Author: Urquhart Devlin Title: Working the Line Summary: Bill works in the processing plan preparing the stock. Not a very exciting job, but he manages to find a way to keep himself amused. Keywords: M F cons inc sad scat snuff tort ----------------------- Working the Line ----------------------- by Urquhart Devlin Bill eased the thick steel hooks through the breasts of the skinny brunette, struggling a little to find enough tit-flesh on her chest to embed them securely. Unmoved by the howls, or that typical look of slightly panicked pleading in the dark eyes, he pressed the button that would raise the woman clear of the floor. A gentle push, and she trundled down the track to the butchers next door. It was only ten minutes since she’d walked naked into the room, wrists already held behind her back for Bill to tie together. That could well have been a personal best on a full initial prep, even with that awkward moment over those little bee-sting boobs. He gave a satisfied smile as the strips of plastic curtain closed over the wriggling tight curves of her backside. Quick work meant Bill had an unplanned few minutes to enjoy his success - he was allowed twenty minutes for prepping each female - just time to make a good strong cup of tea. Refreshed and ready he smiled as the next woman, naked as the first, walked through the door from the holding area, her own face fixed in a look of subdued trepidation. Neither the body, a fit enough woman in her early thirties, or the worried look on her face were likely to be remembered by Bill. Just occasionally you got outright shaking terror, even sometimes a strange excitement - either providing a bit of light relief in the monotony of the day - but most showed the resigned look of someone simply doing as expected. Hands tied, bladder hoovered out while crotch and underarms were singed of hair, then the tricky moment feeding seven foot of pipe into the colon. There was no way of speeding up the irrigation, you had to withdraw the pipe very slowly as the woman’s bowels were washed completely clean. After that a quick hose down, washing the forced-out excrement off the floor and from where it had poured down the woman’s legs, swilling all the filth into the big drain. Finally hooks into breasts - far easier on this body that sported a decent pair of Ds - and impaled mammaries to stretching painfully upwards as he pressed the button once more. That had been his job for the last few months, ever since his mother had got him an interview here at the plant on the day after he’d left school. It wasn’t a bad job, and the pay was pretty good, but his teenage boy's fascination with seeing women unclothed had pretty much ended for Bill even before basic training was over. **** He’d quickly learnt to be casual and professional - an air of competence helped keep the women relaxed, but there was still one type that attracted more than professional interest. Unknown faces might now be just bodies to process, but Bill wasn't yet too jaded to get a frisson of excitement when a woman or girl he’d known before was on his line. He’d pretty much got over the thrill of having respectable women - who’d have slapped his face if he'd so much as touched their knee before - now uncomplainingly let him deep between their legs with no attempt to resist, A familiar face though - even the slightest acquaintance - letting him invade their privacy could still get him hot. The oddest thing, certainly with those he really knew, was how often their pussies were distinctly moist when his fingers slipped inside. It was a big plant, taking in women from a wide area, so it wasn’t every day that anyone he really knew passed through his hands - still, there had been a few. The most memorable had been the gym mistress from his old school. Her shock of ginger hair and well-developed bust had always attracted his attention far more than attempts by an elderly games master to improve Bill’s athletic skill. When Bill had seen that familiar red head coming towards him, that capacious bosom he'd lusted after now free and gently swinging on her tight and toned torso, his cock had hardened at the sight. Seeing a matching flaming bush poking out from the top of her thighs, and realising his hand would shortly be plunging in there, Bill had felt a little drop of pre- cum seep into his boxers. **** That had been a high point for Bill, up to now. The day hadn’t been going well, and he was running badly behind. He could hear his next job being sent in while his current woman wasn’t even raised from the floor. The nameless girl he was prepping, from her looks barely twenty, had been particularly awkward. She’d struggled and flapped around, causing herself more torment than Bill had intended to administer. Then her tight little cunt had been as arid as a desert, he could feel the delicate walls tearing as he forced his hand inside. As he washed the blood off he caught a glimpse of his next job pushing through the plastic flaps from the holding room. Bill stood still, open mouthed, oblivious to the water now spraying over him. After a moment he managed to pull himself together and turn back to the job in hand, now trembling and blushing furiously. The poor young woman was hastily finished off and the button pressed to send her on her way, her tits so badly hooked they were almost ripped apart as she pushed through the other set of plastic strips on her way out. Bill didn’t see the results of his work, he was turning with badly concealed excitement towards his new task. “Hi Bill.” she said, smiling at him surprisingly sweetly considering her situation. “When your mum said you were working here, I rather hoped I might get you.” **** Mrs Thompson had lived next door to Bill and his parents ever since he was a little boy. What made him blush was the memory of the day, just coming into puberty, his hormones were raging, when he’d caught a glimpse of her naked body rushing across the upstairs landing when he went round to return a shovel his father had borrowed. That had been when red hair, and a good pair of tits with pale nipples swinging and bouncing around, had imprinted themselves onto his brain as the most erotic and enthralling sight. The fact that Mrs Thompson, then barely over thirty, had lovely smooth skin stretched over shapely womanly curves had only helped his lustful imaginings. That image kept him warm as he lay in bed for many pleasant nights afterwards. **** “Mrs Thompson.” Bill replied, trying to suppress another blush and not look too longingly at her generous and still remarkably firm breasts. “How are you?” It was a bit of a stupid question, given where they both were, but, apart from a brief hint of a grin at the young man’s awkwardness, she managed to remain unruffled. “Very well at the moment, thank you.” she replied lightly. “But I think in a few minutes you'll have changed that.” “You’re certainly looking well Mrs Thompson.” Bill answered distractedly, caught out by her cheerful honesty as he tried not to gawk uncontrollably. “I think you could call me Alice now Bill, given how we’re meeting.” she said, with just a touch of promise, following how his eyes kept flicking down from her face. “And I don’t mind at all if you want to take a good look. For a woman in her forties it’s not a bad body - if I do say so myself.” There was every reason not to stand there grabbing an eyeful. Running badly behind he should already be manhandling that attractive body in the most intrusively intimate manner – at least if he wanted to keep his job. There’d been a dozen women in his hands today - all of them just as naked, several of them far more obviously beautiful - but he’d barely notice them as he probed and pummelled their intimate areas before finally rupturing their bosoms. This slightly-faded redhead, showing just a hint of grey and a slight sag to her buxom curves, was the first in a good while to make Bill pause and consider. Mrs Thompson was his last job before lunch. He had time if he didn’t eat - and working over his teenage fantasy woman was one task he was in no hurry to finish. “Come over her then... Alice.” he said, stumbling the unpractised name as he motioned her to the slab. “Hop up and we'll make a start.” **** Pushing the catheter tube up into the little pee-hole, trying to ignore the way Mrs Thompson’s pussy was so obviously clenching and dribbling its juices. Hearing the quick wincing intake of breath that showed he’d reached the bladder. Without looking round, Bill pressed the button on the pump that would speedily suck out all the liquid. A few seconds later he had to duck to avoid a flailing foot, as Alice let out a sharp shriek, her whole body contorting. Having your bladder forcibly drained of piss wasn’t comfortable, but that wasn’t the usual reaction. Bill looked wildly round and then dived for the off switch on the pump. He’d left the setting on maximum! With that much power, he could only guess at the damage that had been done to Mrs Thompson’s insides. “You are a naughty boy.” Alice gasped, as the machine was finally switched off. “I didn’t hear the woman before me screaming like that. I think you did it deliberately.” “Honestly no.” Bill assured her, drawing another brief howl as he had to yank the catheter back out far harder than normal, bringing with it a worrying spurt of watery blood. “I’m not supposed to damage your insides. I’ll be getting complaints when you’ve been opened up and they see what I’ve done.” “All right.” said Mrs Thompson soothingly. “I believe you.” Though she should, quite rightly, have been annoyed with him, there was a note in her voice that almost sounded like disappointment. At first Bill thought her dissatisfaction was with his poor workmanship, but then a strange, intriguing, alternative occurred. “Were you hoping I’d done it deliberately?” he breathed cautiously, unable to hide a note of wonder in his voice. “A bit, yes.” Alice admitted, blushing nearly as brightly as her hair. “I was just hoping for something a bit personal.” she continued hastily, trying to fill the silence coming from Bill’s dangling, open mouth. “I know how you look used to look at me and, if I’m providing you with a bit of fun, that has to be better than an anonymous dispatch.” It was Bill’s turn to feel his face hot with a blush again. He hadn’t realised his teenage crush had known how he felt. “You want to be hurt?” “I wouldn’t go that far.” Mrs Thompson said, reddening prettily again. “But I’ve heard stories of you lads having a bit of fun with us product, and I don’t mind if you do with me.” **** In idle moments, Bill had wondered what he’d do if given carte blanche with one of the many women who passed through his hands. He’d noticed early on in his career how particularly satisfying thrusting the thick steel hooks through soft, fatty breast meat was, as the woman squirmed and squealed delightfully with the pain. Well, now he had been given permission - at least by the woman who would be doing the suffering. It was an offer he couldn't refuse and Bill planned to do everything he thought might just be passed off as an accident or sloppy workmanship. So he did, but he was a little nervous to see, after he’d finished, how much evidence there was of his play - especially a worryingly large number of bruises across Mrs Thompson's ample chest. Then there was how her arse dribbled the remains of a brutal enema that had swollen her belly until she could hardly breath, or how it too seemed to have received a beating that left it swollen and bloody. “Thank you dear.” said Mrs Thompson to Bill from where she lay, recovering as best she could from the torment he’d just put her through. “I’m glad I could give you such thrills.” They both knew she had more than one load of Bill’s cum inside her, the last pumped deep into her still wet pussy as he had such fun with her unprotected tits. Now, with regret softened by pleasure, he forced the hooks through the discoloured mounds to another arousing batch of squeals. It took a supreme effort on Bill’s part, as those breasts stretched and distorted under Mrs Thompson’s weight with a final titillating shriek, not to drop her back down and stuff his suddenly recovered erection into any hole available. **** Bill watched Mrs Thompson disappear through the flaps of the plastic curtain, those glorious boobs now almost stretched above her head as her weight on the steel hooks started to gently rip their flesh open. Even with this new torment, she gamely managed a little wiggle of her full bottom before it finally disappeared. Bill watched her go with some trepidation, but a throbbing hard cock - his lust still greater than worry at the consequences if someone noticed jism dribbling down her thighs. **** Despite his concern, nothing was ever said about the state in which he’d sent Mrs Thompson on her way. When, a few weeks later, the daughter of the couple who ran the corner shop came through - and Bill found another dribbling snatch - he felt emboldened enough to actually offer his services (in exchange for the chance to inflict a little extra pain). To his astonishment, and relief, his offer was taken up by the previously demure girl with an pleased smile. After some months, and a select but steady stream of women who’d received his special ministrations, Bill came to the conclusion that management, or at least the butchers working further down the line, turned a blind eye to the odd women who hadn’t been treated quite according to the handbook. Even when the checkout girl from the supermarket went through with a broken arm and blood streaming from her arsehole nothing had been mentioned. **** Now he'd found something to break the monotony, Bill settled happily into the job. Even the daily grind of trussing & cleaning took on a new excitement knowing the next female might be up for some serious mishandling. That's why, grabbing a chance to tidy the workbench on an unusually light Thursday afternoon, Bill glanced up when the next woman finally entered his prep room with just a bit of eagerness - it might just be someone he knew. It took him a second to realise what he was looking at - the face and body were almost too familiar, though he hadn’t seen that thick black bush and pair of wide brown nipples for many years. Then his moment of stunned confusion was over, and he knew it was his mother standing naked in front of him. Bill couldn’t help wilting a little under her gaze, the face as stern as ever, arms incorrectly but firmly folded under her substantial breasts. He should tell her to place both hands behind her back, but his mother had never been particularly cuddly. Now she was probably going to start correcting his technique instead as he shoved his implements inside her. “Apparently the boys next door are impressed by your dedication to having fun.” his mother told with that steely glint in her eye that never boded well. “They told me they haven’t met anyone before who was sending through spoiled stock so regularly after more than a year in the job.” Bill blushed bright red. After all this time he’d reckoned his exploits with the stock were nothing out of the ordinary – and definitely nothing to attract comment. The only bit of relief was the news people were impressed rather than annoyed, which might just mean he wouldn’t lose his job. On the other hand, that now meant his mother was aware of his guilty pleasures, and he dreaded what she was about to say if all the filthy details had been passed on to her. “Jism in every orifice a woman has, even the nose.” his mother went on, her face now oddly expressionless. “And a suspicious selection of rips, bruises and broken bones. What have you been up to Bill?” “It's boring here mum.” he heard himself whining, feeling about five again. “This job's so dull. Sometimes I just can’t help having a bit of fun with the stock. It's not as if anyone's complained.” At that his mother’s face cracked, and broke out into the most unexpectedly broad grin. “You can be very innocent sometimes Bill.” she told him, her voice strained by the laughter in it. “Of course the lads in here play with the goods occasionally, everyone knows that. Why do you think there’s an hour with me before the next woman is sent in?” It took a moment for the penny to drop, but then Bill understood. His workmates must have worked out his penchant for familiar faces, and had decided to treat him with a chance at the most familiar face of all. He’d been about to reluctantly tell his mother he’d try to be quick and gentle, but now he thought that might not be right. “What are you expecting?” Bill asked his mother, gently dipping into waters he still couldn’t quite believe. “The works.” his mother said confidently. “The woman running holding assured me the guys next door will keep quiet even if I turn up in pieces.” “You’d better bend over then.” The words tumbled out of Bill in such a rush they were almost unintelligible. His own mother offering herself for his harshest treatment was arousing him even beyond Alice. Seeing her hairy slit revealed as she leant over the bench - pussy juices actually dribbling out - was the final spur to action. He nearly went first to fill the gushing cunt he’d been pushed out from with his sticky seed, but Bill could resist even less the dark puckered hole above it. Experiment with the fat brunette from the library had revealed an excellent way to make an anal pounding extra special. Anyway, he thought, shoving his dick into his mother’s mouth afterwards for her to lick it clean of her own filth was certain to have him hard again in seconds. “Just going to drain your piss.” he told his mother, as the metal tube slipped in with almost no effort. “This may hurt a bit when the suction starts to rip your bladder apart.” He didn’t mention he’d be forcing his dick into her colon to dry-pound her, but she took the discovery with no more than a large grunt of discomfort. When he turned on the pump - now deliberately set to full power - there was a brief moment of expectation while the liquid drained out. Then the agony of having your insides sucked into a tube hit. Bill rode the screaming waves, feeling her sphincter and bowels roll in gratifying clenches round the cock he was now wildly thrusting in and out. So steamed up, it didn’t take long before he was bucking his warm cum into her bowels, his mother’s continued agony still forcing her muscles grab at his pulsing shaft. By the time he’d pulled out, and reached across to turn off the machine, all she could do was flop down gasping for air. She barely noticed him grabbing her hair, or using it to lift up her head until her panting mouth was level with his filthy member. Only when he’d pushed the stinking thing past her lips did she try and weakly protest. “You wanted my full service mum.” Bill reminded the protesting face, pushing her head further into his groin. “Now clean all your shit off me.” Bill was a little surprised when his mother did actually start to suck at his cock, her tongue even swirling round its length as he grew again. After such a brutal start, he had half expected her to change her mind, insisting that he finished of her prep in the standard way. Now, as his cock started to make her gag, its swelling length forcing itself deeper into her throat, she didn’t try to resist. As his passion grew again, Bill’s eyes were flicking between her delicate fingers and the lump hammer that was normally kept for opening the most tightly clenched sphincters. **** By the time his mother finally passed to the butchers, still just about breathing, she most certainly did not look like a woman who had received Bill’s everyday service. Even the hooks to carry her had needed to be jammed under her arms, her once decent tits ripped to pieces. Bill himself had collapsed onto the bench breathing heavily, now utterly spent. The way his mother had let him brutally mutilate her - even managing after that first attempted refusal to encourage ever more vicious damage from him between her screams - had made him hard again and again. Then the final time he’d cum, squeezing a last few drops into the empty eye socket he was banging, he could have sworn his mother’s body shook with an orgasm as well. He’d have liked to ask her, but a smashed jaw and ripped tongue made that impossible. Heaving himself up, he grabbed the hose and broom and started to clean up - washing skin, flesh and splinters of bone into the big drain. The only thing he bent down to pick up was a single eyeball, which he put carefully to one side as a memento. Hardly finished with the clean-up, there was the familiar rustle of bare flesh on plastic curtain. Turning round he saw a short haired brunette, her face cast so far down she appeared to be staring at her own exposed nipples, standing uncertainly just inside the room. “Come over here please.” said Bill, wearily, grabbing another tie from the big box on his workbench. ********THE*END******** © 2015 Urquhart Devlin This story is a fantasy, set in another place, with only the slightest passing nod to our reality as it’s glimpsed on a distant horizon. If this isn’t immediately apparent to you, dear reader, you should not be reading it.