Giving up control of her reproduction turned out to be the final straw for Sarah.  Lachlan’s instruction that she *wanted* to fall pregnant to him destroyed her last chance of escape, although she hadn’t realised it at the time that she surrendered it.

 

The trigger happened the very day after she made the surrender.  She had called up a junior male employee named Alan from the department’s records area.  All she had intended to do was give him a pile of paper to take away for filing.

 

But on his way to her office he had stopped to talk with another male employee, a man named Howard who was one of Sarah’s direct reports, and the topic of Sarah’s tits had come up.  Howard joked that Sarah might have difficulty seeing Alan over the top of her giant new fuckmelons, and Alan said that he didn’t know why a woman would deliberately get udders that huge.

 

Howard said the only explanation was because the woman wanted to be a fuckdoll, and reminded Alan how Sarah had encouraged employees to grope her tits if they wanted to.  “All women like being groped, secretly,” he added.  “Like this cunt over here.”

 

They both turned to look at a woman working near Howard’s desk, who blushed and looked away.

 

“What size would you say her bra is?” asked Howard.  “A G-cup, maybe?”

 

“Fuck,” said Alan.  “Those are nice tits.”  He was deliberately loud enough for the woman to hear.

 

“Go squeeze them,” said Howard.  “What’s she going to do, complain to the slut-in-chief?  You can just do things like that around here now.”

 

And so Alan had gone and squeezed the tits of the woman - whose name he didn’t even know - and she had sat there, blushing bright red, and meekly allowed him to do it.

 

“Groping is a compliment,” Howard told the woman.  “Say thank you.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” said the woman, keen to keep her job.

 

“Squeeze her until she squeals,” Howard urged.  “Sluts like pain.”

 

And so by the time Alan eventually found his way to Sarah’s office, his cock was hard, and his head was full of the idea of treating women like objects.

 

Sarah barely looked up as Alan entered.  “The files are on my desk, sir,” she said.  Alan may have been her junior, but she was still obliged to call him sir.

 

But Alan was just looking at her.  Or more specifically, at her tits.

 

“Can I help you, sir?” Sarah asked.

 

“I want to squeeze your udders,” said Alan.  “You said that was okay, didn’t you?”

 

Sarah blushed.  “Uh… yes, sir.”

 

And without further invitation, Alan moved over to her, grabbed one of her tits in each hand, and squeezed hard enough to make her squeak.

 

“You’re such a fucking slut,” he breathed.

 

Sarah knew it was true.  “Yes, sir,” she blushed.  “Thank you, sir.”

 

The door of her office wasn’t even closed.  People were looking in.

 

Alan pulled on her tits, forcing Sarah to stand.  Then he pushed her back against a wall, still crushing her fuckmelons in his hands.

 

Sarah’s cunt was wet.  She was breathing heavily.

 

“Take them out,” grunted Alan.  “Out of your dress.  So I can squeeze them better.”

 

“Please…” gasped Sarah.  “I shouldn’t… please, sir…”

 

“Fucking cockteasing slut,” gasped Alan.  “I should rape you.”

 

Sarah’s cunt spasmed with desire at the word “rape” - even as part of her squealed with fear.  Not just the part of her that, deep down, feared rape - but also the part that feared being impregnated by someone other than Lachlan.

 

“Please,” she begged.  “Please…”

 

But she found herself pulling up her top, lifting it up and over her head.  She was bra-less, and her new giant porn-star tits were now fully exposed.  

 

Alan laughed when he saw that she had a constricting band around the base of each tit which was squeezing and distending them into even lewder shapes than they otherwise would be - part of Sarah’s “comfort requirements”.

 

He grabbed her bound tits, and squeezed harder.  The pain was agonising.  It felt good.

 

“Fucking whore,” he breathed.  And then he grabbed her skirt, and pulled.  It ripped, and came away.

 

Sarah knew then that this was what her life had been building towards.  She was about to be raped, in full view of her entire office, by a man who earned less than a sixth of what she did, who she should have been able to fire at a whim.  And she was going to let him do it, and she was going to call him sir, and she knew she would orgasm from it.

 

He laughed when he saw her tattoo that read, “ALL WOMEN ARE CUNTS”, and laughed again when he realised she had a vibrating butt plug in her ass.  Then he pulled her away from the wall, pushed her over her desk, tits down, took out his cock and pushed it into her wet cunt.

 

Her rational brain turned off.  All the lights in her conscious mind went off except for two.  The first was that this was as it should be.  A man was using her for his sexual pleasure, and that was what she deserved, because she was a woman, because she had big tits, and because she was stupid.  She should be a good little whore and fuck him as best she could.

 

And the other light was mad, panicking fear.  Not because she was being raped.  But because Alan might knock her up.  And she was desperate to be pregnant *by Lachlan*.  

 

And so she began to struggle, and moan and buck against Alan.  But not nearly hard enough to actually escape, because the other part of her knew that she didn’t deserve to escape.  

 

A crowd had gathered around to watch her rape.  There was laughter and cheering.

 

And soon Alan was cumming inside her pussy, and when she felt that happening, Sarah orgasmed too, even as she began to cry at the idea that she had just been impregnated.  She *probably* hadn’t been - it wasn’t the right part of her cycle - but she *might* have been.

 

And despite that, when Alan released her, she fell to her knees, and licked his dick clean, and thanked him for raping her.

 

And she knew that after that scene, if anyone who worked for her had retained any lingering respect for her, it was gone now.  And anyone who had the least interest in raping her *would* now rape her, because it was clear that nobody would stop them - least of all Sarah - and there would be absolutely no consequences for doing so.

 

===

 

That night she showed up at Lachlan’s house, half naked, wearing only a loose shirt, her thumbtack bra, and her clitoris clamp-weight, and begged him to fuck her.

 

“Please,” she whined.  “You have to get me pregnant, sir, before somebody else does.”

 

He reminded her that sexually harassing a fellow employee at their home, outside of work hours, was definitely a breach of the code of conduct.

 

She moaned, and half-turned away as if she might leave - and then turned back to him.

 

“I don’t care,” she said, pathetically.  “Please.  You have to put a baby into me before someone else does.”

 

And so he invited her into his house, led her to his bedroom, and pulled off her shirt.

 

“I think I’d like to make this even harder for you, kitten,” he told her, as he squeezed her breasts, massaging the thumbtacks in her bra agonisingly into her soft titflesh.  “What if you don’t *want* to get pregnant?  What if you just *need* it?”

 

“No…” she moaned.

 

“In fact, you hate the idea, don’t you, kitten?” he said.  “It makes you go mad with fear, the idea of being knocked up.  Of being turned into a baby factory.  Of being a breeding cow.  That’s the worst thing imaginable, isn’t it?”

 

She moaned.  Suddenly it was.  Lachlan controlled her opinions about reproduction.  She had no choice in how she thought about it.

 

“But you still need it, don’t you?” he said.  “A baby inside you?  *My* baby inside you?  Despite how much you hate it?”

 

“Yes,” she whispered.  It was true.

 

“Good girl,” said Lachlan.  “I’m going to breed you now.  You need to think about what you’re going to surrender to me for your shocking breach of the code of conduct tonight.  You can only cum after telling me what you’re surrendering.”

 

He put her on all fours on his bed, and knelt beside her, and began to fuck her cunt.  Sometimes she would moan with lust and buck against him.  Other times she would suddenly begin to whine and struggle, and he would have to grab her hips, or her hair, or her tits, to keep her in place as he continued raping her.

 

He held off on his orgasm.  He wanted her to make her surrender before he came.  He listened to her moan as she got wetter and wetter with the continued fucking.

 

And then finally she said it.

 

“My privacy,” she said.  “I surrender my privacy.”

 

“Good girl, Kitten,” laughed Lachlan.  “From now on you change your clothes in the morning on your front lawn, and you eat your slutty meals on your front lawn.  You shower and toilet in your back yard..  If you want to masturbate, you do it where someone can see you.  You never close the door of your office unless I’m in it with you.  You never use the work toilets or bathrooms.  You never seek out any private place for the purpose of avoiding embarrassment.  Every morning you will email the department a report on your sexual activity, including any sex, any masturbation, any porn you’ve viewed, and any sexual fantasies you’ve had.”

 

“I’m going to get fired,” whined Sarah.  “This is too much… I can’t…”

 

“Stop trying to think, Kitten,” said Lachlan.  “It’s not your job to think.  Just obey.  And cum.”

 

And she did - she began to shudder with an orgasm on his cock, and when Lachlan felt that, he orgasmed too, firing a dose of warm, gooey sperm up into Sarah’s unprotected womb.

 

She was right, of course.  Sarah’s increasingly lewd behaviour would probably get her fired soon.

 

But Lachlan was no longer worried about that.  He’d had a chat with the Minister that had put Sarah’s endgame into focus.

 

===

 

It had happened earlier that day, while Sarah had been in the process of being raped by Andy.  The Minister had come to visit the department, and asked Lachlan to meet with him at the Securo-System.  

 

When Lachlan arrived, a young nude woman - maybe 19 years of age - was being forced into the machine against her will.

 

“The head of the feminist advocacy organisation at Central University,” said the minister.  “She was arrested at a protest, and I had police divert her here for a little… therapy.  Soon she’ll be willingly bringing the other members of her organisation here for similar treatment.”

 

“That’s exciting, sir,” said Lachlan.

 

“It is,” agreed the minister.  “We’re reaching a tipping point, Lachlan, much sooner than I’d expected.  Some things are going to happen soon that are fundamentally going to change our nation - and the role of women within it.”

 

Lachlan was intrigued.  “Can you tell me more?” he said.

 

The minister laughed.  “I absolutely cannot.  Because of course I know nothing of such things.  But I want to describe an entirely hypothetical situation for you, Lachlan.  Would you like to hear it?”

 

“Of course,” said Lachlan.

 

“I want you to imagine,” said the minister, “that a significant terrorist event occurs.  Explosions at multiple buildings all on the same day.  Almost nobody is hurt - but major landmarks are forever defaced.  People are scared.  Their safety is put in question.  And upon investigation it is found that the culprits are a secret organisation of radical feminists - and among their number are no less than three female members of parliament.”

 

“That would be shocking, sir,” said Lachlan.  He was certainly aware that far more than three female members of parliament had already been through the Securo-System.

 

“In this scenario,” said the minister, “the government authorises a general wide-ranging police investigation of feminist organisations throughout the country.  And it is found that in almost every prominent organisation, there are plans to commit acts of terrorism against men.  In addition, the women in these organisations are found to be engaging in extraordinary acts of perversion.  The women are raping and fucking and degrading each other.  Women who claim to be lesbians are fucking men.  Teachers are fucking their students.  They are prostituting themselves for money and posting nude pictures of themselves on the internet for fun and attention.”

 

“I think many people would have long suspected that, sir,” said Lachlan, tactfully.

 

The minister laughed.  “Exactly!  And these discoveries prompt still further investigations, and we discover the most terrible things about women in positions of power throughout the country.  A high ranking woman in the Treasury has been embezzling money to purchase trafficked women so she can rape them.  A department head in Education has spent all her money on a huge collection of dog-shaped dildos and then stolen departmental funds to buy more.  An executive in Agriculture has been accepting money from farmers to “disappear” beautiful  young women to their farms where they are being raped or used as livestock.”

 

The minister looked at Lachlan significantly.  “And the head of the Department of Women turns out to be a sex-crazed misogynist bimbo who’s fucking her employees.”

 

“That would be significant, sir,” said Lachlan.  “It would justify a significant re-think of the role of women in our society.”

 

“Absolutely,” said the minister.  “I think, at the very least, we’d have to immediately suspend women from all positions of authority pending further investigation.  We’d have to outlaw feminism, and declare it a terrorist ideology.  We’d have to significantly curtail women’s rights, in the workplace and elsewhere.  And we’d need to engage in significant research on just what makes women so slutty, untrustworthy and stupid - research that some might see as degrading towards women, but which would be very necessary to inform our future policies.”

 

“All that, at the bare minimum, sir,” said Lachlan.

 

“We would, of course, immediately need a new head of the Department of Women,” said the minister.  “A man, of course.  Someone who knew how to control the slutty urges of women.”

 

“I would be honoured to perform such a role,” said Lachlan.

 

The minister smiled.  “And I think that would just be a stepping stone, eventually, to a role in government,” said the minister.  “After all, I think there are a lot of women who are unlikely to be eligible for election at the end of their current terms…”

 

There was a moment of silence.

 

Then the minister spoke again.

 

“You don’t need to hide what a whorish cow Sarah is anymore, Lachlan.  The more there is to be found when it comes time to investigate, the better.  Make sure she’s truly shocking.  And when it’s all done, I’ll see that she ends up under your… guidance.  Along with whatever other women you think you’d also like to own.”

 

“Yes, sir,” said Lachlan.  “I’ll see to it.”

 

And the next day, when he received Sarah’s first public report to the office on how she’d been fucked by an employee, and then masturbated at the idea of what a slut she’d been, before fucking Lachlan at his house, he knew that Sarah’s last couple of weeks before losing everything would be a lot of fun.

 

(TO BE CONTINUED)