After Skylar was raped by a co-worker – Morgan from IT – in a traumatic encounter in the stationary cupboard during an office party, she resigned from work. Even though she’d filed charges, Morgan got bail and kept his job, and she couldn’t bear to stay in that workplace and see him every day.
However, she found it difficult to find another job, and as Morgan’s trial approached, she ran out of money. She made enquiries with women’s help organisations, and that was when the Eurydice Foundation reached out to her.
The Eurydice Foundation was not a women’s help group – in fact, she found its offer incredibly demeaning to women… but she couldn’t disregard it. They offered a simple deal. She had to discontinue all birth control, and then turn up to a private house on three separate occasions. On each occasion, she would find it empty, and she would strip until she was wearing nothing but her high heels, and then she would spread her legs, bend over, grip her ankles, and close her eyes.
At that point someone would enter the room and fuck her. She would not see who it was, and she would keep her eyes closed until they had left and she heard her phone ring telling her it was okay to open them. If she completed all three occasions, they would pay her a quarter of a million dollars, plus the costs of either keeping or aborting any resulting pregnancy.
However, if she opened her eyes or looked back even once, to see who was fucking her, she would forfeit the money, and the Eurydice Foundation would control every aspect of her life for a year.
She dithered for a few days, and then finally agreed. She needed the money. They told her to discontinue birth control immediately, and scheduled her sessions over a week, immediately following when she was to give evidence in Morgan’s trial.
She turned up to the first session nervous and shaken. She had just been cross-examined for two days on her sexual history, on how slutty she dressed, on how she had led Morgan on and begged him to rape her. The defence suggested she moonlighted as a prostitute and she said she didn’t. So she was shaking as she arrived at the empty house she had been told to go to, undressed, parted her legs, bent over, and closed her eyes.
She heard the door open, and someone entered. Despite herself, she was wet – there was something sexy and naughty about this, and she quivered as she heard whoever it was unzip their pants, and then squeaked with delight as she felt his hard cock push into her moist cunt. She orgasmed twice as he fucked her and ejaculated inside her, and if anything, standing there afterwards as he left with his cum dripping from her fuckhole was even more erotic than the waiting.
It had turned out to be very pleasurable. Her only concern was, had she heard only one set of footsteps leave the house after her partner was done? Or had there been two?
She arrived two days later for the second session, already wet before she walked in the door. She got naked and into position, and blushed as she realised that lubricant was literally dripping from her pussy and pooling on the floorboards beneath her.
When the door opened, there was no doubt this time – there were two sets of footsteps entering the house. Maybe three. Was she going to be gang raped? She couldn’t decide if she was scared of the thought, or aroused. She wanted to look, but kept her eyes screwed shut. In the end, it was only the one cock that penetrated her. She had no idea if it was the same man as last time or someone different, but she orgasmed nosily three separate times as his dick violated her.
There were three days till the third session, and she spent them all in a state of heightened sexual awareness. She knew that any man she met might have fucked her, and she’d never know it. She blushed in any conversation with a man, and she found her cunt getting wet whenever someone looked at her. She secretly wished this next session wouldn’t be her last.
She turned up to it early, and masturbated for half an hour in her car before going in. She took up the position eagerly, barely able to wait to be fucked. Eventually the door opened, and… how many people were entering? Five? Seven? Ten? It seemed like a crowd. She paled, and felt some of her arousal leave her. She hadn’t signed up to let a crowd watch her get fucked. Or had she? She could barely remember the paper she had signed. She should have looked at it more closely.
She was still wet enough for the cock, though, when it entered her. She bucked her hips against it vigorously. She felt strange about this setup, and thought if she could make her partner cum quickly, it might end sooner. But her partner fucked her with a measured, vigorous stroke, and showed no signs of cumming.
She heard a cough from somewhere in the audience, and someone said, “Pardon me” – and she realised she knew that voice. Entirely without thinking, her eyes snapped open, and she looked back over her shoulder.
What she saw was the whole courtroom from Morgan’s trial. The judge, defence and prosecution counsel, and all members of the jury were lined up along the wall, watching her get fucked. And the man fucking her… was Morgan. She had been eagerly trying to make her rapist cum.
The jury foreman cleared his throat and said, “Your Honour, we accept the defence’s argument that Ms Leigh is fundamentally a whore who seduced the accused. She clearly is eager to have sex with complete strangers so we see no reason she wouldn’t consent to sex with Mr Morgan. We find the accused not guilty on all counts.”
Skylar wailed, and pulled herself away from Morgan. She huddled in a corner, trying to cover her nude body from the court’s eyes.
“I thank the jury for their verdict,” Morgan was saying. “And now, under the terms of her contract with me, Ms Leigh having opened her eyes during the proceedings, she’s obliged to accept my direction in each aspect of her life for the next year.”
“Agreed,” said the judge. “What do you intend to do with her, Mr Morgan?”
“I think I’ll get her a breast enhancement,” said Morgan, “and a tattoo indicating her consent to being raped by anyone who sees it. I don’t intend to press charges for the false allegation, but perhaps we could arrange for her to visit the jail each weekend and sexually service the prisoners? But first I think I’d like to finish impregnating her. Would the court mind holding her down while I finish fucking her?”
“Absolutely,” said the judge. “Counsel, if you’d each secure one of Ms Leigh’s legs, I believe it’s only fair to let Mr Morgan finish what he started…”
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