Why I Love My Job Ch. 06

"This is not right," she whispered. "I saw things in the war that weren't this bad."

I didn't reply. We'd all joked about how the company fucked people over, how fundamentally evil it was. Just idle chatter. Even knowing about the very occasional disappearances, I'd never considered the depth of the evil before. Things had indeed been driven home.

She got me to my bed and had a look. The indrawn breath she took made me queasy. "I know what causes that," she whispered.

"Please tell me not from personal experience."

"No. The war again. This happened to captured prisoners and sometimes women who tried to find their men. You aren't bleeding from there so maybe it's not as bad as it looks but sir, I'll never complain about a spanking again." She blotted me up -- which nearly made me pass out - and creamed and bandaged the whip mark.

I lay on my side. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me, softly.

"Baby, you can't imagine I'm good for much right now."

"Shut up," she said. "This is all I know what to do to make you feel better." She kissed me again, gently and miserably. I had to admit it helped.

+++

An hour in bed, and my shock receded, so I tried a shower. It wasn't pleasant, but I needed to get Freddie off of me or I'd throw up again. She brought me toast afterwards, and we worked out cushions that let me sit down.

"So tomorrow you just go back to work?"

"If I can sit. It's a living. Got to pay for the ginger and fresh vegetables for my baby."

She gave a confused and sad little laugh. "This is cheating, you know. I'm still trying to hate you, and now I'm beautiful and your sweetheart and baby, and you're hurt, and I can't even tell you how fucking unfair it is because I get spanked for language like that."

"Don't mess with edge cases, baby. I can't spank you now but there's always tomorrow."

"Um... can I ask if anal sex is permanently off the table? Because you see how unpleasant it can be."

I winced as my stomach clenched. "Maybe someday we can try anal sex, and I'll spend an hour on the foreplay. But you will never, ever have to worry about anal rape. Damnit, girl, I know I'm a monster but there's still a difference between me, and..."

"..and what passes for leadership in the Company and Government?"

"You're too young to be that cynical."

"Ha. War, and now this. The only way I'm still innocent at all is sexually, and that's not going to last long around you."

"I think you'll get a couple days off, in regard to that issue."

She paused. "That should thrill me. It bugs me that it doesn't. And why I just told you that, I don't know."

I shifted, but there were no comfortable positions. "I will tell you the truth, Julianne. The fact that you tell me what you feel, honestly and nakedly... that holds my attention tighter than your boobs ever will."

"I'll work on the boob thing. There are some nice padded bras for sale-"

"You know what I mean. And don't you ever wear a padded bra. I'm all about truth in advertising."

She kissed me again. "If we're being all honest... you make me feel very, very eighteen. I felt so grown up until I met you. What do you want with a child?"

"Gladgrind, noted pedophile. Don't be absurd, sweetheart. You don't look eighteen, you generally don't sound eighteen, and you've seen stuff that makes you more mature than many girls I know. I've done much worse than you."

"Pedophilia is for prepubescent girls. There's a name for guys that like girls my age, but I don't know what it is."

I closed my eyes. "The general term is chronophilia, fascination with partners of certain ages. For an age difference like this one, I'd be considered borderline ephebophilia. Except usually I go for slightly older girls, so I think we can forget the labels. You're legal anyway, that's all that matters to me."

"Sir, I want to ask some things. Maybe with you hurting so much, this isn't the right time."

"It might distract me from the unpleasantness." I was shaking again. It was not so much the pain as the trauma.

"Alight. I... " she blushed "I don't know what we are. And if you call me property it doesn't help, because I don't know what that means."

"Girls always want definitions. Guys don't like definitions."

"I need to know. You pretty much clubbed me over the head and dragged me to your cave. Now what?"

"What do you feel when I kiss you? And remember, you're totally honest."

She looked down. "A longing to kiss back. Maybe you don't know how intense it is. You probably do. I can't hate you. I tried. You deserve it. But I can't. And when you kiss me I ache to... to... please you, to kiss back as sweet and hot as I can. And I feel like I don't even know how to kiss, and the next time Suzie or a Cheryl or anyone else comes along-"

I kissed her. She mewled and pressed herself against me, rubbing her breasts against me, her lips moving softly and urgently over mine. She couldn't make the physical pain in my body fade, but the shock and horror melted away.

She shifted back and took off her blouse. "Would... would kissing my breasts help? I read somewhere that men find it comforting..."

"That's a little too infantile for me. But cupping your breast in my hand, like this, makes me feel protective and more peaceful. Your first guess was the best one, though. Keep kissing me."

"I wanted to hate you, so much," she whispered. And her mouth moved over mine, and I cupped and slowly massaged her breast, and even the pain receded, a little.

+++

Julianne was transferred to work in a different department for two weeks, which terrified me, but I investigated, and it looked like a genuine and temporary staffing move. It meant I spent a couple of days at home alone, recovering... which gave me time to think.

After ten days I got a call. It was Cheryl and she made it clear she needed to tell me something in private and in confidence. I drove over.

+++

"Mr. Gladgrind... I'll be right out. Make yourself comfortable."

Her new apartment was small and dark, but well furnished. I had the impression that the Company had settled money on her to keep her quiet. She had wide windows that looked out on the city. The moon was rising through the city's haze; a pretty sight.

"What is this about, Miss Cheryl."

"We have things to discuss. You know I was away for a time, right?"

"Yes. I know what happened to you, in a general way, in fact. I think you must know that?"

"I'd guessed. I'd like to give you some... specifics." The door opened, and she stepped out.

She was in red high heels and a red, diaphanous, gown, with nothing underneath. Her smile was a hot and wicked thing, and she raised her eyes to mine, slowly and sensuously. "But first I have a question, sir. Have you ever had fantasies about raping a woman?"

I eyed her. "Every man does, Miss Cheryl. But I'll just say it... from the looks of things, you can't be raped. You can't rape the willing."

"Very true, sir." She moved beside me, sat, and then draped her leg across mine, stroking it over my thighs, slowly. I was instantly hardening.

Her style was different -- more purely sexual, less theatrical. She leaned forward, bringing the barely covered nipples up to my mouth. "But there's a way I can give you your fantasy -- and fulfill one of mine."

I ran my hand along her leg. She purred, softly.

"You're different, Cheryl."

"Yes. They did things that changed me. Experiments. I'm always aroused now, Mr. Gladgrind. Like the secretaries on the top floor. And my body produces a perfume now. Do you smell it? It's faint, but it's always there. It makes me more sexually appealing to men, not because of the scent itself, but something mixed in it... anywhere I go now, no matter how I dress, men notice me, men act more sexually around me. It drives me insane. I can't escape sexuality anymore. And I don't want to. There are other changes. Kiss my mouth, or go down on me, and you get a dose of Hard Night. You've heard the rumors? It's about the perfect sex drug for men -- you'll be rigid, no refractory period, you'll be able to go for hours, but it doesn't take your sanity away like some of the X drugs. Kiss me for awhile and you'll be able to do me until you fall asleep of exhaustion. Kiss me, sir. I promise you I don't object."

Part of me was horrified, but part of me was turned on, hard. The Company has always been a highly sexualized place, but it was obvious that we were now developing idealized fucktoys. Madrigal had changed the world; this was going to change it again.

I ran my thumbs, lightly, along the insides of her thighs. "Why the question about rape."

"You know why. I've been given an endless supply of a variant of Black X. I'm an addict now. I need men and a certain kind of sexuality or the cravings get so bad I can't think straight. But it's not the sort of drug that you take when you're alone. You know what it does, I'm sure."

"It unleashes fantasies and makes them nearly real."

"Only fantasies involving fears and needs. It opens up the dark corners of the mind. And now you understand the question I asked. I have rape fantasies, and the drug makes them emerge. You're right, you can't rape the willing... but on that drug I feel fear, I'll struggle, panic, I'll fantasize there are multiple men here. You'll have to pin me down, but when you do... all I ask is that you don't beat me. When we spent the night, you were... just the right kind of ruthless, without brutality. You saw how I responded to you. I'll respond much harder now. You'll like it."

My hands slid up her torso -- her skin was oiled, slippery and smooth, and my thumbs worked her nipples. She was trembling now.

"I promise you I don't need foreplay anymore, sir. It's kind of you to turn me on, but there's drugs for that now. Isn't that every man's dream?"

"Some men, maybe. I like the hands-on approach. I have a cruel streak, Miss Cheryl. I love getting a female so needy she begs, but I like to control the process myself."

"I'm begging now, sir. They taught me to be less... mouthy, they called it. Less demanding and more pleading. It's taking all my self-control not to reach into your pants and stroke you. I'm aching to be kissed and it's harder than you know not to throw myself into your lap. I'm a toy now, sir. A living plaything."

"And you aren't angry?"

"That's where it gets really fucked up. I've been... I mean you can't even call it rape, it's something worse. But it shattered me. I fear men now but I'm so broken I can't even feel anger. And there's no pleasure like what I feel when I'm used. I want it, over and over. I'm looking for men -- several men -- who I can trust enough to play with me, so I can feed my addiction every day. It's going to take more than one man, no one man can keep up with me. You're the first I'm asking."

I took out my cock. She stared at it, hands trembling.

"The... changes they made in you. Was it only done with drugs?"

"No. There was minor surgery. Why?"

"A world full of women like is you a cock's heaven, but it's not good for society. If they can do to all women what they did to you, just with drugs, we'd be heading for a fucked up world. There'd be no stopping it."

"They said the same about Madrigal, once."

"They did. And I'm not convinced we don't live in a fucked up world."

Moaning, her hands slipped forward and wrapped around my cock. I pulled them off. "You'll get that when I get answers."

She lifted her hands to her nose and inhaled. "T-then you aren't asking questions fast enough." She gave a mirthless smile. "Interrogate me. Apply the drug to me and bind me and ruthlessly interrogate me. Interrogation and rape... That fantasy has made me moan since I was first spanked. On the drug, it becomes... well, real."

"That explains the jar of silk ties behind you."

"Silk and nanorubber. They are very strong, and they have to be cut off with a knife. They won't untie once tied."

"Where is the drug?"

"There's a vial and a brush in the drawer in the table behind you. You know how to apply it?"

"No."

"Brush it on my nipples, then on my lips, and then, when I'm shaking, work the rest into my pussy. I'll... lose contact with reality, kind of. Not like a hallucinogen exactly, but I become... suggestible. You'll figure it out."

I leaned forward, took her by the throat, and pushed her back on the couch. Her arms crossed over head and her legs opened, wide. She arched, and licked her lips, shivering and waiting.

I found the vial -- among a collection of toys that I'd explore shortly - and unscrewed the top. It had a soft brush applicator. "You're now mine, Cheryl. I'm going to toy with you, use you, and push you aside. You don't mean anything to me; you're simply a toy that gets played with sometimes." I opened the thin cloth over her torso, and gripped her hair as I stroked her nipples shiny with the clear, thin drug. Her lips parted, and she mewled in anticipation and fear.

"Yes, sir. That is how I want it, sir."

"Don't lick your lips." I applied it, slowly, very slowly, over her upper lips, and then her shaking, outthrust lower one.

"I want... I want to lick it-"

"I'll punish you if you do."

That got a soft moan. I grabbed a handful of the silk ties, and bound her wrists, and then her ankles, to the convenient woodwork of the couch's frame.

Then I found her phone and shut it down, and locked her door. The key went in my pocket, and I walked back to her.

Her eyes changed, slowly. Larger, darker... I could see the fear filling them. I wrapped a silk tie around her throat, not as a binding, simply so she'd feel a slight choking sensation. Then I went to her kitchen and found a sharp knife. When I got back she was moaning. It worked fast.

"Please sir... I'm scared. I'm so scared!"

I sorted through the collection of toys in her drawer. A vibrator, a vibrating dildo, a violet wand of all things, nipple clamps, a tickleator-

"Are you ticklish, miss?"

"Please don't -- I hate it-"

Of course. I looked further -- a mask, a blindfold, a set of suction devices that looked suitable for multiple uses, and a flexible rod labeled "anal explorer," which I decided was staying where it was.

I tied the blindfold around her. She licked her lips, and whispered "Scared-"

"Shut up unless you want to be slapped. You'll tell me what I want to know, and otherwise you'll be silent."

I opened the cloth over her hips, letting her outfit pool on either side of her. I left the shoes on -- fucking a woman in heels has always worked for me.

I'd never used a tickleator; they were illegal now. I turned it on low and held it over the palm of my hand; the tiniest of warm prickles washed over my hand; it was very pleasant. I turned it up a little. It was like being stroked very lightly my fingernails, but dozens at once. I turned it up further and then instantly pulled it away. Too much.

I turned it down a little, and passed it over her belly. She gasped, twisting. I moved it up her side and along her armpit, and she started to spasm. I turned it up, slowly.

The gasping, then whimpering, then horrified laughter... I turned it to full. Screams of laughter erupted, mixed with pleas for mercy, and I ran it over her breasts, underarms, the backs of her knees, and then slowly down her leg... it worked through shoes, I learned, and she thrashed so desperately I thought she'd hurt herself. Then the inside of her thighs -- her shudders became continuous -- and then over her clit -- shrieks of laughter mixed with sobs of mercy and pleading for cock.

I turned it off suddenly, and applied the drug to her clit. She kept writhing.

"Hold still, bitch. Do I have to... hurt you?"

For me, this was amusing role play. From her breathing, it was already something more. I poured a little of the drug into her slit, and worked it with my finger. Her moan was an animal thing. I turned the lights off, disrobed and looked her over. She was shaking now.

"Scared- so scared-"

I slapped her across the face. She moaned again. "I'll be good -- you don't h-have to h-hurt me... I'll be so good..."

I put the last of the drug on my cock, and forced her to lick it off. "You're going to tell me everything I want to know. I'm not afraid to slap and fuck it out of you."

"Please- please no-

The room was dimly lit from the windows, and it occurred to me that the people in the building across the street could have quite an interesting view with something as simple as opera glasses. To encourage that, I found a small desk lamp and arranged it to shine dimly on her torso.

"You've been kidnapped," I said, as an experiment.

Immediately her whimpering became frantic.

"I have questions to ask you. But I'm not in a hurry. First I'm going to toy with your naked, helpless body. At points you'll be required to please me. Do it well. At points you'll feel pain. Bear it quietly or it will get much more intense."

That was pure bluff; I'm just not into inflicting anything more intense than a good hard spanking. But playing the bad guy kidnapper was more fun than I'd expected. I could see her pulse in her nipples, and wetness was pooling between her legs.

"Whatever else you are... you're a slut and you're going to be fucked. Over and over. You won't come. You're here to provide two things -- information and a good time for cock. You will do everything you can to make me happy, because you won't like what happens if I'm unhappy."

I drew my fingernails over her belly. She thrashed in her bonds, trying to cower away from my hand. I clawed lightly over her nipples, which were already so hard they looked like strawberries, and then very gently pinch down on one. She howled through her gag.

"Be quiet," I snapped, pinching the other one, and then pulling up, slowly. She arched to relieve the tension, and I twisted it back and forth. "Or you'll have things to cry about."

I took out the vibrating dildo, and without warning slid it into her. She convulsed again, and I turned it on, low.

"You won't come until permitted to," I told her. Then I picked up the violet wand, plugged it in, and turned it on. It gave a soft, evil hiss, and she screamed.

"I see you know what this is," I said. "How much can you stand...?"

I tapped it against my hand, not willing to do anything to her without knowing how much it hurt. After a few adjustments I got a sharp sting out of it. It made a disturbing little crackling noise when it arced, and she flinched each time she heard it. I applied it to her belly, without warning. Then a thigh, then the base of her breast, her nose, between her ass cheeks, her throat...

She was sobbing frantically.

"The voltage goes much higher... We could make a deal, Miss Cheryl. We'll make a lot of deals tonight. If you kiss me the way I like to be kissed -- slowly, wantonly, the way a slut kisses when she's begging to be fucked -- I might turn it off. Have you ever kissed a rapist, miss?"

Frantic moaning. I zapped her nipple, and got a scream. I lowered it slowly towards the other, watching the spark gather and suddenly arc. Another scream, and then she was crying through the gag.

"I think you will kiss me now," I hissed in her ear. She nodded frantically, and I removed the gag. I turned off the wand, but continued to stroke her nipples with it, as she kissed my mouth.

"I can turn it back on right now, slut. Kiss hotter."

Terror makes women kiss well, I learned. I fucked her mouth with my tongue, and slid the vibrator in and out of her. "You see," I whispered against her lips. "When you're a good girl there are rewards. What a sweet mouth you have. I'm going to enjoy making you choke on my cock. We'll go back and forth... you'll feel a burning desire to come, then terror, then the desire again... you're going to be so obedient when I'm done with you, slut. You'll crawl and beg and offer yourself. You'll give my friends and I everything we want...."