Previous parts:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five
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Andrea White was pretty, in a small-titted kind of way. She had a cute face, and long silky light-brown hair, and she dressed well.
But none of that had been enough to save her.
“Andrea,” said Bunny, standing nervously beside the woman’s low desk in the Accounting section, “you’re being fired. You have 15 minutes to clean out your desk and leave the building.”
Andrea, whose workstation required her to kneel to use it, looked up at Bunny in horror. “What? Why?”
“Your performance has been unsatisfactory over several months now,” said Bunny. That was a lie – Andrea was fine at her job, but on Tim’s instructions Bunny had spent the morning altering Andrea’s personnel records to paint a picture of ineptitude and incompetence.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” demanded Andrea. “Whose decision was this?”
“It was my recommendation to Tim Bolland,” said Bunny. “I recommended that your position should be reviewed because your tits are so pathetically small and disappointing.”
She blushed as she said this. She couldn’t believe she was saying something so misogynistic and vile. But her instructions from Tim were clear – and if she got fired herself, she would lose access to the trust fund that sustained both herself and her mother.
There was some sniggering from the men at nearby desks as Bunny commented on Andrea’s tits. Andrea was the only woman working in this section, working at her demeaning kiddy desk while the men all around her had proper workstations.
“You cunt!” spat Andrea. “This is bullshit. I’m good at my job. And I need this pay – I have debts…”
“You should have thought of that when you chose not to upsize your tits to a less disappointing size,” said Bunny, primly.
She was completely unprepared for Andrea’s response. Andrea snarled – and threw herself at Bunny, tackling her around the legs. Surprised, Bunny fell to the floor – and then Andrea was on top of her, clawing at her flesh, ripping at her clothes.
There were hoots and hollers from the men of Accounting, who now gathered round to watch the catfight on the office floor. Bunny heard bets being placed as she desperately tried to ward off Andrea’s frenzied attacks. She thought someone might be filming the fight on their phone.
Andrea grabbed a handful of Bunny’s blouse, and pulled. Bunny heard it rip, and the buttons pop off from the front, exposing the blue fabric of her bra.
“You BITCH!” squealed Bunny. That was the second shirt that had been destroyed in the office in as many days. She pushed Andrea off her, hard, and when the other women fell on the ground beside her, she moved on top of her, pinning her down. Her knee was between the other woman’s legs, and her hands moved to pin Andrea’s wrists to the floor. Bunny’s chest was heaving with exhaustion, which she knew was emphasising her partially-exposed tits, but she couldn’t help it.
Part of her mind was working out how she could slap Andrea across the face without letting go of the woman’s wrists.
“All right, break it up,” said a male voice, and the crowd around the two women parted. It was Jake Hanset, the head of Accounting. “What’s going on here?”
Bunny wasn’t quite ready to move off Andrea. She was worried the other woman would attack her again if she let go.
“I was notifying Andrea that she had been fired,” said Bunny. “And she attacked me.”
“Well, it’s about time someone fired that bitch,” laughed Hanset. “Can you believe she made a harassment complaint against me last month?”
Bunny could believe it. She had read the report. There was, in fact, no doubt that Hanset had tried to rape Andrea in his office, and Andrea had resisted him. It was one of the chief reasons that Bunny had rated Andrea as having “disappointing tits”, leading to her dismissal today.
“You can’t do this!” protested Andrea, struggling against Bunny’s hold on her.
“Absolutely she can,” said Hanset, looking down at Andrea. “I want you gone as soon as you get up.” He paused. “But before you do, I think you two girls should end this fight by kissing and making up, don’t you?”
Bunny blushed. “I’m sorry for fighting with you,” she said to Andrea.
Andrea looked at her with disgust. “That’s not what he means,” she said.
“Then what…” said Bunny.
“Kiss,” said Hanset, sternly. “And make up. And it had better be sincere, Andrea, or else you’re not getting your last two weeks of pay.”
He wanted them to actually *kiss*. In front of all these men.
She didn’t have to, did she? She didn’t report to Hanset.
But she thought about what Tim Bolland would say. He would be disappointed. He might spank her (even if the thought of that wasn’t quite as de-motivating as it maybe should be). He might deduct points from her faction. He might fire her.
And besides, Hanset was a man – and Bunny had come to understand that if there was one rule at this company, it was that women obeyed men, no matter what the circumstances.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered – and then, still pinning Andrea’s wrists, she leaned down and kissed Andrea on the mouth.
Andrea must have needed her pay desperately, because she kissed Bunny back passionately, even going so far as to stick her tongue into Bunny’s mouth. Bunny felt weird, kissing another woman – especially with all these men watching – and even weirder when she heard one of the men say, “Fucking lesbian sluts,” provoking laughter from the other men. But even as her face coloured with a pretty blush, she felt her pussy throb inexplicably with a needy wetness.
Experimentally, without really meaning to do so, she moved her knee up harder between Andrea’s legs, pushing into Andrea’s pussy – and she felt Andrea moan into her mouth in response.
Then the kiss was over, and Bunny was releasing Andrea and standing up, Bunny’s hair was a mess, and her shirt was ruined. In addition to the buttons being missing, there was a large rip down the back.
“I’ll take care of this bitch,” said Hanset to Bunny, pointing at Andrea on the floor. “Why don’t you run about your business, sweet-tits?”
“Thank you, sir,” said Bunny – and as she walked away, she heard Andrea beginning to cry behind her, long sobs of humiliation and despair.
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She had four more women to fire, but instead of going to the next name on her list, she went to see Tim. She got down on all fours and crawled through the dog door of his office, to find him alone, reading a report on his computer.
“Good morning, Fuckbunny,” he said, as she stood. “How can I help you today?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” said Bunny. “I was firing the first woman on my list, and she damaged my shirt. Is there any chance you have another spare?”
Tim gave her a long, considering look, and Bunny blushed – not just because her bra was exposed, but because she felt like she was disappointing Tim, and despite everything that actually made her feel guilty.
“I’m going to have to discipline you for losing your clothes again, Bunny,” said Tim. “Take off those ruined clothes, and come and lie on my lap, and when we’re done I’ll give you a replacement.”
Bunny stripped off her shirt, and started to move towards Tim, but he stopped her.
“All of them, Bunny,” he said. “Take them off.”
“The other clothes aren’t damaged, sir,” objected Bunny.
Tim stood, and walked over to her – and then slapped her across the face. Bunny gasped, and staggered backwards.
“Take off all the damaged clothes, Fuckbunny,” he told her. “And don’t ever contradict me again.”
She whimpered – and obediently began to strip. She supposed Tim had seen her tits before, when she had borrowed a shirt from him last night. And he’d definitely seen her ass and pussy when he’d spanked her – and brought her to two orgasms. This was nothing new.
But still, standing completely nude in a man’s office was humiliating.
Tim had returned to his seat. “Come here,” he said, patting his lap. Bunny walked over, and awkwardly laid herself across his lap, ass up. She could feel the tent of his erect penis in his pants, poking against her groin as she lay there.
“Tell me what you are,” said Tim.
“I’m a dumb cunt,” said Bunny quietly. “I’m a stupid dumb cunt, sir.”
“Good girl,” said Tim. “Keep going.” And with that, he took the black leather paddle out of his desk drawer, and began to spank her.
Bunny’s ass was still bruised from yesterday, so each strike of Tim’s paddle hurt even more than it had the last time – and yet, it was better, too. Each time he hit her, it was a solid thud, that reverberated through her whole groin, sending waves of impact through her cunt that had a deliciously erotic effect.
“I’m a dumb slut,” she whispered. “I’m a stupid cunt. All women are stupid bitches. I’m such a dumb bitch.”
WHACK. WHACK. WHACK. The world was reduced to her degrading statements, the fire in her ass, and the wetness in her cunt. Each blow hurt so much – but it was a good hurt, and she found herself moaning like a whore with each impact.
“Please let me cum,” she heard herself gasp. “I’m a dumb cunt. Please finger my cunt. Please. I’m so stupid.”
And then suddenly the paddle wasn’t striking her. Instead, Tim was pushing the handle up into her twat, and Bunny felt herself bucking against it, and then beginning to deliciously, whorishly, humiliatingly orgasm on Tim’s lap.
And then it was over, and Bunny felt the guilt and shame rush back. She had come to this firm with such high hopes for a professional career – and in her first week she had already orgasmed from letting a man spank her at the office not once but twice. What kind of slut was she?
Her mind supplied the answer. She was a stupid dumb cunt.
She blushed, and pushed that thought away.
“Get up,” said Tim, and Bunny obeyed. Tim stood, and extracted two items of clothing from the same cupboard he had gotten the shirt from yesterday. He passed them to Bunny. “Wear these.”
Bunny quickly put on the clothes, eager to dress herself before someone walked into the office and saw her naked. But once they were on, she realised the clothes weren’t much of an improvement. The white blouse was semi-transparent, and the shape of her tits and the dark circles of her areolae were clearly visible through it. The black skirt was tiny, and its hemline only barely came down further than her pussy. There was no underwear provided, and Tim had made no offer to give her back the clothes she had been wearing previously – which appeared to have vanished back into the cupboard these new clothes had come out of.
“Sir…” said Bunny nervously. “I can’t wear these. People can see my breasts.”
Tim shrugged. “Then take them off.”
Bunny looked at the cupboard that had swallowed her old clothes, but Tim ignored her, and it was obvious no alternative clothes would be offered if she chose to strip. She whimpered.
“Here,” said Tim, “have a lollipop.” And he passed her one of the sugar-free lollipops he had given her last night.
Bunny blushed, because she knew what she was expected to do with it. Her cheeks flaming bright red, she took the lollipop from Tim – and then pushed it into her wet cunt. The skirt was short enough that accessing her pussy was easy. Then she pulled it out, covered with her fuck honey, and popped it into her mouth, tasting the mix of sweet candy and salty cunt juices.
“Run along now, Bunny,” said Tim. “You still have four bitches to fire, don’t you?”
She did. She got down on all fours – knowing that the posture fully exposed her bare ass and pussy to Tim’s gaze – and crawled out the dog door.
As Tim said, she had bitches to fire.
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