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Bitter Truth	By : InnocentIntentions Category: M through R > The Office Views: 5313 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The Office (U.S.) © adapted by Greg Daniels; produced by Deddle-Dee Productions, Shine America & Universal Television. I do not claim copyright or ownership of the characters, show-related content nor am I profiting in anyway.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
Notes:

Happy New Years and best wishes for this coming 2015! In celebration, here is the 6th chapter of Bitter Truth. Thank you so much for your patience and as usual, look forward to the next update!
I have been delighted by all the reviews I have received, keep them pouring in - its so much fun to hear what you think about certain scenes!
Copyright:
The Office (U.S.) © Adapted by Greg Daniels; produced by Deedle-Dee Productions, Shine America & Universal Television. I do not claim copyright or ownership of the characters, show-related content nor am I profiting in anyway.

   Giant and menacing, a nozzle connected to the unknown device reeled out. The instrument featured a large head, opened wide like a vacuum. A valve, shoved against the barn wall, connected the cord-like apparatus. Manifold gadgets and levers glinted through shadow, lighting up a regulator that blinked harshly in the darkness. The control device fanned outwards in a stream of pipes which issued from central machinery. White storage vats huddled together besides a carbon steel compressor station which eerily cradled the nozzle’s base into its core. The syringe rolling towards the crate, whatever its original function, was meant for the sacrificial lamb warily observing the bizarre procession.
   Setting the hose on the ground near his feet, Dwight immediately returned his focus onto Jim’s chest. Once discarding all superfluous cloth, he rubbed up the smooth torso,
   “Ah you have such creamy skin. Do you ever get outside?” The question was not one of interest, rather dull admiration. However, Jim took it defensively,
   “It’s the middle of November, not sunny enough to get my tan on.”
   “Psshh-like you tan!” A deep belly laugh came outright as Dwight felt the curve of a deltoid, “Don’t worry, your pallor is illuminating.”
   “You just described a light bulb. Ummpph!” Jim contested, straining when his left breast was flicked in a passing warning. Dwight wordlessly vaulted to Jim’s skull. Two fingers gradually pushed into his jaw, the pressure forcing the mouth apart.
   “Hmm yes, straight teeth.” Leather featuring a horse bit swept around his jowl, locking into place at the base of his hairline. The cold metal stung. The girth was too large and tasted of dried spittle. He mawed, attempting to hurl it out until a fist furiously ripped Jim’s head to the side by his hair,
   “Tut, tut, tut, a beast of burden must obey its master. Speaking of horses, you have a lovely curled mane.” Jim cringed out of the grip, eyes glowering with indignation. Dwight pleasantly chided, “Calm down. I’m almost done. I just need to finish a quick analysis of your health.”
   Arranging the ropes, Dwight made sure all knots were secure before gripping two thin pipes. The suction tubes clamped onto Jim’s nipples, causing him to exhale at the cold surprise.
   “An almost perfect specimen.” Dwight commented before conceding, “Although I must admit, average breasts.”
   “I’m a man, Dwight!” Jim shouted around the bit, his sentence distorted by metal and merged with shame.
   “Let’s not kid ourselves.” Thin lips twisted in amusement as he patted Jim’s thigh playfully once before striding over to the machine,
   “Alright, everything’s in place. The milking process will ignite in three, two…one.”

The contraption hummed on cue. Pistons on the pumping station chugged into life, incessantly pounding away into white vats awaiting sustenance.
   “You know, I have been pondering whether I should start up a new line of work. I want to buy a few dozen heifers and create a new milk production company. It would be a very unique brand, might I add. Sadly, I have no way of knowing if the machine is ready for operations yet.” Green-flecked irises flickered over to the counter, eager to witness a much expected reaction. He slyly drew the main tube to the tabletop, all the while indicating something horrid, “Due to complications, I had a tough decision to make. See, Schrute Farms currently lacks a bovine populace. So you will serve in their place.”
   Floored by the revelation, Jim’s jaw dropped. The machine behind him was a dairy processing engine. And he was to be the cow.
   “Isn’t she exquisite?” Scoffing at Jim’s silence, he proceeded to grip the man’s crotch, “You don’t appreciate beauty.” Flustered and at a loss, Jim shifted wildly the second greasy hands alighted onto the zipper of his tweed pants. Easily yanking down the fastener, material ripped away. The closure torn, a flat button popped off with the effort. A hand dipped below powder blue boxers seeking the lean physique of Jim Halpert.
   Exposed, Jim flushed. Heat rose to his ears, tingeing them a light pink. The throbbing hum of his heart crowded out all thought. Freeing the flaccid organ, Dwight firmly gripped the base in order to draw it to the strange nozzle. Grotesque mortification churned his bones upon the realization that Dwight intended to milk him.
   Squirming prior to being set up, kneecaps jutted into Dwight’s midsection. Dislodged for but a moment, the man was atop again, shoving Jim down by the use of hooks. Klatches secured to the end of rope dug into the opposing leather, aligning over his torso in a multi crisscross fashion like a pie lattice. Suction tubes previously arranged onto Jim’s bare chest wavered throughout the mêlée. Forced into place, the member was swallowed by a clear tube as it entered the machine.
   Vocal chords tightened due to a navy tie still hanging loosely about Jim’s own neck as it rolled upwards. Once the material balled up, Dwight fiercely jabbed fingers into Jim’s cheeks, forcing the swollen jaw open past the metal bit. Pearls transformed into daggers as Jim swiftly twisted his head, freeing his chin long enough to bite down. But Dwight had learned his mistake from last time. The hand pulled away instinctively before contact could be made. Yet it was back a second later with a medium brooch. The clothing pin pinched harshly as it clamped over the circular tube positioned across Jim’s right breast. With unrelenting pressure, Jim felt as though the nipple might be shorn clean off by the squeezing wood.
   Screaming in shock, Jim’s preoccupation gave ample room for Dwight to resume the plunge. Stuffing anything into the declining mouth would have taken a bit of effort for the young man thrashed like a fish refusing to be hooked.
   “Since you’re so high maintenance, here Queen Halpert…maybe this’ll shut you up.”
   Managing to push the fabric entirely behind raging teeth, Dwight used a palm to hold Jim’s lips shut while he slipped his own mustard tie down from the bridge of his prisoner’s nose. Securing the silk across a tie-filled mouth, the dual strips formed a rough gag across the horse harness already restraining Jim’s head.
   Jim was livid. His tongue arched against the roof of his mouth, attempting to create more space around the protrusion within the moist cave hampered additionally by a cold bar. Dozens of cotton balls seemed to have been stockpiled in his throat. Breathing was difficult and unpleasant, comparable to treading through a lukewarm marsh. Outcries muffled, the Polish man opted to glower up at the one who dared to besmirch his personhood.
   It all seemed like one huge game to Dwight. Ecstatically he grinned, the power trip swelling his oversized ego. The whole situation was perfect. Nothing could make him happier than to see Jim huddled at his feet, unable to resist the inevitable fate which loomed at the forefront of Dwight’s vision. Drumming the tip of Jim’s nose, the ruddy features of Dwight Schrute beamed,
   “The fun’s about to start Jimmy. Shall we begin?”
- 5
- 6
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Bitter Truth

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