Yo Yo Chronicles Ch 09 Pleasure Island

Author's note: Each story in this series is complete and separate, with no plot or characters in common with the others. Only one thin thread connects them.

Many thanks to sweet_mahogany for first editing and improving this story.

Immense gratitude to BeautifulStorm, the hardest working editor on this site, who not only applied incredible expertise but also tremendous effort in following through to make sure the story turned out much better than I ever thought it could be.

"Your turn, Ms. Bardell."

"Please Mr. Arbuthnot, not this Friday. I'm taking my boyfriend for a surprise weekend in Scotland for his birthday. We have to leave right after work to drive to the castle in time to check in and be at the restaurant in time for dinner. Can't I do it next Friday?"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Bardell, but everyone in quality control knows that her job requires working an occasional Friday night. You don't have to do it often, but it's better not to make plans for that night."

Ms. Bardell tried for a few more minutes to get Arbuthnot to choose someone else that week though she knew it was in vain. Finally, she slammed down her phone, then picked it up to make calls to the hotel and restaurant to rearrange the weekend schedule and to her boyfriend to tell him his birthday surprise had to be postponed to Saturday morning.

While she was doing this, she happened to look in the direction of Arbuthnot's desk and saw him smiling at her. She returned his look with a glare of pure hatred before she realized this was only making him happier.

All sixteen women in quality control hated their boss with good reason. But they also put up with him for another good reason. What bothered them about the late Friday sessions was not the sex, but not knowing when they would be chosen. Arbuthnot got part of his jollies by surprising them at the last minute.

Sometimes, they were able to fake him out. The women would get together on Monday, and a couple who had no plans would volunteer for the Friday assignment. The rest of the week, everyone would try to make sure Arbuthnot overheard them talking about the show or the party the two women were "attending" Friday night. Sure enough, one of them was usually chosen.

Ms. Bardell had tried her best to keep her getaway a secret, but either Arbuthnot found out or she was just unlucky.

The late work on Friday nights took place in Arbuthnot's office. It was just off the floor in the center of the factory room. There were no outside windows, just two windows looking out to where the women worked. The blinds were always closed on Friday afternoon.

Inside the office, there was a small desk, a couple of chairs and a large couch that was uncomfortable to sit on, because it was so wide. That's where most of the action took place.

Arbuthnot was in his forties and had been married sixteen years. He and his wife had two children and what seemed to be a happy marriage. The only thing missing for him was kinky sex. His wife had humored his quirks before they were married, but she now refused to cooperate. She told him his desires disgusted and demeaned her.

Arbuthnot had unhappily put up with this for ten years. It was Ms. Quickly who showed him a way out of his frustration. She desperately needed an advance to purchase furniture for the new flat she was moving into with her fiancé. Arbuthnot told her it would set a bad precedent.

Ms. Quickly, who was twenty-five at the time, wouldn't give up. She was pretty and had big baps and a hot bum. She decided to use her assets in her quest and began wearing revealing clothes to work.

She found excuses to go into Arbuthnot's office. As she steered the conversation to the salary advance, she leaned over his desk to give him a good view of her braless breasts nearly falling out of the low-cut top she was wearing. Or she would lose a shoe and bend over to put it on, showing him most of her thong and what it was dividing under her short skirt.

One day, in frustration, she said, "Isn't there anything I can do to make you change your mind?"

She was bent over displaying her butt when she said it. She waited for an answer, but there was none. When she raised up, she turned around and looked at him. She saw a strange light in his eyes.

He didn't say anything as she smiled at him and flounced out of his office. His look told her she had found a way to get her furniture. But did she want to use it?

She stayed away from his office for a week while she thought it over. The next time she went in, she didn't waste time beating around the bush.

"Mr. Arbuthnot, there's a big furniture sale this weekend that I want to take advantage of. An advance in my check this Friday would really help.

"I noticed a big new batch came in this morning. I know you sometimes work late to meet the deadline since you're not in the union. If you'd like, I'd be willing to help you Friday night, and I wouldn't put in for overtime."

She looked him in the eye, turned her head to look at his couch and turned to him again.

"It's funny you mention that, Ms. Quickly," he said. "I was also thinking about Friday nights."

She was startled. Nights? Plural? All she had in mind was one quick tussle.

"What were you thinking?" she asked.

"I've printed it out for you to look over. Let's meet tomorrow morning to discuss it."

He handed her a sheet of paper.

She looked at it and saw it was a list with a check box next to each item. She gasped. It was a list of sexual demands. The mildest of them was "Suck me off and swallow my come."

The blood drained from her face as she read the ugly and demeaning variations of vaginal, anal and oral sex. She almost gagged, but kept herself under control as she quickly folded the piece of paper as small as she could and hid it in the palm of her hand.

When she looked up, he was smiling at her discomfort. The bastard! He didn't expect her to agree to his demands. He was getting off on watching her reaction. She tried to sound calm as she thanked him, but she couldn't keep her voice from cracking. She got up and quickly left his office.

That night, she told her fiancé that she had to go out to do some shopping, but she went to a nearby coffee house, ordered a caramel macchiato and sat in a corner looking at the list and thinking. She couldn't make up her mind, but she must have decided in her sleep, because the next morning, the moment she opened her eyes, she knew what she would do.

When she walked into Arbuthnot's office later, she wasn't wearing anything revealing. She closed the door behind her and sat down in a chair facing him. Her boss saw a look of confidence and defiance on her face he had never seen before.

"I've looked over the list of what needs to be done," she said. "It's a lot of work, so I know you'll see to it that I get a large bonus, as well as full overtime for all the extra hours I work, plus the advance this week. How many Fridays do you think it will take?"

He obviously wasn't expecting that answer, because he looked startled and had to think a moment.

"I expect we can finish everything in four Fridays," he finally said, "and I think I can give you a bonus out of petty cash since you're willing to work that much overtime."

He was leering at her.

She tried to hide her disgust and focus on the fact that he was giving her everything she had demanded.

"Then it's settled. I'll plan to stay a few hours late for the next few weeks. Thanks so much for your consideration, Mr. Arbuthnot."

The next four Friday nights were hell for her, even after she left his office. Her mind was reeling, and her thoughts kept her from falling asleep, even though she was exhausted.

Was she a prostitute? Could she make more money on the open market providing such demeaning services? What would her fiancé think if he ever find out? Were filthy Arbuthnot's perversions worth the lousy furniture?

Her fiancé noticed something was bothering her, but she told him she was exhausted from working overtime.

She found out Arbuthnot was a grateful degenerate. He kept his end of the bargain and seemed to appreciate everything she did. He never talked down to her. If fact, he hardly talked at all. He energetically humiliated her in silence and said "Thank you" when it was over.

On the fourth Friday, after she checked off the last item on the list and they were both getting dressed, he did speak up.

"Ms. Quickly, I can't tell you how helpful you've been. You've already seen how much I value your help by the size of the bonus you got today. I watched you open the pay envelope and enjoyed seeing you hold onto your desk in surprise.

"If there's anything I can do for you in the future, don't hesitate to ask. I truly appreciate someone who's willing to go the extra mile like you."

She looked at him. His face looked full of hope.

"Thank you, Mr. Arbuthnot. I've managed to take care of what I need. My fiancé and I are going to be very busy for the rest of the year, so I don't think I'll be available for more overtime."

His expression changed to one of disappointment, but he didn't say another word. For a moment, she thought to herself that she could probably take him for a lot more if she agreed to continue, but she put the thought out of her mind.

************

A couple of weeks later, Ms. Gayley came up to her in the break room when they were alone and whispered into her ear.

"What were you doing in Mr. Arbuthnot's office on Friday night a few weeks ago?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh yes you do. I came back to get something I had forgotten at my desk and saw you walk in, and then the blinds went down. I waited about twenty minutes, and you were still in there. The next Friday, you did the same thing. I've been watching every week since, and you never did it again. I'm dying of curiosity."

Ms. Quickly looked around her to see if anyone had heard and pondered her reply.

"Don't say anything now," Ms. Gayley said. "But let's have dinner tomorrow night."

At dinner, Ms. Quickly tried to hold back, but Ms. Gayley knew how to get people to spill the beans. Ms. Gayley pretended to be shocked, but Ms. Quickly could tell that she was titillated by her exploits. Ms. Gayley asked a lot of questions about the financial arrangements.

"You could get a lot of money out of our company if you wanted to," Ms. Gayley said when they were sipping coffee after dinner.

"I thought of that," Ms. Quickly said. "And I wouldn't care all that much about what happened to the creep. Maybe I value my reputation more than the money. And I don't how my fiancé would take it."

"I see what you mean," said Ms. Gayley. "After all, even though he violated company regulations, the two of you did make a deal, and you both got what you wanted. I wonder if I could do what you did if the money was right."

"You mean, hire out as a whore?" asked Ms. Quickly.

"Of course not. I mean with Mr. Arbuthnot. You're sure he wanted to continue your arrangement?"

"Yes, I'm certain the sick fuck e would have come up with another proposition if I had been open to it."

Soon after that dinner, every one of Ms. Quickly's fifteen co-workers knew all the details. Ms. Quickly was aware of the glances they gave her, but none of them brought up the subject until weeks later, when Ms. Gayley found Ms. Quickly alone in the break room again and whispered into her ear.

"We're all having dinner tonight at my house, and you need to be there," she said.

Ms. Quickly didn't say anything and went back to her work station. She called her fiancé and said she was getting together with some co-workers and would be home late.

Driving over to Ms. Gayley's house, she wondered what was going to happen. Would they call her a slut and disparage her? Would they push to have her sue the company? Was she going to have to put on a show for them by repeating all the sordid details again?

They were all in Ms. Gayley's living room passing around sandwiches when she arrived.

"I'm so glad you're here," Ms. Gayley said. "Now we can get started."

Ms. Quickly saw that she wasn't just being polite. She was beaming at her.

Ms. Gayley stood up in the middle of the room and said, "Ladies, let me tell this my way without interruptions, and then you can each have a turn to speak if you want to."

She turned to Ms. Quickly, who was biting into her sandwich, and addressed her.

"Ms. Quickly," she said. "You know what a gossip I am. We've been talking a lot about you and Mr. Arbuthnot. The other day the whole thing took a strange turn.

"I won't waste time with who said what to whom, but here's the bottom line: While all of us are disgusted with what you did, each of us is interested in doing the same thing, if it's financially worthwhile.

"We'd do it the same way we do our union contract negotiations. We'll give him an initial offer, and if he doesn't accept it, we'll listen to his counteroffer. I think both sides will be motivated to reach an agreement without any acrimony.

"We want you to be our bargaining agent and deal with him on our behalf. You did pretty well for yourself with him, so we're confident that you can get us the best deal. What do you say?"

Ms. Quickly sat in stunned silence. She would have never guessed this was the reason for her invitation.

After a minute, Ms. Gayley broke the silence.

"Ladies, do any of you have something to add to what I said?"

Nobody spoke up, and Ms. Gayley turned to Ms. Quickly again.

"Can you think of any problems with our idea?"

"I'm flabbergasted," said Ms. Quickly. "Are all of you really into this kind of thing? Do you realize how it's going to mess with your mind? I had a hard time looking at myself in the mirror."

"We've talked a lot about that," Ms. Gayley said. "Not one of us is looking forward to the filth and humiliation. Most of us got queasy just talking about it. One of us had to run to the bathroom and throw up while we were going through his list.

"What makes us think we can handle it is that with sixteen of us, it works out to only three Fridays a year for each of us, when you take away Mr. Arbuthnot's four weeks of vacation. Even if you decide not to join us, each of us will have to do it only four times a year. That would be part of the deal."

"Well, you've thought of everything," Ms. Quickly said. "I don't know if I'm going to join you. It depends on what Mr. Arbuthnot says when I talk to him. Oops! I guess that means I have joined you."

It took five bargaining sessions over the course of two weeks to reach an agreement. Anyone wandering into the department during those weeks might have wondered what was going on. The women were all at their stations working, but they were all dressed in clothes that left little to the imagination. Each one would sneak an occasional peek into Arbuthnot's office when Ms. Quickly was negotiating.

Sometimes Arbuthnot would look up and see one of the women looking at him, and he would frown. But each woman returned his frown by putting on as leering, lascivious and seductive a smile as she could manage. They had practiced together in the ladies lounge.

Arbuthnot explained that the productivity would have to increase or there would be trouble from above. Eventually, he figured out a combination of bonuses and benefits that fit into his budget. It meant sharing his annual bonus, something he had never done, although he knew some other department managers did. He wondered if they also received special perks.

Then it began. Every Friday afternoon, it was "Your turn, Ms. Gayley," or "Your turn, Ms. Bardell," or "Your turn, Mrs. Randolph." They tried to get him on a schedule, but he relished the spontaneity. The agreement was that as long as it wasn't more than three times a year, he could choose whomever wanted.

They tried to prepare for their ordeals psychologically and follow his orders mechanically, but they usually failed. It seemed that the more humiliated they felt, the more he enjoyed himself. So they hated him, even though it was their idea and they liked the financial benefits.

When someone moved on to another job or retired, the entire group participated in the job interview process. For him, they were looking for someone cute, young and slim, with big boobs and a hard, round bum. For them, they were looking for a woman who wanted money enough to occasionally demean herself for it.

Everyone was careful, and things seemed to be working smoothly.

******************

"Your turn, Ms. Siegler."

"All right, I'll be there."

Ms. Siegler's cheery response further dampened Arbuthnot's already sour mood. Her Friday assignment hadn't seemed to bother her a bit. All his employees had been in unusually high spirits all week.

He enjoyed the compliments he got from upper management for the camaraderie and friendly workplace atmosphere in his department. But this laughing and giggling was way beyond the norm.

Several times he heard some of the women whispering about an exciting weekend they had planned together. They didn't say where, but it was someplace where they had bullfights.

The reason Arbuthnot was in a bad mood was because he was leaving Saturday morning for a two-day trip with his wife to Pleasure Island Resort. The resort was on the island of Ferro, which was off the coast of Spain and mostly a nature preserve.

When he asked his wife why she chose Ferro, he wasn't pleased with her answer. The resort was one of those retreats for married couples that guaranteed it would make their relationships better.

"We don't need that," he told his wife.

"Are you saying we have a perfect marriage that can't be improved?" was her answer. She told him she knew a couple of women who said their alley cat husbands turned into pussycats after they went to Pleasure Island.

"Is that what you want, a pussycat?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said, with a smile and twinkle in her eye. "Are you an alley cat?"

He finally gave in. When he looked up Pleasure Island on the Internet, all he got was "Pinocchio." He asked his wife about it, and she told him the resort and program went to a lot of trouble to maintain privacy and stay off the radar. You could only get in by referral. He stopped asking questions and resigned himself to a miserable weekend.

********

He was shocked to see his entire department sitting by the departure gate for the charter flight Saturday. They waved at him and his wife. So they were going the same place as he was going.

"Did you know about this?" he asked his wife, but she only smiled at him.

He looked around and saw that except for his employees, the others at the gate were all couples.

"Where are their spouses or partners?" he asked his wife, nodding at his employees. Again, she didn't answer.

It was obvious that his wife and employees had planned this trip together, but why? He felt uneasy.

He and his wife sat in business class, and the employees were in coach, so he didn't see the women again until they collected their luggage. A few of them came over to him, and he could tell that they had been drinking on the plane.

One of them said, "I hope we see you at the bullfights, Mr. Arbuthnot," and then all of them began giggling.

The bus ride to the resort hotel took longer than the plane trip, and the sun was low when they arrived. He and his wife were in their room only a few minutes when his wife said, "Time to go."

"Time to go where?"

"The first session starts in fifteen minutes. Dinner is included."

They went to a large meeting room and sat down at long tables. At each seat, there was a pad of paper and pencil. It looked like one of his work retreats. Waitresses took their orders and brought dinner. It was good, and his mood improved slightly.

A man dressed in expensive resort clothes appeared on the stage, went to the microphone at the lectern and greeted them.