Emma’s Policy, Part 7
Emma was completely nude at work. She wasn’t wearing anything except her high heels, and she was walking through the corridors of Kavenagh & True, the firm at which she was still theoretically a senior executive - but where more and more she was coming to realise she was nothing but a sextoy.
She wasn’t so much walking as scuttling - moving frantically from cubicle divider to cubicle divider, trying to keep herself out of sight. One arm was clutching her tits, trying to conceal her nipples, and the other was clenched between her legs. Theoretically she was trying to cover her pussy, but her traitorous fingers, now in the habit of regularly pleasuring her cunt, kept worming their way between her labia to fingerfuck her rapehole, which still contained traces of cum from the workman who had raped her in her house that morning.
She was lucky, as it turned out. Almost everyone at Kavenagh & True was at a whole-of-office meeting discussing priorities for the quarter ahead. Having arrived late, Emma had missed it, and as a result there was almost no one at their desks to see her. She would possibly get in some trouble for missing that meeting - but her contributions to meetings recently had been saying “Yes, sir”, focusing the attention of men on the idea of raping her, and generally trying to pretend that she didn’t exist and that she wasn’t acting like a brainless sex-cow.
Those few people with permission to skip the meeting DID see her. The worst thing was how unsurprised they were to see Emma running nude through the workplace. Word had gotten around about Emma. Everyone knew she had been gang-raped by the HR department, and orgasmed from it. Everyone knew that she liked being called “sugar-tits” and “cunt”. Everyone knew that she gave blowjobs to the guys in IT. Everyone knew that she had asked all the men in the firm to whip her tits or spank her if she was a bad girl.
People just thought of her now as the kind of woman who *would* walk around the office naked while masturbating.
She heard Brendan from the Future Projects team laugh at her as she scurried past. She heard Dionne from Marketing yell out, “You’re a slut, Emma!” She ignored them and made a beeline for her office.
Inside, she disconnected the cable from her computer monitor. Tim had asked her to bring it to him so he could whip her tits with it, and these days she didn’t dare disobey anything Tim told her to do. She grabbed it, and hurried back to Tim’s office again. She didn’t even realise she was still masturbating.
When Gary from HR called out, “Look at those udders bounce!” as she ran past, and then mooed at her like a cow, she orgasmed. It took her completely by surprise, and she tripped and fell onto all fours. There was more laughter, and she thought she heard the sound of a camera from behind her, taking a photo of her ass and cunt.
It took her nearly a minute to get up. Her body shook from the orgasm. Her pussy spasmed. She could think of nothing but her shame and humiliation and degradation - and it just kept making her pussy clench more. A second orgasm hit her, just from thinking about what a whore she was, and she moaned in abject shame.
Eventually, though, she got up, her face flaming red, and hurried back to Tim.
“Very good, sugar-tits,” said Tim, taking the cable off her. “Now kneel. Cup your tits and offer them up to me. Tuck your thumbs underneath so they’re not in the way.”
Emma did as she was told, terrified of what was about to happen, but powerless to resist.
Tim took out a phone and pointed it at her. In his other hand, he held up a card. “Read this, and smile as you do it,” he said.
Emma focused on the card. “Hi, I’m Emma!” she said brightly - still cupping her naked tits. “I find that women in the workplace are stupid and lazy. Smart companies institute proper discipline for women. I’d like to demonstrate what I think should be done to disobedient women in the workplace!”
“Good girl,” said Tim - and whipped her across the tits with the monitor cable.
Emma screamed, and almost let go of her tits. The cable lashed across her right breast and the metal end impacted on the titflesh of her left breast.
“One,” said Tim, and hit her again. “Two.”
By the end of ten strikes, Emma was crying. Tears were running down her face. Her tits were on fire with pain. There were long red welts forming where the cable had struck her.
“You now have two minutes to masturbate,” he told her.
She looked up at him in confusion.
“Endorphins will dull the pain,” he explained.
He was right. Frantically, Emma began to rub her pussy. She had almost reached orgasm when Tim said, “Time’s up.” He grabbed her hair, pushed her down until she was on all fours, and then began to whip the cable across her buttocks.
The pain wasn’t as bad as on her tits. In fact… it was sort of pleasurable. A switch flipped in her head, and suddenly the punishment felt good - sexual. She moaned.
Twenty strikes with the cable to her buttocks, and then Tim pushed her, forcing her to roll over and lie on her back.
“Another two minutes to masturbate,” he said.
Emma eagerly began fingerfucking herself, not caring what she looked like, not caring that she was degrading herself in front of a man she hated. She was so close… so close…
“Time’s up,” said Tim. He kicked her hands away, then knelt across her chest, one leg on either side of her, facing her cunt. He forced her legs apart, and then raised a new implement - not the cable, but a thin wooden ruler.
Emma squealed, and tried to close her legs. Tim wouldn’t let her.
“One,” he counted, and brought the ruler down on her pussy.
Emma opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She had never felt such pain in her life. She had had her cunt spanked by Tim before - but in the past he had used his hand. The ruler was worse - so much worse that Emma couldn’t believe it.
And then she orgasmed.
“Two,” said Tim, and hit her again.
Emma orgasmed again.
On every one of the ten strikes to her pussy, Emma orgasmed. And when it was done, she was incoherent. Tears streamed down her face. Her tits, cunt and ass were bruised and she couldn’t think of anything but the pain.
“Thank you, sir,” she said, reflexively.
Tim held up another card, and his camera. Emma tried to focus on it.
“I deserve everything that just happened to me,” said Emma, “because I’m a dumb bimbo who doesn’t produce as much value as a man. I think with my tits and my cunt, and punishing them is the best way to correct my behaviour. I urge the board of Kavenagh & True to apply this discipline program to every woman who works here, because after all, the only way that a slut will learn is if you hurt her.” Emma tried to smile as she finished reading the card.
“Good girl,” said Tim, and turned off the phone. Then he grabbed her by the hair, dragged her across the floor and pushed her under his desk. He sat down in his executive chair, rolled the chair up to the desk, and unbuttoned his fly, extracting his stiff cock.
“Suck,” he commanded, and Emma, bruised, confused, and humiliated, instinctively obeyed. She took a kneeling position, hidden under the desk, and began to obediently suckle on Tim’s penis.
“Good cunt,” said Tim. “Now stay put. I have a very important meeting. In fact, it’s with the head of Finance… and it’s about you, and your slutty recent behaviour…”