Abby's Revenge

Abby came so hard she fell unconscious, so she had no way of knowing how she came to find herself hanging half out of pleasure in the machine. Her breathing had slowed and she had recovered her senses sufficiently by the time she was aware that the sculpture had somehow shifted and spat her out. In fact, she seemed to be hanging out the exact hole she had entered earlier in the day, when she had let her curiosity get the better of her.

Her earlier urgency had left her by this time, and she took her time lowering her trembling, naked body to the ground. Her knees were still shaky, her cum still rolling down her inner thighs when she stood up on the floor of the storeroom once more. She didn't care how much time had passed or if her replacement would come in and see her stark naked, she was much too tired to be care. Abby waddled to her clothes and pulled them on, shaking as her panties brushed her still sensitive pussy and ass.

After what seemed like an eternity, she was dressed. She could smell the muskiness of her juices in the still air of the storeroom, but otherwise, everything looked just the way it did when she first entered. She stumbled to the storeroom to restart the security tape, and was pretty much done by the time her replacement came in.

To her surprise, it was Craig. Maybe he got the short shrift from the chief too. She didn't know why, and... she was surprised to find that she didn't care too. Her legs were still weak and she could almost hear her pussy squelch when she walked up to him to handover the duties.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and for a moment, Abby believed that he still cared. The moment was fleeting, however, and a sudden coldness settled in her mind. "The uncaring, deceiving bastard!" she thought to herself. "I'd like to show you what it's like to be fucked over like you did me!"

The words suddenly sprang unbidden from her mouth. Abby was surprised because she hadn't even planned on saying them, but the moment they left her lips, she was glad.

"Craig, I know I haven't been behaving well lately. I'm sorry about that," her eyes on him were steady, earnest. "There's something you should know about that sculpture, pleasure in the machine..."

"Yes, what is it?" he gave her his best lopsided grin, the one that she used to think was charming, but which now sickened her.

"I think someone may have dropped something valuable inside. I saw it just now, as you were coming in. I don't know what it is, but it sparkles..."

"So what do you think it is, then?" he asked in his usual irritating fashion. He had a habit of asking her questions of things she had already given him answers to.

"I don't know... it could be diamonds or something. Look, there's nothing stated in the documents here, so..."

"So if I find it, no one will know?" his eyes sparkled. That was his other major fault -- he was all into me, me, me... she couldn't ever recall him mentioning "us", unless it had to do with sharing debts or blame. He would never have been able to commit to a stable relationship... why had she wasted time on him?

"Yes," she replied simply. "I'd go get it myself, but my time is up, I have a ton of things to do and you know how the chief is about us keeping our schedules..."

"Are you sure you don't want to get the diamonds?" Craig was almost salivating at the thought. Abby felt a little sorry for him, then realized that he meant for her to go get the diamonds while he waited outside. No more favours from me, Craiggy.

"No, I can't... I have a few appointments to view flats. It's ok, you go ahead."

"OK then, you know what they say, finders keepers!" Craig smiled happily at her. He usually expected her to give in to him, and she hadn't expected any offer of a share anyway.

"Yes, go get 'em tiger!" she punched him on the shoulder a little too hard and he staggered a bit. She hadn't noticed how slender he was. Craig was almost sylph-like... he would probably have less trouble getting into pleasure in the machine than she had.

Abby closed the door behind her and went up to the locker room for a slow shower, giving him a good one and a half hours or so. After drying her hair and getting dressed, she sauntered back to the storeroom and stood outside the door listening. She smiled to herself when she heard him calling for help, and had to stifle her guffaws when his voice rose to a womanly scream. Pleasure in the machine certainly did live up to its name.