Surrendering Sarah - Chapter 10
Chapter 10
It was the kind of Sunday that Sarah and her husband would have enjoyed together not long ago. Now she lay on the large quilt beside Stacey, propped up on her elbows, watching the parade of joggers on this warm fall afternoon. Just beyond, the lake sparkled in the mid- day sun. An endless procession of lean, tan bodies circled the small lake, crowding the narrow path that that ran its circumference, disappearing into the wooded park at the far end, only to reappear in the distance across the restless water.
A few blades of long, fine grass yielding to a short gust of fall air teased her ankle near the edge of the quilt. Startled, she brushed at it, as if to send a fly or some similar pest on its way. Now distracted from her daydreams, she turned her attention to Stacey, lying on her stomach next to her. The sky-blue bikini hid little of her slim figure, glowing alabaster-white in the afternoon sun. Turning toward her, she gently touched Stacey's cheek with the back of her hand, then ran it down her neck to her shoulder where her open palm came to rest. It was now more habit than obedience. Stacey had required it of her weeks ago; the brief but intimate gesture was to precede each and every conversation. Whenever they spoke, Sarah kept in touch with Stacey's body until they were done.
Stacey's pixie face was turned toward her. She stirred under Sarah's touch, a wide, warm smile growing beneath closed eyes.
"Mmmm. Nice."
She reached out, eyes still shut, easily finding Sarah's bare leg. Still purring as though half-asleep, she explored the warmth of Sarah's inner thigh. Sarah shuddered, glancing along the path a few yards from them as Stacey's fingers lifted the thin nylon and slid inside the tiny white jogging shorts. Her hand tightened on Stacey's shoulder as she felt a finger enter her, then trace slow circles through the juices pooling between her legs.
Stacey's eyes were open now, peering up at her with teasing curiosity.
"You're sooo wet, Barbie. Did I catch you filling that empty little head with cock fantasies again?"
As usual, Sarah was distracted by the passing joggers. Half-listening to Stacey, her eyes were locked on an approaching boy, about sixteen she guessed, with an enormous erection that bobbed and wobbled as he trotted past them. He looked down at them and smiled, then winked. Sarah was sure she was his target. She waved back, wiggling her fingers and flashing her best Barbie smile.
Flushed, Sarah looked away at the boy departing.
"I think I'll go for a run, Stace. OK?"
"Behave yourself, Barbie. No hanky-panky, and don't be too long - I'm starting to burn."
Stacey watched her prance along the water, now getting stares from everyone she passed. She had insisted that Sarah slit each leg of her tiny shorts to the waistband. In the bright sunlight her translucent tube-top revealed the twin dark circles of her stiffened nipples. Stacey found her pink visor in the clearance section of a local toy store; it bore a cartoon likeness of the ever-popular doll's pouting face just above the Barbie logo, glittering in flowery script that could well have been the signature of Barbie herself, assuming Barbie could write.
Stacey closed her eyes, again smiling with satisfaction. The past weeks had been particularly rewarding. Sarah had worked her way through all the men at the office except for Burgess himself. Each had taken his turn ********* her on daily lunch breaks, drooling at the chance to succeed where the others had failed. Those able to sustain the most impressive erections were treated to a few heart-pounding moments when Sarah would ****** her shaved cunt to them, teasing them with the promise of burying their "big, thick cocks" in her hungry hole. One by one, they all failed. Sarah rejected them because Stacey demanded it. Barbie rejected them because even the biggest cocks weren't big enough.
It wasn't long before all of them despised her. Prolonged frustration followed by wounded egos, all in full view of their peers and subordinates, made her repeated rejections especially humiliating.
When they no longer spoke to Sarah, they began to take out their anger on the nearest female. Secretaries, co-workers, clients - none of the women escaped the wrath of Barbie's handiwork.
And of course, the women hated her as well. They had a headstart. Their aversion to Sarah began the first day Barbie entered the office.
Watching the men fawn over her like school-boys in heat didn't help, and now further abuse from those same vengeful "bags of testosterone" had the women fuming. Soon they turned on each other. Petty disagreements escalated to heated shouting matches followed by periods of sulking while each plotted her own special revenge. The office was in turmoil. Stacey stood in the midst of it, feigning a shared dismay at Sarah's disgraceful conduct, savoring each minute of the chaos she had so successfully orchestrated.
Even Stu had abandoned her. On their second outing, no longer able to resist the magnificent arch of meat straining at the front of his slacks, she placed a hand in his lap as he drove. His cock seemed to go on forever. It throbbed in her hand as she milked the entire length of it, searching for the tip, guessing its length and girth. God, it was sooo entirely huge! She had to have it. Sarah was dripping wet. But he had stopped her when she went for his zipper, desperate to free her long awaited trophy. "P-p-please d-d-don't, Sarah," he had managed with a worried glance. "I'm m-m-married - m-m-y wife - I just c-c-can't." Sarah was stunned. Stacey made things worse when Sarah confided in her later that day.
"I don't understand, Stacey. Why didn't he want me? Any of the others would have jumped at the chance, married or not."
"Barbie, you poor stupid little thing. Don't you get it? What do I have to do to make you understand? Repeat after me, 'Gee, I guess I'm too dumb to get it.' Then, ask me to explain it to you.
"Gee, Stacey, ...uhmm, I guess I'm ...like, so dumb," Sarah stammered, "I mean, too dumb. Could you ... you know, tell me why Stu didn't let me suck his big cock?"
"I'll say this really slow so that even you can understand. Guys with really big cocks only want to fuck the best Barbies, the drop-dead gorgeous ones."
Pulling her in front of the mirrored wall next to her desk, Stacey continued to explain while Sarah looked hesitantly at her reflection.
"Big-cocked guys only fuck Barbies with massive, hard tits and nipples. They only put their cocks inside Barbies with tiny waists and long, thin Barbie thighs with that little space between them that screams 'Fuck me till I cum!' Just look at yourself. You're just not a Big- Cock-Barbie. You're more Hank's type."
Sarah stared into the mirror at what she had become. The hot pink leotard fit her like a glove from neck to ankles. She pulled her shoulders back, forcing the short, white bolero jacket open as her breasts thrust forward against it. Even wearing the heavy, white, platform boots, she saw no daylight between her slim thighs. And she had always wished that her waist was a little longer, a bit more slender.
So she dieted - and exercised - half-heartedly at first, then religiously. Stacey was ecstatic each time Sarah asked to go to the gym, or grunted her way through another exercise set on the apartment floor. When she picked at a salad each night instead of sharing Stacey's deluxe pizza or Chinese take-out, Stacey made a big fuss. Sarah lingered over the details of how she might look in the full- length mirror after one more day of salads and aerobics. She spent hours imagining each new line and curve, each subtle improvement that may lead her to a cock worthy of her attention. 'Pretty soon, those guys with really big cocks will want me. I'll be so hot that the biggest cocks will fight over me.' For Sarah, believing that had not only become a religion for her, it was salvation.
But Stacey's favorite pastime was watching Sarah before bed as she posed in front of the mirror. Naked, on tiptoe, she cupped her breasts with both hands, trying unsuccessfully to make them appear larger and harder than the night before. Then, still stretching, up on the balls of her feet, heels together, she would carefully place a hand between her legs, checking for a space wide enough to allow a single, narrow finger to bridge the widening gap. Best of all was watching Sarah's disappointment return, the increasing dissatisfaction with her body, her developing fantasies of the body she might have that would be irresistible, that definitely would command every cock in sight.
Still, even after her best efforts, Sarah remained an outcast at work. Now her only lunchtime companions were the young construction workers outside her office window. Following up on her desk-top dancing sessions, Sarah would mince and wiggle across the street. She never grew tired of sampling them, eagerly climbing aboard one rusty pick-up truck after another, obsessed with finding a new cock bigger than the last. None of them objected to her hand in his lap, or to her skillful attempts in her quest to bring his cock to its fullest glory. She rewarded those with the biggest cocks by masturbating them as they drove. She was fascinated with the way a cock seemed to surge a bit in size just before eruption. Without realizing it, Sarah had come to love the moment a big, fat cock spewed its thick contents at her. Not sure whether a hand-job counted as the sex Stacey had forbidden, never touching her own steaming cunt, Sarah took no chances, consuming the evidence of her research with enthusiastic licks and slurps.
Today, for the first time, Stacey saw Sarah's obsession spill over into the weekend. In the past, a day away from the office chased Barbie back into the shadows. Even the slightest retreat allowed the familiar hint of regret and humiliation to show in Sarah's eyes, and Stacey would have to resort to an especially embarrassing punishment. Last Sunday she had Sarah loosen the string of her bikini top as she finished the last half of her final lap. Stacey had laughed hysterically as the top fluttered to the ground, Sarah's bare breasts bouncing, legs pumping madly while she fought to make it back to the safety of her towel. Sarah could feel the burning stares of the other runners, but Stacey was quick to remind her that only the men with the smallest dicks looked for more than a second or two. Retrieving her top was worse. Stacey had her go after it when the path was the most crowded. A few of the men stared, but she couldn't avoid the women's vicious insults of "stupid slut" and "blonde bimbo".
But today was a milestone. Sarah's eyes darted from crotch to crotch, sizing each thinly concealed prick, making mental notes of which was the biggest and thickest. She flirted with many of them, and was rewarded with a few unmistakable hard-ons that poked embarrassingly at the front of their jogging shorts.
Stacey watched with amusement as Sarah made the turn that headed her back to their blanket. The pink sneakers cycled up and down as the practiced prance carried her slowly on her way. Soon she collapsed next to Stacey, breathing hard, but smiling brightly. Stacey grinned back in wonder, her eyes drifting lower, away from Sarah's face. Beaming with pride and exhilaration, she decided not to even mention the thin string of semen that arced shimmering and thread-like over Sarah's right shoulder.
-*-
"Pleeeeease? Oh, please, please, please?"
Sarah held Stacey lightly by the shoulders, then moved both hands up to cup her face, stroking her neck along the way. Stacey stood a foot away, bracing herself against Sarah's whining. She despised the grating sound, even if it did come from a Barbie.
Word came on Monday morning that the firm's potential new client would arrive later in the week for final negotiations. Success would mean a promotion to partner for the employee able to demonstrate an image aggressive and creative enough to close the deal.
Sarah continued to beg and whine, hopeful that Stacey would let her dress for the occasion. She met the conservative Japanese executives on their last visit and had charmed them with her no-nonsense air and easy smile. She cringed at the thought of having to greet them dressed in flaming pink spandex. Was a navy business suit too much to ask, for just two days?
Suddenly, eyes glittering, Stacey gave in.
"Oh, alright, Barbie - if it means that much to you. But it won't matter. Clothes may make the man, but they won't give a Barbie Bimbo the sense to come in out of the rain."
"Oh, thank-you, thank-you, thank-you, Stace!"
Sarah took her in her arms, bouncing up and down on tiptoe, continuing to thank her like a small child allowed to stay up past her bedtime. Stacey rolled her eyes, now thankful she had closed the door to Sarah's office.
-*-
Sarah felt like her old self again. She strutted through the office, smug as ever in the sleek Liz Claiborne suit, now confident she could recover any ground lost over the past month and reclaim her career. The morning passed too quickly as she reviewed the lengthy contract, but by noon she was buoyed by increasing optimism. The image in her office mirror was a welcome one for a change. The suit fit as though it was made for her - the jacket square shouldered, narrowing to a long slim waist, the dark skirt flirting with a few inches of thigh above well-sculpted lines of knee and calf. But the picture wasn't perfect. Stacey had insisted on the six-inch heels, although she did allow a matching color. Her platinum hair lay flat and shining along her face, now curled under as it followed the line of her jaw. The jacket bulged at the front, her new breasts tight against the tailored silk blouse. Stacey was right. Barbie was still underneath somewhere, straining to get out. Her only hope was that the bit of Barbie that showed might appeal to the men, giving her an advantage.
"They'll see right through it. You know that, don't you?"
Sarah turned from her reflection, meeting Stacey's stare with an angry one of her own.
"You can dress the Barbie up in fancy clothes, but you can't disguise an empty head. Do you really think they'll listen to you for more than a few seconds? Every time you open your mouth, all they'll be thinking about is how fuckable you are. But I'll have to admit I agree with them. You're so cute, trying to dress like a respectable business woman..."
Stacey crossed the room and put both arms around her waist. She brought her face to within an inch of Sarah's, gazing deeply into her eyes, then looked down at the rigid mounds now crushed against her own modest breasts. Sarah eyed the open door warily, but knew better than to object to Stacey's advances at a time when she needed to stay on her good side. Her hand found Sarah's breast and palmed it, feeling the rising nipple through blouse and bra. Her voice was a raspy whisper.
"Mmmm. I could just slip this off you and suck on these for hours. Bet I could make you cum. Don't you think I could make you cum just by sucking on your tits?"
"Please, Stacey. Not today, not now."
"But why not, my little fucktoy? Don't you want to play with me? Don't you love me anymore? I could make you lose the blouse for your precious meeting - let you show the nice men more titty than you planned. This jacket wouldn't hide much."
Stacey plucked at the buttons. She opened one, then another, and finally a third, slowly parting the fabric to ****** the inner third of both firm spheres.
In the outer office two women stood and chatted directly in Sarah's line of sight. Both noticed her at nearly the same time, and sneered with disgust at Stacey's body, now pressed tightly against hers.
"I-I love you, Stace. But they're watching us! Please, any other day, Stacey, just not today? I'll make it up to you. OK?"
Exasperated, Stacey dropped her arms with an exaggerated sigh.
"Oh, alright Barbie. Go to your silly little meeting. But first, could you do me a really, really big favor?"
Stacey held the yellow square of paper at arm's length. The edge stuck to her outstretched finger, the list of finely written items barely legible from three feet away.
Sarah felt her world caving in about her. As hard as she tried, as desperately as she struggled for what little control Stacey had not yet seized, a tear began to grow at the corner of her eye.
"Pleeease. The meeting's in an hour! I'll never get back in time! You promised! You can't do this to me!"
"Come on, Barbie. It's just a few simple things from that gourmet shop we love so much. I wanted to fix you a nice dinner tonight. You're not going to be ungrateful, are you? You'll have plenty of time if you leave now. Be a good Barbie. Bye-bye!"
By 12:05 Sarah was making her way as fast as she could in the six-inch heels to the nearby construction site. She knew better than to ask any of the men in the office for a ride these days, and besides, they were all busy preparing for the meeting.
They didn't recognize her at first. Pink was her color. But that didn't stop them from staring slack-jawed at the slim young woman approaching them. She marched quickly across the makeshift ramps of wood as if she knew her way, calf muscles flexing beneath six inches of ******* ivory thigh. Then, when she came close enough to count the sparkling beads of sweat racing into waists of their jeans, pooling, she knew, in the spaces made between swollen cocks and straining zippers, she heard her name passed from one man to another.
There was little time to waste. She wiggled her tits, bounced up and down on her toes, and waved her best Barbie wave.
"Hey, guys! Like, can anybody give me a ride? Pleeease?"
A tap on the shoulder startled her. She turned awkwardly, almost falling off the plywood into the deeply rutted mud. Jared stood there grinning, hands on his hips, watching her as the plywood shifted beneath her heels. By now he was her favorite. For a week she sat beside him in his Jeep, smitten by his gray eyes, crooked smile, and perpetually hard, monstrous cock. He was mysteriously quiet from the start, deep she thought. He hadn't flinched the first time she stroked him through his jeans. Then, later, when she routinely freed the log of warm flesh from his pants, he would keep his eyes on the road and grin while she caressed the mushroom-shaped head with her fingertips. It was only after he sensed her pleading eyes on him that he came, covering her hands with a surging river, thick and white. Try as she might, she never seemed able to make him cum until he was ready, after he saw her beg.
Two younger boys hung back, a yard behind on either side. Bared to the tops of their faded cutoffs, they gawked and elbowed each other, peering from behind Jared's sturdy frame.
"Oh Jared, I'm sooo glad to see you! I'm really, really late and I need a ride downtown to that gourmet shop, you remember the one. Can you take me, now, pleeease?"
The two boys chuckled at her choice of words, and edged closer. Jared smiled his crooked smile and took her hand, helping Sarah off the plywood toward a parking lot at the back of the site. He held her hand firmly as they walked, even after they reached the fine gravel where the footing was better. She felt comfortable, protected, just as she had with her husband when they first met. She tried to remember when those feelings had left her, but it hadn't happened in an instant, or even a day or a week. She felt safe in the warmth of Jared's large, callused hand, and, clinging to those few seductive minutes, put her shoulder against his bare arm, never once lowering her eyes to his crotch.
The white van sat at the back of the lot, parked well away from the row of resting dumptrucks and dozers, their job now nearly done. Jared stopped next to the faded blue lettering on the side door.
"Mine's in the garage today. We'll have to take the van. Mind if the boys tag along?"
He unlatched the door, leaning hard against it, sliding it open with a sudden shove. Before she could answer, she was pushed inside followed by Jared and the boys. The door slammed shut taking daylight with it. The van was filled with mover's quilts and plastic tarps, now more visible as her eyes grew accustomed to the dim interior. The sweltering heat robbed her of her breath as she struggled, now tangled in the heavy padding. She was finally on her knees. Then came the sudden burning over her scalp as strong hands grasped her hair, snapping her head backward with a vicious yank.
Jared crouched between her and the windshield. He was a dark silhouette now, without gray eyes or crooked smile. She felt his powerful hands at the sides of her face, then a rough thumb traveling over it, finally forcing it's way into her mouth. His friends held her from behind, one by the hair, the other wrapping her wrists tightly with a strip of cloth.
"What's the matter, Barbie? Not in a party mood? You probably thought I'd be satisfied to let you play with my cock for as long as you like, then wiggle your ass on over to the next guy when you get bored. I've seen your type before. The respectable business woman decides she needs a few jollies, so she goes slumming - thinks it's so cool to go after some real cock for a change instead of that needle-dicked preppie crowd she cuddles up to while she's on the clock. Only you don't fuck us, do you Barbie? You save the pussy for your lawyers and CEOs. What do you think about when they're humping away on that fine little body? The money? Does the money make you cum? Do you see green when you close your eyes and grit your teeth, waiting to slide out from under those pasty momma's boys after they whack off inside you? Well, bitch, do you?"
"Please, please, Jared. You're scaring me. It's not like that, not at all! I want to, I want to so much. You don't know how much I've wanted you. But I can't. I can't explain right now, but I just can't!"
"I think you can. I think it's time you lived out your little fantasy, Barbie. I think it's time you get what you've wanted all along."
His prick was even larger than she remembered, now just inches from her face. He pushed the slick tip against her lips. She welcomed the musky flavor, sealing her mouth firmly around the shaft as it edged forward. Now she wanted nothing more than to show him how hungry she was for him, to devour him with the skills learned from taking hundreds of cocks in her mouth. But her best efforts were useless. The boys held her tightly from behind while Jared clamped her head between his huge hands. She was helpless, unable to move or show her willingness to give in to him. He stabbed roughly at her open mouth, never stopping or allowing her to rest. She lashed at the head with her tongue, then worked it along the heavy ridge on the underside, drooling long strings of saliva down her chin, onto the silk blouse. All feeling drained from her hands as the tightly cinched cloth slowed the flow of blood at her wrists. Her knees burned as the rocking motion ground them into the floor of the van. And she was wet, wetter than she had ever been - dripping, sopping between her legs. If only she - someone - could touch her there, put a finger inside her, just enough to trigger her release. Then, with no warning, he came, filling her mouth and throat with jets of thick, white cum. In an instant, her own orgasm shook her like a jolt of current, holding her in a brief seizure, then racking her with loud moans of relief. Jared pumped his cock deeper into her, forcing the semen she couldn't swallow out of the corners of her mouth, down her chin, and onto the shoulders and front of her tailored suit.
For the next half-hour she gave in to them. Hands tied, limp and willing, she would have tolerated any perversion for a taste of the sex forbidden by Stacey for so long. The two boys took turns at her upturned ass as they bent her over a stack of padding. She heard the skirt rip as it bunched about her waist, then the sudden coolness as her panties were pulled over the tops of her thighs. It burned at first, but eventually even their brutality made her wet. She watched Jared as they sodomized her. He milked his now flaccid cock, still nearly as large as when it filled her mouth. Slowly, his erection returned, almost as if she had willed it back to its jutting, rigid state.
The boys finished quickly, each of them filling her bowels with a load of sticky spunk. It leaked from her slowly as they turned her onto her back, cooling as it settled in small puddles over the dark skirt. Jared appeared between her legs. Her gaze was fixed on his renewed erection as he hovered over her. It was so huge, so potent, so beautiful. The boys held her ankles, spreading her legs until she cried out in pain. Then, Jared was inside her. He filled her suddenly, in a single, swift thrust. She gasped, tilting her hips into him instinctively. She struggled to free her hands, still bound behind her back. She wanted to stroke his chest, run her hands along his strong arms, explore the rows sharp ridges that crossed his belly. She begged him to free her, promising him anything and everything if he would only allow her to show him how much she wanted him.
Instead, Jared's hand closed around her throat as the boys gripped her legs, spreading them painfully until her struggling ceased. Jared's grip tightened until she could no longer speak or moan. Yet, the pressure around her neck was strangely exciting. It made her small and helpless in his firm grasp - impaled on his raging prick, her very breath controlled by a single powerful hand. She was a mere receptacle, weak and willing, controlled by the lust-driven cravings of a savage animal.
Jared squeezed tighter. Breath became more difficult for her as his came faster and deeper. Splotches of black danced before her eyes and darkness approached from all sides. Everything she was was between her legs now, wet, throbbing, sucking, frantic for just the right touch that would bring boiling throes of relief to her fragile body. She could sense it a long way off, building like a tsunami, now closer, closer...
Suddenly, a maddening emptiness between her legs, then a dizzy rush as she was lifted by the back of the neck to face the huge head of the monster. It stung her eyes like hot rain, boiling out of his cock, running over her like molten lava, finally slowing to rest in the creases and valleys of her new suit. He laughed as he sprayed his cum over her, and she burned as her cunt twitched and flowed, searching for relief that was not to come.
They tossed her onto the gravel beside the van, never once looking back as they returned to work. Sarah tried to stand. Small, jagged stones bit into her knees when she fell. On the third try she was able to walk. She staggered back across the gravel lot and the maze of planks leading to her meeting, stopping only long enough to focus on her watch through the broken crystal. She had ten minutes.
It was the kind of Sunday that Sarah and her husband would have enjoyed together not long ago. Now she lay on the large quilt beside Stacey, propped up on her elbows, watching the parade of joggers on this warm fall afternoon. Just beyond, the lake sparkled in the mid- day sun. An endless procession of lean, tan bodies circled the small lake, crowding the narrow path that that ran its circumference, disappearing into the wooded park at the far end, only to reappear in the distance across the restless water.
A few blades of long, fine grass yielding to a short gust of fall air teased her ankle near the edge of the quilt. Startled, she brushed at it, as if to send a fly or some similar pest on its way. Now distracted from her daydreams, she turned her attention to Stacey, lying on her stomach next to her. The sky-blue bikini hid little of her slim figure, glowing alabaster-white in the afternoon sun. Turning toward her, she gently touched Stacey's cheek with the back of her hand, then ran it down her neck to her shoulder where her open palm came to rest. It was now more habit than obedience. Stacey had required it of her weeks ago; the brief but intimate gesture was to precede each and every conversation. Whenever they spoke, Sarah kept in touch with Stacey's body until they were done.
Stacey's pixie face was turned toward her. She stirred under Sarah's touch, a wide, warm smile growing beneath closed eyes.
"Mmmm. Nice."
She reached out, eyes still shut, easily finding Sarah's bare leg. Still purring as though half-asleep, she explored the warmth of Sarah's inner thigh. Sarah shuddered, glancing along the path a few yards from them as Stacey's fingers lifted the thin nylon and slid inside the tiny white jogging shorts. Her hand tightened on Stacey's shoulder as she felt a finger enter her, then trace slow circles through the juices pooling between her legs.
Stacey's eyes were open now, peering up at her with teasing curiosity.
"You're sooo wet, Barbie. Did I catch you filling that empty little head with cock fantasies again?"
As usual, Sarah was distracted by the passing joggers. Half-listening to Stacey, her eyes were locked on an approaching boy, about sixteen she guessed, with an enormous erection that bobbed and wobbled as he trotted past them. He looked down at them and smiled, then winked. Sarah was sure she was his target. She waved back, wiggling her fingers and flashing her best Barbie smile.
Flushed, Sarah looked away at the boy departing.
"I think I'll go for a run, Stace. OK?"
"Behave yourself, Barbie. No hanky-panky, and don't be too long - I'm starting to burn."
Stacey watched her prance along the water, now getting stares from everyone she passed. She had insisted that Sarah slit each leg of her tiny shorts to the waistband. In the bright sunlight her translucent tube-top revealed the twin dark circles of her stiffened nipples. Stacey found her pink visor in the clearance section of a local toy store; it bore a cartoon likeness of the ever-popular doll's pouting face just above the Barbie logo, glittering in flowery script that could well have been the signature of Barbie herself, assuming Barbie could write.
Stacey closed her eyes, again smiling with satisfaction. The past weeks had been particularly rewarding. Sarah had worked her way through all the men at the office except for Burgess himself. Each had taken his turn ********* her on daily lunch breaks, drooling at the chance to succeed where the others had failed. Those able to sustain the most impressive erections were treated to a few heart-pounding moments when Sarah would ****** her shaved cunt to them, teasing them with the promise of burying their "big, thick cocks" in her hungry hole. One by one, they all failed. Sarah rejected them because Stacey demanded it. Barbie rejected them because even the biggest cocks weren't big enough.
It wasn't long before all of them despised her. Prolonged frustration followed by wounded egos, all in full view of their peers and subordinates, made her repeated rejections especially humiliating.
When they no longer spoke to Sarah, they began to take out their anger on the nearest female. Secretaries, co-workers, clients - none of the women escaped the wrath of Barbie's handiwork.
And of course, the women hated her as well. They had a headstart. Their aversion to Sarah began the first day Barbie entered the office.
Watching the men fawn over her like school-boys in heat didn't help, and now further abuse from those same vengeful "bags of testosterone" had the women fuming. Soon they turned on each other. Petty disagreements escalated to heated shouting matches followed by periods of sulking while each plotted her own special revenge. The office was in turmoil. Stacey stood in the midst of it, feigning a shared dismay at Sarah's disgraceful conduct, savoring each minute of the chaos she had so successfully orchestrated.
Even Stu had abandoned her. On their second outing, no longer able to resist the magnificent arch of meat straining at the front of his slacks, she placed a hand in his lap as he drove. His cock seemed to go on forever. It throbbed in her hand as she milked the entire length of it, searching for the tip, guessing its length and girth. God, it was sooo entirely huge! She had to have it. Sarah was dripping wet. But he had stopped her when she went for his zipper, desperate to free her long awaited trophy. "P-p-please d-d-don't, Sarah," he had managed with a worried glance. "I'm m-m-married - m-m-y wife - I just c-c-can't." Sarah was stunned. Stacey made things worse when Sarah confided in her later that day.
"I don't understand, Stacey. Why didn't he want me? Any of the others would have jumped at the chance, married or not."
"Barbie, you poor stupid little thing. Don't you get it? What do I have to do to make you understand? Repeat after me, 'Gee, I guess I'm too dumb to get it.' Then, ask me to explain it to you.
"Gee, Stacey, ...uhmm, I guess I'm ...like, so dumb," Sarah stammered, "I mean, too dumb. Could you ... you know, tell me why Stu didn't let me suck his big cock?"
"I'll say this really slow so that even you can understand. Guys with really big cocks only want to fuck the best Barbies, the drop-dead gorgeous ones."
Pulling her in front of the mirrored wall next to her desk, Stacey continued to explain while Sarah looked hesitantly at her reflection.
"Big-cocked guys only fuck Barbies with massive, hard tits and nipples. They only put their cocks inside Barbies with tiny waists and long, thin Barbie thighs with that little space between them that screams 'Fuck me till I cum!' Just look at yourself. You're just not a Big- Cock-Barbie. You're more Hank's type."
Sarah stared into the mirror at what she had become. The hot pink leotard fit her like a glove from neck to ankles. She pulled her shoulders back, forcing the short, white bolero jacket open as her breasts thrust forward against it. Even wearing the heavy, white, platform boots, she saw no daylight between her slim thighs. And she had always wished that her waist was a little longer, a bit more slender.
So she dieted - and exercised - half-heartedly at first, then religiously. Stacey was ecstatic each time Sarah asked to go to the gym, or grunted her way through another exercise set on the apartment floor. When she picked at a salad each night instead of sharing Stacey's deluxe pizza or Chinese take-out, Stacey made a big fuss. Sarah lingered over the details of how she might look in the full- length mirror after one more day of salads and aerobics. She spent hours imagining each new line and curve, each subtle improvement that may lead her to a cock worthy of her attention. 'Pretty soon, those guys with really big cocks will want me. I'll be so hot that the biggest cocks will fight over me.' For Sarah, believing that had not only become a religion for her, it was salvation.
But Stacey's favorite pastime was watching Sarah before bed as she posed in front of the mirror. Naked, on tiptoe, she cupped her breasts with both hands, trying unsuccessfully to make them appear larger and harder than the night before. Then, still stretching, up on the balls of her feet, heels together, she would carefully place a hand between her legs, checking for a space wide enough to allow a single, narrow finger to bridge the widening gap. Best of all was watching Sarah's disappointment return, the increasing dissatisfaction with her body, her developing fantasies of the body she might have that would be irresistible, that definitely would command every cock in sight.
Still, even after her best efforts, Sarah remained an outcast at work. Now her only lunchtime companions were the young construction workers outside her office window. Following up on her desk-top dancing sessions, Sarah would mince and wiggle across the street. She never grew tired of sampling them, eagerly climbing aboard one rusty pick-up truck after another, obsessed with finding a new cock bigger than the last. None of them objected to her hand in his lap, or to her skillful attempts in her quest to bring his cock to its fullest glory. She rewarded those with the biggest cocks by masturbating them as they drove. She was fascinated with the way a cock seemed to surge a bit in size just before eruption. Without realizing it, Sarah had come to love the moment a big, fat cock spewed its thick contents at her. Not sure whether a hand-job counted as the sex Stacey had forbidden, never touching her own steaming cunt, Sarah took no chances, consuming the evidence of her research with enthusiastic licks and slurps.
Today, for the first time, Stacey saw Sarah's obsession spill over into the weekend. In the past, a day away from the office chased Barbie back into the shadows. Even the slightest retreat allowed the familiar hint of regret and humiliation to show in Sarah's eyes, and Stacey would have to resort to an especially embarrassing punishment. Last Sunday she had Sarah loosen the string of her bikini top as she finished the last half of her final lap. Stacey had laughed hysterically as the top fluttered to the ground, Sarah's bare breasts bouncing, legs pumping madly while she fought to make it back to the safety of her towel. Sarah could feel the burning stares of the other runners, but Stacey was quick to remind her that only the men with the smallest dicks looked for more than a second or two. Retrieving her top was worse. Stacey had her go after it when the path was the most crowded. A few of the men stared, but she couldn't avoid the women's vicious insults of "stupid slut" and "blonde bimbo".
But today was a milestone. Sarah's eyes darted from crotch to crotch, sizing each thinly concealed prick, making mental notes of which was the biggest and thickest. She flirted with many of them, and was rewarded with a few unmistakable hard-ons that poked embarrassingly at the front of their jogging shorts.
Stacey watched with amusement as Sarah made the turn that headed her back to their blanket. The pink sneakers cycled up and down as the practiced prance carried her slowly on her way. Soon she collapsed next to Stacey, breathing hard, but smiling brightly. Stacey grinned back in wonder, her eyes drifting lower, away from Sarah's face. Beaming with pride and exhilaration, she decided not to even mention the thin string of semen that arced shimmering and thread-like over Sarah's right shoulder.
-*-
"Pleeeeease? Oh, please, please, please?"
Sarah held Stacey lightly by the shoulders, then moved both hands up to cup her face, stroking her neck along the way. Stacey stood a foot away, bracing herself against Sarah's whining. She despised the grating sound, even if it did come from a Barbie.
Word came on Monday morning that the firm's potential new client would arrive later in the week for final negotiations. Success would mean a promotion to partner for the employee able to demonstrate an image aggressive and creative enough to close the deal.
Sarah continued to beg and whine, hopeful that Stacey would let her dress for the occasion. She met the conservative Japanese executives on their last visit and had charmed them with her no-nonsense air and easy smile. She cringed at the thought of having to greet them dressed in flaming pink spandex. Was a navy business suit too much to ask, for just two days?
Suddenly, eyes glittering, Stacey gave in.
"Oh, alright, Barbie - if it means that much to you. But it won't matter. Clothes may make the man, but they won't give a Barbie Bimbo the sense to come in out of the rain."
"Oh, thank-you, thank-you, thank-you, Stace!"
Sarah took her in her arms, bouncing up and down on tiptoe, continuing to thank her like a small child allowed to stay up past her bedtime. Stacey rolled her eyes, now thankful she had closed the door to Sarah's office.
-*-
Sarah felt like her old self again. She strutted through the office, smug as ever in the sleek Liz Claiborne suit, now confident she could recover any ground lost over the past month and reclaim her career. The morning passed too quickly as she reviewed the lengthy contract, but by noon she was buoyed by increasing optimism. The image in her office mirror was a welcome one for a change. The suit fit as though it was made for her - the jacket square shouldered, narrowing to a long slim waist, the dark skirt flirting with a few inches of thigh above well-sculpted lines of knee and calf. But the picture wasn't perfect. Stacey had insisted on the six-inch heels, although she did allow a matching color. Her platinum hair lay flat and shining along her face, now curled under as it followed the line of her jaw. The jacket bulged at the front, her new breasts tight against the tailored silk blouse. Stacey was right. Barbie was still underneath somewhere, straining to get out. Her only hope was that the bit of Barbie that showed might appeal to the men, giving her an advantage.
"They'll see right through it. You know that, don't you?"
Sarah turned from her reflection, meeting Stacey's stare with an angry one of her own.
"You can dress the Barbie up in fancy clothes, but you can't disguise an empty head. Do you really think they'll listen to you for more than a few seconds? Every time you open your mouth, all they'll be thinking about is how fuckable you are. But I'll have to admit I agree with them. You're so cute, trying to dress like a respectable business woman..."
Stacey crossed the room and put both arms around her waist. She brought her face to within an inch of Sarah's, gazing deeply into her eyes, then looked down at the rigid mounds now crushed against her own modest breasts. Sarah eyed the open door warily, but knew better than to object to Stacey's advances at a time when she needed to stay on her good side. Her hand found Sarah's breast and palmed it, feeling the rising nipple through blouse and bra. Her voice was a raspy whisper.
"Mmmm. I could just slip this off you and suck on these for hours. Bet I could make you cum. Don't you think I could make you cum just by sucking on your tits?"
"Please, Stacey. Not today, not now."
"But why not, my little fucktoy? Don't you want to play with me? Don't you love me anymore? I could make you lose the blouse for your precious meeting - let you show the nice men more titty than you planned. This jacket wouldn't hide much."
Stacey plucked at the buttons. She opened one, then another, and finally a third, slowly parting the fabric to ****** the inner third of both firm spheres.
In the outer office two women stood and chatted directly in Sarah's line of sight. Both noticed her at nearly the same time, and sneered with disgust at Stacey's body, now pressed tightly against hers.
"I-I love you, Stace. But they're watching us! Please, any other day, Stacey, just not today? I'll make it up to you. OK?"
Exasperated, Stacey dropped her arms with an exaggerated sigh.
"Oh, alright Barbie. Go to your silly little meeting. But first, could you do me a really, really big favor?"
Stacey held the yellow square of paper at arm's length. The edge stuck to her outstretched finger, the list of finely written items barely legible from three feet away.
Sarah felt her world caving in about her. As hard as she tried, as desperately as she struggled for what little control Stacey had not yet seized, a tear began to grow at the corner of her eye.
"Pleeease. The meeting's in an hour! I'll never get back in time! You promised! You can't do this to me!"
"Come on, Barbie. It's just a few simple things from that gourmet shop we love so much. I wanted to fix you a nice dinner tonight. You're not going to be ungrateful, are you? You'll have plenty of time if you leave now. Be a good Barbie. Bye-bye!"
By 12:05 Sarah was making her way as fast as she could in the six-inch heels to the nearby construction site. She knew better than to ask any of the men in the office for a ride these days, and besides, they were all busy preparing for the meeting.
They didn't recognize her at first. Pink was her color. But that didn't stop them from staring slack-jawed at the slim young woman approaching them. She marched quickly across the makeshift ramps of wood as if she knew her way, calf muscles flexing beneath six inches of ******* ivory thigh. Then, when she came close enough to count the sparkling beads of sweat racing into waists of their jeans, pooling, she knew, in the spaces made between swollen cocks and straining zippers, she heard her name passed from one man to another.
There was little time to waste. She wiggled her tits, bounced up and down on her toes, and waved her best Barbie wave.
"Hey, guys! Like, can anybody give me a ride? Pleeease?"
A tap on the shoulder startled her. She turned awkwardly, almost falling off the plywood into the deeply rutted mud. Jared stood there grinning, hands on his hips, watching her as the plywood shifted beneath her heels. By now he was her favorite. For a week she sat beside him in his Jeep, smitten by his gray eyes, crooked smile, and perpetually hard, monstrous cock. He was mysteriously quiet from the start, deep she thought. He hadn't flinched the first time she stroked him through his jeans. Then, later, when she routinely freed the log of warm flesh from his pants, he would keep his eyes on the road and grin while she caressed the mushroom-shaped head with her fingertips. It was only after he sensed her pleading eyes on him that he came, covering her hands with a surging river, thick and white. Try as she might, she never seemed able to make him cum until he was ready, after he saw her beg.
Two younger boys hung back, a yard behind on either side. Bared to the tops of their faded cutoffs, they gawked and elbowed each other, peering from behind Jared's sturdy frame.
"Oh Jared, I'm sooo glad to see you! I'm really, really late and I need a ride downtown to that gourmet shop, you remember the one. Can you take me, now, pleeease?"
The two boys chuckled at her choice of words, and edged closer. Jared smiled his crooked smile and took her hand, helping Sarah off the plywood toward a parking lot at the back of the site. He held her hand firmly as they walked, even after they reached the fine gravel where the footing was better. She felt comfortable, protected, just as she had with her husband when they first met. She tried to remember when those feelings had left her, but it hadn't happened in an instant, or even a day or a week. She felt safe in the warmth of Jared's large, callused hand, and, clinging to those few seductive minutes, put her shoulder against his bare arm, never once lowering her eyes to his crotch.
The white van sat at the back of the lot, parked well away from the row of resting dumptrucks and dozers, their job now nearly done. Jared stopped next to the faded blue lettering on the side door.
"Mine's in the garage today. We'll have to take the van. Mind if the boys tag along?"
He unlatched the door, leaning hard against it, sliding it open with a sudden shove. Before she could answer, she was pushed inside followed by Jared and the boys. The door slammed shut taking daylight with it. The van was filled with mover's quilts and plastic tarps, now more visible as her eyes grew accustomed to the dim interior. The sweltering heat robbed her of her breath as she struggled, now tangled in the heavy padding. She was finally on her knees. Then came the sudden burning over her scalp as strong hands grasped her hair, snapping her head backward with a vicious yank.
Jared crouched between her and the windshield. He was a dark silhouette now, without gray eyes or crooked smile. She felt his powerful hands at the sides of her face, then a rough thumb traveling over it, finally forcing it's way into her mouth. His friends held her from behind, one by the hair, the other wrapping her wrists tightly with a strip of cloth.
"What's the matter, Barbie? Not in a party mood? You probably thought I'd be satisfied to let you play with my cock for as long as you like, then wiggle your ass on over to the next guy when you get bored. I've seen your type before. The respectable business woman decides she needs a few jollies, so she goes slumming - thinks it's so cool to go after some real cock for a change instead of that needle-dicked preppie crowd she cuddles up to while she's on the clock. Only you don't fuck us, do you Barbie? You save the pussy for your lawyers and CEOs. What do you think about when they're humping away on that fine little body? The money? Does the money make you cum? Do you see green when you close your eyes and grit your teeth, waiting to slide out from under those pasty momma's boys after they whack off inside you? Well, bitch, do you?"
"Please, please, Jared. You're scaring me. It's not like that, not at all! I want to, I want to so much. You don't know how much I've wanted you. But I can't. I can't explain right now, but I just can't!"
"I think you can. I think it's time you lived out your little fantasy, Barbie. I think it's time you get what you've wanted all along."
His prick was even larger than she remembered, now just inches from her face. He pushed the slick tip against her lips. She welcomed the musky flavor, sealing her mouth firmly around the shaft as it edged forward. Now she wanted nothing more than to show him how hungry she was for him, to devour him with the skills learned from taking hundreds of cocks in her mouth. But her best efforts were useless. The boys held her tightly from behind while Jared clamped her head between his huge hands. She was helpless, unable to move or show her willingness to give in to him. He stabbed roughly at her open mouth, never stopping or allowing her to rest. She lashed at the head with her tongue, then worked it along the heavy ridge on the underside, drooling long strings of saliva down her chin, onto the silk blouse. All feeling drained from her hands as the tightly cinched cloth slowed the flow of blood at her wrists. Her knees burned as the rocking motion ground them into the floor of the van. And she was wet, wetter than she had ever been - dripping, sopping between her legs. If only she - someone - could touch her there, put a finger inside her, just enough to trigger her release. Then, with no warning, he came, filling her mouth and throat with jets of thick, white cum. In an instant, her own orgasm shook her like a jolt of current, holding her in a brief seizure, then racking her with loud moans of relief. Jared pumped his cock deeper into her, forcing the semen she couldn't swallow out of the corners of her mouth, down her chin, and onto the shoulders and front of her tailored suit.
For the next half-hour she gave in to them. Hands tied, limp and willing, she would have tolerated any perversion for a taste of the sex forbidden by Stacey for so long. The two boys took turns at her upturned ass as they bent her over a stack of padding. She heard the skirt rip as it bunched about her waist, then the sudden coolness as her panties were pulled over the tops of her thighs. It burned at first, but eventually even their brutality made her wet. She watched Jared as they sodomized her. He milked his now flaccid cock, still nearly as large as when it filled her mouth. Slowly, his erection returned, almost as if she had willed it back to its jutting, rigid state.
The boys finished quickly, each of them filling her bowels with a load of sticky spunk. It leaked from her slowly as they turned her onto her back, cooling as it settled in small puddles over the dark skirt. Jared appeared between her legs. Her gaze was fixed on his renewed erection as he hovered over her. It was so huge, so potent, so beautiful. The boys held her ankles, spreading her legs until she cried out in pain. Then, Jared was inside her. He filled her suddenly, in a single, swift thrust. She gasped, tilting her hips into him instinctively. She struggled to free her hands, still bound behind her back. She wanted to stroke his chest, run her hands along his strong arms, explore the rows sharp ridges that crossed his belly. She begged him to free her, promising him anything and everything if he would only allow her to show him how much she wanted him.
Instead, Jared's hand closed around her throat as the boys gripped her legs, spreading them painfully until her struggling ceased. Jared's grip tightened until she could no longer speak or moan. Yet, the pressure around her neck was strangely exciting. It made her small and helpless in his firm grasp - impaled on his raging prick, her very breath controlled by a single powerful hand. She was a mere receptacle, weak and willing, controlled by the lust-driven cravings of a savage animal.
Jared squeezed tighter. Breath became more difficult for her as his came faster and deeper. Splotches of black danced before her eyes and darkness approached from all sides. Everything she was was between her legs now, wet, throbbing, sucking, frantic for just the right touch that would bring boiling throes of relief to her fragile body. She could sense it a long way off, building like a tsunami, now closer, closer...
Suddenly, a maddening emptiness between her legs, then a dizzy rush as she was lifted by the back of the neck to face the huge head of the monster. It stung her eyes like hot rain, boiling out of his cock, running over her like molten lava, finally slowing to rest in the creases and valleys of her new suit. He laughed as he sprayed his cum over her, and she burned as her cunt twitched and flowed, searching for relief that was not to come.
They tossed her onto the gravel beside the van, never once looking back as they returned to work. Sarah tried to stand. Small, jagged stones bit into her knees when she fell. On the third try she was able to walk. She staggered back across the gravel lot and the maze of planks leading to her meeting, stopping only long enough to focus on her watch through the broken crystal. She had ten minutes.
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