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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of  o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups).   There is no  o
o  particular  order  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o  	I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to  o
o  be typed therefore I don’t type things myself."  I think it’s  o
o  a lot more fun to browse around and find  'little'  surprises  o
o  that you might not have even thought of looking for.           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!   This story was produced as adult en-  o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.   Kristen         o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o


Ergonomic Chairs (MF)
by Rajah Dodger (c) 1997


***


     "I don't know how you find them, Thomas", my visitor
commented.  "I've never seen a quieter secretarial pool in any of
the offices I've surveyed this year.  What's your secret?"

     "Ergonomics," I said mildly.  "It's all in providing a
proper work environment conducive to productivity.  Special
desks, special chairs, that sort of thing."

     "Well, Mr. Porlock, I must say if the rest of your operation
is as impressive as this, the home office will have no trouble
approving your expansion plans."

     I smiled to myself.  Sheila Manderly would find nothing on
the rest of the tour to object to.  Just as well that she didn't
seem to be interested in the details of just how "special" some
of that furniture was...

     *****

     Six months ago I had been contemplating bankruptcy.  I had
the busiest import-export firm on the Gulf coast but my back
office couldn't keep up with the activity.  Companies were being
misbilled, shipments were lost and customers were getting more
and more unhappy.  Further, my personnel costs were going out the
window even though I kept having to replace trained workers (who
left for better paying jobs) with new, cheap help.

     Then I saw the ad in the back of the paper.  It was barely
noticeable in the Furniture For Sale group.  "Women's Chairs -
special design for motivation.  $325 each, ask for Sondra."  That
and a phone number.  Something about the wording of the ad piqued
my interest.

     Sondra had a low, whiskey-tinged voice on the phone, and
gave me directions to a warehouse building on the east side of
town.  I pulled my 4x4 into the dirt parking lot and went up to
knock on the door.  Before my knuckles could hit the metal, the
door swung open.  A sultry redhead in a loose-fitting jumpsuit
greeted me.  "Cal? I'm Sondra.  Won't you come in?"  I followed
her into a forlorn office space, and sat down on an old wooden
chair while she perched on the edge of the desk.

     "What are you looking for," she inquired.  Well, I wasn't
totally sure but I found myself telling her about my business and
the problems I was having.  "So you see, the word you used to
describe those chairs - motivation - sounded like it might be
helpful. Although I must say $325 sounds a little on the high
side."

     She looked me over for a few minutes, and finally commented
"For some people it would be high.  For the right customers,
though, it's cheap at the price.  Let's go see a demonstration."

     She got up and headed through the back door into the
warehouse as I wondered how you "demonstrate" a chair.

     *****

     The warehouse was dim and echoed with the sounds of ancient
air compressors dying in the southern heat.  She moved quickly
around several areas where I noticed woodworking equipment, a
plastic extruder and some unfamiliar machine tools.  Most of
these areas were occupied by quiet women working industriously.
We stopped at a desk with a "Bookkeeping" nameplate.  The woman
there had her fingers flying over the keys of an adding machine.
Sondra interrupted her.  "Janice, I have a customer here - would
you please take a break?" A strange look - of pleading? - passed
over the bookkeeper's face, and she mumbled something like "yes,
ma'am" while she totalled her tape and set down her pencil.

     The woman pushed her chair back and stood up, straightening
her skirt, then walked to one side of the desk.  "Check it out,"
Sondra invited me.  I walked around the desk and looked at the
chair.  To all appearances it was a fairly standard issue office
chair, casters, adjustable seat.  The seat cushion was of some
unfamiliar material, and didn't have the stiff feel I normally
associate with office furniture.  I sat down in the chair and
rolled it up to the desk.

     Now I began to see some difference.  Without having to make
any adjustments, I found myself at an optimum height for working.
The back of the chair seemed to find the small of my back
automatically.  When I leaned back away from the desk, the chair
supported me in a comfortable position, but not one where I'd
easily fall asleep.  I looked at Ssee where you might go $200 for
this," I remarked, "whatever you have here is better than 
anything else I've seen in the market.  But I can't see $325."

     Sondra smiled openly now.  "There are some features that
aren't immediately obvious," she responded.  "Janice!" The
bookkeeper approached.  "Please take your place in the chair so
Mr. Porlock can see how it works." Janice had that odd look on
her face again, but merely replied "Yes, mum" and moved behind
the desk as I rose from the chair.

     Janice stood in front of the chair, and to my shock pulled
her skirt up to her waist! She had neither panties nor hose, and
I noticed that her pubic area seemed swollen. Holding her skirt,
she sat down on the chair, legs parted.  As she did so, an
opening appeared in the seat between her legs and something moved
upward between her bare thighs.  It looked like the knob of an
English saddle with a thinner stub projecting from it. As I
watched, fascinated, the thinner probe made its way into Janice
until the saddle was nestled firmly against her mound.  Her eyes
lidded over briefly, then she shook her head and let her skirt
down covering her decorously.

     "There's a matching probe in the back." Sondra's voice broke
in on my reverie and I felt her hand on my ass, moving between my
bottom cheeks with knowing strokes.  "It's a modification of the
intermittent reward theory of positive reinforcement.  The inner
probes have the feel and temperature of human flesh, and they
expand, contract and move at random intervals.  Janice would
rather break a date than be late coming back from lunch, wouldn't
you dear?" The bookkeeper nodded, her white teeth worrying her
lower lip.

     Meanwhile Sondra had insinuated her hand between my legs and
was busily stroking my balls.  I was already aroused from
Janice's demonstration, and it took most of my strength to remove
her hand before I came in my pants.  "I begin to see how you can
charge $350," I said as I turned to face her, "but how do you
convince her to get into the chair in the first place?"

     "We have a model that works on an induction principle," she
replied, and turned to walk back toward the office.  "You use
that model and watch their reaction.  If they complain about the
chair you give them regular furniture and let them leave of their
own accord.  If they start coming to work early, you know to give
them the standard model." We arrived back in the office, and I
took the same seat I had earlier while Sondra busied herself
behind her desk.

     I leaned back to catch my breath, when suddenly I had the
oddest feeling, as if something furry were wrapped around my
balls and stroking with light teasing motions.  I looked down but
there was nothing there. The feeling became more powerful, and
now it felt as if there was a wet tongue rasping across the head
of my cock, now sucking... I gripped the arms of the chair as I
gave in to the pleasure and came, sudden and hard, soaking the
front of my pants.  Even as my orgasm subsided and my cock
started softening, my balls still felt occasional light brushes
that sent little shocks of pleasure up my spine.

     When I looked up, Sondra had a knowing smile on her face.
"Did I mention we have models for men too?"

THE END