Previous parts:
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Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen


Bunny had no choice but to accept the reality that she was being paid to be objectified and sexually exploited. Her job was to please the eyes and libidos of her co-workers.

If she had had any doubts, they were erased by the reality of her work calendar.

It was Leroy’s idea. Her “mentor” had proposed it to her at their morning meeting on the day after Bunny had been fucked by CJ.

“I want you to make your online calendar public,” he told her. “So everyone can see your availability. It will make you more efficient.”

But it turned out Leroy wanted her to share more than just her work schedule. After she had blocked out a regular morning “mentorship” session with Leroy – and then added (at Emma’s request) a series of meetings marked only as “personal feedback”, which Bunny feared (and hoped) was a euphemism for being made to lick her boss’ pussy – Leroy had more for her.

“Now add your menstrual cycle,” said Leroy. “So we can see when you’re in heat, and avoid you when you’re PMSing.”

It was degrading, but Tim had made it clear that failing to follow her mentor’s advice might get her fired. Bunny blushingly filled in the details of her periods.

“And fill in whenever you use the toilet,” Leroy continued. “We want to make sure you aren’t wasting company time in the bathrooms.” He paused. “Oh, and fill in your sexual activity, too, whether at work or at home. Anything that stimulates your pussy, or any time you realise your cunt is wet, along with whatever you were thinking about at the time. We need to know when you’re all stupid with horniness, so we can disregard any opinions you have at that time.”

Bunny just nodded, and said she would, but had no intention of complying. She wasn’t going to share her sexual behaviour and fantasies with the entire company via her calendar. And when she rubbed her pussy that night while thinking about her beautiful boss Emma, she made no record of it at all.

But the next morning Leroy wanted to know why she had apparently gone 24 hours without taking care of her “natural womanly urges”, and then pulled off her skirt and panties and spanked her ass until she confessed that she had masturbated last night – and then he turned her over and delivered 10 sharp slaps to her naked pussy to discipline her for lying.

He told her that he would be asking her co-workers whether they had seen her aroused at the office, and that if he caught her in another lie, the consequences would be much more severe.

After that, she obediently documented her arousal, her masturbation and any other sexual encounters, albeit with as little detail about her fantasies as she thought she could get away with. 

And after that, she would occasionally find co-workers casually referring to her sex life.

When she was trying to find the office of an executive on the ninth floor, and stopped to ask directions, the man she was speaking to said, “Oh, that’s right, your pussy was wet this morning and you haven’t masturbated yet. You must barely be able to think straight at all.”

Later, when two men walked past looking for someone in Female Resources to file their paperwork, one went to stop at Bunny’s desk, but the other said, “Are you kidding? She’s in heat right now. She’ll forget all about it the first time something with a cock walks by.”

And when she was crawling past the procurement team, and one of the men called out to her, “Hey, cum-toilet, why haven’t you masturbated yet today?” she tried to pretend she couldn’t hear him, and tried to crawl faster, the man followed her, laughing, and said, “Calm down, sweet-cunt. Do you need me to find you a cucumber?”

Because her calendar showed that she had masturbated with a cucumber the night before, while watching the demeaning porn that Leroy assigned her as homework.

And the worst part of all of this was having to return to her desk after each humiliation and log just how *wet* the degrading objectification had made her.

The “cum-toilet” incident reminded Leroy how Bunny had agreed that “cum-toilet” was a better name for her than “breeder”, and he instructed her to go to IT and have her company email changed to “cum-toilet at”. Leroy’s “Renaming of Cunts Act” had just passed parliament, enshrining in law the right to refer to call women bitches, sluts, whores and cum-toilets, and removing their right to complain, so Leroy organised a little party to celebrate Bunny’s historic new email address.

Bunny felt like she was in a nightmare, as men and women clustered around her desk, calling her “Cum-Toilet” and laughing. Leroy stepped forward, with a glass of something white in his hand.

“We organised you a little present, Fuckbunny,” he said. “Drink up.”

When Bunny took the glass from him, she knew immediately what it was. Cum. And the glass was full, so it must have come from multiple different men.

Everyone was looking at her. She had no choice.

She drank it. 

“Good little cum-toilet,” said Leroy, and everyone laughed.

And later she had to document that she had drunk a glass of anonymous men’s cum, and that her pussy had gotten wet from it. And later still she added that she had masturbated that night while remembering it.


She crawled everywhere now. She simply couldn’t walk in the restrictive high heels. Sometimes she even forgot at home, and just crawled around her house.

And as she had guessed, she now spent a large section of every day licking Emma’s cunt. Honestly, this was something she looked forward to. Emma would allow her to masturbate, and she could think about any perverted thing she wanted and then get away with logging in her calendar that she had only been thinking about Emma’s pussy. She could often cum three or four times in a single session.

Sometimes these cunt-licking sessions would be just after Emma had been to a meeting with Tim or another man, and often she would have fresh cum dripping from her pussy when she returned, that Bunny would be expected to lick out of her. Bunny found she enjoyed the taste of sperm, and licking it from her boss’ cunt just made it even better.

If a licking session went across lunch-time, Emma would take some food and push it into her pussy for Bunny to lick out of her. Bunny knew this was demeaning, but it also made her blush with happiness. And anyway, it was nice to not have to think about what she would eat.

And always, whenever she made Emma cum, Emma would stroke her hair and call her a good slut. And that was the best thing of all. 

She would have preferred to hear “good girl” – but following the passage of the Renaming of Cunts Act, Kavenagh and True had banned the use of the words “girl” or “woman” in the office, and expected employees to say “slut”, “bitch”, “cunt” or suchlike instead.


Near the end of the week, an email came to Bunny at her “cum-toilet” address. It was from Tim, and it had apparently been sent to every slut in Female Resources.

“Don’t forget!” it read. “Keep your eye on the scoreboard! At the end of next week, there are treats for the good little sluts in the winning faction – and punishments for the sluts who score lowest!”

There was no further explanation, and Bunny was busy sorting the female employees of the company by the average of their rape-assessments, with sluts who had not yet been assessed on their rapeability going at the bottom with a “needs attention” marker. She shrugged and ignored the email, intending to ask someone about it later.

But that evening after work, she was stopped in the parking garage by three women. In the lead was Pumpkin Babymaker, still visibly pregnant, and behind her were two other women from Female Resources. All three wore bunny-symbol neck chokers.

“Can I help you?” asked Bunny nervously.

“Yes, you absolutely can help us, cunt,” said Pumpkin, stepping into Bunny’s personal space. “You can help us by earning some fucking points.”

“What do you mean?” asked Bunny. She stepped backward, but Pumpkin followed her.

“When you started work, the Bunnies were in second place on the office scoreboard,” said Pumpkin. “Now we’re in third, and in danger of slipping to last. If we’re in last place at the end of next week, we’ll be punished.”

Bunny suddenly remembered the four “factions” of Female Resources – Bitches, Cows, Bunnies and Kittens. Emma had introduced them to her when she had started, and marked her as a “Bunny”, but amongst all the humiliation and sexual harassment, Bunny had given no further thought to it.

“I’m sorry,” she said nervously. “What do you need me to do?”

“We need you to be a fuckbunny, you dumb slut,” said Pumpkin. As she spoke, the two women behind Pumpkin stepped forward and grabbed Bunny’s arms, pulling them behind her back – and then Pumpkin punched Bunny, hard, in the left breast.

Bunny squealed. “Stop it!” she begged.

Pumpkin punched her again.

“Good little bunnies fuck, and breed, and behave like pretty little pets,” said Pumpkin. “That’s what you need to do. You need to earn 100 points by the end of the week, or else we’ll make you wish you had never been born.”

And then Pumpkin kicked her in the cunt.

Bunny wanted to cry. These women were being so mean to her, and she hadn’t even *done* anything. She’d been trying to be good, and submit to the harassment at work, and not get fired – and now she was still getting bullied, and it wasn’t even by men, but by her fellow sluts.

“Okay,” she gasped. “I’ll earn points. I’ll get you your points. Please, just stop.”

Pumpkin punched her in the tits for good measure – and then nodded to the other women, and they released Bunny.

“See that you do,” she said. “We’ll be watching.”

And then they left Bunny alone in the parking garage, clutching her sore tits and pussy.

And Bunny wondered why she was, once again, so very, very wet.


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