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Workplace Fun by Karen Ch. 05

At the beginning of Ch.02 I had mentioned my Scottish Blackening before my marriage with boot polish under finger and toe nails and disgusting stuff poured over me and how after the leaving gunging in Ch. 01 I realised I had a gunging fetish.

Despite the kinky goings on in Ch. 03, where I had enjoyed a beating. I still had a secret desire to be messed up again, but in front of an audience.

But how?

Maureen, our boss, did work for a charity and I had heard that just before I had arrived on the job she had arranged a head shaving fund raiser in a local pub. That would explain why so many of the workforce had short hair.

That could be humiliating and a substitute for gunging.

However, Maureen thought it was too soon to repeat the hair cut experience.

Then I asked who owned the field behind the garage. It was surrounded by high hedges and very private and not at present being cultivated.

It was owned by the farmer who knew the female mechanic and had provided the slurry used on Louise when she left. (Ch.01)

An Idea started to form. An adult charity evening in this secluded area.

Various ideas were passed about amongst us and here is the outcome of our discussions.

Tickets for the event would be sold in the pub Maureen had used for the head shaving fund raiser. (and jelly wrestling the year before) and on the evening of the event the whole village seemed to have turned out, all the younger people managing to find sitters for their children.

First up was a pit that the farmer had dug for us and filled with oil, mud and goodness knows what the farmer had found to add.

Maureen announced that she and her husband would donate £50 to her charity every time any one from the audience would wrestle in the pit with one of the male mechanics who had volunteered to get things going and were naked and sporting large cocks.

I was up for that but was beaten to first place by of all people the Vicar's wife whose husband had turned up this time as they were trying to get together again. Heard from sources that initially he had been horrified by his wife's kinky side but after a period of bachelorhood and watching porn wanted to get back into the real world and enjoying the pleasures his wife had to offer. She wasted no time in getting naked and getting into the pit from which she emerged almost unrecognisable and very smelly having lost every round and been several times totally immersed in the horrible contents of the pit.

Next I was again beaten to the chance to take part by a man who took on the next mechanic. Each bout lasted a good ten minutes so after the second fight Maureen, always a good judge of when her audience were getting bored with the same thing, and owing £100, announced time for the pillory.

She drew names from a hat and mine came up. She later explained that she cheated as she thought I would enjoy experience. How right she was.

I was led to the pillory wearing only my short summer dress, naked beneath as I had hoped it would be quickly discarded when wrestling with the mechanics.

After my head and hands were securely restrained in the pillory the audience of neighbours and other village people were invited to pay for various stuff to be thrown or forced against my face. It started with a modest £ 2 for custard pies but as the price went up the stuff used became more awful. Used engine oil, of which we had an abundance at the garage, fetched a good price and several buckets were poured all over me. Difficult to know what was worse, the old oil or what the farmer's animals had supplied and the buckets of rotting eggs and milk and baked beans not to mention the tubs of old paint some hade brought. Luckily only water soluble paint. The nastiest was from my 'friends' in the office who used printer ink which took days to get off.

Then our kinky stockroom lady, Angela, was heard to shout "That dress is getting in a terrible mess. Lets get it off." Hands, whose I know not, started to rip off my dress. Lots of people, perhaps all, had taken a good bit of drink and were very horny and the dress was soon torn to shreds. It was already ruined anyway. Then things took a knew twist. Money was offered to fuck me. £250 for my pussy, £500 for my arse. I had never had anal before but Angela who must have known this was to happen, had brought lubricant.

My initial reaction was terror but luckily the first gentleman, or in this village could have been a lady with a strap on was gentle and as the next hour passed I got used to it and started to wonder how I could arrange double penetration, not easy to manage trapped in a pillory. Some of course preferred pussy. Also a box was found for men to stand with their cocks at the level of my mouth and paying the same price as pussy. Don't know how much cum I swallowed that day but it was a lot including some from the Vicar himself encouraged by his wife still messed up even after a hosing down by cold water.

Who put up first money for my first anal fucking?

For sometime nobody would say. I ,did since that night, at times start to have anal with my husband who confessed to having had a mega turn on seeing me fucked that way in the pillory. What he did not say was he had always wanted me that way but had not known how to bring the subject up. It was Maureen after a boozy girls lunch that told me it was my husband who had put the money for charity to have my arse fucked by six men and two ladies with strap ons. The female lady mechanic had been I learned one of them with a strap on.

Eventually hubby confessed he had provided the first money to have a cock in my arse. Now if you have read the preceding chapters you may remember me going on the internet to order a whip. I made good use of it after that confession.

But we have diverged from this mysterious seven up club so must go and must now start on that story.

Oh! Just thought you may wonder about the antics of the Vicar and his wife how he kept his job. Possibly because of our kinky villagers he had a bigger turn out on Sunday than any other Vicar in the county.
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