Good Job Bad Job

This story could also go in Non-Consent/Reluctance, so if that's not your thing, you've been warned. It could also go in several other categories, but I think that Loving Wives is the best place.

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When I graduated High School at age 19 I had some things going for me, and some things going against me.

I was good looking with a cherubic face, and although I didn't do much exercise that caused me to sweat I had a good build with no midriff bulge whatsoever, and whenever I was pushed into doing something in a weight room I found that I was stronger than average for someone my size - six foot one inch, 185 pounds. My dick was bigger around than average and my balls produced lots of seminal fluid which I had significant success sharing with trashy women (no success with intelligent ones). I also had slightly above average intelligence. Unfortunately, that's where the things going for me ended.

The things going against me were primarily due to the fact that I was lazy. I didn't work hard in school, I didn't go out for sports because they were too taxing, and I didn't like to work outside of school either. I hated, and usually fucked up, the part-time jobs that my parents pushed me into getting in an attempt to make me a productive member of society. I guess that I also had the attitude that the world owed me a living, and I would much rather party than do anything serious. Basically I was an underachieving asshole.

After High School I found out that the world didn't owe me anything.

My parents were pretty disgusted with me and my 2.3 grade point average when I graduated High School, and thought that I was a bad influence on my two younger brothers so they made sure to let me know that I would be on my own within three months of graduation. Of course given my lack of academic success and money college was completely out of the question, so I started looking for jobs and a place to share with others similarly situated.

Within the time allotted by my parents to get out of the house I got a part time job bagging groceries, another part time job unloading trucks (it was harder than I cared to work but I found out that I needed money to live), and with two friends and two acquaintances rented a rundown house. My parents had given me a two year old Honda PCX 150 motorcycle (don't call it a scooter) as a graduation present, so I had transportation.

I didn't last long at my unloading trucks part-time job because of my aversion to real work, but was able to pick up another one as a small package delivery man (using my Honda) for an Amazon contractor. Between the two part-time jobs I was making ends meet, but not much more, and I wasn't having much fun. By the time of my 21st birthday I was getting bummed. Then a few days after I turned 21 I got lucky, and for a short period of time thought that maybe the world would just give me a living without me having to really work for it.

One Saturday morning my last delivery was to a company in a small suburban office building. The company was called "Delivering Fantasies LLC." I saw a hot chick walk into the building as I got there, and in the hopes of maybe seeing her again and hitting on her once I entered I took off my helmet and locked it to my motorcycle. I looked into one of my side view mirrors to make sure that my hair was combed. When I entered the company's office the hot chick wasn't there, but the receptionist was cute and friendly so I chatted her up for a few minutes. I was just about to leave when a mid-30s-something professionally dressed nice-looking woman came out of a room behind the receptionist's desk and smiled at me.

"Hi; are you new at delivering packages for Amazon?" she asked.

"I've been doing it part-time for about six months now, why do you ask?" I curiously replied.

"When is your last delivery today?"

"I just made it to - Cheryl, isn't it," I responded, pointing to the cute receptionist and smiling.

"Do you have time to talk for a few minutes about another potential part-time job?" the well-put-together woman asked.

"Sure," was my enthusiastic response.

The woman shook my hand, introduced herself as Melanie West while I introduced myself as Colin Baines, and then she led me back to her office, closing the door after we entered. Based upon the size and luxury of the office Melanie appeared to be the head honcho at Delivering Fantasies LLC, impressive to me since she was very young to be the big boss.

Melanie made small talk for a while and then started asking me all sorts of questions about my background. Normally I would have been reluctant to give out as much information as she wanted me to but there was something about her combined stately bearing and penetrating eyes that reduced my normal inhibitions, so I honestly and completely answered all of her questions.

After about ten minutes of interrogation Melanie said "I'd like to ask you some personal questions now," as if the questions so far hadn't been personal, "and tell you about the position I'm trying to fill. However, before I do that we both need to sign a confidentiality agreement."

I wasn't really sophisticated enough to specifically know what a confidentiality agreement was, but I assumed that we needed to trade secrets, so I nodded my head. She handed me a one page document, single spaced, and went over each paragraph with me. It looked straightforward and I certainly wasn't going to say "I'll have my lawyer look it over" including because I didn't have an attorney. We both signed and dated two originals, one for her, one for me.

"Now that we got that out of the way, Colin, let me tell you what we do here. As our company name implies we deliver fantasies for all types of people. As long as they're legal we can usually arrange to realize most fantasies. Some involve arranging trips to unusual places or arranging participation in rare activities; some involve a meet and greet with a celebrity; some involve getting a bit part in a movie; some involve sexual fantasies; and many others. One fantasy that we have found is very common - although the number of women who can afford to have it done right is small - is a woman having what is sometimes called a 'rape fantasy,' but which is more accurately termed a 'ravaging fantasy.'"

I gulped. She had my attention. "Some women want to be raped?" I blurted out as I felt my face flush.

"Not really raped, which is a violent act; rather what they want is to be taken against their will, which is why I refer to it as a 'ravaging fantasy,'" Melanie smiled. I wanted to say something else but my words were caught in my throat so nothing came out. Melanie grinned some more and then continued. "A number of studies over the last forty years have determined that 31 to 57 percent of American women aged 18-50, with a median frequency of about once a month, have a ravaging fantasy. That's just the number who admit to it in surveys; the actual number is probably closer to 70%. We have been offering that service for about a year, and we need new blood," she grinned.

I was very uncomfortable as she asked me questions about my sexual libido and history, but I answered them honestly. Then we got to the really nitty-gritty part. "Would you be interested in our part-time job of fulfilling ravaging fantasies?"

"What does it entail?" I inquired.

"Usually some well-heeled woman between 21 and 50 pays to have someone, with some sort of ruse, come to her living establishment between predetermined convenient times. Of course to make it realistic the actual date and time is never given to the client, but we need a range so that we know when she is alone. Then our operative overpowers her and fulfills her fantasy. She can choose from a number of options including being gagged, restrained, actual pussy intercourse, just oral or anal, ejaculating on or in her body, her fighting back vigorously or succumbing easily, ripping clothes, not ripping clothes, one penetration or multiple penetrations, and the list goes on."

I couldn't fucking believe this, but Melanie seemed to be dead serious, and I couldn't find any candid cameras, so I asked "How much does it pay?"

"Depending on the particulars you would get between $700 and $900, and we would of course pay all expenses. There is a 4-5 session training period when we only pay you $10/hour, and part of your $700-$900 payment includes a dry run session which usually takes about an hour," she announced.

"How many calls do you get for these ravaging fantasies?"

"Last year, the first year we offered them, we had eleven. Based upon inquiries so far this year we may almost double that number. That's not a lot in a metropolitan area of 4,000,000 but enough to continue to offer the service."

"Do you have someone who does them now?"

"One guy, part time, but like I told you we need new blood," Melanie said with a diabolical grin.

"Are condoms necessary?"

"Yes, unless the client submits a timely clear STD test and you check out the same using a test that we pay for."

"What are the clients like?"

"Of the eleven we have had so far 2 have been in their 20s, 4 in their thirties, 2 in their forties, and 1 in her fifties; two were really good looking, the other nine average looking."

"How do you get around prostitution laws?" I asked surprising myself with that one because it actually made me sound sophisticated.

"We never put actual intercourse into our contracts, just the peripheral stuff; plus we vet our clients carefully. So, the million dollar question; are you interested?" she asked.

I thought for a while. $700 was more than I made in both of my part-time jobs combined in a week, and getting free sex besides? An ideal job for a guy like me, who is lazy and likes to party, I quickly concluded. "Yes I'm interested," I announced.

"OK, then there's just one more inquiry. I need to see your equipment" Melanie said as she walked to the door and locked it?

"Wh...wh...wh...what?" I stammered.

"I need to see your equipment; drop your pants," she sternly said.

She saw me hesitating; I wasn't sure if I was going to do this. "Do you need some encouragement?" she grinned.

I nodded my head "Yes."

Still grinning she slowly removed her suit jacket, then her blouse, then her bra, displaying a really outstanding pair of natural tits, probably the best that I had ever seen. My cock saluted and my inhibitions subsided. I dropped my pants and boxers with my cock proudly saluting. She looked at my crotch, walked toward me, gave both my cock and balls a light squeeze, then said "A thick fella, isn't he; you've got the job."

Before she turned to walk away I gently grabbed each of her tits. She let my hands linger for about ten seconds and then slapped them away. "Don't get any ideas about perks; that is the last time that you will see or touch my puppies," she chuckled.

We signed a contract and set the next morning at ten o'clock for the first training session.

I was pleased to see that Cheryl, the cute receptionist, was also the "training dummy," while Melanie was the instructor. The first session was fairly tame and lasted about an hour. The second and third sessions were more hands on, and each lasted about 90 minutes. By then Cheryl and I had become comfortable with each other.

The fourth, and ostensibly the last, session was a complete "dress rehearsal," with Cheryl serving as the unsuspecting client. This actually took place at Melanie's house while her husband was out of town. My pretext was delivering a large box on a dolly that Cheryl had to sign for, and it included a tape gag, ripped clothing, restraint, fighting back, and ejaculation in her pussy with a condom on. I was nervous but determined to do everything right, and I had prepared more for this job than for anything else in my entire life.

To make it realistic Melanie wasn't in the room, but watched live using three strategically placed cameras. What I was most worried about was overpowering Cheryl without hurting her. Either I was a natural, I had prepared well, or both, because things went off almost perfectly. I wasn't prepared for how good I would feel "forcing myself" on Cheryl, however. My orgasm - and unless she was acting, hers too - was monumental and debilitating especially considering that it was with a condom. [Did I mention that Cheryl was cute? Also, she had a really snug pussy.]

Melanie was very pleased and gave me only a few pointers when we reviewed the video together from all three cameras, me with a hard on while watching myself fuck Cheryl. I was intrigued by the fact that Melanie seemed to be pretty hot and bothered herself as we viewed the video, and at least a couple of times I saw her squeeze one of her own tits.

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For each real job I was given a basic description of the client and she was given a basic description of me. I also had photos of the client's apartment or house so that I could see where anything that I needed was, and which also was a double check that I was at the right location.

My first four jobs, over a period of five months, were interesting. They all went off near perfect and in each case the client was very satisfied. I always did exactly what I was supposed to, nothing more, nothing less. Before each job I did a rehearsal with Cheryl, although much to my disappointment it wasn't to completion like my fourth training session, and unfortunately my contract provided that I couldn't have a romantic or sexual relationship with any employee of Delivering Fantasies outside of work. All four clients, who ranged in age from 32 to 47, were average looking, but I really got into it with each of them. Although I was never told, just from their living quarters I got the impression that three were single but that the 47 year old was married.

My fifth job was to be with a client in her late twenties, who obviously either had a really good job or a trust fund because she lived in one of the most luxurious apartment buildings in the entire metropolitan area. I had my normal run through with Cheryl the day before, taking particular note of where a large heavy metal coffee table was located that I would use for restraining the client. She wanted a tape gag, ripped clothing, restraint, no condom, and fight-back.

It was about 2 p. m. on a Saturday when I arrived at the client's apartment door, after almost having to be strip searched by the guard at the first floor desk before I was cleared to go up to the 16th floor. I had a large, mostly empty, box on a dolly with a label reading "Abigail Sessions," the client's name and the correct address. I rang the doorbell and sensed someone looking through the peephole to see me in a UPS uniform with my large box. When the client opened the door I got an immediate hard-on, but was somehow able to speak. "Delivery for Abigail Sessions that someone has to sign for," I announced in a professional voice.

The client waved me in; she was wearing a tank top, no bra, with what appeared to be the nicest big tits that I had ever seen in my life, except maybe Melanie's. She was short so I wondered how she could walk upright with those marvels on her chest pulling her forward. She had on a pair of shorts, was barefoot, and had wet hair, indicating that she had just gotten out of the shower. Her face was about an 8 on a scale of 1-10 but her body was a sure-fire 10. I moved the box on the dolly inside, making sure that the door closed behind me, and then handed her the clipboard with a fake form on it for her signature.

As she was signing the form on the clipboard I slapped a piece of duct tape over her mouth with my right hand and lifted her up with my left arm holding her arms at her side, soon joined by my right arm. I quickly moved toward the metal coffee table and virtually fell on top of her - without hurting her - on the well cushioned Oriental rug on the floor. I held her arms to her sides while she struggled vigorously as I pulled out of my right pants pocket the two fur-lined cuffs connected together by a ten inch hardened steel chain.

The little tiger was fighting fiercely but she was at most 5 feet 4 inches, 115 pounds (unless her tits added another five pounds) and I overpowered her. Within about twenty seconds I had both of her hands cuffed to the heavy metal coffee table.

I was primarily sitting on her legs as she faced the table so she had no leverage to dislodge me. I ripped off her top, which wasn't too difficult, exposing the nicest set of D-cup tits that I had ever seen in my life - again except for perhaps Melanie's.

Her shorts were more of a problem, but I withdrew a pair of snub-nosed shears from my left back pocket and being careful not to cut the client simultaneously cut away her shorts and panties as she hopelessly pulled on the handcuffs and yelled into her tape gag.

Once she was naked I stood up and removed my clothes. Looking at her awesome body I got an enormous hard-on; I couldn't believe that I was being paid to fuck this goddess. She was shimmying as I undressed, but her position was hopeless. As soon as I was naked I got behind her, separated her legs, and then started fingering her pussy and clit. It wasn't long before she was completely wet and I wanted to immediately bury my hog in her pussy, but this job also called for a butt plug, which I hadn't used before - except in a demonstration on Cheryl (that almost caused me to cum in my pants).

I pulled the small butt plug and tiny tube of lube out of my pants lying next to me on the rug, lubed up the plug and slowly inserted it into her dark hole. At first she resisted, but apparently resisting hurt her, so she calmed down and I was able to slowly bury it without any indication of real pain on her part, but low groans emanating from her tape gag.

Once the butt plug was properly positioned I gently inserted my rock hard cock into her pussy. Her pussy was naturally snug, made even more so by the butt plug in her ass, so it was slow going to bury my girthy hog without causing her pain. It took about three or four minutes before I was completely ensconced in her hot tight chasm, but it was well worth the wait. It was a fact that I had never felt better in my life then when I started reciprocating my cock in her pussy - that is until I bent over and grabbed her ponderous phenomenal tits in my hands, gently thumbing the nipples as I moved my cock in and out.

I was afraid of blowing too early, but fortunately the combination of her ass, pussy and nipples all being stimulated at the same time quickly resulted in her spasming in orgasm as a long muffled scream left her lips. I continued pumping and manipulating one nipple while I grabbed the butt plug with my free hand and started slowly pistoning it in-and-out of her puckerhole. She had a second mammoth orgasm right on top of her first one, causing her vagina to clamp down on my cock. That resulted in me fire-hosing into her pussy the largest charge of fluid that I had ever unleashed in my life.

Both of us slowed down, heavily breathing and sweating, as our orgasms started to dissipate, only to be jarred by an orgasmic aftershock. Finally, after about ten minutes, the aftershocks had played themselves out and I extracted my cock from her pussy and fell to the floor beside her.

The client seemed as out of it as I was, both of us merely babbling, her sounds muffled by her gag. I finally stirred enough to realize that the butt plug was still in her ass. I gently removed it, resulting in even more sounds from her. I washed the plug off at the kitchen sink and then re-inserted it into my pants pocket.

The client's eyes were closed as she wobbled on her knees with little drops of sweat dribbling along her tits. I sucked the sweat beads off of both of her nipples, causing her eyes to open for a time. I was so overcome by the beauty of her mammaries that my mind was telling me to go beyond the plan that the client had agreed to. "Fuck her tits - you have to otherwise you'll regret not doing it the rest of your life," ran through my mind. There were no contrary or cautionary thoughts.