EXECUTIVE STRESS

Jane hurried into the store room, to fetch the replacement bulb to the overhead projector. “Why didn’t Audio Visual check this”, she wondered and she searched feverishly for the bulb. She had planned for months to show her novel acquisition plan to the Board, and now could not even turn on the projector. Luckily, a bulb slipped out from a carton, and she was back to the conference room.

“Ladies and Gentlemen”, she announced, “Today is a plan to rescue our ….”.  Jane continued and went step by step through the financial approach that would alleviate a potential bankruptcy situation for the company.  She had worked many months to create the plan, and gain the approval of the middle management layer. Her tone was perfect, she was satisfied, and the presentation seemed to go well. She left the room, while the board deliberated. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, they called her in to provide their feedback. Instead of a decision, there were more questions and requests for information. While her proposal had not failed, Jane now had additional responsibilities and duties that would lead to even more stress.

She rushed back to her office to get to work. Quickly, she reviewed the 28 emails waiting for her. Most were small issues, but nonetheless, they needed her attention. The last email was from Marge, Jane’s best friend from high school. It was just a quick note, saying, “Lunch on Thursday?”.  It was three days away, so Jane was unsure whether her proposal requirements would prevent her from going. But, she clicked the confirm button, and her luncheon appointment.

At 8pm, the day finally ended, Jane went home with 3 hours of work. She looked around her new apartment, paid for by the large bonus received for the last year. Hurriedly, into the microwave went some sort of vegetable dish. While it cooked, Jane started to review the proposal again, and address what seemed like a thousand other issues. After dinner, around 11pm, Jane made her to bed to prepare for the next day.

This night, however, Jane couldn’t fall to sleep right away.  She began to wonder if she was doing the right things. She was moving quickly through the corporation, but somehow did not feel fulfilled or satisfied. Her hectic schedule meant men were out of the question. Yes, she had dated a few, but found them a burden. She would be the one ending up deciding the evening’s activities, the restaurant, and even the mode of transportation. Jane started to long for a situation where things happened, and she could just go along and not be the decision-maker.  Before she knew it, the snooze alarm went off, and another busy day began.

Finally, Thursday arrived, and Jane met Marge at the Alcorn diner. It was a nice little diner, where patrons could sit in secluded spots and really converse.  Marge, as always, arrived 10 minutes, blaming another emergency situation on her 3 children.  Marge to seem be always busy with some issue with the children, while her husband Mark, seemed oblivious to their plights. Both women could commiserate about having a lot of stress, even though it came from different sources.

Jane excitedly told Marge about the new apartment, and her recent promotion at the corporation.  Even though Jane was jubilant, Marge detected an air about Jane that was different. To Marge, Jane seemed frustrated with her situation, though happy on some levels. After some more details about Jane’s recent actions, Marge asked , “Jane , are you happy inside?”.  Jane stuttered and replied, “Of course, I have worked to earn these things”. Marge quickly responded, “but are you truly happy?”.  Jane could say yes, nor did she want to say no. Her non response, though, was enough for Marge to know the answer.

Marge took a hold of Jane’s hand. “Jane, you need a stress reliever. I felt the same way when the children were younger.  A neighbor suggested the PG exercise camp to me.  I went and now am almost stress free!”. Marge removed her hand from Jane’s and toyed nervously with a small ring on her right hand little finger. Jane asked, “What is this PG exercise camp about?”.  Marge looked away and then back into Jane’s eyes. “It’s a special place, that is hard to describe.  Those of us who have been there, do not discuss it in public. It is very different..very special. You will lose weight, including the weight on your shoulders coming from stress”

Jane noticed that Marge’s demeanor completely changed. Jane continued to probe, but Marge would provide no details. Marge then reached into her purse and pulled a card. “Take this, call the number and ask for Karen”.  Jane took the card out of politeness,  and changed the focus of the conversation to the dessert cart.

That night as Jane waded through another pile of papers, the PG card slipped out of the stack. It was already 8pm, much too late Jane thought for an exercise camp, whatever that was.  But she called anyway, and was shocked when a sweet feminine voice answered the phone. Jane mumbled, “Is Karen there?”.  The next voice was a harder female voice who simply said “Yes?”.

“Uh, my name is ..uh..Jane. My friend Marge Sampson referred me to you”, Jane said anxiously.

“Very well , be here Saturday at 9am, the old Wilson ranch on Route 231 North.”  Jane was just about to ask some questions, when she heard a click. She was quite taken back, and couldn’t believe a business would be so rude to its customers. However, Jane was intrigued, and thought she should go to see what kind of business could operate that way.

The end of week went as usual, and Jane awoke a bit later than usual on Saturday. At first she began to plan her day around modifying the acquisition proposal, but the remembered the PG exercise camp appointment.  She quickly threw on some sweats, and headed north to the ranch. Jane knew it was a large expansive piece of land that used to be a setting for television shows based in the Old West. She had never taken a tour when it was in use, and in fact was surprised that anyone was using it now.

As she approached the gate, she saw two large horse statues on their hind legs and she drove in. However, upon closer inspection, she saw female human heads instead of the horses’ heads. She thought that was odd, but considered it a testament to the funky art of the day. After driving a mile down a driveway, a sign say “reception” pointed to the left. Jane slowly drove that direction and parked in “visitor” designated parking.

Jane nervously left the safe confines of her car, and entered the reception area. It was 9:08. Before the door could be fully opened by Jane, a middle aged woman met her. “9:08 is not 9:00” the woman said. Jane smiled nervously and said there had been some traffic, and that she hadn’t been there before. “Nonetheless, this will be noted”. Jane felt uncomfortable, but said in the chair pointed to by the woman.

“Ok, Ms. Jane Johnson, 32 years old, stress program…is that right?”, the woman read without looking at Jane.

“Uh…yes, that is correct”, mumbled Jane.

“Ok, Sheila will see to you now. You will be here until 3pm, is that acceptable?”, the woman said again without looking at Jane.

“Well I didn’t expect to be here that long , but ok”, replied Jane.

After a few minutes, a young woman came into the room and introduced herself as Sheila. She led Jane through a series of hallways to a room, where there was a training table.

“Here, wear this..”, said Sheila , handing her a one-piece exercise suit. Jane put it on, and was surprised how form fitting it was. It covered her just barely, but was not what one might say as skimpy.

“Lay down here” , commanded Sheila, pointing to the training table.

Jane obliged, and laid on her stomach. Shelia then proceeded to give Jane the best back massage she ever could imagine. Working her fingers deeply into each bulge of skin, Sheila took all the angst out of Jane.  It was clearly the best experience Jane had had, in several months.

“Now some stretching”, announced Sheila. She had Jane stand, and put her arms behind her back. After bending Jane in different directions, Sheila produced an odd piece of clothing, as least Jane thought , from a gym bag. Actually it was an arm sleeve.

“Here this will help with your stretching”, said Sheila and she used the arm sleeve to pin both arms behind Jane’s back. Jane felt a bit helpless, but felt that it would assist in the stretching.

Then Jane was shocked to see Sheila pull out a chain. Sheila took the chain and attached it a gold ring at the bottom of the sleeve holding Jane’s arms behind her back. She attached the chain to a ring in the sleeve and a ring on the wall.

Before Jane could say anything, Sheila said, “Your groom will be here shortly”.

“What does that mean?”, shouted Jane. “What do you mean groom?”. Jane twisted a bit and shouted, “Take this off of me”.

Suddenly, a young man about 19 or 20 came into the room.  He was well over 6 fit and had an athletic build.

“Hello, my name is Tim”, said the boy to Jane.

“I don’t care who you are, get this off of me NOW”, bellowed Jane.

With that, a quick sharp pain shot through Jane’s buttocks. Tim has used a riding crop on her nearly exposed butt cheek.

“Yee ooooowwww”, cried Jane at the slap.  Tim quickly rubbed it and said “Now be a good girl”.

Jane was mortified by his touch. She didn’t know whether to scream or cry.

“Don’t touch me you…”, but before she could finish , another slap silenced her.

“Now you can continue to behave foolishly and be cropped or become polite”, lectured Tim.

Some more unpleasant remarks came from Jane, each met with another crop stroke.

Jane was now beside herself. She felt humiliated, pained, exasperated and embarrassed. Here was a virtual teenager, cropping her at will.

Finally, Jane decided to take another tack.

“Tim, it is nice to meet you. Now I have to go, please undo the chain and everything will be fine”, Jane said calmly.

“Oh, everything is fine..but refer to me as Master Tim.. here, ok?” , Tim replied raising the crop.

“Tim, lets not be silly…”. These words were met with a harder slap that caused Jane to buckle at the knees. She started to cry, and then moved into rhythmic sobs. Tim leaned over her, rubbed her bottom, and dried her tears with a Kleenex.

“Now, now”, admonished Tim. “Just behave, follow directions and lose that stress you carry around. I am here to help you.”

“Yeah right”, mumbled Jane. These words were met with another crop stroke.

“You will refer to me as Master Tim, understand”, lectured Tim.

“Oooo kk”, whimpered Jane.

“Ok what”, pressed Tim.

“Ok , Master Tim”, Jane finally said. Tim gave her a big smile and an hug. Strangely, Jane felt some joy at making him happy.

“Now walk in place for me “, commanded Tim. Jane shuffled her feet a bit. However, Tim used the crop to raise her legs.

“Quicker”, pressed Tim. Soon Jane was walking in place, raising her legs higher.

“Now arch your back and stick those tits out”, commanded Tim. Jane stopped and gave him a glare. Jane had always been sensitive about her 34a or 34b depending upon the time of month boob size.  But Tim raised the crop, and Jane arched her back to emphasize her chest. Jane almost couldn’t believe she was doing it. Tim gave her a smile and some compliments, which again surprised Jane at how good those compliments felt.

“Yes”, Tim said, “I will make you a fine ponygirl”…