Previous chapters:
One

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Riley did not want to address in front of the two Female Registration and Compliance Officers, and she *definitely* did not want to allow the hated Tristan to see her naked body. 

And yet it had become clear to Riley that she was not in control of what was happening.  The two officers were more than capable of physically overpowering her, and they had demonstrated that they would not hesitate to hurt her if necessary.  Nobody had treated it as strange when the officers had taken her to this room, nor had anyone passing by outside made any comment, even though the door was wide open. 

“Please, can you at least close the door?” she begged. 

The male officer slapped her across the face, and Riley squeaked, and staggered back. 

“Don’t make this process harder than it needs to be, bitch,” said the officer.  “You can strip here, with the door open, or we can take you back out onto the airport concourse and strip you there, with everybody watching.” 

Riley looked at the door.  Two young men had paused to look into the room.  Both were grinning broadly, and neither seemed inclined to help her. 

“Dude, look at this cunt being documented,” said one. 

“God, I love watching these,” said the other.  “We probably can’t stay for the whole thing, because we need to get our luggage, but let’s at least watch her strip.”

“Do you think she’ll cry?” asked the first young man.  “It’s hottest when they cry.”

Riley did, indeed, feel like she might cry, but she was now resolved not to give these men the pleasure.

The officer was still looking at her questioningly, clearly ready to slap her again.

With shaking hands, Riley began to pull off her sweater.

The fabric blocked her view of the room for a few moments as it went over her head, and once it was removed she found herself looking at Tristan’s ugly, leering grin.  She blushed, and began unbuttoning her shirt.

Tristan took out his phone and began taking photos.

When she finished unbuttoning her shirt, and pulled it aside to reveal her bra-clad tits, there was a chuckle from Tristan, and hoots from the men outside.

“Look at those fucking udders!” said one.  “How good would it be to put your hands on them?”

“Forget hands, I’d stick my cock between them,” said the other.  “Fuckbags like that are just made to be decorated with cum.”

Next Riley kicked off her high heels, and then she reached behind her back to unclip her bra, hating how it thrusted her breasts forward, making them seem even larger and more prominent.  But it was worse when the bra was unhooked, and she had to lower the cups away from her tits, finally exposing her large melons to the gaze of the room.

“Nice slutbags, Kitten,” said Tristan as she stared at her large bosom.  “You’ve got the kind of whorish tits that show you were born to be raped.”

Riley recoiled from the crude, harsh words – and then recoiled further when the male officer slapped her again.

“Say thank you, cunt,” said the officer.  “You’re required to be respectful to men during the documentation, and that includes thanking them for compliments.”

“That wasn’t a compliment!” Riley objected – and got another slap to her face for her trouble.

“Bitch, you’re lucky it’s him slapping you,” said the female officer, standing a few paces away.  “Personally, I’d go a lot harder.  Now thank this nice man.”

She glared at Tristan.  “Thank you,” she said, sullenly – and then flinched, expecting a slap.  When they had made her apologise, they had made her be explicit about what she was apologising for.  Did that apply here too?

“Thank you for saying I have nice slutbags,” she said quickly, “and that I deserve to be raped.”

“You’re welcome,” said Tristan, grinning.  

“Keep stripping,” said the male officer.

Next came her skirt.  Her panties were nothing special – she hadn’t dressed today to please men – but in any case they weren’t going to be on her long.  Bright red with shame, shivering with powerlessness, she pulled the panties down her legs, to reveal her cunt and ass.

She kept her pubic hair trimmed, but not shaved, and there was an immediate grimace on the face of the male officer.

“Don’t worry,” said the woman.  “We’ll take care of that hair soon enough.”

Tristan seemed perfectly happy with the view of her pussy, though, and continued to take photographs of her.  

Riley tried to cover her breasts and her pussy with her hands.  The officers appeared willing to let her do so – for now – although she heard the woman mumble, “Makes attempt to cover body”, as she noted something on her tablet, which felt vaguely ominous.

“Very good,” said the male officer, staring at her body.  “Tell me, bitch – is your cunt lubricated?”

“What?” said Riley.  “No, of course it’s not.  How could I possibly get aroused from this?”

The male shook his head.  “If you are not naturally lubricated at the time we begin the procedure, it will be noted in your official record.  At a practical level, you will find much of the procedure to be incredibly painful if you are not wet, and in addition it could result in you being referred to a compulsory supplemental course to have your frigidity corrected.”

“My frigidity corrected?” she asked.  “What does that mean?”

The woman spoke now.  “It involves regulation with drugs, hypnotherapy some quite painful stimulation of your breasts and cunt, and a fair amount of corrective rape.  By the time it’s over I’m told that you’ll be completely unable to stop yourself juicing up from humiliation, pain, abuse, or being under male control.”

Riley shivered with fear.  “That’s insane!” she protested.

“You really want to avoid saying things like that,” said the woman.  “Because they go on your file, and feminist opinions like that can ALSO get you sent to a corrective course.”

The man spoke now.  “You may request five minutes in which to masturbate, in order to become lubricated,” he told her.  “You can have up to a further 10 minutes with the permission of a male in the room, such as your friend Tristan.  Do you wish to make that request?”

“Five minutes to get wet?” she asked.  “That’s… there’s nothing sexy about this… I can’t….”

The officer shrugged.  “You don’t have to,” he said.  “We can note your frigidity, and penetrate you unlubricated.”

“No, wait!” she protested.  She looked around, her eyes settling reluctantly on Tristan.  “Tristan,” she said, “can I have the longer period?  The extra ten minutes?”

“Of course you can, Kitten,” he said.  “I’m glad you asked.”  Then he pushed his chair back, and adjusted the front of his pants – and his cock sprang into view, as hard as stone, and with precum glistening on the tip.

“All you have to do,” he said, “is come over here and kneel in front of me, and stare at my cock while you masturbate.  It will help you think sexy thoughts.  And at the end of  your first five minutes, if you want more time, I’ll permit it, as long as you lean forward and kiss my cock.”

He laughed.  “You’ll need to kiss it once each minute for the next five minutes.  And then if you want the LAST five minutes, you’ll need to take the tip of my cock in your mouth and suck.”

She wrinkled her face.  It was gross, and she wanted to say so – but she remembered being slapped, and having to apologise, and the growing scowls on the faces of the officers as she resisted the process.

Instead, she did her best to wish Tristan dead using only the withering glare she gave him.

It didn’t work.  Tristan was still alive and grinning.

“Fine,” she said.  She came and knelt before him, legs spread apart slightly, her face bright crimson with shame.  She closed her eyes and reached for her pussy.

“No, no,” said Tristan.  “Eyes open.  Look at my cock.”  He reached out and grabbed her chin, causing Riley to flinch.

With some reluctance, she forced herself to focus on his erect cock as it bobbed inches in front of her face.

Now Tristan held out something to her in his palm.  It was a pill.

“Take this,” he told her.  “It will help.”

Riley did NOT want to eat some strange pill being offered to her by a man she hated.  But the officers weren’t saying anything.  And she needed Tristan’s agreement in order to have enough time to get wet.  And it was possible the pill WOULD help – something to make her horny, perhaps.

Deciding quickly, she took the pill from his hand, put it in her mouth, and dry-swallowed.

“Your time starts now,” said the male officer, and Riley began to rub her pussy.

It was difficult to become aroused or think sexy thoughts, naked and helpless in this sterile room, with strangers watching her, and staring at the cock of a man she despised.  She tried her best to think of some fantasy that would help – a handsome man, or a beautiful girl – but without closing her eyes she was to some extent stuck here in the reality of her degradation.

She *had* to get wet.  The words of the officer haunted her mind – “frigidity treatment”, “corrective rape”.  He had implied the procedure would be painful if she wasn’t “lubricated” – were they going to push things inside her pussy?

She moaned, and felt close to tears again.  “I can’t do this,” she whispered.

“How about I help you with some fantasies?” said Tristan.  “You know, I’ve dreamed of raping you so many times.  Sometimes I just push you up against a wall, rip off your clothes, slap you across the face, spread your legs apart with my knees, and then shove my cock into your twat.  Sometimes you’re wet for me when I do, and you can’t help bucking your slutty hips against my cock.  Sometimes you’re not, but honestly I don’t care because you’re prettier when you’re crying.”

It was horrible.  How could she get wet while listening to Tristan fantasise about raping her?  She couldn’t tune out his words – but maybe she could use her imagination over the top.  She pictured herself being forcefully fucked – not by Tristan, but by a popular, handsome actor who she had had a crush on for a long time…

“Sometimes I train you,” said Tristan, “and whip and pinch and clamp your tits, and only let you cum when your tits are in pain, until they *have* to be in pain for you to orgasm, and when I fuck you, you beg me to squeeze your udders as hard as I can, and punch them if necessary, just so that you can cum like the slut you are.”

She was starting to feel something – a warmth between her legs – her body beginning to respond to her desperate need to be aroused.  She felt the beginnings of slickness in her pussy.

“That’s five minutes,” said the officer suddenly.  He turned to Tristan.  “Mr Penhill, do you give her permission to continue?”

“Only if she kisses my dick,” said Tristan.  “How about it, Kitten?”

She groaned.  She was getting close.  She just needed more time.  There was nothing in the world she wanted to do less than kiss Tristan’s cock.  If anything, she wanted the grab the obscene thing and rip it from his body.  But…

Blushing, she leaned forward and kissed the tip of his dick.  She tasted his pre-cum, and hated that her initial reaction was that it tasted *good*.

“Good Kitten,” said Tristan.  “Keep playing with your sluthole.  And remember, another kiss, every minute.”

She kept masturbating.  And Tristan kept describing his fantasies – raping her in front of her friends and family, ejaculating on her face and making her post the results to social media, spanking her pussy until she orgasmed from the pain.

Every minute the male officer would speak – “Time” – and Riley would lean forward and kiss Tristan’s cock again.  Somehow it seemed to taste better on each occasion.

Then, suddenly, she had given Tristan his fifth kiss.

“That’s ten minutes,” said the male officer.  “Does she get another extension, Mr Penhill?”

“How about it, Kitten?” asked Tristan.  “Are you done?  Or do you want to suck?”

Riley was wet – but was she wet enough?  She knew she could become more aroused than this – at least, under normal circumstances, when she wasn’t putting on a degrading performance for strangers and a man she hated.

And then with a sick horror, she realised that for some reason she *did* want to suck Tristan’s cock.  His pre-cum had been getting more delicious with each kiss, and the thought of keeping that taste in her mouth suddenly had an overwhelming allure to her.  She felt sick – what was wrong with her?  Why would she want that?

But it *would* help to have more time to masturbate, and so…

She leaned forward and took Tristan’s cock into her mouth, and sucked.

It was incredibly – sweet and salty at the same time, like an expensive dessert.  She moaned with pleasure as she sucked.  She didn’t understand – this wasn’t her first time giving a blowjob, and it had never felt – or tasted – this amazing.  But her cunt was now beginning to gush with desire, and she could feel the sticky thickness of her slut-slime on her fingers as she rubbed her clit.

“Oh, does it taste good, Kitten?” asked Tristan.

Riley nodded, with her mouth full of cock, causing Tristan’s penis to bounce up and down.  Tristan gave a short gasp of happiness.

“I’d like to say it’s just my natural flavour, Kitten,” said Tristan.  “But the truth is that it’s that pill I gave you.  It’s new, and it’s quite expensive.  It’s keyed personally, to my pheromones and semen, and it just makes a little change in your body chemistry so that you experience pleasure from my sperm.  It tastes good in your mouth – and if you end up actually swallowing my cum, when it hits the pill in your stomach you’ll experience a burst of euphoria as good as any party drug.  I’m told that with repeated use, a woman can become quite addicted to a man’s sperm – and that the addiction can last even after the pill is withdrawn.”

She felt violated.  Tristan had changed what her body did and didn’t enjoy – with a pill?  She was being forced to enjoy the taste of his cum?  

And yet, she did enjoy it.  And she would likely be having to suck his cock anyway, to get the time she needed to become wet.  Wasn’t it better that it taste like this?  So… delicious?  So pleasurable?

And she knew, deep inside, that she *could* stop now.  She was wet enough.  She *should* stop.  But it felt good to rub her wet pussy.  And she wanted more of that taste.  She wanted to keep sucking Tristan’s cock.  

So she bobbed her head up and down on Tristan’s dick, and fingered her fuckhole.

And then, suddenly, Tristan was grabbing her hair, pulling her close to his groin.  Riley struggled as Tristan’s cock bounced off the back of her throat and made her gag, but his grip was like steel and she couldn’t get away.

And then he was cumming – cumming down her throat, into her belly.  She swallowed, and swallowed again….

And then the pleasure hit, as the sperm hit the pill.  It was better than any orgasm she had ever had – a wave of whole-body delight, that left her temporarily unable to think where she was, who she was, or what she was doing.  All she knew was that she had swallowed Tristan’s cum, and it was the happiest she had ever been.

And then it was past.  The pleasure had been intense – but brief.  Tristan was pulling his cock out of her mouth, and she was left, gasping and humiliated, with a stomach full of the man she hated’s sperm.

The male officer cleared his throat. 

Riley knew what he wanted from her.

“Thank you, sir,” she gasped, “for letting me rub my pussy in front of you, and thank you for letting me suck your cock and swallow your cum.”

She looked at the officer.  “I’m wet,” she continued, blushing.  “I’m ready to proceed.”

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