Charles had been dating Bella for five months when she was raped at work.
He liked her. She was fun, cute, and eager to please. But she was frustrating, too. He was sure she could be absolutely stunning – but she refused to put effort into her appearance, hiding behind baggy clothes, unstyled mouse-brown hair, and an ugly pair of glasses. And after five months, they still hadn’t had sex. Bella was chaste to the point of frigidity, terrified of being seen as a slut, paranoid about protecting her virginity.
She made fun of promiscuous women online. Just that morning she had described women with surgically-enhanced breasts as “porn cows”, and referred to a particular shade of blonde hair dye as “whore-in-a-bottle”.
So when she turned up in tears on his doorstep and said that her boss had raped her in his office during her lunch break, he was angry.
“Are you going to the police?” he asked her.
“No!” she exclaimed. “I can’t. Everyone would know… what he did to me. He has a security camera in his office. He might have filmed it. They might show it in court. They’d see me bent over his desk, with his… thing… in my…. private area. And I’d lose my job.”
That was what made him angry.
“I can’t believe you,” he said to her, pulling her over to the couch and pushing her down onto the cushions. “You refuse to so much as get naked in front of me for five months, and then your boss takes your virginity and you won’t even complain about it?”
“I’m sorry!” she wailed. “I didn’t mean it to happen!”
“Didn’t you?” Charles asked. “Are you sure some little sexually repressed part of you wasn’t begging for your boss to just take you, so you could enjoy the sex without having to take responsibility for your decisions?”
There was a flicker on her face, and he knew that he had hit home.
But she protested. “No!” she said. “No! Of course it wasn’t like that!”
“I should break up with you,” he said. “I should tell all your friends that you cheated on me with your boss. That you fuck your boss at work.”
She went wild. After a life of a carefully cultivated persona as a respectable, chaste, virgin, she couldn’t bear the idea of him telling her friends she was secretly a slut. “No!” she squealed. “Please! I’m sorry! Please don’t break up with me!”
“Prove it,” said Charles. “Do something to make it up to me.”
“Anything,” said Bella. And he could tell from her face that she thought she knew what he’d want. She thought he’d want to fuck her – and she was willing to give him that.
But he had more in mind.
“Get a makeover,” he said. “Let me take you to the hairdresser and pick out your new style. I think you could look a lot prettier than you do.”
She looked uncertain. This was better than spreading her legs for him – but what did he have in mind?
Nevertheless, she agreed. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it. I’ll do it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“I know,” said Charles. “Just do this makeover for me – and then don’t ever, ever fuck your boss again – and it will all be okay.”
She was in tears, so he sat next to her, and kissed her, and kissed her again, and she even let him surreptitiously move a hand to her tits, and squeeze her small breasts gently. She shuddered when he did – and the knowledge that she didn’t want this, but was letting him do it anyway, made it all the more erotic.
Bella didn’t stay the night. She went home to her own house. And when she was gone, Charles did some quick internet research to find the personal phone number of her boss.
“Hello?” said the voice on the other end of the phone, bleary with sleep. It had been late by the time Bella left. Her boss had gone to bed.
“I hear you fucked my girlfriend today,” said Charles, in an even tone.
“What?” spluttered Bella’s boss. “Who is this? It’s a lie. What did she say?”
“I don’t mind,” said Charles. ‘You can keep raping her. In fact, if you don’t want anyone going to the police, I think you really *should* keep raping her. Once a week would be ideal.”
“Keep raping her?” asked her boss. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to,” said Charles. “Just keep raping her. Every week. If you film it, that would be perfect. And whenever you rape her, just send me an email at this address to tell me that it’s happened. As long as you do that, I’ll make sure she doesn’t go to the police, and I’ll even make her more fun to rape.”
And he gave Bella’s boss his email – and repeated it, to make sure it had been written down – and then he hung up.
Bella was nervous at the hairdresser. “What are you going to get them to do to me?” she asked, as they stood outside.
He pressed an envelope into her hand. “Tell them you want to look like this,” he told her. “And then don’t change your mind or back out, no matter what happens, or I’ll tell everyone that you cockteased your boss into fucking you, starting with the hairdressers.”
He let her go in by herself, and watched through the window. A hairdresser led her to a chair, and Bella sat, and passed the envelope to the hairdresser.
Charles watched the look of shock as the hairdresser opened the envelope – and then he watched Bella’s face in the salon mirror as the hairdresser showed Bella what was in the envelope, and checked that she really wanted to look like that.
Bella had never looked so completely mortified and humiliated in her life. She looked like she wanted to crawl backwards into the chair and just vanish so no one would know she existed.
Charles decided that Bella looked very pretty when she was so embarrassed that she might cry.
The envelope had contained a picture of a nude blonde porn star with giant fake tits, lying on her back with her mouth open as if begging to suck a cock, and spreading her pussy for the camera.
Bella looked over her shoulder, back at Charles outside, her eyes pleading for mercy.
He had none.
And so Bella nodded, and said, “Yes, do my hair like that.”
It took hours for the hairdressers to finish. When it was done, Bella had porn-star hair – platinum blonde, long, and sexy. It was hair that got attention. It was hair that would make people look at her, and think about fucking her. It was hair that made her look a little like a bimbo. She already seemed less intelligent than she had that morning.
It was hair that Bella hated, and knowing that she had gotten it anyway, because Charles had told her to, made him want to fuck her right then and there.
He got a photo of her new hair right there at the hairdresser, and made her post it to her social media. He even had her hold the bottle of hair dye – so everyone could see it was the exact same brand and shade that she had so recently called “whore-in-a-bottle”.
That night, he made her “complete her apology”. He got her to kneel in front of him as he sat on the couch, and begin repeating the words, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m a slut. I’m sorry I seduced my boss. I’m sorry I made my boss fuck me. I’m sorry I’m a tease.” And as she repeated them over and over, desperate for Charles to forgive her, he took out his cock and started to masturbate.
She stopped when he did this. “Charles, what are you doing?” she exclaimed. “That’s gross. Put it away.”
“I can’t help it,” he told her. “It’s your new hair. It makes me want to rape you. It’s either this, or raping you. Do you want me to rape you?” He paused. “Or do you want me not to accept your apology, and break up with you, and tell everyone you’re a slut?”
It wasn’t a choice for her. “I’m sorry,” she said. She tried to look down, but he reached out and grabbed her hair, pulling her closer, making her look at his cock.
“I’m sorry I’m a slut,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I seduced my boss. I’m sorry I made my boss fuck me. I’m sorry I’m a tease.”
And he masturbated, aiming at her face, and when he felt his orgasm coming, he pulled her in close. His cock slipped into her open mouth, and as she gagged on the unexpected intruder, he began to ejaculate.
To his surprise, she closed her lips around his cock, trapping the cum inside rather than drooling it on the floor, and then she swallowed every last drop.
“Good girl,” he told her. “Apology accepted. Say thank you.”
She pulled back, gasping for air. “Thank you,” she said, not knowing what she was thanking him for, but eager to please.
“Now just be a good girl,” he said, “and never fuck your boss again.”
But a week later, her boss raped her for a second time, and filmed it, and sent the footage to Charles. Her boss told her the same thing that Charles did – that her new hair had made her impossible not to rape. Her boss sent her home with his cum still dripping from her violated pussy.
For Bella, one apology simply wasn’t going to be enough.