Emma’s Division is the sequel to my novella-length story Emma’s Policy – An Executive’s Slide Into Workplace Submission, which you can buy for only $3.99 USD from my creator site! (Click here to view in store.)

Previous parts:
 | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six


None of the other women with “disappointing tits” gave Bunny as much trouble as Andrea. Of course, none of them were happy about being publicly dismissed for being flat chested and unattractive, but at least none of them actually attacked Bunny.

Bunny felt like a complete traitor to her gender, dressed in the slutty outfit Tim had given her that basically exposed her entire breasts, telling women to pack up their desks because they didn’t have bimbo tits. She felt part of her brain hating these women for making her do this. If only they’d gotten bigger boobs, and been nicer to men, Bunny wouldn’t have to betray all her ideals like this.

The last woman, a pretty (though small-titted) blonde who worked in IT, begged Bunny to let her stay. She actually offered to lick Bunny’s pussy, and become Bunny’s sex slave, if only she could keep her job. It happened in front of an entire room of men, and Bunny felt mortified to have this woman begging to be her sex-pet as all her co-workers watched. She had to tell the woman that no, her decision was final, and she should have thought about being a fuckslave earlier if she wanted to keep working here.

Through it all, Bunny kept sucking on the lollipop Tim had given her – and, per his instructions, every five minutes it went into her pussy, and then back in her mouth. She didn’t even think about disobeying him. Mostly she was able to time these insertions between conversations, plunging it into her fuckhole surreptitiously in corridors or secluded corners. But twice she had to do it while firing a woman. Once, she thought she got away with it, because the angle of a nearby desk prevented anyone from seeing what she was doing. But the second was in front of the blonde who had offered to lick her pussy, and she *knew* the blonde had seen her. She thought it might be what had given the blonde the idea.

By the time she was done firing the women, she was also done with the lollipop. 

She reported her success back to Tim. When she came through his dog door on all fours, and started to stand, he stopped her.

“No,” he said. “You can talk to me from down there.”

And so she blushingly gave her report from a position on all fours. 

When she was done, he came over to her, and patted her on the head, like a pet. “Good girl,” he said – and despite herself, Bunny felt a surge of pleasure at the praise.

Then Tim said, “Open up,” and without thinking, Bunny opened her mouth. Tim popped something inside her mouth, and said, “A treat. Swallow.”

Whatever he had put in her mouth was dry and salty and didn’t taste nice at all. But she swallowed obediently. “What was that?” she asked, once it was down.

“A kitten treat,” said Tim, smiling – and held up a bag, labelled “Special Kitty Protein Treats”, which showed a plump cat with luxurious white fur. “I know you’re a bunny, not a kitten, but this is all I have. It will help put some shine in your hair.”

Bunny felt sick. He had fed her *pet food*. She gagged.

“If you beg, I’ll give you another treat,” said Tim.

Bunny didn’t *want* another treat. But she also knew that not playing along with Tim’s game wouldn’t go well for her. It was best to keep him happy, and then try and figure out what to do about this horrible job when she had some breathing space.

“Please, sir, can I have…” she began – but Tim silenced her with a “ssh”.

“Not like that,” he said. “I want to see a good little pet.”

Bunny was initially confused, and had to think. She didn’t know how bunnies might beg – but she had seen other pets. She rose up into a kneeling position, and held her hands out like paws, in front of her tits. Then she opened her mouth. She knew she must look ridiculous – like a human playing at being a puppy or a kitten – but she thought this was what Tim wanted.

It was. “Good girl!” he said – and it was unmistakably the way a person might talk to an animal. And he tossed another treat at Bunny. She caught it in her mouth, and swallowed quickly, before she had to taste it.

“Now, I think it’s about time you took part in the Female Mentoring Program, Fuckbunny,” said Tim. “You need a man to help you manage your career, and I’m too important and busy to waste time on a dumb cunt like you. I’ve arranged someone to help you out. Go and see Leroy Grainer on the third floor, and tell him you’re his new mentee.”

“Yes, sir,” said Bunny. She didn’t want a mentor – but it seemed she didn’t have a choice. “Thank you, sir.”

And she crawled out of his office.


Bunny had thought the name “Leroy Grainer” was familiar, and when she reached the third floor and walked into the Policy and Advocacy team, she realised where she knew it from.

Leroy was barely 18, wearing a shirt and tie that were a little too big for him, with the hair on his teenaged head shaved down to stubble. He looked like a dumb teenager – because he *was* a dumb teenager. And Bunny knew him from school, where had had been three grades below her, a snot-nosed kid that she’d largely ignored.

Here, he must have been an intern – literally the lowest-ranking male in the entire company – and yet Tim had assigned him as Bunny’s mentor.

His eyes lit up when he saw her. “Oh my God!” he laughed. “It’s Fuckbunny! Hey, everyone, it’s Fuckbunny! I went to school with her!”

Of course he knew her full real name. Everyone at school had known it, ever since the first teacher had read it out loud off her enrolment records. And the crueller kids had known she hated it, and therefore called her by it at every opportunity.

When Leroy spoke, the older men working in the open-plan office area turned to stare at Bunny. She blushed, and tried to cover her tits with her arms, but that only drew attention to them.

“Wow, what happened to your *tits*, Fuckbunny?” asked Leroy. “They’re huge now! You look like a sex-doll!”

While Bunny’s name had been common knowledge at school, the peculiar arrangements around Bunny’s trust fund, and the demeaning demands of her father, had been a secret. Leroy had never seen her with her new fake tits, and she didn’t intend to explain herself to him now.

“Tim Bolland sent me to you to engage in the Female Mentoring Program,” said Bunny, “but there’s clearly been a mistake. You’re younger than me. You can’t be my mentor.”

‘The fuck I can’t!” said Leroy, sauntering up to her. “Haven’t you read the company’s policies? Every woman, no matter how important she thinks she is, is the subordinate of every man. Any man inherently knows more about how you should live your life than you do.” He looked up at an older man – possibly his supervisor. “Isn’t that right, Steve?”

Steve was still staring at Bunny’s tits. “Your name’s Fuckbunny?” he asked. “Listen to the kid. He’s a fast learner. Women who have mentors in this company do way better than ones who try and go it alone. Plus, if Tim told you to listen to Leroy, then you should do what Tim says. You don’t want to piss that guy off.”

Bunny blushed unhappily. “Leroy,” she said, in a quiet voice. “I have a degree. I’m qualified…”

“Fuckbunny, you’re standing here in front of a man in a see-through top and a skirt that shows your ass, trying to explain that you’re an intelligent woman who can take care of herself,” said Leroy. “Don’t you see the contradiction here?” He paused. “Do I have to call Mr Bolland and tell him that you’re being difficult?”

“No,” said Bunny unhappily.

“Good,” said Leroy. He pulled out a thick wad of paper, and dropped it on the floor in front of her, along with a pen. “This is the mentorship contract. Initial every page, and sign at the end.”

Bunny stooped to pick it up, but when she did, Leroy put his hand on her head and pushed her down to her knees. “The floor is fine,” he said. “You can sign it down there.”

Bunny squirmed. In a position on all fours, the whole office could see right up her tiny skirt, to her bare ass and embarrassingly wet pussy. She wanted to get up, but Leroy kept his hand on her head.

“Nice cunt,” she heard someone say from behind her.

“Look how wet she is,” said someone else. 

Bunny was mortified. The contract was dozens of pages long. She knew she should read it all, but every minute she spent in this position let people stare at her pussy. She began to hurriedly initial each page. At the end she signed her full name – “Fuckbunny Penrose”.

Leroy peered at her signature. “Here’s your first bit of mentorship advice,” he said. “Make your signature prettier, and more girly. Add some love hearts and stuff. Then kiss it and leave a lipstick mark. And then sign documents that way from now on.”

Bunny’s face was red with humiliation. She quickly drew a love heart before and after her name, added some sparkly dots, and wrote “XOXO” off to one side. Then she leaned in and kissed the paper, leaving a red outline of her lips on the paper from her lipstick. 

The signature looked like the mark of a stripper or a sex-pet. She hated it.

Leroy bent and took the paper and pen from her. “Good girl,” he said. “Now, come over to my desk and let’s talk a little about your career aspirations and goals, shall we?”

She started to stand up, but Leroy stopped her again. “First lesson,” he said, “women walking is unattractive. Don’t get off on the wrong foot – which is any foot at all, for a woman. Crawling is fine.”

“Please, don’t do this to me,” said Bunny in a small voice. “Please, Leroy. We went to school together.”

Leroy ignored her, and walked to a nearby desk. 

Bunny wanted to stand up, and walk out – but she didn’t know what would happen if she did. Leroy would tell Tim, and then Tim would – she didn’t know. Hurt her? Fire her? Humiliate her?

She felt the eyes of the whole office on her.

Reluctantly, she crawled on all fours to Leroy’s desk.

“Okay, Fuckbunny,” said Leroy. “Let’s start with some simple questions. Number one. Why is your cunt wet?”

Bunny blushed. She had hoped he hadn’t seen that. She didn’t know what to say. “That’s such an inappropriate question,” she said. She was still hoping she might have some authority with Leroy from when she had been three grades above him in school.

She didn’t. Leroy just raised his voice, so everyone on the floor could hear him, and asked again. “Fuckbunny – tell me why your cunt is so disgustingly, whorishly wet.”

“I don’t know,” said Bunny.

Without warning, Leroy slapped her across the face. “Don’t lie to me, Fuckbunny,” he snarled.

Bunny was outraged. “You hit me! You can’t hit me! That’s assault! It’s a crime!”

“The fuck it is,” replied Leroy. He held up the contract. “Clause 39. You specifically requested, and gave permission, for me to physically discipline you in any way I chose, to help you be more pleasing at work and advance your career. Clause 40. You waived all right to make criminal or civil complaints relating to my behaviour towards you. I can slap you, punch you, or beat you however I want, in the name of helping you be a vaguely acceptable fuck-pig for this office, Fuckbunny.”

Bunny was aghast. She could see the words he was pointing at. He was correct as to what they said. What had she signed? Why hadn’t she looked at the contract more closely.

“Now, if you don’t want to get slapped again, tell me why your fuckhole is dripping, Fuckbunny,” said Leroy. “And make it loud enough for everyone to hear, or you’ll be sorry.”

She still didn’t know what to say – but then she realised that Tim may have already told Leroy what had happened in his office. Or if not, then he might tell Leroy in future. If she told anything but the truth, Leroy would know.

But… loud enough for everyone to hear? She couldn’t. She just couldn’t.

Leroy raised his hand, ready to slap her.

“Mr Bolland spanked me in his office this morning for being a bad girl and losing my clothes, and it made me wet,” said Bunny quickly, in a loud voice. “And then he put his spanking paddle in my pussy. And then I’ve been walking around in slutty clothes, and the embarrassment keeps making me wetter.”

There it was – the thing she hadn’t even admitted to herself. The constant humiliation of working at Kavenagh & True was arousing her. And hadn’t that been true all her life? Hadn’t she felt her cunt pulse at school every time someone called her “Fuckbunny” or referred to her as “the sex rabbit”? Hadn’t she had the best orgasms of her life the day after having her breast expansion surgery, when she’d seen her new tits in the mirror, and realised she would look like a sex doll for the rest of her life, and frantically masturbated for hour after hour until she was too sore to continue? 

No. Of course not. That would make her a slut. That would make her a traitor to her gender. It would be disgusting. 

And so, like every other time she had come close to acknowledging those thoughts, she forced them down and repressed them, immediately forgetting the last part of the confession she had just made to the whole office. 

She was a good girl. She didn’t get wet from degradation.

Leroy was just smiling. “Let’s go over some career goals for you, Fuckbunny. Let’s start with rapes. What’s your ideal number of times to be raped per week?”

“Zero!” said Bunny immediately.

Leroy frowned. “That’s not very ambitious, Bunny,” he said. “That’s the kind of goal a girl would have if she only wanted to work here a few months and then get fired for having disappointing tits. I want to raise that ambition up to the point where you’re hoping for at least a couple of rapes a week.”

“I don’t want to be raped at all!” protested Bunny.

“I know, and if you don’t want to be raped, it may never happen,” said Leroy. ‘You have to aim higher. It’s a good thing you came to me for mentorship, Bunny, because you were on completely the wrong path.” He rummaged in his desk drawer, and brought out a USB. “This drive has four really good pieces of rape porn on it. Two of them are actual non-consenting women, the other two are staged. I want you to watch one each night at home while masturbating to orgasm, and the next day I’ll ask some questions about it to make sure you watched it. If we practice each night, soon you’ll be aspiring to a good schedule of real-life raping.”

He looked at her, realised she didn’t have pockets, and then reached down between her legs. Before she could react, he had pushed the USB drive up into her cunt. “Legs together, bitch,” he said, and Bunny obediently closed her legs to trap the drive in her fuckhole. Leroy’s hand came away sticky with her cunt slime, and he casually wiped it clean on her face.

“Next question,” he said. “What’s your plan to make yourself more rapeable?”

Bunny whimpered. She didn’t want to be raped. But it was becoming clearer and clearer to her that if she worked at Kavenagh & True long enough, it was going to happen.

“I don’t have a plan,” she said quietly.

“I don’t have a plan, sir,” corrected Leroy. “I don’t want to catch you forgetting that ‘sir’ with a man again, understand?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” said Bunny. “I don’t have a plan, sir.”

“Right,” said Leroy. “Well, I want you to see me first thing tomorrow morning, and I want you to have three ideas to make yourself more rapeable. And then we’ll workshop them. If you don’t have three good ideas, I’m afraid this mentorship isn’t going to work out, and I’ll have to complain to Tim.”

“Yes, sir,” said Bunny. “I understand.”

“Good girl,” said Leroy. “Now, thank me for slapping you. Loud enough for everyone to hear. Tell me you’re a dumb slut and you deserved it.”

“Thank you for slapping me, sir,” said Bunny, loudly. “I’m a dumb slut and I deserved it.”

There were some chuckles from the nearby men.

“Good girl,” said Leroy again. “Do you know what we do here, in Policy and Advocacy?”

Bunny shook her head. She didn’t – and not knowing made her feel like maybe she *was* a dumb slut.

“We create political and cultural change on behalf of rich investors,” he said. “Currently, we’re working on getting up laws that would make a range of words for women legal and non-offensive in all contexts. They would make the words slut, bitch, cunt, bimbo, whore, fuckpig, cow, skank, breeder and cum-toilet legally interchangeable words for ‘girl’ and ‘woman’, and remove any right for women to complain about their use. We’ve been working on getting blackmail material on women politicians for years now, and when the ‘Renaming of Cunts Act’ goes before parliament next week, every woman from every political party is going to vote in favour of it. Isn’t that amazing?”

Bunny felt sick. Was this real? And was she really working for a company that was making it happen?

“Do you think it’s more accurate to refer to you as a breeder or a cum-toilet, Fuckbunny?” asked Leroy, grinning.

The word “breeder” made Bunny shiver. She remembered her conversation with Emma about birth control. She didn’t want to get pregnant. She didn’t want to give Leroy that idea.

“People should refer to me as a cum-toilet, sir,” she said, quietly.

“Okay, cum-toilet,” said Leroy. “Now crawl along back to your desk. And I’ll see you tomorrow, first thing.”

She obediently crawled away. And because she was trying to keep her thighs together, to trap the USB drive in her cunt, she couldn’t help but be aware of how sopping wet she was, as each movement of her legs smeared her cunt juices back and forth across her thighs.

How had she come to the point where she was letting a whole office see her wet pussy as she crawled away from them on all fours?

The answer, of course, came to her immediately. She had said it enough times that day already.

She was, truly, a stupid cum-toilet.


If you enjoyed this story, please support its creation with a purchase from the ATR shop! (Click here to view.)


One thought on “Story: Emma’s Division, Part 7

Leave a Reply