Workplace Discipline
by Owen

Notice: This story is entirely fictional, any resemblance to real individuals or event is a coincidence. In addition, this artistic work discusses obscene material involving eproctophilia and otherwise ‘kinky’ scenarios. Furthermore, to those wishing to reproduce or otherwise distribute and exhibit by traditional or electronic means this work, please acknowledge that the author of this work is permissive of any use of this material, so long as not used to amass a profit. Such means of amassing a profit from the exhibition or distribution of this intellectual property includes but is not limited to selling this work for any object or asset of financial value, miscellaneous advertisements surrounding the display area of this work, and requiring payment for viewing this work on an interactive computer service.

Introduction: My name is James and I’ve for over a year now I’ve had a rather pervy obsession with my supervisor, Avery. Little did I know until recently just how unwelcome my activities were.

It was a cold day as I emerged from my less than humble abode and slithered through the maze of people on my way to work. For those interested, my job has been for the last three years a disappointing and stressful job as number-cruncher for a large regional corporation. Although irrelevant, this job was acquired through a now distant female friend named Ellie who casually mentioned it during a college graduation party.

“Damn it!”, I bitterly groused to myself as I stumbled into work nearly a whopping hour late. My mind was now flooded with a general understanding that, “Avery is so going crucify your position in the company for this.” This was my third time coming in late this week and as the saying goes, “Three strikes, you’re out, at the old ball game.” Surprising as it seemed in the moment, Avery had yet to demean me for my tardiness. However, this was not to be.

At the end of my shift (night shift) around closing time just as I manage to adorn my coat, Avery blocks my path. She informs me rather ominously that she, “Has something she’d like to address with me in private.” I could feel my body tense up as I felt this was the end, I had ‘dun goofed’ so to speak. I followed her down the now gloomy and desolate corridor of the building, down the winding stairs past the decommissioned vending machine, and into the elevator to the ground floor accounting complex.

I was at this point beginning to be intrigued as to why we weren’t going to her executive office and instead towards her intended destination of what I guessed would be the employee break room, although I couldn’t understand why. For those not in the know, the employee break room is a shabby oasis of blindness in an otherwise highly surveilled corporate prison. The only reason as to why is because there used to be a worker’s union, albeit over a decade ago, in this unit that was protected from harassment (such as video surveillance) by law.

My intuition was panning out to be correct as she wiggled akwardly into the break room, leaving just enough room for me and a whispered snide comment to enter in after her. “In here James, in here.”, she commanded as she began unlocking the maintenance closet, which none of us lower level filth had entered. Yet, nonetheless most knew it was really filled with only a chair, mini-fridge, and shelving rack. It contained few actual cleaning supplies. With wicked speed, she locked the door after she tripped with me a broom when I entered.

On the ground now, dazed and confused, I asked her what she wanted to talk to me about. Her response was cryptic, “Oh you know…”, but I didn’t know. What was she talking about? I was soon to find out. “James, you know what I’m talking about...Don’t you?!”, she blurted with an invisible, yet ever-present anger and disgust. “About how you look at me at work, you’re eyes are always down here (turning around and pointing to her butt) or up here (turning back around and this time pointing to her tightly packaged, yet large breasts). They’re never where they are supposed to be...And please do not think I don’t fucking notice your dirty antics, you disgusting pervert.” She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts as I froze up with fear. Eye candy isn’t supposed to have a bitter after-taste or burn you.

She resumed her rant and raving with a no longer invisible anger. “You know what? I actually tried to engage with you and be something more than an object for you to enjoy. I even went to the gym with you, which now in hindsight provided you with a large number of ‘sight-seeing’ opportunities for your filthy mind.” Kicking me the genitals, she proceeded to ask, “Did it not?” I did little more than whimper in pain.

“Well you know what?”, she said rhetorically, “It stinks that I’m objectified. It stinks that you disrespect me, even when your eyes aren’t looking where they aren’t supposed to be. You’re lazy, late, and a fucking loser. However, I feel that I have found the perfect simulation for how I am treated by you on a daily basis.”, and this time concluded her statement by giggling. “Now come on. Get your face in my booty and just relax, breathe.” *BBBLLRPT!!*

Oh my god did that stink! It vaporized any fresh air I had in my nose like an atom bomb. My body began flailing around and she laughed mocking me with a baby voice, “Awww. Poor little boy doesn’t like my toots? Good thing it’s not up to him if he wants to smell them or not.” The smell was the rich and hearty smell of eggs and cheese that unfortunately needed no introduction. Eventually after maybe 5 minutes she got bored just face farting on me and stood up.

“Anyway I know from just looking at your sad face that you’re bored and guess what? So am I. It’s time we play a new game, it’s called ‘Guess What I Ate’. You put your mouth over my booty and suck the toots out and after I’m satisfied that you’ve fully enjoyed the rich vibrant taste, I’ll ask you to guess what ‘ingredients’ were used.”, she explained. She began to pull down her black leggings that just barely complied with the company dress code, revealing a pair of silky frilled white panties that reeked of sweat. I felt for some reason a need to compliment her pretty panties and she ended up thanking me for the compliment, “Thanks, bet that means you’re gonna love smelling my toots emanate out.” She then decided to give me an airy ‘thank you kiss” and pulled her panties down to expose her bare sun-licked tan ass.

I suctioned my mouth around her asshole because I decided that I’d rather do it than her.*PLLLLRRRRRBT!!! * “Aww! I’ve been holding that in all day.”, she moaned in relief. For me the smell was anything but relieving. It had a dense and bold flavor that screamed some sort of meat. “So what’s your guess? What did I eat? Also, although I don’t really care, how did it taste?”, she quizzed. I replied with what I thought was the correct answer, “ Some sort of meat and it tasted nasty.” Her response was a cold-hearted mixed bag, “Ooo. Nice try but not quite. Also double wammy. Maybe you’d guess right if you paid more attention to what I ate and not my booty.”, she mused seductively. The reward for a ‘double wammy’ I found was a kick in the genitals by her steel toe shoes. I had no option but to scream in pain, yet it was useless as she got only more angry and decided to bitch-slap me in the cheek. Once she was done, she asked if I was, “Ready for a second chance.” I at this point mumbled a yes, causing her to laugh rather hysterically in the sadistic pleasure of finally breaking my spirit. * BBRRRRBBBBBBBTTTTTT!!! PSSSSSTTTT!!! *

This had to be the longest fart I’ve ever heard, smelled, and tasted. It rushed up more nose faster than a line of booger sugar and burned hotter than a ghost pepper. I practically began drowning in a sea of tears and mucus running down my face. However, this was interrupted by a roaring moan that almost shook my eardrums loose. “AWWWWWWWWWWWWWW FUCK THAT FELT SO DAMN GOOD!! AH, AH, THAT FELT GOOD! AW FUCK!”, bellowed Avery. At this point I saw her putting her hand inside her pants, fingering herself so hard that my face vibrated deep down in her ass. As I looked up I could see the side of her face turn red as a beet. Ripe with embarrassment she apologized, “OH MY GOD, I’M SO SORRY! That just felt so damn good, I’m sure you can understand.” I decided to just nod my head as to not risk retaliation. For some reason she decided I had enough and cut my lungs off their only source of air for what I later found was an hour.

In the end I kept my job and still arrive late, yet I won’t be punished so long as I keep our little now weekly ‘taste-testing’ game a secret.