Monday, July 6, 2015

Community Service (story five--the ending)

Hello All:
I thought I would share with you a quick photo that I took of a Chinese lantern that I had launched from our front yard. Look for the tiny dot at the center of the photo. This is what it looks like high up in the air. It kind of looks like a UFO, doesn't it?
So how did my weekend celebration go? Well, I have fireworks arm.
"What is fireworks arm?"--you might ask?
Fireworks arm is a benign condition that one receives--particularly during the Fourth of July holiday--upon repeatedly throwing lit fireworks. The following morning it is noticed that certain muscles belonging to the "throwing arm" are now sore.
Do you have this, too? If so, don't worry. Fireworks arm goes away in a day or so.
Today's featured writing is the ending to our five-part short story, Community Service. As promised, I was sure to make the ending exciting. If you haven't done so already, be sure to scroll down to earlier posts to ready stories 1 through 4.
Community Service (story five--the ending)
The frightening moment was quickly ended with Rich's cell phone ringing.
"Oh, it's the boss." he informed. "Hang on; I've got to answer this." Although he certainly shouldn't have been talking on the cell phone while driving, Rich pressed the answer button and greeted, "Hello... Yeah... Yeah..." Rich sighed, "Right now…? You mean as soon as we reach the next job and get everyone started...? And he's got no one else that can do this for him...? No, it's not a problem... Tell him I'll be there in about twenty minutes or so... Alright... Bye..."
As soon as Rich ended the call, he slammed his fist on the steering wheel. "Son of a bitch!" He was not happy. "I do not want to deal with this today!"
"What?" inquired Beth. She was curious as to what instructions Joe had given Rich that would have made him so irate.
"It's a long story." answered Rich. "You see; once upon a time, Joe teamed up with another guy named Bill. But they ended up going their separate ways. They still get along, and they sometimes work deals to take on large jobs together. This usually means that I or one of the other guys for Square Deal Landscaping has to report over to another work site to help Bill."
"I see..." commented Beth.
Rich continued. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but Bill is actually gay. Well, people just joke about him possibly being gay; but I firmly believe that he really is. Whenever I work alone with him, he's got this bad habit of getting close to me and touching me. He really puts the moves on me, you know? I've asked him to stop, but he says he's only joking with me."
As Rich explained this, Beth couldn't help but smile to herself. What did Rich think he had been doing with her and Tricia throughout the morning? What made him think that they appreciated it? Well now Rich was going to get a taste of his own medicine. Unfortunately, he did not have the psychological mechanisms to draw this parallel, and finally understand. Surely, Rich would only endure whatever time he had to spend with Bill, and never think about what he had done to Beth and Tricia. Rich was too selfish to consider this.
"You would think that if he pissed me off every time I worked with him that I could just kick his ass and teach him a lesson." Rich continued. "But Bill is a weight lifter. He's really strong and built like a brick shit house. One time I tried shoving him to tell him to knock it off. He just wrestled with me and pinned me on my back. Then he pretended to joke with me by sticking the crotch of his pants in my face while telling me to suck it. I wanted to murder him at that moment. But he was just like, "Oh, come on! Can't we have a little fun? I think you take things too seriously. I told Joe about it, but he pretty much says the same thing."
Rich slammed both fists on the steering wheel a second time. "Son of a fuckin' bitch! What did I do to deserve this?"
Just then, the breathalyzer sounded an alert which required Rich to supply a sample of his breath. He reached for the mouthpiece and blew in.
"Pass!" exclaimed Rich. "At least one thing is going right today.
With Rich gone for the greater part of the afternoon, things were actually quiet and peaceful for Beth and Tricia. Don simply did his work with a cigarette dangling from his mouth and having sips of mystery booze in between. As for John, he was actually a gentleman—extending kindness and courtesy to both girls throughout the afternoon. For that matter, Beth chose not to find an opportunity to hide and use her cell phone to call out for help. Maybe they had seen the last of Rich and could finish their eight hours of community service in peace.
But then around 4:45 in the afternoon—already two hours past the required eight hours—Don announced in a half-slurred, drunken voice, "I guess you girls need to come to Edgewater with us and finish the day."
"What???" complained Tricia. "We did our eight hours. We shouldn't have to do anything else. I want to go home! I'm done!"
"Just let 'em go." persuaded John to Don.
"I totally agree with you all..." answered Don with a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his mouth—ashes waiting to fall on the ground. One could tell that Don was now drunk. He had difficulty standing upright. "I'm not the one making this decision. It's Joe, the owner. He says he's not signing off on your community service until you finish up the day at Edgewater."
"It's easy work." reassured John to both girls. He sensed how irate they had become. "I'm really sorry that you had to experience all of this today. And I'm sorry the boss isn't being fair with you."
"Edgewater is condo complex that has a small, man-made beach for kids to play at near the pool." explained Don. "All you need to do is hang out over there and act like you are pulling weeds. John and I will mow the lawns and bag the grass. I'm sorry... Just like John said, it sucks you have to put up with this shit today. Fair enough?"
"Fine!" agreed Tricia in an irate voice.
"Yeah, that's fine." added Beth in a disappointed voice.
Now you probably wonder how four people managed to drive from job to job in the cab of one pickup truck throughout the afternoon. Well, let's just say that it was a tight squeeze! John drove with Beth pressed up tightly against her side. Tricia sat wedged between Beth and Don, who sat in the passenger seat with cigarette dangling from his mouth. It was hot and sweaty! The cigarette smoke made it impossible for everyone else to refresh after each job. Tricia could not wait for her day of hell to finally end.
At about quarter to six—going on eleven hours of community service for the day—Beth and Tricia stood leaned over on the small, manmade beach of Edgewater while pulling up weeds. As John promised, both he and Don mowed the property. John walked behind the wide hydraulic-powered mower. Don drove the riding tractor mower.
"This sucks!" complained Tricia.
"I know..." agreed Beth. "They have no right to keep us here. But we are almost done. And hopefully we don't have to see Rich anymore."
Unfortunately, Beth spoke too soon. Just as she had said that, both girls spotted the second truck with trailer belonging to Square Deal Landscaping pull into the site. It was Rich who hopped out of the cab as soon as he parked. From a distance, one could see invisible flames of anger and rage dance around his body. The sunglasses nearly melted off his face as his eyes equally burned to match the rage. He picked up a nearby bucket that was half filled with grass clippings and whipped it at the side of the trailer. Clippings fell out, of course.
Rich opened the side door of the trailer and reached for a gas-powered blower. Rather than use it as a landscaping tool, he repeatedly beat the side of the truck with it.
Then he looked over to the girls who cautiously observed from a distance, "Tricia!" he shouted.
"Oh jeez..." she commented before answering. "What???"
"Get your ass over here and pick up all of this shit, now!"
Tricia wanted to point out that it wasn't she who dumped the bucket. But the day was almost over. She felt it was best to cooperate. "Okay..." she called out while walking towards the truck.
But then Rich pulled a shovel out from the trailer and began to violently beat the half-emptied bucket of grass with it. He was looking for anything to punish at the moment; release the anger and frustration of being harassed by Bill throughout the afternoon.
Tricia momentarily glanced behind her at Beth with a terribly worried look. "I don't know if I want to go over there..."
"I SAID, NOW!" shouted Rich.
"I'll come with and help you." promised Beth as she ran over to Tricia.
Both girls nervously approached the area where Rich continued to beat the company trailer and landscaping equipment with shovels, brooms—anything he could get his hands on. There was just no end to the fury inside of Rich.
John must have seen Rich's display and quickly rushed over. For he was there by the time Tricia and Beth reached the trailer. "Was he doing it again?" he asked.
"Hell, yeah he was doing it! What the hell do you think?"
Tricia had no idea what Rich might have been talking about. Whatever it was, it caused Rich to become unbelievably angry.
"I'm sick of that fucker touching me! That fuckin' homo! And Joe won't listen to me!" Rich whipped a toolbox into the parking lot. Wrenches, screwdrivers and pliers flung about.
While this happened, Don continued to drive the tractor and mow the several acres of lawn that surrounded Edgewater Properties. He was clearly drunk, and had no business operating a motorized vehicle—especially the kind that is used for landscaping with multiple blades and weighing hundreds of pounds. Don was seeing double and struggled to maintain straight lines.
"Clean this fuckin' shit up!" Rich ordered to both girls who nervously watched the violent display. "I'm not signing off on your community service hours for today. You two bitches are too fucked up in the head for the real world. You're coming back tomorrow so I can finish you!"
John came to the girls' defense. "Easy, Rich! Don't take your problems out them. They didn't do anything wrong."
This sent Rich into another fit of rage as he nearly flew over to John. "Don't you ever fuckin' tell me..."
Just then, a loud crunch and mechanical rattling could be heard from the distance. It came from the area where Don was mowing. It was loud and frightening enough to distract Rich to look over and see what it was. He could see in the distance at the bottom of a land burm that Don lay trapped underneath the tractor mower which had rolled over on its side. The burm was a several foot slope with a significant angle; dangerous to mow with a tractor if not paying attention.
"Ughhh!" Don called out. "Help! I can't move!"
Rich, John, Beth and Tricia all ran with lightning speed to where Don called out for help. Once there, the four of them added enough combined strength to pull the tractor back upright and push it out of the way.
Don struggled to pull himself up. "I think I need help." he cried.
Rich held out his hand and tried to assist Don by pulling him up. But Don seemed to lack the necessary strength in his legs. He simply fell back on the ground when trying to stand up.
"I think I broke my leg." cried Don. "I'm too drunk to feel anything right now, but I'm pretty sure I broke something."
"You're not supposed to be drinking while operating this equipment." reminded Rich. "That can be another DUI on your record. And you'll probably lose your job if Joe finds out."
Don offered the excuse, "I guess I didn't realize that I was drunk..."
Rich sighed and then beat his own thighs with his fists—another temper tantrum. "Son of a bitch!" he yelled. "What are we gonna to do?"
"Well we better call the paramedics." advised Tricia. "He's hurt pretty badly."
Suddenly, a dark light bulb illuminated in Rich's head which offered a demented solution. "You know... I'm thinking you did all of this." he to Tricia.
"Excuse me?" asked Tricia in a challenging tone of voice.
"That's right! You did all of this!" repeated Rich. "You see, you owe me a favor for putting up with all your shit today. So what you're gonna do is tell the paramedics and cops that you had been driving this tractor mower on the burm, and rolled it. Somehow you escaped, but the tractor rolled far enough to crush Don's leg."
"NO!" sharply replied Tricia. "I am not lying and covering up what happened here, today. We're not even supposed to be here right now. Our eight hours were completed a few hours ago. This is your problem. He wasn't supposed to be driving the tractor while intoxicated."
Rich shook his head and threw his hands up in the air. "Fine! Fine and dandy!" He stormed over to the tractor mower and sat into it. "Fine and fuckin' dandy!" He turned the key which, amazingly, started the engine right away. With zero turning radius; he quickly made a complete 180, and charged towards Tricia.
Now this particular brand of tractor mower was a serious agricultural machine—state of the art technology. It was intended to be used by landscaping crews that might have had contracts to mow entire neighborhoods of homes, or possibly acres of industrial park land. Chances are that the rider would have a need to drive on residential streets or even small highways. For that matter, the engine of this particular tractor mower was capable of reaching speeds of over twenty miles per hour!
Tricia screamed in terror and ran out of the way. "You crazy asshole!"
With zero turn radius, Rich whipped the machine around and faced Tricia with his eyes of fury that burned through his sunglasses. The he charged after Tricia, again.
Tricia screamed and ran off. She realized that Rich was serious in whatever demented plan that he had. But she had no idea as to how much power and speed that the mower possessed.
Tricia was smart. Rich realized this while chasing her at speeds nearing twenty miles per hour. Of course it wasn't possible for her to outrun the tractor. But Tricia quickly learned that it was only necessary to suddenly stop and turn for the opposite direction. This made it necessary for Rich to momentarily offset the hydraulic steering and zip around before charging after her. And when finally caught up, she would quickly run in the opposite direction which made it necessary for Rich to offset the steering and resume charging.
It would only be a matter of time before Tricia grew tired. Rich knew this. Eventually she would make a mistake; maybe underestimate a turn or even trip and fall. Then she would get what was coming to her. You see; Tricia was so young without any scars received from the hard life, or those sometimes cruel and unfair lessons that we reluctantly receive. She had it too good as far as Rich was concerned. Today would be the day that she earned some scars and some hard, unfair lessons. Rich would run her over and allow the blades to chop off a leg or two. Then it could be explained to police and paramedics that Tricia had been driving the tractor mower which rolled over on the land burm, chopped off her leg(s) and ultimately injured Don.
“But what sort of plan is that?”—you might ask?
“It doesn't make sense!”
“The police and paramedics wouldn't believe it!”
“Witnesses would report what really happened!”
Upon thinking these things, one needs to consider as to just what sort of man Rich is. Do you seriously think the man is half intelligent? Do you seriously think that he is of sound mind?
No; rather, Rich is a demented idealist and quite stupid. His brain is clearly damaged from the years of heavy drinking. Then there are his personality and behavioral disorders.
Rich continued to chase after terrified Tricia with full intention of chopping off her legs. But she was actually winning in the scrimmage by drawing closer and closer to the edge of the lawn; aiming to make it to the parking lot—possibly into one of the trucks to drive away. At one point, Rich spotted the gas-powered weed trimmer that John had apparently left on the ground before rushing over to watch Rich throw his tantrum. (This would have been before Don rolled the tractor mower). Rich quickly scooped up the trimmer and actually pulled the start cord while his foot remained on the tractor accelerator. The trimmer engine roared, and was now a high-tech scythe to be wielded by the landscaping grim reaper. He was monster on tractor wheels that continued to viciously chase after screaming Tricia. And Rich was sure to use the roaring gas trimmer as a weapon to cut Tricia with any time she was close.
After some five minutes of this scrimmage, Tricia made it to the pavement—home free in her belief. But then to her disbelief, Rich merely bumped over the curb that separated lawn from parking lot; flew some three feet above ground and then slammed onto the pavement—sparks momentarily flying upon impact. The pursuit resumed in the parking lot. Tricia actually tried to make it to one of the trucks, but Rich was too fast on the tractor. Even still, would locking herself into one of the trucks only trap Tricia?
"Somebody help me! Please, somebody help me!" Tricia screamed and cried. She realized that the pavement helped the tractor roll faster as there were no bumps and hills on the ground. Because of this, Tricia made her way back onto another area of lawn which was separated by parking curb.
The curb might have been about six inches high. But Rich didn't care. He charged towards the lawn at open throttle and was abruptly halted with the front tires hitting the curb. The action flipped the tractor upside-down which ultimately set Rich's back in an uncompromised position and then broken by hundreds of pounds of machinery! It would be many months—maybe a few years—before Rich could stand on both feet and walk.
Seconds later, Beth and John reached the accident. You see, they had been trying to chase down and stop Rich all along. It was only then that terrified Tricia realized this.
Everything, thereafter, seemingly happened at the blink of an eye. Police, paramedics and fire trucks raced into the parking lot with sirens screaming. Residents of Edgewater Properties poured out of the condo buildings to observe the disaster and commotion. And then a black pick-up truck with the Square Deal Landscaping logo whizzed in.
An angry man emerged from the pickup truck. It was Joe. "What the hell is going on here?" he demanded.
As paramedics rushed over to treat drunken Don with broken leg and psychotic Rich with broken back, a man who lived in one of the condo units quickly answered Joe's question.
"You want to know what happened? I'll tell you! First of all, I don't appreciate this new gig of half naked girls doing your landscaping. I’ve got kids who I don’t want seeing that shit. What is this? Hooter's Landscaping? Then I see that clown over there get out of one of the trucks. He started throwing buckets of grass all over the place and was beating thing with shovels and rakes. Oh, and that idiot over there was driving the tractor all drunk. He can't even make a straight line while mowing. And then to wrap up the performance, we all got to watch that maniac over there chase one of your half-naked girls all over the property in a tractor. He ended up crashing into the curb and flipped the tractor. I'm definitely going to report this to property management and urge that your contract isn't renewed."
By now, both Tricia and Beth stood nearby with their ripped open t-shirts. They were dirty, sweaty, and looked to have just finished a marathon.
"I want to go home! Now!" Tricia demanded. "Take me back to my car!"
Calmly Joe answered, "Look, all I ever ask is that my workers try their best. Just try your best. Okay? Why don't you finish pulling weeds at the manmade beach over there, and we'll call it a day."

The end...

Friday, July 3, 2015

Community Service (part four)

Hello All:
The holiday weekend is upon us in America!—the birthday of our great country, Independence Day. Many of us have the day off work and already celebrating (or at least preparing for tomorrow’s party)
Have you gotten your fireworks? Be sure to check out a writing I did a couple years ago: Choosing the RightFireworks for your Family Fourth of July Celebration.
While you’re at it, be sure to read about firework withdrawal. You see, you will be lighting all those fireworks over the holiday and suddenly run out! How will you cope without being able to satisfy your addiction? Be sure to read Firework Withdrawal.
Today’s featured writing is another installment of what was supposed to be a mere short story about two girls who must spend a day at a landscaping company to fulfill their required hours of community service to graduate. Throughout this long story, we are learning some shocking behavior from the crew chief of the landscaping company, Rich. He’s a recovering alcoholic with all sorts of behavioral problems. He can’t seem to keep his hands off these girls.
Let’s enjoy another installment of Community Service.
Have a great weekend! Happy Fourth of July to those celebrating in America! Play safely with your fireworks! Please do not drink and drive!
Community Service (part four)
The rest of the morning was uneventful as far as harassment and assaults were concerned. Both Beth and Tricia guided large, hydraulic-powered mowers up and down people's lawns. It was a degrading experience for both girls. You see, people would slow down in their cars and gawk at the sight of girls in ripped apart shirts with bras, cleavage and bellies exposed.
Rich supervised the dumping of grass clippings into buckets. He stared in delight as Beth would walk by with large breasts and cleavage bouncing around. And how he couldn't wait for another moment of play with Tricia's pointy and easily aroused nipples!
Then at 11:30, Rich announced to the crew while packing up the trailers, "Lunch time! Looking at today’s route, I can see we have two options. It's your choice: either Whitey's or Golf-n-Dogs."
Both girls shrugged their shoulders.
Not even noon and already half-drunk, Don reminded Rich of a job that was located a few towns away. "We might want to stop at Golf-n-Dogs. It'll be on the way."
"Good point, Don!" agreed Rich. It was amazing that he actually took someone's suggestion for a change.
"I bet these girls would really like a foot-long hot dog!" declared Rich with a perverted smile on his face.
As he made this tasteless joke, everyone began loading into their designated vehicles. It was then that Beth had a chance to secretly whisper to Tricia. "I have a phone on me. I'm trying to find an opportunity to call or text someone. But it won't be for a while. Rich just watches us like a hawk, you know?"
"Okay..." whispered Tricia before walking away. Finally there was hope for Tricia to escape.
Now there was a small detail about lunchtime that Rich hadn't considered. You see; Tricia is a vegetarian. She certainly wouldn't eat foot-long hot dogs or any meals that include meat. Fortunately for her, Golf-n-Dogs offered a jumbo Caesar salad. She now sat outside on the patio of the restaurant and nervously ate this with Don and Rich who scarffed down juicy burgers with fries and cokes.
Beth walked out of the restaurant, next. She sat down and unwrapped an Italian beef sandwich. It was then that Rich emerged with his noteworthy perverted smile on his face.
"Compliments of Square Deal Landscaping!" he announced while carrying two foot-long hot dogs in open containers along with his lunch. "Here, Beth!" he called out.
Beth really didn't want to eat a hot dog at that moment, but she was trying her best to be nice. She smiled, "Thank you!"
"Here, let's make the moment last!" declared Rich. "Let's take a picture of you posing with the foot-long hot dog. Come-on, stand up!"
Beth did as ordered and held the hot dog up while posing.
"Bring it closer to your chest so we can see it better in the photo." continued to order Rich.
Reluctantly, Beth did this.
"Now bounce up and down like you are really excited to see that foot-long hot dog!"
Funny thing: when one is trapped in a situation; repeatedly harassed and assaulted; it soon becomes natural just to cooperate with degrading orders. Beth knew, exactly, what perverted Rich wanted. To him the hot dog represented a large penis. He wanted to see her half-exposed breasts bounce up and down with the hot dog held close. And this is what Beth did. She even smiled and appeared excited.
"Good!" exclaimed Rich while taking his photo. Then he spoke to Tricia, "How about you? You gonna eat that foot-long hot dog?"
"I'm a vegetarian?" answered Tricia.
"A vegetarian?" asked Rich. "What the hell are you talking about? Why are you a vegetarian?"
"I'm a vegetarian." repeated Tricia. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to be able to eat that hot dog. Thank you, though."
Rich was not happy. Like many times before, one could see his eyes of fury and rage burn through his dark sunglasses. "You mean you can't just make an exception to your little rule and eat my hot dog. I'm trying to be nice, you know?"
Tricia looked up while munching away on her Caesar salad. She was doing everything in her power to remain calm and collected. Throughout the morning she had been repeatedly degraded, harassed and sexually assaulted; all the while waiting patiently for Beth to finally use her phone to call for help. Tricia truly wondered what she had done wrong to deserve all of this. The school handed her eight hours of remaining community service over to psychotic sexual predator who held her as a prisoner, and promised not to allow her to graduate high school unless she allowed the mistreatment. "I'm sorry..." she answered. "I'm a vegetarian. I won't eat it."
"Well fuck you, then!" shouted Rich while whipping the open container of foot-long hot dog at Tricia. Ketchup and mustard landed on her face and hair.
Although in utter disbelief at what just happened; Beth, Don and John nervously ate in silenced for they did not want to receive abuse from Rich that afternoon.
"You know...!" shouted Tricia. "You're an asshole!" She got up from the table and threw the remains of her salad in the garbage. After which she spent the rest of lunchtime in the bathroom, crying and cleaning herself up.
The crew of Square Deal Landscaping left the parking lot of Golf-n-Dogs about quarter to one o'clock that afternoon. Beth rode in the passenger seat of Rich's truck. He lit up a cigarette after blowing into the breathalyzer and then declared, "Fuckin' sophisticated bitch; comes to work in an elegant, pink bra; now she's a vegetarian and won't eat my hot dog. I thought I was being nice!"
Beth only listened in silence. She was fearful of being punished and assaulted by Rich like he did with Tricia.
"Do you want to know what her problem is?" continued Rich. "Just like from the movie, Scarface; her problem is she hasn't been fucked enough. You've seen that movie, haven't you?"
"No..." answered Beth.
"Well that's what happened in the movie." explained Rich. "His wife was a sophisticated bitch that hadn't been fucked enough. And that's what's wrong with Tricia. She hasn't been fucked enough! She's too busy being all sophisticated; a vegetarian that probably does yoga and all that shit. She's probably never even had a boyfriend."
"No, actually she has a boyfriend." corrected Beth. "She's been with him for a couple of years."
"He's probably the wussy type!" snapped Rich. "He probably lets her tell him what to do. He probably never gets to fuck her."
At that moment, Beth thought she would try to reason with Rich. "She's just a vegetarian, that's all. That's her choice. She probably does it for health reasons. Why does that make her a bitch? And Tricia's boyfriend is a pretty nice guy. He knows how to treat her right."
"Pff..." chuckled Rich while exhaling cigarette smoke. "That's the problem with her. She expects special treatment."
"We're not bad kids, Rich." insisted Beth. "We're not here because we just got out of prison or something. I missed my eight hours of community service because I had emergency gallbladder service on the weekend of my scheduled community service. There were no opportunities for make-ups because it was the end of the year. As for Tricia, I think it has something to do with activity overload. She was in softball at the time and had to travel away to do a game. The school wouldn't give her a break. See, that's what they do us now days in high school. It's not like when you were in school. They make us take evaluation tests and force us to sign up for honors classes—even though most of us don't want to do it. We have to be in all these extra activities and do community service on top of it all. We just got overwhelmed. That's why we're here."
"Pff!" Rich chuckled while exhaling more cigarette smoke. "I don't know... I guess I just have problems when women think they are too good for me. It's like my ex-girlfriend from last year. We had a good relationship and lived together. And I'm not going to lie or try to cover it up. I'm a recovering alcoholic. No body's perfect, right? Well, my ex-girlfriend had this 6 year old boy who was born out of wedlock. The kid was a real brat—a real asshole. I'd always try to discipline him, but my girlfriend wouldn't let me. You see, I'm from a time when kids would get beat if they did something wrong. That's what I think this kid needed. He needed a good beating with the belt. Well one day I was alone with him and watching him. He wouldn't listen to me. So I pulled off my belt and beat his ass good. He squirmed on the floor and couldn't breathe. But he needed it!
Well guess what that little fucker did. He actually told his mom—my girlfriend. She told me I had no right doing that, and kicked me out of the apartment. She told me that my problems run way deeper than my alcoholism.
See what I mean... too good for me... she thought she was too fuckin' good for me—judging me just because I used to be a drunk and I'm not perfect."
Now throughout the duration of driving from job to job that day, Rich had the radio in the truck tuned to the local classic rock station. As Rich wrapped up the story of beating his ex-girlfriend's child with a belt; a rare and sad song from the rock band, The Who, played. It was, 'The Song is Over'. You've heard it before, I'm sure...
The song is over
It's all behind me
I should have known it
She tried to find me

Our love is over
They're all ahead now
I've got to learn it
I've got to sing out...
For some reason, Rich must have liked this particular song, for he turned the volume up and finished puffing away at the remains of his cigarette while driving to the next job. At some point in the middle of the song, Rich spoke up.
"You hear this song?" he asked Beth.
"It brings me back to many years ago when I was in my early twenties. Times were different then. You see, there was this girl who lived in my neighborhood named Sue. I was in my early twenties, and she was only fifteen. And people knew that young teens fooled around with older guys back in those days. It was taboo, and you could get in trouble from it if someone got mad. But back in those days, it was alright for a guy my age to fool around with an underage girl.
We had this little ritual we would do. I'd see her out walking around the neighborhood in the afternoon, and I'd drive up to her. I'd be like, "Hey, how's it goin'? You wannt meet tonight?" She'd be like, "Yeah..."
We'd always meet at the neighborhood park just after sunset when no one would see. She'd sit in my car and we'd fool around. Man, she had some big tits! I did stuff with her that I probably shouldn't tell you because you're too young. And I remember on my last night with her, this song was playing on the radio."
By now, the tune from The Who was drawing to a close.
This song is over
I'm left with only tears
I must remember
Even if it takes a million years
The song is over...
The song is over...
Rich concluded the glory tale of his days of statutory rape as the song ended. "I saw her a couple of years ago—all grown up with a husband and kids of her own. She got real pretty as she got older. And I could tell that she really made something of her life; probably went to college and got a real job. Well, she took notice of me, and got all nervous. She obviously didn't want her husband and kids knowing that she once had something to do with me. I could sense that she now saw me as the creepy guy that she once fooled around with. Same old story; another woman who is suddenly too fuckin’ good for me..."
For a moment, Beth was nearly mesmerized with Rich's story. She started to feel sorry for him. Although not perfect, Rich was just like many other people; a hopeless romantic who just wanted to be loved. But then Beth glanced up at the rearview mirror and, for the first time, noticed that it was angled in such a way so that Rich could stare at her breasts bouncing up and down on the road. In the mirror, Rich had his noteworthy perverted smile on his face.
"Could you not...?" Beth tried to cover her partially exposed breasts, but the sliced up t-shirt was too small. Everything hung out and could be seen, including her jiggly muffin top.
"What? What's wrong?" asked Rich.
Beth said nothing in return, just sat there feeling humiliated as Rich continued to gawk at her in the mirror.
"Oh, don't feel ashamed of your body like that." reassured Rich with a sickening, sympathetic voice. "I know that some guys prefer real skinny girls like that bitch, Tricia. But other guys, like me, like chunky girls like you. You kinda remind me of that girl I used to fool around with at the park that I was telling you about."
The terror ripped through Beth's veins. Was Rich actually coming onto her? Was he going to try and relive his glory days of casual sex with young girls?

To  be continued…

Thursday, July 2, 2015

Community Service (part three)

Hello All:
I’m doing it again! In writing the conclusion to the ongoing short story which has been running on the blog since last Friday; I am left with no other choice but to dump the contents from my notepad onto today’s blog post. You see; I really had no idea that the story was going to be this involved! It’s just becoming increasingly complicated as it progresses.
In today’s update, we learn as to just how trapped the pair of recently-graduated-from-high-school girls are who are fulfilling their required eight hours of community service with Square Deal Landscaping. They cannot receive their physical diplomas until the crew chief of the landscaping company signs off on their hours. Unfortunately, they are subjected to all sorts of unfair humiliation, harassment and even assault.
I’ve got to get these girls out of this situation! For now, enjoy today’s installment of Community Service. Be sure to scroll down for the past couple of blog updates to get part 1 and part 2 if you haven’t done so already.
Community Service (part 3)  
The crew arrived at a large house that was surrounded by plenty of bushes.
"Bush trimming!" announced Rich. "As for you girls, you can start with tarping. Don, show them how to tarp. I've got to make a phone call to Joe."
Tarping is an activity that involves laying drop clothes around bushes that are to be trimmed. The droppings land on the cloth which makes it easy to simply roll up and then dump into a bucket. Don and John pulled out all the boxes of drop cloths from the trailer and then instructed the girls how to tarp. While this happened, Rich telephoned Joe from inside the truck to report Tricia's defiance.
Some minutes later Rich stepped out of the truck and called out, "Tricia! Tricia, come here for a minute!"
Tricia dropped one of the cloths back into the box and ran over to Rich.
"This is my boss, the owner of the company." explained Rich. "You need to talk to him." Rich handed her the phone.
"Hello?" greeted Tricia.
"Hi, this is Joe. I'm the owner and president of Square Deal Landscaping. What's going on over there?"
"What's going on?" asked Tricia. "Well, we are tarping and getting ready to do some bush trimming. Why?"
"I understand you are being defiant—not very cooperative." answered Joe. "Do you have a problem?"
"No..." answered Tricia.
"I hear you've been a real problem since you arrived." continued Joe. "And what's this I hear that you won't put on the company shirt?"
"That's right!" answered Tricia. "I refuse to put that on!"
"You are required to wear company uniform." ordered Joe. "If it becomes a problem, then we won't be signing off on your community service. Understand?" Keep in mind that Joe had no idea that the t-shirts had been modified in such a way to expose the girls' bras, cleavage and bellies. Rich left out that important detail while reporting Tricia. Joe would never expect the girls to wear that.
"Fine!" sharply answered Tricia. Then she handed the phone back to Rich.
"Thanks Joe... Yeah, I'll keep an eye on her... Okay, bye..."
"See, what did I tell you?" asked Rich to Tricia. "Now get in that trailer and change into the company uniform!" He handed Tricia the pink t-shirt, and then slowly walked behind as she stormed into the trailer.
Inside the stall, Tricia immediately noticed the mirror. She isn't stupid. She knew what Rich was up to. Tricia pulled the mirror off the wall and set it on the floor. And just to make sure no one could see her, she turned towards the opposite wall to change into the ridiculous, degrading t-shirt.
Several feet away, Rich threw a silent fit upon seeing that the mirror had been removed. How dare the girl vandalize company property?
Fumed, Tricia emerged from the stall in the modified t-shirt which exposed her pink bra and slender, tan belly.
"Ooo! Aren't we elegant?" exclaimed Rich while staring at Tricia's pink bra which covered a pair of small breasts. "And it looks like you've been getting plenty of Sun." he was referring to Tricia's tan belly. "Now get out there and start tarping!" ordered Rich. "I'm not done with you! You're gonna really have to earn those community service hours today."
Humiliated and equally outraged, Tricia stormed out to the bushes and resumed tarping with her partner for the day, Beth."What do you think of these t-shirts?" Tricia asked Beth while bending over to fit the drop cloth around the roots of a juniper bush.
"I don't know..." Beth answered. She was bent over as well and fitting drop cloth. “I think it’s pretty stupid that they make us wear this. Isn’t this sexual harassment?”
"Come on, ladies!" called out Rich some ten feet away. "Less talk and more work. We've got a heavy route today, and it all needs to get done."
"Jeez..." silently exclaimed Tricia. "What did we do to deserve this?"
"Really, they are not supposed to make us wear stuff like this." whispered Beth to Tricia.
"Oh, I know." agreed Tricia.
"I'm pretty sure we can report these guys for sexual harassment." further suggested Beth.
In the distance, Don and John fired up the bush trimmers.
"No, no, no!" shouted Rich in an irate tone of voice. "You're doing it all wrong!" He quickly approached Tricia who was bent over in her cotton white shorts. "Lean in and straighten out that drop cloth." He slid his hand up the cuff Tricia's shorts and made contact with her bare skin; actually touched the lower cheek of Tricia's ass. His other hand rest on her lower back. "Lean!" he ordered.
Tricia tried to stand up, but hit the back of her head on the bushes. "You can stop touching me like that!" she warned.
"Never mind the backtalk!" snapped Rich. "Now lean in and straighten out that drop cloth... that's it... good..." Satisfied, Rich released his hold from Tricia. Then he rushed over to Beth who was bent over and unfolding a drop cloth. "You too!" he complained. "You're doing it all wrong!" Rich's hand slid up the cuff of Beth's denim shorts for some full skin contact. Unlike with Tricia, he actually gave Beth's lower cheek a good, firm squeeze while ordering, "Lean in... That's it..."
"Ugh!" screamed Beth. "What are you doing?"
Her voice was drowned out by the sound of an approaching gas-powered bush trimmer.
"Stay down and lean in!" continued to order Rich. "These tarps need to cover the entire ground. We don't want to be cleaning the trimmings out by hand!"
Suddenly, Rich noticed that John was trimming the bushes improperly. This outraged and caused him to dart over and yell. "You're doing it all wrong!" he shouted with eyes of rage that burned through his sunglasses. "I thought I taught you how to trim bushes the right way. Even strokes that go up and down, remember?"
"I am!" argued John.
As Rich and John both argued in the distance, Tricia used the opportunity to pull out the cell phone from her pocket. "I'm calling my mom." she announced to Beth. "We can't stay here and put up with this for the rest of the day. This Rich guy is nearly raping us! He's creepy!"
But just as Tricia was about to press the call button, her phone had been snatched out of her hand. Rich now hand it in his dirty, grimy hands as he slid it into his pocket.
"Give me my phone back!" shouted Tricia.
"You can get it back at the end of the day." reassured Rich. "There is no texting, Facebooking, tweeting or anything involving your phone while on the job."
"You have no right to take my phone away!" argued Tricia. "Give it back, now!"
"Excuse me?" challenged Rich. "Do I need to remind you that I'm the one in charge today? You do what I say, or you won't be receiving your high school diploma, remember?"
Tricia truly hated Rich, and it showed in that moment. What right did he have to sexually harass—even sexually assault—both girls, and then take away their cell phones to prevent them from calling for help?
"See, that's the problem with you kids today." continued Rich. "Too much cell phones and Internet. You get distracted easily. Companies today mandate that people not use their personal devices during work hours. Bosses even take these things away from their employees. This is just a little taste of what to expect after college. Like I said before; welcome to the real world."
Then Rich looked over to Beth. "How about you? Do you have a cell phone in your possession?"
Beth had hers in the front pocket of her denim shorts. But she wasn't going to confess to it. She just might have been the only chance to contact someone on the outside for help. "No, I left it at home." she lied.
"Good!" answered Rich. Then he looked over to Tricia. "It looks like you are getting bored with tarping. Maybe you need something a little more challenging. We can do that for you. Follow me."
Reluctantly, Tricia followed Rich over to John who continued trimming bushes.
"Hey!" called out Rich.
John looked over with an annoyed look on his face.
"I'm going to give her a chance to trim bushes. You go over there and help Beth with tarping. Make sure she's doing it right."
John set the trimmer down on the ground and head over to where Beth worked.
"Pick up that trimmer!" said Rich to Tricia.
Tricia did as ordered. Really, it wasn't terribly heavy.
"Now you have to be careful!" Rich cautioned. "You can cut your fingers off with these things. And if the blades pinch your skin, it'll cause a severe cut. You'll end up in the emergency room for stitches. Go ahead and try to trim that bush."
Tricia hesitated before placing the bladed end of gas-powered trimmer against the bush. Surely she would do it wrong, and it would result in more scolding from Rich—possibly another sexual assault. She pressed the throttle button which caused the trimmer to roar while slicing away at branches and leaves.
"No, no!" shouted Rich with an angry face. "You're doing it all wrong! You need to make even strokes."
Tricia pulled away from the bush and released the throttle button with a pouty face. She simply couldn't do anything right.
It was immediately followed by another sexual assault by Rich as he reached his arm around Tricia's shoulder for the gas trimmer. Just like with the buckets of grass trimmings, Rich was going help Tricia with trimming the bushes.
"You do it like this, nice and smooth... Put your other hand on the handle like this... Then you press the throttle button..."
The gas trimmer roared as Rich guided Tricia in making up and down movements along the bush. As usual, Rich's crotch was snug against her ass. He smelled like dirty sweat and stale cigarette smoke. And then he did the unbelievable! With one hand still guiding Tricia's grip on the trimmer, he reached over with his other and touched the cup of Tricia's pink bra.
Tricia tried to pull away, but Rich held her in place.
"Up and down... nice and easy strokes... keep going!" Rich ordered. He said this while slowly circling Tricia's nipple and areola through her silky, pink bra.
"Stop it!" she screamed while trying with all her might to resist.
"Keep trimming!" Rich ordered. "You need to be careful with trimmers. You don't want to cut yourself." He continued to fondle and play with Tricia's small breast and nipple. As he always believed, women with little tits have pointy nipples that easily become aroused. And it must have been true. As much as Tricia hated it, her nipple was turning hard.
Beth continued to glance up from the distance and recognized the scene as nothing more than a sexual assault. She wanted so bad to call the police, but feared John confiscating her phone like Rich did to Tricia.
"Don't let him get to you." urged John to Beth. "He's just one of those guys that always think they're right. As for your friend, she's gonna have to learn how to cooperate with him more. He doesn't give in until you do what he says—exactly how he says." Then John made small talk. "So are you going to school in the fall?"
"Yeah..." answered Beth.
Tricia continued to endure Rich's fondling who now smiled like a pervert.
Don poured some more mystery booze into his coffee while a cigarette dangled from his mouth.

To be continued…

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Community Service (part two)

Hello All:
As promised, I have continued writing the conclusion to Friday’s short story, Community Service. But it’s gotten much more involved than I had planned. I keep telling myself, “We’re almost there… Come on… Wrap up the ending of the story…”
But wouldn’t you know it? This story is growing and growing. I have yet to complete it! So it’s Tuesday, and I will dump some more of the contents of my notepad into today’s blog post. There is much work to do before I can say this story is finished. You see; I am beginning to strongly dislike the main character, Rich. He’s been doing some not-so-nice things to these girls who simply want to put in their remaining hours of community service so they can graduate high school. If you ask me, he needs to be seriously punished. This is what I must spend the next day or so working on. I need a dramatic ending in which he gets what he deserves.
For now, here is part two of Community Service. Hopefully by part three we will have the ending.
Do read part one if you haven’t already: PART ONE
Community Service (part two)
Rich carefully watched as Beth parked her car along the side of the curb. But he soon grew irate upon seeing the way that she was doing it. He rattled his closed fists close to his chest, and soon hammered his thigh. "No! What are you doing?"
This confused Beth as she had parallel parked on curbs plenty of times. What could the not-so-friendly man be so angry about?
"You're doing it all wrong!" shouted Rich while storming over to the driver side door to the car. Once close, he smiled in an effort to cover his anger. "Didn't they show you how to park in driver's education?"
"Yeah...?" answered Beth. "What am I doing wrong?"
"Well, see, you're doing it all wrong." explained Rich. "You wanna make sure that you're lined up just right so that the edge of the bumper is about three feet from that tree. You see that tree?" asked Rich.
"Yeah...?" answered Beth. She wondered just what sort of new law had been passed that mandated having the bumper three feet from a tree.
"Tell you what. I'll guide you." said Rich. With that, he stood some distance behind the car and began to motion his four fingers towards him to indicate that she back up.
The car began to back up as Rich directed.
"That's it... nice and slow... nice and steady..." Finally, he raised his open palm so that she would stop backing up.
Seconds later, Beth stepped out of her shiny, Blue Mustang.
"Nice car!" exclaimed Rich. "Did your mom and dad get that for you?"
"Yeah, it was a graduation present." she answered.
"Must be nice!" remarked Rich while escorting Beth up the drive and through the gate. "Yup, a lotta you kids these days are a little spoiled and used to having money. That's what's wrong with you today. You want everything handed to you on a silver platter. But from what I understand, you didn't complete your necessary hours of community service to graduate high school. Your mom and dad couldn't help you with that?
"No...? answered Beth. She was confused with whatever point the unfriendly man was trying to make. The reason Beth couldn't make her eight hours of community service was because she had emergency gallbladder surgery during one of the scheduled weekends of community service. And that's why she was short on her hours.
"Ha! That figures!" further remarked Rich. "And what's your name?"
"Well Beth, welcome to the real world. People work really hard here. We'll see to it that you get your share of hard work today. And maybe this'll help prepare you for after college. As you're finding out, Mom and Dad can't bail you out of everything in life."
Just then, another car—a Pontiac G6—slowly approached the entrance of Square Deal Landscaping. Inside was a cute, brunette with brown eyes. It was Tricia who, just like Beth, was reporting to do her eight hours of community service to graduate. Tricia was smart, and could see the blue Mustang parked at the curb in front of Square Deal Landscaping along with an apparent employee escorting a fellow student from her graduating class through the fenced-in area. Because of this, Tricia proceeded to parallel park behind the Mustang.
"Rich!" called out Don with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. "The other girl is here."
Rich immediately turned around, ran through the gate and to the street. "Hey!" he called out. "Stop!"
Confused and a bit annoyed, Tricia did as ordered and waited for—what she immediately recognized as a loser in a wife beater t-shirt with brown Dickies work pants—to reach her car.
"Didn't they teach you kids how to parallel park in driving school?" he asked.
"Why, what's wrong?" challenged Tricia. She immediately disliked Rich.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "Well you're doing it all wrong! You need to cut your wheels in at about six feet from the bumper and then pull in."
"Since when?" asked Tricia. "Why is that necessary? And besides, I'm already parked." With that, Tricia rolled up her windows and shut off the car.
Rich was dumbfounded—soon outraged—as Tricia exited the vehicle. "Listen, apparently no one ever taught you much." he began. "But I'm the crew chief of this organization, and people listen to what I say. Apparently, the kids of your generation were never taught to show respect to authority. Well I'm here to change that for you. What time were you told to be here?"
"What time was I told to be here?" asked Tricia in a defiant tone of voice. "Between seven and eight o'clock."
"No, it doesn't work that way." declared Rich. "Starting time at Square Deal Landscaping is at seven o'clock. That means you are late. And in order to ensure that you get your required amount of time in for community service, you're going to have to put in a little overtime for today. I can see we've got a lot of work for your girls before you are ready to graduate. I'm the last person who signs off on everything so that you graduate. So you better start showing me some respect, understand?"
Tricia was in no mood to argue with the idiot in front of her. Apparently he was going to use today as an opportunity to exercise what little authority he had in life. "Sure..." she answered. "No problem..."
"Good!" exclaimed Rich. "Follow me through the gate, and we'll get started.
Suddenly, Rich noticed John pointing to Beth the inside of the trailer. He handed her the modified company shirt and directed her to change into it.
"Son of a bitch!" Rich shouted. He was outraged to say the least. Had Rich not seen this, he might have missed peeping on the girl as she removed her shirt in the mirror. Rich ran over to the trailer and harshly whispered to John. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm telling her to change into company uniform." he whispered in reply with a smile.
Anyone could have seen the furious look behind Rich's sunglasses at that moment. But to avoid a scene he simply whispered, "Well have this other girl, Tricia—she's a real bitch—empty the grass buckets into the dumpster. When she's done, we'll send her in to change into her work shirt."
The back of the trailer was still open. Being the case, Rich quietly and softly walked up the ramp, to a vantage point near the corner which yielded a view of the mirror. Rich could see Beth examining the modified shirt which was severely ripped and torn. Did they really expect her to wear this? Feeling she had no choice, Beth lifted up her t-shift which exposed a plain, white bra. As wished, Beth had large breasts with significant cleavage that could be seen through the bra. Rich was delighted to see this, of course. Beth next struggled to slip into the modified company shirt. When finally on, she could see that it revealed quite a lot. She might as well have just walked around in her bra. And Beth was not happy with the way her slight "muffin top" was now exposed.
She sighed and walked out of the privacy stall.
"Lookin' good!" exclaimed Rich with a perverted smile on his face.
Beth was startled; soon wondered if Rich had been standing there all along and possibly watching her.
Rich slowly approached while examining Beth's cleavage bulging through her bra. Too bad John hadn't cut the t-shirt lower. He might then have had more opportunities to stare at the outline of Beth's nipples.
"At the end of the day you can keep that t-shirt as a souvenir." said Rich while continuing to stare at Beth like a pervert. Then he ordered, "Come-on let's go see what Tricia is doing. You can give her a hand."
Emptying the grass buckets is a grueling task that involves dumping the contents of four-foot metal buckets that are filled with grass clippings—often wet—into a dumpster that is designated for landscaping waste. When filled, the bucket can easily weight 100 pounds. A flatbed truck is backed over to the dumpster so that one of the crew members can tilt the bucket over so the contents fall out. But it's not so easy to do this. You see; the grass clippings are packed into the bucket which requires it to be wrestled and rolled with as it lay on the edge of the dumpster. It can be challenging for a man to do this. But imagine a girl just out of high school emptying the grass buckets for the first time.
Tricia stood on the edge of the flatbed with bucket tilted and resting on the dumpster. As suggested by John, she struggled and rolled the bucket from side to side which caused some grass clippings to fall out.
Tricia wore a pair of white, cotton shorts with the cuffs folded up to expose plenty of thighs which were already nice and tan. And for an eighteen year old girl, Tricia had a cute ass. To match the shorts, she wore a pink polo shirt.
Rich shook his head in disbelief. "So I've got to show you girls how to do everything." He climbed up onto the flat bed and approached Tricia. Then, without hesitation, Rich planted the crotch of his brown, Dickies work pants right in the center of Tricia's ass. The girl’s ass was firm and tight!
Of course Tricia did not like this. "What are you doing?" she shouted.
"I'm showing you how to empty buckets. Like I said, you girls are spoiled and not used to doing hard work."
Tricia tried to fight Rich, but he was too strong for her. He continued to push Tricia towards the edge of the dumpster to the point of her falling in. The only way to prevent this was to allow the dirty loser to sexually assault her ass.
"That's right... side to side...  We rock it side to side..." Rich's entire body lay on top of Tricia’s. He smelled like old sweat and stale cigarette smoke. His hairy arms were gross and made full contact with Tricia's beautiful, slender arms.
Soon the bucket was empty.
"There!" announced Rich upon finally pull away. "That's how you empty buckets! Now do the next one!" he ordered.
There were a total of five buckets on the flat bed that morning. Fumed from her sexual assault, Tricia dragged the next bucket over to the edge and tipped it towards the dumpster.
"Beth, you wanna come up here and help Tricia?" said Rich in a commanding tone of voice.
Beth did as ordered; climbed on the flatbed in her degrading company t-shirt which exposed her bra and "muffin top" belly.
Tricia glanced over to Beth who now dragged the third bucket over. She momentarily froze out of disbelief at the sight of the "company uniform". Would Tricia be expected to wear a similar shirt?
Beth tipped the bucket over and began to wrestle and struggle with it.
"Here, let me help you." announced Rich while approaching. Just like with Tricia, he planted the crotch of his Dickies work pants in the middle of Beth's ass. Hers was soft and cushion-like. And while reaching over for the bucket, Rich was sure to graze his hand against Beth's breast which was delightful to the touch.
"Side to side... side to side... that's it..."
Beth was fully aware of Rich sexually assaulting her. But what could she do besides hope the moment would quickly pass?
"Do you think you got it?" asked Rich.
"I think so..." answered Beth.
"Okay, keep rocking from side to side with the bucket." Rich's crotch remained planted in Beth's ass as he moved his hairy arms away. This time he reached both palms up to her breasts and made a full contact cup with them. He was sure to barely squeeze before fully pulling away.
The fright and adrenaline caused Beth to wrestle faster and harder with the bucket. Was the not-so-nice pervert going to rape her by the end of the day?
Both girls were secretly relieved that Rich had climbed off the flat bed. He walked over to the other side of the dumpster to continue watching Tricia and Beth who were now sweaty and breathing heavy from the work overload. Beth's cleavage hung down and swayed from side to side.
Soon Don and John joined Rich on the other side of the dumpster to watch in delight as both girls worked and sweat.
"Keep it up!" ordered Rich. "You're almost done... Beth, you take the last bucket. Tricia, come down here for a moment."
Tricia climbed off the flatbed and reluctantly approached Rich who held pink t-shirt in his hand which was similar to the one that Beth wore.
"You need to change into company uniform." informed Rich while handing Tricia the t-shirt.
Tricia held the t-shirt out in front of her and immediately noticed the way it had been altered. "I'm not wearing this!" she declared. "No way!"
"Excuse me?" demanded Rich. "Did you just tell me that you are not going to change into company uniform?"
"That's right!" reassured Tricia. "That t-shirt is degrading. And I'm pretty sure it's considered sexual harassment."
"Fine!" exclaimed Rich with furious eye that burned through his sunglasses. "Have it your way! I'll have the owner talk to you in a little while. It looks like maybe you won't be fulfilling your obligation of eight hours community service to graduate. And it's because of insubordination. Now get in that truck over there! You can ride with Don and John today."
Tricia threw the shirt on the ground and stormed over the pickup truck with trailer mounted on back.
"Son of a bitch!" exclaimed Rich while picking up the pink t-shirt.
"What's wrong?" asked Don while approaching with a cigarette dangling out of his mouth. "She won't wear it?"
"Nope! I'll have to call Joe and have him talk to her."
Five minutes later, John and Don drove off in one trailer with Tricia sitting wedged in the middle seat. Rich and Beth sat in the other truck. As he started the vehicle, the breathalyzer sounded an alert.
"Ah ha!" exclaimed Rich as he proudly picked up the mouthpiece. This is a breathalyzer. See, I had a DUI. The state won't let me drive unless I regularly supply breath samples to prove I'm not drinking."
"I see..." answered Beth as Rich blew into mouthpiece.
A green "pass" light illuminated which allowed Rich to drive.
"So are you and Tricia friends?" asked Rich to Beth.
"We were in some classes in high school." answered Beth. "I mean we knew each other, but weren't best friends or anything."
"Well she's a bitch!" declared Rich.
"Why do you say that?" asked Beth.
"She won't change into her company shirt." answered Rich. "She's been defiant ever since she got here. I'd hate to do this, but maybe I won't sign off on her community service hours at the end of the day. Then she won't graduate high school. I can do that.—you know?"
Beth remained silent. Really, she didn't want to wear the degrading shirt. Maybe she should have refused to wear it as well. And maybe she and Tricia could report Square Deal Landscaping for sexual harassment.

To be continued…

Friday, June 26, 2015

Community Service

Hello All:
I'm afraid I'm going to have to dump whatever new writings I have in notepad onto Friday's blog post. I started off with a short story, and then realized that it was getting a little more involved than I had planned.
Imagine a small landscaping company composed of the owner (who works out of his home and never shows up on site) and a skeleton crew of three workers who might be considered a bit creepy. I'll let you draw your own conclusions of the characters when reading part one of this story.
Now imagine two young girls who recently graduated high school, and must now spend a day working with the above three individuals. Why would they have to do this? Well, they cannot receive their high school diplomas until they complete the required hours of community service. Both girls have only 8 hours to put in. It should be easy working with the landscapers, right?
Have a great weekend! Hopefully by Monday I will have some landscaping erotica for everyone. (If not, Tuesday).
Community Service
It was a Monday morning in June which was the start of summer break for Tricia and Beth. Both girls had recently graduated high school, but did not "officially” receive their diplomas at the graduation ceremony. You see, both girls were short on their necessary hours of community service—a recent requirement in the state where they lived. Community service could have been any number of things ranging from assisting with renovating homes in low income housing areas, to working at the public park to improve landscaping. Both Tricia and Beth had put in most of their hours for this community service. Still, they were short eight hours.
Fortunately, the high school was willing to make a deal with both Tricia and Beth. They could follow through with the graduation ceremony as expected, but would not receive their diplomas until eight hours of community service had been completed. And fortunately for Tricia and Beth, a local landscaping company named Square Deal Landscaping offered to assist in this matter. Both girls would simply need to report to the business headquarters of Square Deal Landscaping to put in eight hours of community service. They would ride with the crew and visit various customers—residents and commercial—to mow lawns, trim bushes, and plant trees—whatever work needed to be done for the day. Once their eight hours had been fulfilled, the two girls would be considered "officially graduated".
The business headquarters of Square Deal Landscaping is located in a shabby industrial area of town. It’s nothing more than a laid-stone fenced-in area with two trailers dropped onto the ground which houses the company's landscaping equipment. A couple of trucks with small trailers mounted on back are parked on the grounds as well. Aside from that, it looked to be the most desolate place one could report for work—especially for young girls who had just graduated from high school. But the skeleton crew of operatives; Rich, Don and John; didn't mind. It was simply the place they reported to for work each day.
"We've got those girls coming today!" announced Rich to the two other landscapers. Rich was the designated crew chief. He was a recovering alcoholic who had recently received his license back after having a DUI. All the trucks of Square Deal Landscaping were now equipped with breathalyzers which would not allow the vehicles to start unless Rich blew in to prove that he had not been drinking. And this breathalyzer test would sometimes happen, randomly, while driving. You see, it would be easy for a drunk to simply start the vehicle and leave it run throughout the course of an evening while visiting the bars to drink. To avoid this "hacking" into the test, breathalyzers spot check drivers with DUIs on their records by sounding an alert to immediately supply a sample of breath.
"Oh Yeah!" cheered Don upon remembering that today was the day that girls would work with them. "I wonder what they look like?" Unlike Rich, Don was a hardcore alcoholic who also had a DUI. He had yet to receive his license back and had no plans on trying. He realized just how serious his alcoholism was. You see, it was nothing for Don to nearly finish a fifth of some booze every night. During the day it was necessary for him to pack a little booze in his lunchbox to prevent the shakes from withdrawal. Of course, Don smoked heavily throughout the day. Every time one would see him, he had a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He usually wore nothing more than a pair of basketball shorts with tennis shoes. Although seriously tan, his body looked wasted away—a thirty five year old man in a seventy five year old man’s body.
"Do we have special uniforms for these girls to wear?" asked the third landscaper, John, while loading the first wide mower into the trailer. "We should give these girls something nice to wear." Unlike Rich and Don, John was actually normal. He kept his act clean and never received a DUI. His drinking and drug use was moderate. The same could be said for the owner of the company, Joe, who rarely made an appearance. He ran the business out of his home
"What did you have in mind, John?" asked Rich.
"Well they need to wear company shirts." reminded John. "The boss left us two t-shirts for them to wear for the day. And look, he made them pink just because they are girls." John held the shirts up.
"Cute!" exclaimed Rich. But I notice the shirts are small. I hope these girls aren't chunky!"
"Yeah, and what if they have they big tits?" speculated Don with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. "Do you think them big titties can fit into those shirts?"
"Well we can fix that." reassured John.
"How ya gonna do that?" asked Rich.
With that, John reached into one of the tool boxes from inside the trailer and pulled out a pair of scissors
"Oh jeez!" exclaimed Don while pouring some mystery booze into his morning coffee. "You're not really gonna do that, are you?" Already his eyes were glazed red.
John remained silent while cutting the sleeves off one of the pink shirts that the company owner, Joe, had specially ordered for the girls. It boasted the name and logo of Square Deal Landscaping. Once the shirt had been turned sleeveless, John then trimmed about one third of the bottom off so that the t-shirt had been transformed into a halter top. "And, Rich..." John called out. "In case you are worried that these girls might have some big titties..." Finally, John cut from the top center of the shirt to about halfway to the bottom. This was made to expose possibly cleavage which all three of the men hoped the girls had.
"Beautiful!" exclaimed Rich. "Do that to the other one! I'm going to modify the portable toilet in our trailer so we can all watch these girls undress.” Then he ordered, “Don, while I do that, you finish loading up all this equipment. Hurry up! The girls can be here any minute!"
This portable toilet is a makeshift innovation of Rich's which is nothing  more than a two sheets of plywood fastened to the sidewall of the trailer and spaced out about four feet to create a privacy stall. Inside the privacy stall is a five gallon bucket filled with water and Pine Sol. This, as Rich once read, is perfectly acceptable by OSHA to be used as a portable urinal by crews out in the field. The contents simply had to be disposed of at the end of the day with new water and Pine Sol added.
Now inside of this makeshift portable urinal is a mirror. Rich was sure to include this so that he could check himself out in the mirror every time he finished his business. As Rich always believed, chicks dig a landscaper—especially the type who is a recovering alcoholic with a DUI on his driving record which mandates that he blow into a breathalyzer every time he attempts to start a vehicle. Such a landscaper is especially attractive in a pair of brown, Dickies work pants with wife beater t-shirt. He sucks a Dum-Dum lollipop while trimming the bushes to avoid smoking too many cigarettes throughout the day. Ah, yes! Rich had better check himself out in the mirror each time he used the makeshift portable urinal.
This morning, the urinal needed a modification. There would be young girls going inside the privacy stall area to change into their work uniforms. The mirror was usually mounted on one of the sheets of plywood which served as privacy wall. Rich moved the mirror over to the corner of the privacy stall so that it was now mounted at an angle between the trailer’s sidewall and the plywood. With it now at an angle, Rich and crew could find the optimal vantage point to observe the girls taking their shirts off in front of the mirror.
"Hey John?" called out Rich while exiting the trailer "Are you almost done with that other shirt?"
"Yup!" affirmed John. "Here it is." He proudly displayed the pink t-shirt which was cut just like the other.
Just then a shiny, brand-new, blue Mustang slowly drove the main road in front of the headquarters. Inside was a pretty, young blond girl with hair pulled back. It was one of the girls, Beth. She looked to be just out of high school, and maybe looking for the location of Square Deal Landscaping.
"Hey Rich!" called out Don upon loading the final piece of equipment into the trailer. "Do you think that's one of the girls?"
"I bet it is!" exclaimed Rich. He nearly darted out of the stone covered landscaping yard and into the street. "Hey!" he called out to the Mustang. It was followed by a piercing whistle.
The car was now some fifty feet past the entrance to Square Deal Landscaping. Upon Rich calling out, the blue Mustang did a three point turn and head back towards Rich who now flagged the driver towards him as if directing a plane to land. He stood there in his brown, Dickies work pants and a red, wife beater t-shirt which exposed his hairy arms. As he often did, Rich sucked a Dum Dum lollipop. And there was something in his body language that implied that he was—perhaps—irritated or angry.
"Are you here to do your eight hours of community service?" asked Rich to the young girl in the driver seat.
The girl nodded in affirmation.
"Okay, park your car on the curb off the road.” Rich ordered. “Then go through that gate to where you see everyone else standing, understand?”
Beth nervously smiled and nodded.
“What time were you supposed to be here?” asked Rich.
In a young, sweet and innocent voice she answered, “Umm… they told me to be here at seven o’clock?”
“Well it’s 7:10!” declared Rich. “You’re late! We’re gonna have to work in some overtime so that you get your community service.” Rich needed to establish himself as the lord and master. This was his opportunity to exercise whatever authority he had over the girls. They would not receive their high school diplomas until Rich and the crew of Square Deal Landscaping were finished with them.

To be continued…

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Chloroform Rape!

Hello All:
It's Tuesday afternoon, and we're off to a late start with new stories. But rest-assured, I have a new one for you! I thought of today's featured writing while listening to Pandora radio in my car. I happened to glance down at the artist and title and could swear I read something that said Chloroform.
"Chloroform?" I asked out loud. "What's that about? Is that the latest craze? Is everyone out there trying to get high on Chloroform these days?"
My mind went back to all those times that I watched some crime scene on TV in which a rag of Chloroform had been stuffed over a victim's face. It caused this person to immediately pass out.
"I should write a story about Chloroform!" I exclaimed out loud. "Maybe something about Chloroform rape?"
And here we are; a new story at the Literary World of Tom Raimbault: Chloroform Rape. Enjoy!
Chloroform Rape!
It was the 10:00 evening news as the anchor introduced the next story with a serious expression on his face. "Police are warning local residents of a pair of men who are now classified as serial rapists. Two assaults have taken place in the same neighborhood in which the break and enter the home. The men use poisonous Chloroform on their victims, a material which historically was used in surgery to put patients asleep. It is, however, very dangerous and can lead to death.
In both assaults, the pair of rapists video tape their sinister deed so that the victim wakes up sometime later to discover their own rape being played on the TV in their house. Police are releasing a portion of one of those videos in hopes that someone might recognize any of the men. We warn you. The images in this video are disturbing. If you are sensitive or have young children, please don't look".
The image on the TV switched to a homemade video which showed a woman kicking her legs while a pair of arms held her down. A rag was stuffed across her face. The victim quickly went still. One of the rapists then looked into the camera to announce, "And that's what we do to you!" He wore a Kangol hat, a pair of sunglasses and had a long, ZZ Top beard!
The news anchor flashed back on the screen. "Police are unsure if the long beards are only part of the disguise. If anyone has any information on who these individuals are, they are being asked to call the police. They are looking for any information that can lead to an arrest."
The camera next switched to a matrixed out face of a woman with altered voice to hide her identity. "I am a surviving victim of this brutal attack. It was horrible! All I can say is if you find yourself under attack by these men, you need to do what you can to get away. Chloroform is a deadly chemical which can kill you. I feared for my life throughout the assault, and didn't know if I would die from all the Chloroform that they used. They just kept placing the rag over my face each time I came to, just to make me pass out so they could keep raping me. I begged them to stop and promised that I would lay there and let them do what they needed to do. But they only laughed, and kept using the Chloroform. I really think they got off on continuously rendering me unconscious. I don't know what sort of people would want to do something like that."
Sue sat all by herself in the family room during the 10:00 news broadcast. Her husband was a trucker, and would be on the road throughout the night. She shuddered upon seeing the story, and was a bit fearful because she did live in the area of the recent attacks. She knew that Chloroform could be deadly, and had a fear of being forced unconscious through chemical means.
Sue sat there for a moment and imagined how horrible it would be if the men had broken into her home and fought with her. No one would be home. No one could save her while she screamed out for help as a rag of Chloroform was being smashed over her face. Would she survive? Would she be okay?
Just then, Sue heard a strange noise in the kitchen. It sounded like maybe someone had bumped into the kitchen chair.
"Doug?" she called out in a concerned voice. She and her husband didn't have children, so no one should have been in the house. "Doug is that you?"
Outside of the TV playing in the family room, the entire house was dark. Sue cautiously stood up. Her anxiety now spiked which quickly affected her heart into beating faster. Already she could see how difficult it would be to resist breathing if a rag of Chloroform had been stuffed across her face.
Slowly and carefully, Sue entered the kitchen. She turned on the light, but could see no one. Maybe it was only her imagination. Speculating this, Sue turned around and shook her head while nervously laughing. "I need to stop drinking all that coffee." she told herself. "It's making me jumpy at night."
But then, upon returning to the family room, she spotted the startling face of a man with ZZ Top beard, a Kangol hat, and sunglasses through the reflection of the mirror. Sue screamed, but it was too late. Already he had raced up from behind and restrained her. A rag was immediately stuffed over her face. It had to be Chloroform! Sue fought and wrestled with the man but it was no use.
"Breathe honey! Breathe!" he urged her. "She's trying not breathe. He told his partner. "She knows about the Chloroform."
"Well, she'll have no choice. Eventually, she's going to have to take a breath." pointed the other rapist. "Just hold her down and keep the rag to her face."
The man who restrained her was too strong for Sue. He forced her to the ground and kept the rag across her face. With heart racing and an instinctive need to breathe, she soon drew in the sweet, toxic smell of Chloroform and passed out.
Some moments later, Sue awoke in a dazed frame of mind. Her pants were pulled down, and one of the men was doing something to her.
"She's awake!" a voice warned "Get the rag!"
The rag of Chloroform was smashed across Sue's face which immediately caused her to go unconscious.
Sometime later, Sue awoke with something large stuffed in her mouth. In her dazed and confused state, she surmised that it was one of the rapist's erect penises. It tasted like one (Sue had sucked plenty of cock in her life), so this was easy to conclude. As for the other man, his erect penis was pumping in and of Sue's vagina. One of the men were squeezing her breasts and sucking her nipples.
"No, no! Time to go back to sleep, honey." said one of the rapists upon discovering that she had awoken. With erect cock sliding in and out of Sue's mouth, a rag with Chloroform was stuffed over her nose. She quickly fell unconscious.
Sometime later, Sue awoke but kept her eyes closed. Somehow she was aware of the rape taking place, and had memory that every time she awoke, Chloroform would be placed over her face. This time she thought she would trick the rapists and pretend to be unconscious.
While lying on her back, one of the men fucked her really hard. He seemed to be treating her as-if he were wildly riding a horse. He screamed out, "Yeeeeee-whooooooooo!" Some liquid had been dumped on Sue's chest. She assumed, at first, that it was a bottle of Chloroform because of the harsh smell. But then one of the men licked it up—assumedly the man doing the wild fucking. Sue quickly realized that it was liquor—maybe whiskey.
"Hey, are we going to do a sex sandwich this time?" asked one of the men.
"Oh yeah! Let's do that!" agreed the other. "You take the ass; I want to keep pumping this pussy!"
"Hey, is she awake?" the other man asked.
The rag of Chloroform was stuffed over Sue's face which immediately put her back to sleep.
Sometime later, Sue awoke and could hear the voices of her assaulters. They cheered and laughed. Sue wondered what they were doing. Apparently they were done with her as she laid there still. It didn't take long for Sue to realize that the voices were actually coming from the TV. It was the video recording of her own rape.
Naked, dazed and weak; Sue struggled to sit up. Her pussy and ass were sore. She tasted semen in her mouth. Her bare chest and breasts were wet with some type of liquor. Sue glanced over to the TV and could finally see what played. There she lay on the floor with bottle of Chloroform nearby and rag.
"You've got some really, nice titties!" one of the rapists spoke into the camera while giving Sue's tit a firm squeeze. All she could see of the man were his Kangol hat, sunglasses and ZZ Top beard as a disguise.
One of the other men mounted Sue, and stuffed his erect cock inside of her. He pumped harder and harder while reaching for a bottle of Southern Comfort whiskey. With bottle held up in the air he screamed out, "Yeeeeee-whooooooooo!" He appeared to be riding a bull in that moment. Then he took a swig; after which a large portion had been drizzled all over Sue's naked chest. It was then that he licked it up.
Sue managed to stand up while the rape played out on the TV. She staggered over to the telephone and dialed 911.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"I've been raped by the Chloroform ZZ Top bandits." she told the operator.
The End!