Classy wife was once a small town slut
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Classy ConversionsChapter 20 free porn video
After a careful review of the law, Carol suggested that Margaret would take Helen with her to H&S to look at the plant and see how much would have to be changed to make it more process friendly. Accompanying her would be Marty Burke, going back to his old haunts. Before they went, David got a copy of a proposed agreement to cover the fact that Helen would be on "Findlay" property. Just in case Margaret was not visible and an inspector was on site, the legal protections would be in place.
David was going to follow later, after he had made sure that things were smooth at the office.
Helen was surprised how she felt leaving the building for the first time in over six weeks. She had never felt agoraphobic before, but she did feel like she was leaving a safe haven when she got into Margaret's car. Being nude didn't help.
Stopping in front of H&S at nine thirty was a grim experience. There was little parking, and the front windows were barred. The entrance door was a massive turnstile with capture grates on once side and a glass door with bullet resistant glass inside. Entering the small and cramped reception, they were greeted by two of H&S's employees.
"Goat has to be put into a shock collar," the older one said. "Our rules."
"Excuse me. My name is Margaret Findley. And you are?"
"None of your business bitch. If you are a sow like this one, then you get collared too. If not then you can wait here."
At this time, Marty Burke interjected "Ms. Findlay, this fine specimen is Peter Star. Behind him is Carl Barkley. Gentlemen, this is the new general manager."
"Bull shit. No one is putting no cow in charge here." Peter said. "Marty, you were canned and I am the Ops Manager here. Soon as the boss get's down, you guys will get straightened out."
"Ok. No problem. Let me call Jack." Margaret said while casually reaching into her pocket.
"And you get over here pig. I told you that you need a collar." Peter said while reaching for Helen.
Sliding the EST gun out from her pocket, Margaret calmly shot Peter in the shoulder, and held the trigger down while the darts flowed energy through his body. Looking casually at Carl Barkley, she remarked, "I have a second charge here if you are interested. Or you could go and get Jack while I keep this puppy dancing on the end of the rope here."
Seeing Marty pulling a stun baton from his pocket, Carl figured that discretion was the better part of valor. And ran to the office to get his boss.
Jack was thus entertained by the sight of his manager lying on the floor, Margaret holding the EST that was sending shocks into him on a regular jolt, and a naked Helen writing notes down on her electronic tablet.
"I see you got here. Any problems?" Jack asked.
"Nothing that I could not handle. Do I need a lawyer, or do you care to explain to this fish what is going on?" Margaret asked.
"Sure. Peter, I see you have met your new general manager, Margaret Findlay. And you have also met her advisors Helen and Marty Burke. Do you feel you can stand up?"
"That bitch shot me."
"I didn't see anything. Did you see anything, Marty?" Margaret asked.
"No I didn't see anything. Did you slip, Peter?" Marty asked. "Or did you let a woman get the drop on you?"
"Jack, would you like to show us around?" Margaret asked. "I think I would like to see the rest of the building while Peter here gets his bearings and thinks about where he is going to work after today."
The remainder of the tour was depressing. There was an upstairs with a dozen rooms, most of which were filled with clutter, old furniture, and dirty mattresses. The processing room was immediately inside of the door behind the reception room. Dark hallways with dirty rugs led down past four inspection rooms and into a zigzag set of stations where seats for shaving, scales, and a queue led to a set of hoists and a trolley system that was in full view of the women in the queue. Wash-down hoses extended behind a area for field dressing which had barrels which were on wheels to be moved around as needed. The more she looked, the sicker Margaret got. Probably the sickest was the live spitting machines that Merle had designed. The only cheerful sight of those was the sight of two workmen unbolting them from the floors in preparation for removal.
Equally depressing were the looks of the men at Margaret and Helen. Except for Tim and Gus, none of the men knew what to expect. Marty was an excellent guide around the facility, and by ten o'clock, Margaret had seen enough of the facility to be able to outline what she felt needed changing.
"And I have a set of chairs in the office for you to conduct interviews" Jack said. "Who do you want to see when?"
"I will let Helen do most of the interviews. I will meet with the architect and your contractor about the modifications we need to build. Marty, stick with Helen in case we have another Peter around here."
Before lunchtime, Helen was ready to scream. David arrived after her last interview and brought lunch. The combination of hunger and frustration was almost enough to cause Helen to start to be a throat cutter. Male throats.
'Tim, Gus, and about eight others are worth keeping. The rest should be locked up as psychos. This place is a house of horrors. Three of them told me that I should be either on my back, my knees, or on a spit. And they wondered why the interview was only two minutes." Helen said between bites of her sandwich.
"The architect told me that all of the demising walls had open windows put into them to give a grand view from the front to the hangers in the back. Because people wanted to see the meat hanging while it was being cut." Margaret said. "And Merle stood in the line and pulled women out to be processed alive in front of everyone."
"And these guys thought that was normal" Helen said. "Which is what makes this even worse."
"And you had to walk by a dressing table watching women being cut up while you were walking to the processing stand." Margaret said. "David, I want to string Merle up, but I don't know how to keep him alive long enough to do to him what I want to do."
"So how many do we keep of the existing employees?" David asked.
"For our purposes, eight maybe. Here are the dossiers for the keepers, but I want Margaret to interview them again just in case my appearance caused any problems." Helen said.
"You just want me to suffer too." Margaret said.
"No. You are the boss. I am just the meat. According to most of them."
"Got it. I interview them, say "Thank you we will call you" and then they can hate me for throwing them out." Margaret said.
"No. Some of them may not associate a nude woman in a collar as being human. I think that was what Merle was training them for." Helen said.
"Well, if they can't do that now, I don't want to have to retrain them. But I will talk to them." Margaret said.
Margaret's pass of interviews was not much better than Helen's. Peter was the worst, with Carl right behind him. The rest were differing grades of antagonistic. The exception was the union steward, George Harkness. He was calm and said that the paperwork for grievances would bury him for a month, but he would not take anything Margaret did personal. He was the one most likely to be kept, according to Helen.
"George, do you have problems taking orders from a woman?" Margaret asked.
"I have been married for twenty seven years. What do you think, Ms. Findlay?"
"You have problems with taking orders from one wearing a collar?" Margaret asked.
"We didn't have that sort of arrangement here. But I can adapt." George responded.
"I think we are going to get along. George, get your grievance forms out. Because only you and seven others are staying. The others flunked the interview. This is now a new business. Union contract comparable to Findlay is being honored. Here is a copy."
"Got it. You paying unemployment?"
"No problems with that and separation of three months full pay, health benefits for six. But that is the final offer. Anything more goes to court."
"You telling them?" George asked.
"One at a time. Starting right after you. I am asking that you get a seat in the front room and bring your union stuff with you so they can depart."
"Door in the front room does not go out except through the emergency exit. It hasn't been opened since I got here." George said.
"Well the emergency door is now the main door. That revolving mess is coming out."
"Job classifications?" George asked.
"Here is the contract. You look it over and call Marty Robinson at our place. He will fill you in." Margaret said.
"Ok. I will set up in reception."
The next hour was spent collecting keys, boxing up lockers, giving the departing employees their last checks and forms for severance and walking them out the door. Margaret did each and every one of them. The incident with Peter had circulated and there were no fireworks. Those employees who would be retained were told that they would remain on the payroll during reconstruction, and that they would have orientation in the new processes at the Findlay plant starting tomorrow. George was given directions and told to check up with Marty Robinson about lockers and space for personal goods and uniforms.
David and Helen returned to Findlay's in the mid-afternoon leaving Margaret to catch a ride back with Jack Stienhauer.
Return for ReviewCarla Davenport had called down to Findlay's at nine o'clock asking if she could speak to Candy. When she was told that Candy was taking a group around, and that she would be back soon, she was relieved. Candy had been very good to her two weeks ago, and now was the time to go back and have her pregnancy checked for sex. Knowing that this was probably her last day, she had asked her father to drive her, since she didn't really want to do public transportation. And her mother was in no shape to drive her. Making an appointment for three o'clock, she spent the remainder of the day cleaning up and tidying up things.
Charlie Davenport was a bundle of emotions. Knowing all of the dirty facts of what was the law, he could not shake off his feeling that he had failed. Somehow his daughter should not have to be going through this. This was just not fair.
The trip was quiet and the hugs at the doorway were real. Charlie didn't know how or what was going on, only that his daughter felt comfortable here.
Coming into the reception area, there were very few women there. Most were sitting in small groups working on documents of some type. Carla had hers from two weeks ago, and walked up to the desk where a nude woman in a goat collar was sitting. "Hi Helen. Is Candy around?"
"Hello Carla. Good to see you. She is down with a group. She should be back in a few minutes. Would you like to take a seat and relax?"
"Sure. This is my dad. He drove me down. Could he wait around?"
"Sure if you want. The coffee is fresh and so is the fruit juice. Why don't you get a seat over there and when Candy comes up, I will send her over to you."
Sitting with his daughter, Charlie could not get over how quiet the place was. A dark haired woman came out of the door marked "Office" and walked over to Helen. They talked for a few moments and Helen pointed her over to the last group near the door marked Exams. She walked over to them and sat down. Charlie noticed that she was nude as well as Helen was.
After a few moments, the women all stood up, gathered their purses and followed the nude woman down the hallway. There were very few people still here.
Helen walked over to the last group and went over their papers with them. Then the group with her got up and walked out the door. Charlie had a hard time reconciling what was going on. Evidently these women had come in early.
Helen came over after she escorted the remaining ones out and sat at the table with Charlie and Carla.
"So, how have you been?" Helen began.
"Fine. I was afraid that I wouldn't know anyone when I came back."
"We are still here. And I want to thank you for your blog. We really aren't that great. But you sure did make us seem like it."
"You are. You all were so gentle and quiet and kind. I never felt scared. Even when Candy said that the people we had talked with were gone, it was like disconnected. I knew what he was saying, but it didn't seem so bad. Does that make sense?"
"I understand. It isn't easy, but we try to make it so. So, what have you been doing?"
Stevie
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