Messing with Sarah’s definition of “friends” had had a more profound impact on her than Lachlan had expected.

 

Up until now, Sarah had done her best to avoid Lachlan, except when compelled to spend time in his company.  But now a part of her brain was telling her that he was her *friend* - precisely because of how he humiliated and abused her.  And the other men from the office who had participated in her gang rape at her home on the weekend were her friends too.  And so she sought them out, on breaks and in her spare time.

 

She knew this was something being done to her.  She knew it was because of what she had surrendered to Lachlan, and because of the Securo-System.  She knew that these men were not really her friends, and that in fact they held her in contempt and saw her as a bimbo who they had enjoyed raping.  But the part of her brain that engaged with the concept of “friendship” was telling her that she liked these men, that she was happy in their company, that she wanted their approval, that she wanted them to like her.

 

On the Monday after her party, she found Lachlan standing with Vivaan, Trent and Armin in a smoker’s corner along the exterior alleyway outside the building.  The other men were nervous at first when they saw her coming - they didn’t quite understand Lachlan’s hold over her, or fully trust it, and for a minute they thought they were about to get in trouble for raping her on the weekend.

 

But Sarah approached, and laughed nervously, and said, “Thank you for the fun time the other night.”

 

“It was our pleasure,” said Trent.  “Did you enjoy yourself?”

 

Her face looked funny for a moment as her brain tried to reconcile two thoughts - that she had been humiliatingly gang raped in public, but also that these people were her friends, and she should be grateful.

 

“It was pretty embarrassing,” she said, eventually.  “But it was nice spending time with friends.”

 

Trent didn’t seem to know what to make of this response.

 

“What was your favourite part, kitten?” prompted Lachlan.

 

Her favourite part had been when it was over and everyone had stopped fucking her.  But it would be ungrateful to her friends to say that, so Sarah instead said, “My favourite part was when you were punching my… my oversized udders, Trent.”

 

The men laughed at this, finally confident that they weren’t going to get in trouble.

 

“God, you looked so hot while you were crying as I punched your fuckbags,” said Trent - and laughed again as Sarah nodded in confused agreement to this suggestion.

 

“I… I deserved it for having such big, slutty udders,” said Sarah.  “Thank you, Trent.”

 

And then she squealed, because Vivaan had moved to stand beside her, and he had reached under her skirt, and pressed his fingers against Sarah’s cunt.

 

Sarah tried to move away, but Lachlan put a hand on her shoulder, holding her still, and Sarah was obliged to hold in place, blushing, as Vivaan worked his fingers into her wet pussy on a public alleyway in broad daylight.

 

The men were kind of grouped around Sarah, blocking her from sight, and it was unlikely anyone would see anything even if there were someone else in the alleyway.  But it was still humiliating for Sarah to have her pussy penetrated right outside the office where she was a departmental secretary.

 

“What else did you like, kitten?” asked Lachlan.

 

Sarah tried to think.  It was difficult, with her friend Vivaan wiggling his fingers inside her wet cunt.

 

“I liked…when Armin gagged me with his cock,” she said.  “And I liked when Vivaan ejaculated inside me…”

 

“Have you taken a pregnancy test, kitten?” asked Lachlan.

 

“No…” said Sarah.  “I’m on the pill…”

 

“Well, we all know that’s not completely effective,” said Lachlan.  “Here, take this one.”  And he pulled a pregnancy test out of his pocket and passed it to her.

 

Sarah took it, blushing.  “Okay,” she mumbled.  “Later…”

 

“Now, kitten,” said Lachlan.  “Right here.  I think these men deserve to know if they’ve put a baby inside you.”

 

“But… it’s the sort where I have to piss on the stick…” objected Sarah.

 

Lachlan made his voice more menacing.  “NOW, kitten.  Right here.  No can see you.  We’re blocking their view.”

 

Sarah whimpered with embarrassment.  But it was clear the men weren’t going to let her go until she did as Lachlan asked.

 

And besides, said her brain.  They’re your friends.  You want your friends to like you, don’t you?

 

Vivaan was already helping her, by pulling down her panties.

 

Still whimpering, Sarah squatted, with her legs apart.  She took the pregnancy test out of the box, and held it between her legs, under her cunt.

 

Her face was now at groin height - so Trent unzipped his pants (first looking around again to check no one else had appeared in the alley) and fed his cock to Sarah.  With little choice but to comply, she opened her mouth and began to suck on Trent’s dick.

 

Her face bright red, she then relaxed her bladder, and pissed a little over the pregnancy test.

 

Lachlan chuckled at how far Sarah had fallen - from the leading champion of women’s rights in government, to squatting in an alleyway to piss on a pregnancy test while sucking her subordinate’s dick.  He liked the new Sarah a lot better.

 

“The test takes a while to show results,” said Lachlan.  “I think it will be ready by the time you’ve satisfied Trent.  Why don’t you rub your pussy and finish emptying your bladder while you do?”

 

And so Sarah had little choice but to keep sucking Trent’s dick, as she rubbed at her cunt and continued to piss.  Her bladder emptied quickly, but Trent took longer to reach his satisfaction, and it was a little over 10 minutes by the time he finally discharged his sperm into Sarah’s mouth, forcing her to swallow convulsively in order to avoid dripping any on her blouse.

 

When he was done, he pulled out and wiped himself clean on her cheek, then looked down meaningfully towards the pregnancy test.

 

Sarah checked it.  “Negative,” she said with immense relief.

 

“Good kitten,” said Lachlan.  “But it’s really too early for it to show even if you had been impregnated.”

 

“Then why did I…” began Sarah, outraged to have done something so humiliating for no reason.

 

“Hush, kitten,” said Lachlan.  “You can take another one if your period is late.  Now pull your panties back up and follow me upstairs.  I need to see you in your office.”

 

===

 

Back in Sarah’s office, with the door shut and the blinds drawn, Lachlan showed Sarah a table.

 

SURRENDERED                         NOT SURRENDERED

Your comfort                      |         Your bladder

Your diet                            |         Your body shape

Your ethics                        |         Your career

Your friends                       |         Your emotions

Your interests and hobbies |         Your family

Your style                          |         Your finances

Your transport                    |         Your heart

Your vocabulary                 |         Your history and life story

Your workspace                 |         Your intelligence

                                         |         Your name

                                         |         Your opinions

                                         |         Your possessions

                                         |         Your privacy

                                         |         Your reproductive system

                                         |         Your sexuality

                                         |         Your willpower

 

“Talk to me about the things you’ve surrendered, Kitten,” said Lachlan.  “Tell me about each thing, and how I’ve used it to improve you.”

 

Sarah fumed at the suggestion she had been “improved”, but she complied.

 

“Comfort,” she said.  “Every day I have to wear something that hurts or degrades me, or focuses attention on my slutty fuckbags or my cunt.”

 

“What are you wearing today, by the way, Kitten?” he asked.

 

She responded by pulling her shirt and bra out from her chest a little, to give him a look.  The inside of her bra was lined with many small, sharp tacks.

 

“Good girl,” said Lachlan.  “Go on.”

 

“Diet,” Sarah continued.  “I eat pet food for breakfast.  I fuck myself with a cucumber at lunchtime until I’m about to cum, and then eat it  I have to flavour my dinner with sperm.  I eat breakfast and dinner on all fours, out of a dog bowl, and if it’s at home then I have to be naked.”

 

“Good girl,” said Lachlan.  “And that diet is doing wonders for your figure, I should say.”

 

“Thank you, sir,’ said Sarah, blushing, her mind sending her conflicting messages about humiliation and friendship and gratitude and guilt.

 

“Go on.”

 

“Ethics,” said Sarah.  “I’m not a feminist anymore.  I don’t truly believe that women are as good as men or deserve equal rights.  I think that women with big tits deserve to be abused and humiliated by men, because their tits are so big.  I don’t believe in abortion and I believe that women who get pregnant should be stay-at-home mothers.  It’s bitchy to stand up for the rights or dignity of other women.”

 

“Next,” said Lachlan.

 

“Friends,” said Sarah.  “My only real friends are people who objectify and abuse and humiliate me.  Like you, sir.”

 

“Good kitten,” said Lachlan.  “Next.”

 

“Interests and hobbies,” said Sarah.  “I’m not interested in feminist theory anymore.  I use it as toilet paper.  I like listening to slutpop and watching rape porn and shallow reality TV.  I paint misogynistic paintings.”

 

“Go on.”

 

“Style,” she said.  “My favourite colour is pink.  I like to dress like a bimbo.  I like to put my hair into ‘blowjob handlebar’ pigtails with ribbon.  At home, I never wear more than slutty lingerie, even if I have visitors or need to answer the door.  I like to look fuckable.  But at work I wear a special business costume to hide the real me, so I don’t get fired.”

 

Michael was silent, just smiling, so Sarah continued.

 

“Transport,” she said.  “I have a special pink bimbo car with a dildo attached to the driver’s seat that goes inside me while I drive.  My car sound system plays me podcasts about how stupid and worthless women are.”

 

“Vocabulary,” she said.  “I call you sir, sir.  And I’m not allowed to call these” - touching her breasts - “any of the normal words.  I have to call them something like udders or fuckbags.  And add a demeaning adjective, if I’m referring to myself.”

 

“Hmm,” said Lachlan.  “I think it’s about time we extended that rule a bit.  Let’s start with the other key item of anatomy.  From now on, you don’t have a vagina, or a vulva, or even a pussy, do you understand, kitten?  You have a cunt, or a rapehole, or a fucktunnel, or whatever else will make you feel degraded to say it.”

 

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

 

“And from now on, you won’t use any of the following words to ever describe a woman.  It is grammatically incorrect in English to use these words in association with a woman.  You will not use them, and you will correct documents that come across your desk which use them.  This is the list: smart, clever, professional, powerful, respected, dignified, heroic.  Do you understand, Kitten?”

 

Sarah took a moment as her brain readjusted her understanding of grammar, and then said, “Yes, sir.”

 

“Good kitten.  Go on.”

 

“And my workspace, sir,” said Sarah.  “You made my office pink.  There’s a little ‘time out corner’ with a kids’ table and Barbie dolls and colouring books for when I get stressed.  My computer password is ‘I am a cunt’ and my computer corrects all my text to make me sound stupid.  It keeps asking me if I’m sure about everything I try to do with it.”

 

“Good girl,” said Lachlan.  “So that brings us to the question, Kitten - what do you want to surrender next?”

 

Sarah had known this was coming, but she still felt herself on the edge of tears.

 

“Why, sir?” she begged.  “What did I do?”

 

“Look, quite apart from the fact that you urinated behind the offices, in public, and didn’t clean it up,” said Lachlan, “you also just discussed your sex life in graphic detail with co-workers.  I don’t even know where to begin, Kitten.  You’re just lucky you’re only surrendering one thing.”

 

He looked at her.

 

“So what’s it going to be?”

 

(TO BE CONTINUED)