GRAVEYARD SHIFT AT THE PAIN FACTORY
by SAL459@AOL.COM



Rev. 1.1

Copyright SAL459@AOL.COM

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I swiveled back in my chair and glanced off through the window. I had not been
expecting the phone call I had just received. When I first started working as
General Manager for Stark Enterprises the sharks were swimming in a sea of red
ink. A single day didn't go by when there was some bad news about the plant. I
took the job partly as a challenge, partly because of the money, and party
because it was an opportunity to return to my hometown. But truth be said, I
didn't really have a good reason to be anywhere in particular.

My first order of business had been to stop the financial hemorrhage. I
couldn't believe how popular that made me, bomb threats, death threats, and
even union threats. What had these guys been thinking? That the corporation
would continue to carry them when they had lost money for the last three years
in a row? I stopped going to my old hangouts after I got into more than one
argument with an old high school buddy that I hadn't even seen for years.

But finally things had started to turn around. We had managed to slash costs
without castrating the company. Our sales were increasing and we were hiring
additional staff. Even the local chamber of commerce had called to ask if I
could give a speech at their next luncheon. I had forgotten what exactly they
wanted me to talk about, but it was something along the lines of "hometown boy
saves largest employer in small town". I had thought that was my cue to relax.
Enjoy the fruits of my labors. Get my picture in the newspapers. Be greeted by
name at the local restaurants. After all that hard work I would not have
minded coasting for a while. Now this short phone call early in the morning
had turned everything upside down. The president of the company had called to
let me know that I was being promoted to VP and that I would be transferred to
corporate. I tried my best to sound thankful and enthusiastic. It had taken me
more than two years of hard work to create my comfort zone and he had squashed
it like some bug under his shoe, too small to even notice.

"Sharon!" I yelled through the door to my secretary. She hated it when I
yelled instead of using the intercom, but I felt like yanking her chain. I
needed some action to break out of my self-misery for the lost tranquility.
"Get a hold of Debbie and have her come over right away, I need to talk to
her." I made a special effort to decipher her face and wondered if she knew
what that phone call had been all about. Secretaries always have this way of
knowing things before everybody else.

I started to think about all the things that had been set in motion. After
what seemed like forever to me, Debbie finally showed up. "Come in. Sit down.
I have to talk to you about something I just learned."

I went over in my mind one last time how to approach the conversation.
"Debbie", I said, "I just got a phone call from Al. It seems they are
promoting me and I'll be leaving for corporate".

"Congratulations! That's great news!" Debbie seemed genuinely happy for me.

"The reason I called you over is I want to start the process for finding my
replacement. It seems to me that there are two natural candidates for my
position, you and Amanda".

All of a sudden her expression changed completely. She looked in pain, like
somebody had just scrambled her innards.

Debbie was my Manufacturing Director. I had identified her early and took a
gamble on promoting her into a position of authority. Although it certainly
had not been smooth sailing all the way, my gamble had paid off and she had
developed into one of my key staff members. However, I had recently become
quite concerned because her relationship with Amanda, my Quality Director, had
been deteriorating rapidly. Debbie had been publicly accusing Amanda of having
her inspectors reject units that were actually good so she would miss the
schedule and ship the orders late. Amanda, on the other hand, didn't miss an
opportunity to point out the slightest mistake made by Debbie's people. I had
made a note on my agenda to take them both off-site to broach the issue, but
now I would have to expedite the process.

"John, you can't be serious", Debbie said. I could tell she was doing
everything possible to maintain her composure. "I have been here much longer
than Amanda; I started working for this company right after I finished my
Ph.D. from MIT. I have a lot more responsibility than she does. All she
manages is a bunch of inspectors, and all they do is criticize all day long.
I've fought very hard to be where I am and you know it. I think I deserve a
chance." I think she was a lot more worried about the prospect of suddenly
having Amanda become her boss than at not actually getting the General
Manager's slot.

"Do you mean that just rhetorically?" I asked nonchalantly.

She looked puzzled, "What do you mean?", she said.

"About the fighting, would you be willing to fight for this position?"

"Of course. I would do anything for it.", she said very confidently and matter
of factly. I wasn't sure she really understood what I was getting to. I got up
from my desk and walked around her to close the door to my office. I twisted
the knob as I pushed the door carefully into the frame, making sure it didn't
make any noise. I took a deep breath as I sank back into my chair. I hadn't
really planned it this way, but things were going so well . . . I had to
continue steering her in the right direction, but without making her bolt like
a scared bunny if I didn't approach the subject with the requisite finesse.
Slowly we got deeper and deeper into my proposal to have her fight Amanda for
the job. After we discussed the place and the attire I knew she was really
going to go through with it.

After Debbie left my office my mind was racing so fast I couldn't control it.
Was this really going to happen? Was she really going to fight Amanda to see
who would become the next General Manager? I still had one big hurdle ahead of
me. I also had to convince Amanda to fight. But at least this time I had a
very convincing argument on my side. If she didn't want to fight, I'd give the
promotion to Debbie. She had already demonstrated her character by agreeing to
the fight.

Surprisingly to me, Amanda didn't require a lot of convincing. I think the
relationship between them was a lot worse than anything I had fathomed. They
really and genuinely had come to hate each other.

I set up the match for that same night at midnight. Since it was Friday, the
plant would become very quiet as soon as the swing shift left. I couldn't wait
for the set time to arrive. The rest of the day went by in a blur of daydreams
during boring business meetings and conference calls. Was this really going to
happen? Would one of them back out at the last minute?

At 6 PM I left the office. As I drove out I swung by and checked that Debbie
and Amanda's cars were both gone. Would they come back at midnight as we had
agreed?

I went to dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town. I wouldn't have normally
gone to this place unaccompanied, but tonight was going to be special. In the
feast that was ensuing, this was the appetizer. I still had a few hours to
kill until midnight, so I drove to one of my favorite strip club on the
outskirts of town. I must have been totally dazed by now, because one of the
dancers that I had made friends with even asked me if there was anything
wrong. I laughed and told her that I was just a little overwhelmed by all the
upcoming events. By the time I snapped out of it I was actually late to make
it back to the plant.

I screeched the tires to keep my Corvette from slamming into the gate at the
entrance. I had forgotten the guards close it after working hours. Frank, an
old and tired man gave me a funny look but I just ignored him and drove
through as soon as I could squirm the car in as the gate continued to roll
open. I drove towards my reserved parking space so I wouldn't arouse any
further suspicion but then kept going around the building. I finally arrived
in front of a large adjacent building that we used as warehouse for heavy and
bulky material. Debbie and Amanda were already standing in front of the main
door and although I could not hear them inside the car I could tell they were
yelling and cursing at each other. I got out of the car as quickly as possible
thinking about how to prevent them from tearing into each other right in the
parking lot. Luckily my headlights had startled them and they just stopped and
completely froze. I deliberately stood very close to the magnetic card reader
so I could block them from seeing my trembling hands as I swiped my card to
gain access into the building. In the cold and still night air I heard the
clack of the door unlocking and I stepped in without looking back. It always
surprised me how eerie these building felt when there was no one in them. I
could hear my footsteps echo more than once as I walked down the hallway. I
also heard two more sets of footsteps and I knew they were following me
without saying a word. By the time we arrived at the place I had set up I was
out of breath, not because of exertion, but because of excitement. Without a
word, Debbie and Amanda each went into different isles to change.

I had picked this place carefully. Because no one in their right mind would
think about trying to steal this stuff, the guards didn't come by here during
their rounds and there were no security cameras. Taking advantage of a large
open area and the tall ceilings, I had created a sort of coliseum inside which
they could battle. It had taken some fancy fingerwork on the computer, but I
had used the system to order the material handlers to create this wonderful
structure that we were about to use. Two tiers of boxes on pallets were
stacked on each other creating walls about six feet high. These walls of boxes
on pallets went all around creating a closed square with an empty opening in
the middle of about ten feet by ten feet. I climbed up from the outside and
sat down on the ledge with my feet dangling on the inside.

Debbie was the first one to climb over and jump in. As she had told me she
would during the morning meeting in my office, she had outfitted herself in a
red strapless bra with matching red panties. I estimated Debbie to be in her
late 30s, perhaps 38. This was my guess, for about the only things that might
give away her age were some veins on the back of her hands and a few wrinkles
around her eyes. What I wasn't prepared for was how utterly fantastic she
looked devoid of clothes. At work she was required to wear a lab coat and now
I realized what a wonderful treasure it used to hide. She had long blonde hair
down to her waist and beautiful blue eyes. I was shocked at how muscular she
was. Her shoulders were wide and her torso tapered off sharply towards her
mid-section. You could see huge and clearly defined biceps bulging in her
arms. As she walked around her calves popped out and stretched her skin. Her
thighs were so firm they might as well have been made of cement. But perhaps
her most spectacular feature was her mid-section. Etched around her belly
button were the most fantastic abdominals I had ever seen. When did Debbie
find time to exercise? We had been working 10 to 12 hours every day all the
way back since I could remember. Debbie looked up at me and smiled. I gave her
a wink. As she put her hands on her hips and prounced around for my pleasure I
noticed her huge chest swaying. It must have been surgically enhanced. It was
just impossible for somebody that lean to be that big up top. Her red bra was
straining at the seams to keep it all in check. Seductively overflowing the
top edge of the bra I could see her slightly darker areolas forming a pair of
beautiful crescent moons. They must have been at least three inches in
diameter under the bra.

I had originally thought Amanda might have an advantage because she was in her
mid-twenties, but I was starting to have some serious doubts about that
theory.

As I was beginning to wonder if Debbie could hear my heart pounding down where
she was, Amanda jumped in with her. Amanda was wearing an old cut-off T-shirt
and very small black spandex shorts. She has very black hair simply cut along
her forehead about an inch above her eyebrows and on the back going straight
down to just below her shoulder blades and then curling out. Her arctic white
skin makes a wonderful contrast with her straight black hair. Amanda's chest
is even bigger than Debbie's and looks natural and soft, but firm. Her T-shirt
is cut so high that the bottoms of her breasts show as she breathes with the
excitement of the adrenaline flowing through her system. Both her nipples
force themselves through the thin white fabric of her T-shirt like the
centerpole holding up a circus tent. Her waist is cinched right at the height
of her belly button and flares into large and sensuous hips. Her milky white
thighs and legs are meaty but not fat.

Amanda is too pumped up to notice me and starts to do some sort of stretching
routine. As she bends at the waist to touch the tip of her foot with the
opposing hand I get a glimpse of one of her nipples underneath the T-shirt. It
is very small and perky, like the eraser on a new pencil. From my distance it
almost gets lost in the expanse of that huge white globe.

Not to be outdone, Debbie drops down on the floor and starts to do push-ups. I
think she's trying to psyche out Amanda. I had never seen such a tight pair of
buns in my life. Amanda ignores her and Debbie continues doing push ups, she
must have done more than twenty by now. This is my first realization that I
have a steel-shaft hard-on inside my pants.

I clear my throat and try to speak an octave lower than I normally do, "Ok.
Ok. Enough warming up. Let's get down to business!". I clap my hands for
special effect.

Amanda and Debbie start circling each other with bare feet on the cold cement
floor of the warehouse. For the first time I realized how much bigger Debbie
was compared to Amanda. I had never though of Amanda as a small lady. She must
have been 5'6" or 5'7 and always wore very high heels at the office. But at
5'11" without shoes, Debbie towered over her as they continued to circle each
other.

Suddenly Debbie lunges at Amanda. She locks her arms around her and tackles
her into one of the makeshift walls. Amanda screams out in pain, I think her
back must have been slammed into some of the boxes. In spite of her pain,
Amanda manages to bring up her knee forcefully hitting Debbie squarely in her
crotch. Debbie stays still and her eyes bulge out but she does not release her
hold. Amanda sinks both hands deep into Debbie's blonde scalp and then twirls
around, holding Debbie by the hair. Debbie grabs Amanda's wrists and tries to
pull her hands out of her hair without success; Amanda's fingers are too
intertwined in the blonde's thick hair. They move towards the center in
gyrating clockwork. They pick up speed like a pair of figure skaters doing
their pirouettes, Amanda rotating in the center and holding Debbie tightly by
the hair who is flying around in circles trying to stay on her feet. After
about three full revolutions the magical counter-balance is lost. Debbie goes
flying one way and lands on her butt. Amanda goes stumbling backwards the
other way and again slams into the boxes and pallets; although she is shaken
and wobbly she manages to stay standing up.

Debbie gets up quickly, but I can tell she is dizzy. She leans off to the side
and takes a few short sidesteps to keep from falling back down.

Amanda is breathing hard with her mouth completely open sucking in as much air
as possible. Her chest is heaving heavily up and down. Her cut-off T-shirt is
soaking wet around the neck and cleavage area. I can also see sweat is
starting to form on Debbie's forehead and the small of her back.

They circle each other, Debbie desperately trying to regain her balance while
Amanda tries to regain her wind. After a few seconds of rest and eyeing each
other, Debbie puts up her bare hands and squares off in a boxing stance.
Amanda doesn't waste time and charges at Debbie crouched low. Amanda starts
pummeling away at Debbie's mid-section. She's coming in flat-footed, headfirst
and very determined. Debbie stays on her tiptoes, dancing away from Amanda's
unrelenting charge as they run a big circle all around the inner perimeter of
their enclosure. Amanda's rights and lefts are coming in incredibly strong and
fast. Her fists sound like a mallet hitting a hard piece of meat. Debbie's
abdominals are rock solid and I'm not sure if Amanda is getting through to
cause her any real pain. As the battle rages in full force, Debbie takes her
time and determinately works over Amanda's face as best she can. Because
Amanda is crouched low and shorter than Debbie, a lot of Debbie's punches are
hitting on Amanda's arms and shoulders, but a few are connecting somewhere on
her face or head. Welts and bruises start becoming visible on Amanda's
beautiful pale face. As far away as I am I can even see that she has gotten a
swollen lip. After about two full minutes of this all out war I can tell
Amanda is getting tired. Her punches are not coming in as hard and a lot less
frequently. I don't know if Debbie noticed it too, but she managed to hit
Amanda with a powerful closed fist right on the temple. The brunette dropped
off to the side like a sack of potatoes and sprawled all over the floor. For
some reason Debbie didn't press her advantage to finish off Amanda. Instead
she stepped back and just watched her intently. Was this the end of it, I
wondered?

By now they were both completely soaked in sweat. Debbie stood tall and proud
glistening under the harsh lights of the warehouse. Her beautiful blonde hair
that had originally flowed was now wet and heavy sticking to her back. I could
see large beads of sweat dripping down her neck and running in-between her
huge tits. They ran down her tight stomach rollercoasting over her six-pack as
she breathed hard. Some of them even even got lost inside her belly button.

Amanda was dazed, but somehow managed to get herself on all fours. The outline
of her gorgeous figure was left marked in sweat where she had fallen on the
floor. Without even bothering to stand up she bolted from her knees straight
at Debbie. Debbie was certainly caught by surprise because she lost her
balance and allowed herself to be pushed by Amanda all the way back into the
wall of boxes and pallets. Debbie let out an agonizing shriek; the corner of a
wooden pallet must have stabbed her in the back. Her face was pure agony. In
the end, they were both still standing. Amanda's bruised face was resting over
Debbie's heaving bosom and Debbie's thick arms were wrapped limp over the
brunette's shoulders. The tall blonde was immobilized because of the pain in
her back. Amanda looked so tired I think she might have just fallen face first
if she was not being held up by Debbie and the wall. For someone unaware of
the savage battle that had preceded they could have been gently caressing each
other.

Although Amanda was very weak by now, she restarted the hostilities by clawing
her nails into Debbie's breast. The blonde grimaced and let out another shriek
of pain. This only delighted the brunette and she dug her nails in even
deeper. I could see Debbie's powerful legs start to quiver. In spite of the
pain, Debbie managed to use her left hand to grab a handful of Amanda's black
hair. I could see her arm muscles bulging as she tried to pull Amanda away
from her by the hair. At last the muscular blonde was able to generate enough
space between them that she could land an explosive right directly into
Amanda's belly button. The brunette immediately released her, grabbed her
belly with both hands and completely doubled over.

This time the blonde didn't waste any time. She followed up by sending another
powerful closed fist punch right into the small of Amanda's back. Amanda fell
forward. First her knees hit the ground in unison making the ugliest thud on
the cement floor I have ever heard and then she collapsed face down, those
humongous white globes squished under her own weight.

"Ok, Deb. That's it. You win!" I was sweaty and shivering myself. I had such a
huge hard-on it hurt just to think about it.

She looked up at me through sweaty and teary eyes. Her golden hair stuck to
her forehead and muscular shoulders by sweat. "No way John!" She yelled back.
"You said she had to submit, and I plan to make her submit. Now's when the fun
starts".

TO BE CONTINUED . . .