry voice.

I keep crawling back so fast that I lose track of where I am and almost fall off far side. She is staring hungrily at me, but not following. I don't know why I say what I say next.

"I want you to go ... now!" It is the truth. I'm at the end of my fear factor.

"You don't tell me what to do anymore, Joshua. You will do what I tell you to do," she growls huskily. She climbs up onto the desk and crawls cat-like towards me.

I turn so that my legs are beneath me but I'm still facing her.

"Don't you dare run away," she commands.

"I promise you I won't," I squeak. I can't believe that this actually might work. Outside of this whole thing hinging on me, this really sounds like a good plan. Peggy tells me that I can do it.

"Let me show you something," I tell Sylvia. I reach out and touch her hand. She gives me a sinister smile but keeps eye contact.

"You will be punished for touching me without permission."

"Oh, I'm all for punishment," I quip as I pop the latch and the first panel and it turns over. I push Sylvia's wrist into the restraint which clicks shut.

"What are you ..." she starts to say as I push her other hand into the other wrist restraint that has magically appeared.

"You little bastard," she howls. I hop off the table and run beside her. She follows me with her head as she strains against the cuffs. I get the first ankle restraint up and successfully struggle to push her ankle in before she understands her true predicament.

"Let me go NOW!" she bellows in the most authoritative tone I've ever encountered. It almost stops me -- almost. I wrestle her last ankle in with a great deal of fighting, but I do get it done. Now Sylvia is trapped on all fours on top of my new desk.

"I'll break you for this," she seethes.

"I imagine that this is your game plan," I gulp as I move to the bathroom and open the door. Peggy, Cecilia, Walter, and Keisha walk in, each with one hand behind their back. Peggy moves quickly to my side and kisses me on the neck. I'm too exhausted to lean down for anything more.

Cecilia, Keisha, and Walter are all decked out in what Peggy calls bondage gear. They have a variety of toys and I don't mean Tonka trucks. Sylvia's look goes from unmitigated hate to hate mixed with fear.

"Walter, release me at once!" Sylvia commands. Walter flinches but Keisha squeezes his arm and he stiffens.

"You are about to get what you deserve ... Sylvia," he snarls.

"Don't you dare you my name," she snaps. "You don't have my permission."

"Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia," chants Cecilia gaining strength with each recitation.

"You will all pay for this," Sylvia threatens.

"Not very likely," Peggy informs her. "You are ours for the weekend, and believe me there is a lot we can do to you in three days."

"My husband ..." Sylvia starts to say.

"Is on his way here now with a new set of clothes and toiletries. He's happy to be rid of you. He'll be even happier when you sign those divorce papers giving him the house and spousal support," Peggy continues.

"He wouldn't dare," she says to us, but even I have a hard time believing her.

"Sylvia, when he saw the number of people arrayed against you, he gladly signed on," Keisha gloats.

"Housekeeping?" Sylvia threatens hopefully.

"Charles agreed to do my whole section early today so he could get on with his weekend. Everyone was glad to help out. No one is coming in before eight o'clock Monday," Peggy grins.

"I'll be missed," Sylvia keeps trying.

"By who?" Walter says. "Who likes you enough to do anything but thank their lucky stars that you aren't around? No one."

"You can't do this to me," she moans.

"We can and will," Walter beams, "all weekend long, and do you know where we'll start?" Sylvia gulps. Cecilia, Walter, and Keisha all produce long feathers from behind their backs.

"Wait," Sylvia wails, "you can't do this to me! You know how ticklish I am."

"Yes," the three grin, "we know."

Peggy and I retreat the chairs closest to the door.

"How did you get the table here so fast?" I ask.

"I merely shopped around until I found where Sylvia got her custom gear and they had what we needed."

"Oh," I respond. What I meant was did they use one of those package delivery vans or a semi, but I don't want to ask Peggy that again. I like big trucks. They are fun to ride in.

"Peggy where is my old desk?"

"Don't worry Sport," Peggy rubs my arm, "it is in one of our warehouses and they are scheduled to move it back in at nine o'clock Monday morning, so you can show up late if you like."

"Will you be coming in late?" I inquire.

"No, I'll be in at the normal time."

"Can I sit at your desk until they finish in my office?" I ask. Peggy laughs softly.

"Yes, but you can't play with the phone this time," she warns me. I'm okay with that. I still have the computer. I can update my Face Book page and Tweet some college buds.

(Later that evening)

"I'll ... make ... you all ... pay," Sylvia pants through her tears. Her voice is hoarse from laughter. She really is terribly ticklish. Even I took a turn rubbing a feather over her engorged nipples. Peggy is great. She keeps going to the bathroom and getting Sylvia water to sip and a towel to dry off the sweat of her body.

Walter has bagged up the clothes they cut off her body, which was as shame to do with her bra. It was a rich shade of pink and clearly well designed. I can't imagine it is easy to get one in her size.

"Help me get her down to this side of the table," Walter requests. I unfasten Sylvia from the desk panel, watching out for any reaction. Sylvia is too exhausted to put up more than token resistance. When we pull her down until she is bent over the desk, we affix her to a second set of bonds.

"Here you go Sylvia. We are going to grab some dinner and then we'll get back to you," Cecilia tells her. When those three retreat to the sofa to eat some Greek that Mr. Winton brought for us, I hear Sylvia whisper to me,

"Why are you doing this to me? The others I understand, but why you? I've never been bad to you."

"You made people unhappy Sylvia," I reply while I find my hand stroking her ass. It is nice and meaty, just the way it looked through her skirt. She flinches slightly until she realizes I'm not hurting her.

"Let me go and I'll never do this again I promise you," Sylvia pleads softly.

I'm not the smartest guy in the World, but apparently Peggy is.

"They told me you would say this to me," I tell her. I keep stroking her large butt cheek. She sobs into the table. I lean over her until our faces nearly touch. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"My ... my back itches where my bra was ..." she whispers. I start scratching and massaging her upper back.

"Joshua, are you okay?" Peggy startles me as I didn't know she'd moved up to my side.

"Sylvia's back itched," I respond, "so I figured I'd make her feel better."

"Joshua we are here to make her very uncomfortable. She's not here to enjoy things," Peggy points out to me.

"When you guys finish eating I'll stop," I tell her. Peggy pats me on the shoulder and goes back to her meal.

"Is there anything else I can do for you before they come back?" I ask. Sylvia hesitates.

"My butt itches," she mumbles.

"Which side?" Again Sylvia hesitates.

"Right down the middle," she mumbles even quieter. I shrug. I began scratching at the start of the crack where the spine hit the ass. For the first thirty seconds or so I get no response but when I get right above the anus her ass starts to wiggle.

"Right there?" I ask. She nods her head. I suddenly notice that everyone is looking at us though Sylvia can't see that. No one moves to stop me so I start scratching. Sylvia sighs.

"Lower," she moans. I have to think about that. The thing right beneath my current area of attention is her asshole. If I was smarter I might be recalling what nymphomaniac meant.

I use on hand to separate her butt cheeks and begin making small circles around her anal ring. That elicits another moan so I take it a step further and push in. She's tight and resisting but I persist. I stop and start pulling back out but her ass seems to grab hold of my finger and won't let go. Sylvia rocks back and I go in further.

"Yes," she whispers sensually. I feel my finger move past the ring and inside. I start wiggling it around and Sylvia reacts by rocks back and forth. I push in farther and she backs into me until I'm pressing my hand against her backside.