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After years of working the line at the Cobbler Manufacturing factory, Will’s starting to feel the aches and pains of a truly terrible job. The worst of these aches? His butt.

Will goes to investigate, but is surprised to discover the business card of Krocko Ripple, a triceratops union organizer. Krocko instructs him to meet deep within his own butt, and soon enough Will is on a journey of discovery.

It seems the workers of Will’s prostate are under equally bad working conditions, and it’s up to Will to help them unionize. Soon enough, Will is embarking on a hardcore erotica adventure what will help everyone create a safer, happier and healthier work environment... deep within his own butt.

This erotic tale is 4,000 words of sizzling human on gay triceratops union organizer action, including anal, blowjobs, rough sex, and hardcore dinosaur-fighting-for-better-working-conditions love.

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NOTE: The tingler is free to all. If you would like to support the efforts of the Amazon Labor Union you can donate here 

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UNIONIZED IN THE BUTT AND NOW EVERYONE IS SAFER, HAPPIER AND BETTER PAID

By Chuck Tingle

The ache doesn’t announce itself all at once, slowly creeping in over a matter of weeks. It’s more sinister this way, avoiding detection until the point at which this pain has fully ingrained itself in my daily life. My stride has started to change, a faint limp that grows slightly more pronounced with every passing step.

These days, it’s undeniable.

I sit up in my chair, a spark of curiosity erupting through my mind as I grapple with an unexpected sensation. Standing up, I gaze down at the seat below me, struggling to determine whether or not there’s been a change in the structure.

“Hey Harry?” I call out. “Did corporate switch our chairs out for new ones?”

My friend glances over from his place on the factory line, then glances down at his own chair. “What do you mean? Like buy us new chairs?”

“Yeah,” I reply.

My friend hesitates a moment, then erupts in a fit of laughter. “You mean spend money on us out of the kindness of their own hearts? I don’t think so, Will.”

He’s right to laugh. The working conditions here at Cobbler Manufacturing are notoriously bad, and the concept of them upgrading our chairs is a little silly.

Still, I can’t help but think something has changed.

I sit down again, then stand up, repeating this process a few times before stopping to consider my findings.

“You okay over there?” Harry questions, watching me work through this bizarre mystery. “You’re gonna waste your whole break playing musical chairs.”

He’s right, I should use these precious minutes to relax a bit or use the restroom, but once my curiosity is piqued it’s difficult to tear myself away. I tend to get hyper focused on these things, unable to let them go.

BEEP!

A loud, dissonant chime rings out through the factory, alerting us it’s time to start the next shift. This is only the third of twenty segments that make up my work day. So I’m gonna be here a while.

It’s not long before this tone is followed by another familiar noise, the slow, revving build of an enormous machine churning back to life. The conveyer belt creeps along at an exponential pace, and soon enough a cascade of cylinders begin to drift past me. They’re just waiting for me to take them to the next stage of production.

This factory is designed to manufacture spaghetti mugs, the perfect tool for those who crave spaghetti on the go. The process is simple enough, but every step must be performed with expert precision if you’d like the outcome to work.

My job along this long line of tasks is to take a tiny handle and slide it into position on each cylinder, creating a way to hold each mug. To an outside observer this minor duty might seem like an easy job, and it probably would be if I were only making one mug. However, after several hours of this horrifically monotonous activity, it becomes a mighty contest of will that few can sustain.

I’ve been doing this a long time, so I’ve gotten pretty good at it, but by the end of the day I still go home with a headache.

Never a butt ache, though.

As I continue slipping handles onto their cylinders my mind begins to drift, unable to shake the strange feeling that something significantly bizarre is happening to my body. This feeling snuck up on me, that’s for sure, but now that it’s here there’s no denying the bizarre sensation within my rump.

When our next break rolls around, I immediately spring into action.

“I’ll be right back,” I call out to my supervisor.

“No, no, no,” he snarls, waving a finger. “You’ve gotta take your breaks at the machine now.”
 “Wait, what?” I blurt, stopping in my tracks. “Since when?”

“Two days ago,” my supervisor continues. “The higher ups think you’ll stay more focused if you don’t leave the machines.”

“That’s…” I start, then hesitate. I want to tell him how messed up that is, how this break time should be mine to use as I please, and how I don’t get paid nearly enough to put up with this shit, but I don’t say this. For as badly as I want to make my case, I also fully understand the consequences if I do. I can’t afford to lose this job.

“I need to use the restroom.” I finally continue.

“Doesn’t matter,” my supervisor counters.

I raise my eyebrows. “You don’t understand. I need to use the restroom.”

This time I give my voice some extra weight, letting my supervisor know there could be consequences if I don’t take this break.

The man pauses, then sighs. “Fine, but just once this once. No restroom is the policy going forward.”

I nod, then continue onward, leaving the factory floor. I head straight for the restroom (which is where I’d planned on going anyway, just not for the reasons my supervisor might think).

The place is empty, likely thanks to this new policy of staying near the machines even on break. Still, I place an out of order sign near the entrance in an effort to steal myself some privacy. Once this is taken care of I stand in front of the mirror and unzip my pants.

I’m ready to bend over and give this painful area a thorough inspection, but before I get the chance I notice a small, rectangular business card fall from the fabric of my pants and land on the tile floor.

I pick up the card and inspect it, turning this startling object over in my hands.

The front has crisp, elegant typography, printed neatly in block letters. It reads: Krocko Ripple, Union Organizer.

On the back of the card a message has been scribbled in pen, which I read aloud.

“Greetings Will. I’d love to talk with you about unionizing. Meet me inside your butthole if interested,” I recite.

The appearance of this card is strange and unexpected, and I can’t help but link it to the bizarre pain that continues shooting through my anus.

I don’t know much about unions, but if they can help ease this gradually escalating ache, then I’m happy to hear Mr. Ripple out.

With this in mind, I carefully start bending forward, locking my knees and curling tight against my own body. I’m not particularly flexible, but when I spot my own butthole it’s encouraging enough to compel me onward. Soon, I’ve reached the rim of my ass, pushing a single finger deep inside, then another and another, until my whole hand has disappeared. My arm goes next, diving all the way to my shoulder before slipping my head in with it.

Everything is dark, at least at first, but the deeper I push the more I notice a faint pinpoint of light in the distance, a warm glow at the end of this long tunnel. The next thing I know, I’ve fully entered my ass, strolling through this cavernous space as the luminous orb grows larger and larger.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, the words slipping through my lips as the tunnel finally opens into an breathtaking landscape of mountains and trees.

A brilliant sun hangs high above, casting its warm glow across this glorious natural scene. Birds chirp gleefully, fluttering about as the sweet scent of pine fills my nostrils.

As I gaze out at this natural wonderland, however, I can’t help noticing a strange, looming bump that rises from the middle of the forest. The curve of this object appears natural at first, but as I gaze at this unexpected shape I begin to notice the glint of a strange metallic surface. This appears to be some kind of machine, or many even a factory.

Growing more curious by the second, I start my trek down the winding path, heading deeper into the woods.

I don’t get far.

“Hey there!” calls an unexpected voice, stopping me in my tracks.

A figure rises from his place on a nearby log, waving as he approaches and extending his hand. The stranger is a light green triceratops, the handsome dinosaur clad in a dark suit that’s perfectly tailored to his muscular frame.

I shake his hand. “Hi,” I offer. “I’m Will.”

“I know exactly who you are,” the triceratops offers. “Krocko Ripple, it’s an honor to meet you.”

“Oh!” I blurt. “You’re just the man I’m looking for. I got your card.”

The triceratops nods. “Great! What are your thoughts about unionizing?”

I hesitate, not quite sure how to respond. Finally, I make an admission. “I’m gonna be honest, I’m not exactly sure what it means.”

“That’s okay!” the dinosaur offers, patting me on the back. “That’s exactly why I’m here. Let’s take a look at what’s going on down the road so you can get a better idea.”

The two of us continue through the woods for a while, taking in the peaceful sights and sounds of my butt until, finally, arriving at the enormous domed structure I’d spotted from afar.

This strange metal building is even more majestic up close, but as we emerge from the woods I notice a handful of strange figures around the factory. They’re humans, dinosaurs, bigfoot and unicorns, the whole bunch making their way into this building with a slow, shuffling walks. They look depressed, utterly despondent as they lumber from the parking lot of the structure.

Their mood certainly doesn’t reflect the glorious sunny day around them, which is a shame.

“These are the workers of your prostate,” Krocko explains, gesturing to the figures as they mill about. “They’re getting ready for another day of work giving you pleasure, but as you can see they’re not very excited about it.”

“Is that why I’ve been in so much pain?” I question.

Krocko nods.

“What the hell?” I blurt, immediately upset. “Why aren’t they doing their jobs?”

Krocko laughs. “Do you enjoy your job at the spaghetti mug factory?” the triceratops questions.

I consider this, then answer honestly. “Of course not. It’s too much work for too little pay.”

The dinosaur nods along. “These workers inside your butt feel exactly the same way. They’re overworked and exhausted, and they’re hardly getting paid for the important work they do.”

“Can’t we just pay them more?” I question. “I mean… I’m in charge here, aren’t I?”

Krocko winces when he hears this, unfortunately finding himself the bearer of bad news. “You actually sold the rights to most of your butt in order to make ends meet,” he explains. “You weren’t earning enough at the spaghetti mug factory, so you had to make some difficult calls. Don’t you remember?”

I shake my head.

“You may have sold off that memory,too,” the dinosaur observes, shaking his head in a gesture of sympathy. “It’s not fair.”

“It’s almost as if these systems work in synchronicity with one another to keep us from any upward mobilization,” I observe.

My dinosaur companion nods. “Now you’re getting it. Anyway, the current workers of this prostate factory are performing at the bare minimum, not because they’re bad at their jobs, but because they’re not being treated fairly.”

I let out a long sigh, shaking my head. “I’ve seen that before. I guess I’ll just have butt pain the rest of my life.”

Krocko laughs. “What do you mean?”

“I mean there’s no way out of this mess,” I explain. “The bosses have all the power.”

“Aww, but do they really?” Krocko counters. “Keep in mind, there’s only a few of them, and many factory workers. Without the workers, it all falls apart.”

“That only happens if we could get the workers to act together as a single entity,” I continue. “We’d have to unite them in some way.”
 My dinosaur companion smiles. “You mean like a union?”

Suddenly, it all clicks into place, a surge of understanding erupting through my mind.

“Welcome to the power of collective bargaining,” Krocko continues.

“But are all unions good?” I question.

Krocko considers this. “I mean… there are some police unions that are certainly not great, but in most cases that’s a big yes.”

My demeanor shifts completely, suddenly growing much more confident in the direction of this plan.

“What do I have to do?” I question.

Krocko nods in appreciation of my newfound vigor. “You’re a huge star around here, after all, it’s your butt. The fact that people will listen to you is important, because you can talk to them and convince them to attend our meeting. Once that happens, I’ll take care of the details.”

The dinosaur hands me a stack of fliers, small enough to fold and fit in my pocket. These documents offer a time and a meeting place, a discreet location found somewhere within my own butt.

The next hour or so I spend sneaking around outside the prostate factory, passing out flyers to every exhausted worker I can find. This just so happens to be all of them. Some of them workers are skeptical of my presence, but after a short discussion they all decide to meet up and talk. Gradually, the stack of papers begins to dwindle, until soon enough there’s none left.

By the time I’m finished with my task the sun has started setting on the distant horizon of my butt, casting the sky in a vivid swath of purples and oranges. I’m exhausted, but no more tired than I’d be if I was sitting at a conveyer belt in the factory all day. At least this time I’m doing something that’s going to make a greater impact.

Unfortunately, these thoughts are a frightening reminder to the consequences of my recent actions. This little adventure has clearly gone on well beyond the limits of my five minute work break. I’m going to be in huge trouble when I return.

I’ve already entered a state of full blown panic when Krocko meets me at the edge of the woods.

“Hey!” the dinosaur calls out. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m gonna be in big trouble,” I stammer. “I just realized I’ve probably missed out on like… six hours of work.”

Krocko shakes his head, then opens his arms wide. He takes me into his kind, prehistoric embrace. “You’re gonna be just fine,” the dinosaur offers, holding me tight. “Time works different down here. It’s probably only been five seconds on the upper layer.”

“Wait, really?” I blurt, pulling back in astonishment.

Krocko nods. “Really, but if it’s stressing you out this much to miss a few hours over a serious medical condition like a horrible pain in your butt… maybe there’s something wrong. Maybe you should be the one who’s unionizing.”

I can’t help but scoff. “Me?” I stammer. “I mean, it makes sense down here because you’ve done plenty of footwork to organize these meetings and all. I can’t just do it myself.”

“You can,” Krocko counters. “It’s gotta start somewhere.”

I consider this a moment, immediately hopeful and then gradually succumbing to the fear of punishment when my superiors find out what I’m planning. I’m certainly intrigued by the idea, and the working conditions at Cobbler Manufacturing are terrible, but I’m just not sure I have the confidence to pull this off.

I’m not like Krocko.

“How do you do it?” I finally question. “This has gotta be so stressful.”

“It is,” the dinosaur admits, “but the satisfaction you get after improving the working conditions of people who need it is worth all that stress. Plus, there are ways to blow off steam.”

“Like what?” I question.

Krocko grins, a little inside joke he’d rather keep to himself.

“What?” I press.

“It’s nothing,” the dinosaur replies.

I eye him curiously, not quite understanding his lack of commentary but noting the subtle tension that now hangs between us. There’s an erotic charge to this moment, and a potential answer gradually dawns on me that certainly matches these blossoming desires.

I know how I like to stay relaxed.

“We’ve got a few hours before the meet up,” I finally observe.

“Yeah,” the triceratops replies, nodding along.

I hesitate, my heart slamming in my chest, then finally lean in for a kiss.

The dinosaur’s lips meet mine, immediately erupting in a fit of passion. The next thing I know the two of us are making out, eventually stumbling our way deeper into the forest and out of sight. We somehow find ourselves in a small clearing, frantically tearing away one another’s clothing and tossing it to the side.

My hands begin to roam their way across the chiseled form of my triceratops companion, drifting lower and lower as they make their way from his rock hard chest to his chiseled green abs. I hesitate at the dinosaur’s waist a moment, teasing him with the prospect of something more, then finally diving down and wrapping my fingers tight around his swollen dick.

Krocko lets out a long, satisfied groan, leaning his head back and closing his eyes as I begin to work his length. I slowly pump my hand across his cock, gradually elevating my speed until I’ve found a confident pace.

At this point, the carnal cravings within me have taken hold, propelling me onward with reckless abandon.

I drop to my knees, gazing up at Krocko with cock hungry eyes and then opening wide to swallow his shaft. I pick up where my fingers left off, immediately falling into the established pace as I bob my head across his length. With my now free hand I play with this handsome dinosaur’s hanging balls, only adding to the erotic sensations that swirl within.

Eventually, I push down as far as I can, refusing to pull back as the triceratops cock slips into the absolute depths of my gullet. I somehow manage to relax my gag reflex, taking him well past any expected limits in a stunning deep throat maneuver.

I hold the dinosaur here for a good while, submitting myself completely as my face remains pressed up against his rock hard reptilian abs. Eventually, however, I’m forced to pull back in a frantic gasp of air, sputtering and coughing as I struggle to collect myself.

This moment has awakened something deep within me, an aching lust even more primal than the cravings that came before it.

I lay back, opening my legs and showing off my rock hard cock and puckered asshole for my triceratops lover.

“Get over here and fuck me,” I demand.

The dinosaur doesn’t need to be told twice, climbing down into position before me. The creature gets on his knees, aligning his giant green rod with my waiting back door and teasing me a bit. He pushes gently against my anal seal before pulling back, repeating this movement a few times while the anticipation builds.

“Please,” I groan, yearning for his giant dinosaur dick.

Finally, Krocko has mercy, thrusting deep within me and stretching my asshole with his massive rod.

I let out a sharp gasp as the triceratops plunges into my body, not entirely prepared for this incredible fullness. I’m stretched to my absolute limits, completely maxed out by his thick rod. Fortunately, Krocko is a patient lover, taking his time as my body adjusts to his incredible size. The dinosaur doesn’t move for quite a while, waiting for the muscles of my asshole to relax before gradually rocking his hips in a slow, powerful groove.

Soon enough, any sensations of discomfort have melted away, replaced instead by a potent warmth at the pit of my stomach that grows and grows with every pump. Krocko is hitting me just right, knowing exactly what to do with his massive shaft and massaging my prostate with expert precision.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” I start repeating, the words spilling out of my mouth as these pounds continue to escalate. Gradually, my voice rises in volume, until I’m screaming out at the top of my lungs. “Oh fuck! Oh fuck!”

I lose myself in the moment, allowing my body to accept this wild cascade of sensations that are now flowing through it. The first hints of orgasm have blossomed at the pit of my stomach, creeping across my frame like the tendrils of some glorious pleasure-filled vine. Soon enough, this warmth has covered my entire form, forcing me to tremble and quake with joyous anticipation.

I reach down and grab ahold of my bouncing cock, beating myself off in time with the slams up my asshole. These two distinct sources of pleasure dance and play together within my body, a strange combination with absolutely glorious results.

“I’m so close,” I scream, my eyes rolling back into my head. “Keep unionizing this tight ass! Just like that! I’m gonna cum so fucking hard!”

The next thing I know a powerful orgasm is ripping through my form, a wave of sensation that causes my back to arch and my toes to curl. All the while Krocko doesn’t let up, hammering me diligently and carrying me deeper and deeper into an otherworldly state of cosmic sexual bliss.

Hot white jizz erupts from the head of my shaft, blasting out across my stomach in a beautiful crisscross of milky spunk.

At long last I return to my physical form, achingly satisfied by the dinosaur’s powerful slams.

Krocko allows me to finish completely, then pulls out of my asshole for an eruption of his own. The dinosaur remains kneeled before me, pumping his scaly triceratops fist across his rod a few more times and then throwing his head back in a pose of utter bliss. He erupts with a blast of his own, ropes of milky dinosaur seed covering my stomach and mixing with the load that came before.

When the two of us are finished we collapse in a pile, utterly exhausted.

I take a moment to catch my breath, gazing up through the branches above and taking in the last bits of fading sunlight. There’s something about this moment that feels just right, a delightful puzzle piece falling into place.

“Well, I certainly feel energized,” Krocko offers. “I think it’s gonna be a great meeting tonight. We’ll have no problem unionizing this butt of yours.”

When I finally return from the depths of my butthole, I learn that Krocko was, in fact, correct in his assumption about time between these worlds. Everything works differently when exploring your own anal depths, and it appears only a few seconds have passed out here in the factory restroom.

I gaze at myself in the mirror, pushing away the fear I once had and remembering the lessons of my triceratops lover. Things can change, so long as we work together. After all, there’s a lot more of us then there are of them.

I take a moment to straighten myself out, then head back to the factory floor with a newfound confidence in my step.

The break is still on, and while I’m no longer allowed to spend this time using the restroom, I can still approach my friends along the conveyer belt.

Casually, I saunter over to Harry, keeping my voice low but hoping to appear as inconspicuous as possible.

“Hey man,” I offer. “Don’t you feel like we should get longer breaks around here? Especially based on how hard this job is on your brain and your eyes.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” Harry scoffs. “What are you gonna do? Ask the boss for a safer, happier, better paying work environment?”

I smile. “I’m not going to,” I reply. “We’re all going to.”

Harry looks confused.

“Come over to my place at midnight after you get off,” I continue, patting my friend on the shoulder. “There’s something we should talk about. Tell everyone else who’s working the line.”

A gradual look of understanding makes its way across my friend’s face. He nods.

Moments later, the buzzer sounds, prompting a return to my station. The conveyer belt begins to rumble once again, but as I take my seat there’s a notable difference.

All the pain in my ass has disappeared.