Emma’s Policy, Part 6
Story by All These Roadworks (2021).
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Emma was late to work on the morning of her ninth week of being blackmailed.
It wasn’t her fault - although, in a way, it absolutely *was* her fault.
Over the weekend, her dishwasher had broken down, and she had called a repairman to fix it. He had scheduled the appointment for early on Monday morning - before work - and she had been waiting for him to arrive, expecting that the fix would be fast, and then she would be able to leave and head to the office.
When he had arrived - a rough-looking and hairy man, nearly a foot taller than Emma - he had identified himself as Elroy, and asked her name.
She had answered automatically, without thinking. “I like it when men call me Sugar-Tits, sir,” she had said. “It makes my cunt wet when men demean me.” And then her eyes had widened in horror. She had become so used to her degrading rules for interacting with men in the office - which required her to respond to demeaning names and put the idea of rape in men’s heads - that she had defaulted to them with a man that had nothing to do with her workplace.
Elroy’s eyes widened, and he grinned. “Okay, Sugar-Tits,” he said. “You sure are a pretty big-titted whore.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said automatically, and blushed again - and her blush deepened when she realised that her hands were cupping her tits, lifting them up in her low-cut blouse for his attention. It seemed her body language was becoming a habit too. She dropped her tits, and tucked her hands behind her back to keep them from fidgeting - an action which only thrust her chest out further.
After that it was all downhill. As she took Elroy to the dishwasher, she led him past the dining chair that she had stuck a dildo onto. She had gotten so used to being impaled on a dildo at work that sitting with an empty cunt at home had felt wrong, and so she had built herself her own dildo chair - and forgotten to hide it before the repairman arrived. He noted it, and asked her about it. “Is that for you, Sugar-Tits?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” she said. “I like having my rapetunnel stuffed when I am sitting.” And then she flinched - she had said “rapetunnel” instead of “cunt”. More conditioning. It never even occurred to her that she probably shouldn’t have referred to her cunt at all.
“What about when you’re not sitting?” he asked, with a grin.
She blushed, and didn’t answer at first. She didn’t have to answer here, at home. But as the seconds of silence passed, she began to become more and more sure that she was about to be slapped for being disrespectful. The certainty became a paralysing fear that made her want to flinch, until finally she said, “I like it when men sexually molest me, sir.” The fear left her - replaced by a different fear, caused by what she had just said.
When they reached the kitchen, Emma had found herself kneeling submissively on the floor as Elroy started to investigate the dishwasher. After a couple of minutes peering at the inside of the machine, he looked down at her and said, “Hey, Sugar-Tits, can you do me a favour and stand up, and look inside the machine and see if you can see a red button?”
Emma had stood - balancing on the high heels she now wore every day - and then bent forward at the waist, leaning inside the dishwasher, among the dirty plates that were still stacked there. Her head went right inside.
“I can’t see any red button,” she said.
“Keep looking,” said Elroy - and then pulled up the back of Emma’s dress.
Emma wasn’t wearing panties - the need to ask permission to take them off and put them on, and to push them aside to sit on her dildo, was just too inconvenient, and she had started going without. So when Elroy lifted her dress, he had a perfect view of her asshole and her shaved pussy mound pointing up at him.
Emma hurriedly tried to stand up - but only succeeded in banging her head inside the dishwasher. Elroy was standing right up against her, and she couldn’t pull backwards far enough to extricate herself.
“Just keep looking for that button,” said Elroy - and then slid a finger between her pussy lips.
Emma was almost always wet now. She made an involuntary slutty moan as the repairman’s finger glided past her fuckhole and teased her clitoris.
That was all Elroy needed. She heard him unzip his pants, and a moment later his hard, unprotected cock slid into her rapetunnel.
Emma was being raped. Just like she had been at the office a week ago. She knew she should shout, and scream, and struggle.
Instead, knowing what a traitor she was to her ideals and to her gender, she began to buck her hips eagerly against Elroy’s cock.
Elroy enthusiastically raped her, thrusting his cock into her so hard that it frequently caused her head to bang the back of the dishwasher. It felt so good to have a cock in her pussy that Emma was almost delirious. Soon she was orgasming uncontrollably, and shortly after that, Elroy came too, filling her womb with his hot sperm.
When he was done with her, he pulled her back out of the dishwasher, and released her. Emma fell to the floor, muscles barely working, her legs spread, Elroy’s cum leaking from her cunt. “Thank you, sir,” she said, feeling dizzy.
“Good girl,” said Elroy, not looking at her as he put his cock away. Then he went to work fixing the dishwasher. It seemed he didn’t need to find that button after all.
It took him maybe half an hour to complete the repairs, and Emma lay there for all of it. She thought about getting up, trying to pretend she hadn’t just orgasmed from being raped by a stranger in her own home, trying to pretend she hadn’t thanked him for it. She couldn’t quite work out what that would look like. Every option for trying to pass herself off as a respectable, chaste businesswoman felt more embarrassing than just continuing to lie there. So she stayed, her legs spread, showing her pussy to the repairman, and watched him work.
When he finished the job and confirmed to his satisfaction that the dishwasher now worked, he looked down at her - and particularly at her pussy. Then he reached down, grabbed her by the hair, and pulled her up into a kneeling position. Emma cooperated. She was used to kneeling by now.
Without speaking, Elroy took his cock back out of his pants and pushed it towards Emma’s face. Emma opened her mouth obediently. His cock tasted of sperm and of her own cunt, and it was a strangely pleasant taste. She began to suck eagerly, and then as Elroy’s cock began to harden again, he started to fuck her face forcefully. Emma moaned, and allowed her hand to stray down to her pussy and begin to masturbate, not caring that she was pushing his remaining semen further up into her womb.
She was anticipating a flood of salty sperm into her mouth when Elroy orgasmed - but instead, as he neared his release, he suddenly pulled out of her mouth, and a moment later hot cum was spattering over Emma’s face, eyes, mouth, breasts, and blouse.
“Thank you, sir,” said Emma instinctively, even though her eyes were gummed shut with spunk.
“You’re welcome,” said Elroy. “The repairs are free.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Emma again, although her mind was doing the math. He had only quoted her $50 for the job. At $25 a fuck, she was an exceptionally cheap prostitute.
As soon as Elroy left, though, Emma ran for her car. She was already 20 minutes late for work. She’d be nearly an hour late by the time she reached the office. It wasn’t until she had been driving for 10 minutes that she remembered she still had Elroy’s cum on her face.
While waiting at traffic lights, she did her best to clean the sperm off her. She didn’t have any tissues, so instead she transferred it to her mouth and swallowed. However, despite her best efforts, she still had a sticky sheen on her face and cleavage, a little cum in her hair, and visible cum-stains down the front of her blouse. There was also dried cum on her inner thighs from her first fucking, some of it visible below her hemline.
She was still horny, so whenever she had to wait for traffic she found herself fingering her pussy. She knew this didn’t help her look any less slutty, but she couldn’t help herself.
When she reached the Kavenagh & True Building, she practically flew into Tim’s private office.
“I’m here!” she said. “I’m sorry, sir! Please, I need another extension on my program, sir!”
He looked at her - at first surprised, and then with a smile that suggested he was trying to avoid bursting into laughter.
“Would you care to explain why you’re late, slut?” he asked.
Emma opened her mouth to lie - and then realised from his expression that he could see the cum on her. Lying would be a bad idea. There was no option but the truth.
“I was raped, sir,” she said, quietly.
“Good,” said Tim. “And did you deserve it?”
Emma was silent for a long moment. She knew the answer Tim wanted. And in any case, she realised she had come to believe it was the truth.
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“And did you enjoy it?” asked Tim.
“Yes, sir,” Emma admitted. Her pussy was still wet. She hadn’t been able to cum before arriving at the office.
“And what’s that I see on your face and dress?” asked Tim.
“My rapist’s cum, sir,” Emma said, quietly.
“On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the highest, how satisfying would you say you were to your rapist?” asked Tim.
Emma blushed. She hated these humiliating questions. But the power was entirely in Tim’s hands. She tried to think what to say. If she said “10”, Tim wouldn’t believe her. “9” would still sound like boasting. How satisfying *had* she been? Elroy had fucked her twice - but the second time he hadn’t orgasmed inside her. He’d given her a free dishwasher repair for her service - but that was only worth $50. He hadn’t photographed her. He hadn’t raped her a third time. He hadn’t stuffed her into his van to keep as a fuck-slave. She clearly could have been more satisfying.
“A six, sir,” said Emma, finally. She felt horrible shame as she said it - shame that she was playing Tim’s game, shame that she had been raped, but mostly shame at the knowledge that, even in her own self-assessment, she had been such a mediocre rape experience for Elroy. She wished she had done better.
“Well, you can’t work with cum on your clothes,” said Tim. “Take off your clothes. All of them.”
“Here, sir?” asked Emma nervously.
“Did I say to do it somewhere else?” snapped Tim. “Yes, here.” And he watched as Emma nervously stripped nude in front of him. She knew he had seen every intimate part of her body before, in person or on video cameras, but she still hated exposing herself to this man who was the author of all her humiliation. She stood blushing with her tits and pussy bare, her clothes in a pile at her feet.
“And now,” said Tim, “I believe you have been a slut. The punishment for which is ten strikes to your cunt with a ruler. And you have been disappointing to a man. Which is ten strikes to your tits with a belt. And you have come to work late, the punishment for which is twenty strikes to your buttocks with an implement of my choice.”
“What implement will you choose, sir?” Emma asked - and then immediately realised she had fallen into Tim’s trap.
“Why, with the cable from the monitor on your office desk, of course” said Tim. “Go fetch it.”
Emma’s eyes widened in horror. Her office was on the other side of the building - and she was nude…
“And when you come back,” said Tim, “I will have ordered your new uniform, which you’re going to be required to wear from now on. If my program is successful, all the women here will be wearing it soon. And while we wait for it to arrive, you can hide your shame under my desk and suck my cock during my morning meetings….”