Factory Workers

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Factory Workers

Postby feauxen » Tue Jun 21, 2022 2:26 pm

Fair warning, sexy sex is to be found here.

Serena Hemlock lived up to her name, in the fun way. How does one live up to the name of literal poison in a fun way, you may ask?

Factory work, that’s how.

It started out incredibly complicated, and only became simple over time. She was a girl with grand ambitions to whom everything came easily, and then the real world chewed her up, spat her out, and then decided to make her laugh her heart out just as she was about to give in to the urge to beg the nearest and sexiest pred to end it all. As a result she was…mentally fragile, to put it lightly. She failed out of school and took up factory work because it was about all she was qualified for and not pointedly disinterested in, given the state of the job market at the time. So a woman who had once been touted (perhaps only by herself and a few overenthusiastic teachers, but touted nonetheless) as an up and coming genius lowered herself to factory grunt work. This had some…interesting results. Especially when the plague hit, the economy tanked, and her shit job working with good people while doing soul crushing work had to lay her off to keep the lights on.

Still, she had a history in the industry, and one factory job is much like the others…so she thought. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Her previous job had been run by people who knew what they were doing and were paid well to do it. The job she found herself in next…was run by people who had no idea what they were doing and didn’t care because they literally weren’t paid enough to care. It was still soul crushing work, but now the good people she’d been working with were either also laid off and looking for work or still working someplace that knew how to value its employees.

Of course, there is one benefit to such a job, if one is a pred. And Serena Hemlock was many things beside and before a predator, but she did enjoy a quick snack between shifts every once in a while, even at her job where she liked her coworkers. They liked her too, after all, and while it was a rare prey that would bring their desires into the workplace there wasn’t a pred alive who would turn down an offer like that when they were already clinging to every small pleasure in their life like she was.

Maybe that was why she’d been on the lay-off list, though. The company couldn’t afford the usual staffing problems that promiscuous preds caused in a work force with the financial crunch upon them and the bottom lines measured in millions of dollars per month during the slow periods caused by labor shortages.

Still, to her delight, she found that her new job featured precisely no coworkers who she felt guilty about gulping (a few of whom even stopped to ask first before she got fed up with them) and with such a high turnover rate that no one batted an eye if she had her coworker for snack in the middle of the production floor. The boss had actually given her a compliment for ‘un-hiring a slacking worker,’ and a sweet 10,000 dollar bonus after the complimentary dicking he’d put her though. At her old place, she’d had to carefully maintain the fiction that she had no idea why Sally Shorthair hadn’t come in to work today, no sir Mr. supervisor, examining a lady’s breasts in such a manner is rude and proves nothing. At her new job…well, they sometimes didn’t even notice if she finished the task assigned to her, left for lunch, and then didn’t reenter the workplace until the time came to clock out at the end of the shift four hours later. She once received a bonus from the boss shortly after returning from such an ‘extended lunch break’ with a heavy belly, and she hadn’t even gotten that one from the right zip code!

It was during one such post-lunch jaunt that she noticed something she’d been peripherally aware of before but never put too much thought into: the factory she worked at was one of many. They were sprawled out across dozens of acres of land at least and each was only far from the one next to it in the sense that the buildings themselves were massive and entrances were rarely placed near each other. In her mile-long walk down the road she took to stretch her legs (sitting in your car on your phone waiting for your shift to end gets old after the first few nerve-wracking times you do it) she came across no less than 10 other factories, many of which had outdoor employee break areas. And it was as she noted this fact that an idea began to form in the back of her mind, one born of the simple truth that she had now accepted her role in life. She was the pred that ate the nice little prey who crawled into the factories to die. Not the eager ones, those never lasted a day and she rarely so much as saw the bluge they made on the cocky pred they’d fed. Not least because such preds themselves were temporary existences in the high-stress low-reward environment of a factory work floor. Eventually they ran into another of their kind who was more cocky than they were and only one of the two walked away from the resulting confrontation.

No, Serena was the quiet and hardworking employee who sat down every day, did her work exceptionally (she had flunked college because she had stopped trying, not because she had been academically unfit for the coursework) and all the while kept a sharp eye out for her next meal.

They were hard to spot, honestly, which is why she sometimes just settled for whichever cocky idiot had decided she was prey this time. After her brush with suicidal depression earlier in life she’d come to embrace its absurdities in a way that overbearing preds just never quite understood…not that she ever really gave them a chance to figure her out. She acted, looked, and talked like a prey who wasn’t sure they wanted to melt just yet as far as they could tell, right up until suddenly she didn’t and by the time the realized what had happened they were halfway to her stomach.

And those were the clever ones. Some of them just fapped all the way down and only stopped when the burning started. Truly Darwin award material, those.

But on that fateful walk, she spotted the perfect prey. To her eye, anyway, most other competent preds would have taken one look and written the slightly frizzy-haired woman off as a bad job. An incompetent one would have tried to convince her to take the final dive and been punched in the gut for their presumption. Serena, on the other hand, knew and loved these difficult ones. They reminded her fondly of her own long-lost desire to end it all, and there were just so many of them that even working a backbreaking labor job her breasts stayed just small enough to keep them from avoiding her presence merely because of their near-absent survival instincts.

Serena did no lead-up work to disguise herself. There was no need in a place like this, she blended in perfectly with the crowd of overworked and underpaid factory workers clinging to their shortest (and final) break of the shift as they mingled with the truly unfortunate graveyard shift who was, if general policy held, given longer hours and a few dozen extra bucks a week as compensation.

“Graveyard blues?” she asked lightly as she invited herself to sit down and pulled out a not-yet eaten snack from her pocket. She kept such snacks on hand at all times for situations exactly like this one. As a bonus, the good ones doubled as perfume when she started eating, and they were worth the extra money for Prey-Slut Attractant™ intrachem treatments.

“What gave it away, the angle of the sun?” the poor mark asked wearily.

Oh, you will be delicious, Serena thought as she carefully swallowed her drool with her snacks. And near the end of her break too, for such a bleak attitude.

“The frizzy hair. I never had time to fix it until I figured out the sleeping hours. That shit’s murder.”

The mark flinched visibly, but Serena pretended not to notice. Planting the idea in their head only worked if it looked accidental.

“Tell me about it,” the mark muttered darkly, before continuing in a more normal tone of voice, “probably not literally, but I’ve seen enough shit to guess that it’s an economically viable side effect of jobs like this.”

Serena laughed in the way that had charmed two professors and one guest lecturer into her stomach, all of them shortly after editing her grades to prolong her stay in college. The rest of her meals in that dreary place had been peers who saw in her depression a kindred spirit. “You don’t have to tell me twice, I’m the one that cleans it all up.” A bald-faced lie, but it wouldn’t have been much more of a waste of talent than what she actually did. “Have you actually seen the size of those dumpsters they use for ‘special biological waste?’ They get paid by the ton, probably by the dozen on busy days.”

The mark shuddered, but looked notably less disturbed to hear about how commonplace her deep-seated desires were than she had about ‘murder.’

“I’m Serena by the way, who are you?”

“Madison Jones, personnel survivor,” came the well-practiced reply to the obvious pick-up line. But by the tone of voice, it was more a habitual response than a defense mechanism at this point.

“Oof, how many?”

Madison looked down at her slim form and tight clothes that emphasized her slim musculature and pert breasts. “Any other job, you’d be able to tell, wouldn’t you? I guess some of them got away, though. 13 if you count this morning, but personally I stopped counting the creeps after the fifth one got eaten by a territorial manager.”

“They do like looking out for us, don’t they?” Serena chimed in knowingly. “And looking good for us, if you know what I mean…”

This caught attention from one table over. “You know it, girlie,” the horny chad said. The breasts on that woman didn’t fool Serena, she knew she’d be in for a dicking if she wanted that meal.

“Oh piss off, ChadBuster,” she said, “I’ve got other plans tonight.”

“What kinda plans?”

Serena glanced at Madison and an agreement was formed in the heat of the moment. The two leaned over the table between them and kissed deeply. Serena used the move to pass a sweet candy she’d been sucking on to her newest girlfriend, politely ignoring the sexual moan the rush of sugary chemical cocktail caused in her prey.

“Sexier plans than you, Buster Brown,” she told the overconfident herm supervisor.

Madison, on the other hand, was unusually pent-up and had been unreasonably turned on by the kiss. “I don’t know, Serena. She could be fun too,” the cute little prey suggested shyly.

Well that would be a bit of a challenge. Chads like this one liked to go home full every night and could easily slurp up a 69ing pair fresh off of orgasm before they knew what was going on.

Serena liked a challenge. It made victory just that much sweeter when it came.

“Well then,” she said, standing up and blatantly groping the designated prey-slut who was dead either way. “Let’s get ourselves slippery while we wait for a sausage, shall we?”

Madison followed so eagerly that Serena never even got the chance to stop groping the pretty little prey. Honestly, how morsels like this lasted long enough for factory work was beyond her. She’d barely made it past college and even that had been a freak chance involving a genuinely nice pred who wanted sex more than food.

She had Madison’s shirt off by the time they were out of sight of peeping cameras, not that the woman seemed to care about watchers anymore. The Good Snacks© did that to a person, even if they tended to do little more than make fellow preds horny. This particular meal was caught in the prey-haze of death and would stay there until final regrets and beyond, if she even made it that far. Her pants coming off necessitated her falling to the ground, but that just made her pant with pent-up lust.

“You really need this, don’t you?” Serena Hemlock said with her trademark smirk. Madison just moaned something that could be a yes if you could find a way to squint your ears.

Serena shoved a clenched fist in raw as her only response to that. It went in so deep Madison’s nubile body began unbirthing contractions involuntarily and started clenching seductively around the new intrusion upon its form.

“Ooh honey, just like that…deeper,” was all Madison could say. Serena then noticed a glint on her right ring finger. She made a mental note to pick through the shit later for that, wedding bands sold extra with genuine caked-on shit when you knew the right prey-sluts. And Serena made a habit of knowing such sluts in all the ways that mattered. No matter how many she ate, they just kept crawling back to their benevolent mistress. She loved them for it, and couldn’t help but share her love, nor could they help but bask in her warm embrace of tantalizing death.

Speaking of loves, her elbow passed casually into Madison’s gaped orifice as footsteps slapped the ground behind her, purposefully louder than they should have been. Serena smirked. Too predictable.

“I got her ready for you,” she said in flirty, breathless tones, effortlessly freeing her arm from Madison’s helpless cunt in a single, smooth motion.

“Ooh, you I’ll keep, slut snack!” the herm said, kneeling down to take her prey in the foreplay dance of predators everywhere: rough dominant sex to show them who’s boss. Her sizeable cock had definitely taken more than one today alone, by the way it stretched that elasticated little hole.

Serena used the opportunity to remove her clothing and fingered herself a touch to get her own juices flowing as she prepared herself to strike, fondling her boobs visibly and carefully in front of ChadBuster’s affixed gaze and sitting casually on Madison’s face to reduce both visibility and oxygen as it flowed to the thinking parts of the prey-slut’s brain. Then she leaned forward and brought ChadBuster’s hands to her breasts to keep her in the mood as she prepared herself to strike. Underneath her Madison moaned in ecstasy. In front of her ChadBuster grunted churlishly as she tried to hold in the remnants of her last meal.

And then, in one fell swoop, with a hand on each woman’s chest, Serena groped them both to the brink of la petite mort and beyond, capping off their orgasmic experience by thrusting down, hard, and swallowing ChadBuster’s head the usual way as the horny fool leaned in for a kiss.

Madison eagerly thrust her hands into Serena’s waiting cunt alongside her head, too caught up in the moment to question anything and heavily invested in pleasuring her way back to breathable air. ChadBuster just sighed in something like relief and went with the flow, twitching occasionally as she unloaded liters of baby batter into the useless and doomed womb beneath her.

As Chadbuster’s elbows entered her mouth, Serena allowed herself a very stretched out smile. Round 107 goes to the visiting team, ladies, she thought to herself. This one is dedicated to my favorite prey-slut yet, the one who thought climbing into a vagina was a good idea after a hint of flirting and a monstrous dicking.

She’d barely had to do any work at all, on this one.

As ChadBuster was pulled out of Madison’s gaping cunt she moaned in displeasure, so Serena obligingly jerked her off until she reached her lips, then took over with a well-practiced tongue. Her mouth filled with the unborn children of her second unexpected meal of the day, and she groaned in delighted orgasm as Madison’s upper half became lubricant to hastily slurp up the rest of her.

She’d had to practice for ages to get the timing on that trick right, but oh was it worth it. Two whole prey at once stretched her figure in ways that failed to flatter and scared off all the fun prey-sluts for good…until they got eaten and replaced by someone else.

As the toes of her hermy meal slipped past her lips, she belched and farted out her air in a long-practiced and brutally efficient move. Gut-slut privileges were reserved for willing prey, and ChadBuster definitely wasn’t that, so she could die quickly on just two orgasms. Madison was an unfortunate casualty in the process of claiming her bonus prize, but by Serena’s count she’d cum three times including one right as her brain literally went to mush, so she’d probably died happier than most.

Serena actually envied her, a little bit. She done this enough times to start admitting as much to herself again, and to revel in that fact.

When she showed up for work the next day, she went straight to the boss’s office after clocking in. The two had worked out an unspoken deal about such displays when they inevitably happened off-campus. She’d thoroughly and vigorously work off the ‘delicious’ chub he liked to grope as she ‘worked’ and he’d give her a bonus for ‘diligent attention to detail,’ as usual.

As his familiar dick penetrated her deep to her core and probed all of her weak points, she resolved to never, ever, let this paradise of hers come to an end. The boss had ‘unhired’ at least two workers since their last session (probably for the crime of glancing at their phones on the job) and their added girth was good enough to suck on no matter how it tasted. It wasn’t much, but she’d learned to take her pleasure where she could and find it anew where she could take no more.

It’s not like she’d miss Ricky or Bobby, anyhow. They’d been the kind of jerks who looked at their phone instead of doing their job, unlike her. She looked at her phone while doing her job and thus maintained total moral superiority over their gigachad, overconfident, and newly-liquidated asses.
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Re: Factory Workers

Postby Ryan-Drakel » Thu Jun 23, 2022 8:50 pm

Please ensure that extreme things like SCAT and scatological references are WARNED about prior to reading.

It killed everything for me.
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