Ciaran walked into Alison’s office at 6 pm. Most of the people in the surrounding offices had gone home already, but Alison was still at her computer. Ciaran knew what she was doing, because his hidden cameras showed him – she was masturbating, while watching the footage of Ella Winslow being raped by Nathan Horrocks.
He didn’t bother to knock – he just walked in. And had the extreme pleasure of watching Alison jump as if she had been electrocuted. Her face went white, then deep, humiliated red. Her right hand, which had been squeezing her left tit, jerked to her side, and her left hand, which had been between her legs rubbing her pussy through her underwear, flew up to rest on the desk.
“Oh… uh… Ciaran…” Alison began. “I was just… working… “ Her breathing was heavy and her face flushed. She must have been close to an orgasm.
And then a series of other emotions began to flow across her face – a realisation of exactly what she had been masturbating to, where she had been masturbating, and the fact that she had done literally no work that day. She had a horrified, nauseated, guilty expression – and yet, she was clearly still horny.
Ciaran pretended that he didn’t see anything amiss. “What are you working on?” he asked, and before she could reply, he moved to her side of her desk, to look at her computer screen.
It was, of course, the security camera footage of Ella’s first rape. In the video, the girl was bent naked over Nathan Horrocks’ desk, crying, her tits pressed into the wood, as Nathan shoved his cock into her virginal anus.
From this position, Ciaran could also see that Alison’s skirt was pulled up to her waist, to let the contoured moulding of the “ergonomic” chair better press against her pussy and ass. Her legs were spread – the moulding forced her to sit spread-legged – and there was a smear of moisture on the seat between her legs.
Her arousal. Her pussy had literally been drooling onto the chair.
Alison had gone very still, mortified, sure her (to her mind, inexplicable) whorishness had been exposed.
But Ciaran still acted like he hadn’t seen anything strange. He focused on the screen, and tutted. “Terrible, isn’t it?” he said.
“Uh… yes,” said Alison. She was trapped in her current position. If she closed her legs, or attempted to lower her skirt, she would call attention to her position. Instead, she tried to surreptitiously pull her chair closer to the desk, so that her waist would be hidden beneath the desktop.
“You know, I’ve never watched the full video,” said Ciaran. “Too distressing. But I suppose I really should, if we’re really going to fix the workplace culture problem. Do you mind if I watch it with you?”
Alison looked at him with frightened doe eyes. Her first thought was to say that she needed to go home – but then Ciaran would expect her to stand, and pack – and when she stood, the state of her groin would be revealed.
So instead she said, “Sure.”
“Thank you,” said Ciaran, pulling up a chair. He looked at her face directly, and smiled, and said, “I really appreciate it, Alison. Thank you.”
Alison flushed an even brighter red – if that was possible – but looked suddenly happy. And Ciaran knew why. The hypnotic voice that she had been listening to all day was running through her head. “Pleasing men feels good.” She had just had a little confusing rush of joy at the knowledge that Ciaran was happy with her.
Ciaran rewound the video to its beginning, and set it playing.
Alison was silent by his side as it played – silent but for her breathing, which was still heavy. Her arousal hadn’t diminished. She had been sexually fixating on this rape all day, and as she watched it again, her pussy would be getting wetter, throbbing needily – and now Ciaran’s presence prevented her from touching herself and seeing to her urgent, slutty needs.
Ciaran didn’t have to use much imagination to picture what Nathan Horrocks was feeling as he shoved his cock into the unwilling girl’s ass. After all Nathan had let Ciaran take a turn with Ella on a couple of occasions. On the first occasion Nathan had made Ella beg Ciaran to rape her ass, and Ciaran had very much enjoyed having the girl seduce him into doing something to her that she clearly didn’t actually want. On the second, he had lived out a more violent fantasy, slapping the girl across the face and tits repeatedly until she cried, before violating her pussy and then cumming in her anus.
The girl’s ass was good. It was no wonder Nathan Horrocks was having so much fun on the video.
“Isn’t this terrible?” asked Ciaran. “I can’t believe we let something like this happen under our noses.”
“Yes,” said Alison, her eyes glued to the screen. “It’s going to take a lot of work to change the culture here, but I’m confident we can make it happen.”
The office smelled like sex. Ciaran could smell Alison’s cunt. He hoped that Alison was wondering about that, wondering if he could smell her whorishness, feeling herself grow small with shame and guilt inside. “Perverted little slut,” a voice in her mind was telling her. “Perverted little slut.”
It was no less than she deserved.
On the video, Horrocks ejaculated into Ella’s ass, and pulled out. They could both see his cum trickling from the girl’s anus on the video. Alison was breathing heavily, trying to process the idea that she was watching rape porn in the company of a man, in the office, with her skirt around her waist and her pussy wet.
“Well,” said Ciaran, when the video was over. “What do you think?”
Alison opened her mouth – and paused. Ciaran expected he knew why. An instinctive response had come to her, and she had almost said it out loud: “Girls deserve rape.” And now she was pausing, stopping herself, wondering why she had even *considered* saying something so awful, so fundamentally at odds with her core values.
“I… it’s a lot to take in,” she said instead.
“It is,” said Ciaran. Then – “Oh, have you eaten?” He said it in an off-hand way, as though it had only just occurred to him, but he was already producing another plastic, shrouded in plastic wrap, from a pocket. “This was for me, but I ended up eating out with my team. You have it.”
She looked at it, remembering the odd taste of the morning’s sandwich. “It’s okay…” she said.
“No, look,” protested Ciaran. “I know that starting at a new job is a lot. You must have been working really hard. I’d be really pleased if you ate this. I’d know I was helping.”
She looked at him helplessly. Pleasing men feels good, said her mind. And, after all, she was hungry. Masturbating all day burns a lot of energy.
“Okay,” she said, finally, and unwrapped the sandwich and began eating it.
As with the mornings, it was generously flavoured with his sperm. He watched as she unwittingly enjoyed a mouthful of his cum, mixed with ham, salad and bread. He smiled as she ate, and that smile again triggered a little burst of happiness within her. He wanted to associate that happiness with the taste of his cum.
Once she had eaten the last bite, Ciaran stood. “Well, I should be off home,” he said. “And you probably should be too.” He walked to the office door, opened it – and then looked back at Alison.
“By the way,” he said, “those white panties you’re wearing are very sexy. But I like red or pink better.”
And then he left.