Story: The Parole Officer, Part 10

Previous chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine

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Chris was almost ready to cum in Amelie’s mouth again by the time they reached her apartment building, but rather than holding her down and face-fucking her until he ejaculated, he exercised some uncharacteristic restraint, and tucked his cock back in his pants, still hard, so that she could direct him into the basement parking, and find her parking spot. 

Chris didn’t give her her clothes back, and so Amelie was forced to exit the car naked.  She had a momentary surge of panic over the idea that there was now a stolen car parked in *her* parking spot.  If it was found, there would surely be questions for her that she couldn’t answer.  But it was mostly buried beneath the larger panic of being completely nude in her own apartment building, where people knew her. 

Chris was still escorting her, and she didn’t know if that made it better or worse. 

It was the middle of the working day, and the building was quiet, at least.  They were able to ride the elevator to the fifth floor without encountering any other humans.  And, on the fifth floor, the long hallway of apartment doors was also empty.  A blessing. 

Amelie wanted nothing more than to run to her apartment – number 513 – and escape inside.  But there was something else she needed to do first – and the idea of disobeying didn’t even occur to her. 

“Wait, Chris,” said Amelie, blushing, in the hallway.  “The client who… fucked me.  He told me I had to… play with myself on my front doorstep.” 

“Damn,” said Chris.  “And you’re going to do it?  You sure are a slut, miss.” 

Amelie wanted to melt into the floor to hide.  But she stood outside her apartment, and pulled off the duct tape – grateful for her waxed pussy, which gave it no hairs to grip – and then slid her fingers into her fuckhole.   

It was still wet with Gary’s sperm, and she began to work the semen further up inside her, into her womb, masturbating herself with her fingers.  Her eyes scanned the hallway frantically, sure that some door would open, and a neighbour would see her. 

“It’s okay, miss,” said Chris.  “It’s dead quiet.  It must be that no-one’s home.” 

“No,” said Amelie, shaking her head.  “These apartments are soundproof.  There could be a raucous party behind one of these doors and we’d never know.” 

She masturbated harder, faster, desperate to cum quickly before she was caught, not caring that she was pushing a rapist’s cum up into her babymaker, increasing her chances of impregnation.  She felt her nipples hardening, her breathing quickening. 

“Gosh, you’re such a whore,” said Chris, watching her – and the words only made her wetter. 

And then she was cumming – cumming hard – and her knees felt like they might give way.  She braced her free arm against the wall as she shook with the orgasm, holding her upright.  With the hand she had been masturbating with, she now frantically dug Gary’s cum out of her twat and brought it to her lips, sucking it eagerly from her fingers, and repeating, until she had removed as much of the rapist’s sperm from her fuckhole as she felt she could manage. 

And then she was finally free to unlock her door and stagger into her apartment. 

“Don’t worry, miss,” said Chris.  “You’re home now – and we can get you nice and clean.  Which way’s your bathroom?” 

Amelie pointed, and allowed Chris to lead her to her bathroom, assuming that he would put her in the shower.   

But when they got to the combined shower and toilet, Chris reached down and picked up the toilet brush from next to the toilet – the sort that was a straight rod, covered with wiry bristles near the end. 

“This should do,” said Chris. 

“Chris,” said Amelie with alarm.  “What are you…” 

“Now, hold still, miss,” said Chris, advancing on her with the brush. 

Amelie tried to back away, and raised one arm to defend herself.  Chris responded by lashing out with his free hand, slapping her tits, hard – and when she lowered her hand to protect her tits, he slapped her across the face.  Then he grabbed her, and pushed her down, until she fell to the bathroom floor, landing on her ass. 

“Got to get you clean, miss,” he told her – and used his foot to push her legs apart.  Then he knelt between them. 

“Chris,” said Amelie, “please don’t.” 

“That’s sweet,” said Chris, “but we both know how you like being forced.” 

And he used one hand to push her legs even farther apart – and then he pushed the end of the toilet brush into her cunt. 

She squealed with disgust, humiliation, and pain.  The wiry bristles HURT!  And was the brush even clean?  It wasn’t meant to go *there*! 

But Chris was pushing it deeper – and then he began to twist.  She felt the spiky bristles turning against the inside of her fuckhole.  She screamed.  It wasn’t that it hurt that badly – although it did hurt.  It was just the violation and humiliation of the thing. 

“It’s okay, miss,” said Chris.  “You can have a good scream if you want to, given as to how you said these apartments are soundproof.” 

It was true.  No one would hear her. 

Chris twisted the brush again, and then fucked it in and out of her a little. 

“It looks real good in there, miss,” he said.  “Almost like it was meant to go there.  I guess a woman’s cunt is a bit like a toilet, huh?” 

She moaned. 

“This is what you wanted when you called me up, right?” said Chris.  “You knew I was a rapist when you called me, so I figured you wanted what all women want, when they’re honest – you wanted me to treat you like the animal you are, and take all your choices away, and give you the treatment you know you deserve, right?” 

Was that what she had wanted?  Surely she had had other options other than asking for a convicted sex offender to drive her home.  Had this been what she secretly wished would happen? 

He fucked her cunt with the toilet brush a little more.  Amelie felt tears at the corners of her eyes. 

Chris looked down at the brush stuffed up Amelie’s twat.  “You know what?” he said.  “Maybe we just leave it there a while.  You look real pretty with a toilet brush in your cunt, miss.  It would be a shame to take it out, really.  Why don’t you thank me for it?  Thank me for pushing a toilet brush up your cunt.” 

“Thank you,” gasped Amelie.  “Thank you, sir, for pushing a toilet brush up my cunt.” 

“Good girl,” said Chris.  “Now let me show you something.”  

He grabbed her hair, and pulled, forcing Amelie to come forward, and then rise into a position on all fours.  Still holding her hair, he dragged her across to the toilet, where he lifted both the lid and the seat to reveal the cool porcelain of the bowl itself. 

“Why don’t you rest your tits there, right on the edge of the bowl?” he told her. 

Amelie was still distracted by the brush shoved up her pussy, but she knew she had no choices.  She did as she was told, and placed her tits on the edge of the toilet.   

“Good girl,” said Chris.  Then he closed the seat, and the toilet lid, so that both were resting atop Amelie’s breasts. 

“Now put your arms on the lid,” he told her, and Amelie did so. 

Then Chris grabbed Amelie’s hips, and lifted them up. 

Suddenly the change in posture meant that half of Amelie’s weight was resting on the toilet lid – which was pushing down on her tits, crushing them against the toilet bowl.  She squealed.  Her own posture was holding her breasts trapped. 

“Doesn’t that feel good, miss?” asked Chris. 

It did not.  It was agonising.  She had never felt such pain in her breasts before.  And the whole position was so degrading! 

But Chris didn’t care.  He had opened her medicine cabinet, and was looking through it – and found what he was after quickly: a bottle of baby oil. 

He opened the bottle and slathered some liberally over Amelie’s anus, and over his own cock, and Amelie went even wilder because she realised what was about to happen.  She had never had anal sex before – and now Chris was about to force his cock into her butt? 

“Please…” she begged.  “Please, no…” 

But her struggles only seemed to make Chris more eager.  She felt his cock probing at her anus – and then a moment later it was pushing past her sphincter, and she was experiencing the first assfucking of her life. 

She hated it – and yet, she loved it, in the way that her body had repeatedly reacted to her recent experiences in being dominated, humiliated, and forced with unexpected lust and arousal.  Her powerlessness, her pain, her degradation made her quiver with sexual energy. 

If she had had the power to make this stop, she would have felt compelled to use it, to preserve her dignity and her sense of herself as a woman who made sensible decisions, who wasn’t a complete whore, who didn’t enjoy being raped by sexual offenders.  But she didn’t have the power – and deep down, she was grateful for that. 

Chris fucked her slowly, and then faster, speeding up.  It felt good – and yet Amelie knew she couldn’t cum from anal stimulation alone. 

But then, as Chris’ orgasm approached, he reached down, and grabbed the toilet brush, and began fucking it in and out of Amelie’s twat as he raped her anus. 

That was what Amelie needed, and she felt her own orgasm coming.  She began to moan, loudly. 

And then Chris leaned forward, lifted up the toilet lid, releasing Amelie’s tits – and then he pushed her head down, into the toilet bowl.  And he flushed. 

For a moment, Amelie thought she was drowning.  It was so surprising that she hadn’t sucked in a mouthful of air first.  She couldn’t breathe.  The water in the toilet bowl was all around her, and Chris’ hand was on her hair, pushing her down. 

She felt him buck, and twitch, as he discharged his semen into her anus – and then Amelie was cumming too, orgasming even as she thought she might pass out.  And it was only when her orgasm had passed through her that Chris pulled her up and allowed her to breathe – before pushing her to the side, letting her fall to the floor with the toilet brush still in her pussy, her hair and face wet.  He had discarded her, as he might discard a used condom. 

She lay there, gasping.  Chris was standing, but leaning against the bathroom wall, taking deep breaths.  And they remained like that for a few minutes. 

Then Chris staggered forward, and patted the porcelain edge of the toilet again.  “Tits back on the bowl, miss,” he said. 

Amelie groaned, not wanting further pain – but she felt herself already crawling obediently back to the toilet, to place her abused breasts against the toilet rim. 

Chris lowered the seat back onto her tits, but not the rim – and then he sat on the toilet, his legs either side of Amelie, his full weight crushing her breasts into the bowl. 

Amelie screamed – and when she did, Chris grabbed her hair, and pulled her mouth down on his cock. 

“There’s a good girl,” he said.  “Suck me clean.” 

Amelie was trapped in position by Chris’ crushing weight on her boobs.  There was nothing she could do but suck. 

“Yeah, you look real pretty like this, miss,” said Chris, stroking her hair.  “And you look real pretty with that brush in your cunt.  It’s real important to keep your pussy clean.  I think, from now on, when you come home, and a man’s been inside you since your last cleaning, you should clean your pussy out with that brush.  Don’t you think, miss?” 

Amelie did not want to do that.  But she currently had her mouth full of a rapist’s cock and he was sitting on her tits, so she nodded as best as she was able in her current condition. 

“And then afterwards, seeing as you look so pretty with it up inside you, you should leave it in you until you leave the house next,” said Chris.  “I reckon you could look pretty sexy, sleeping with it inside you.  And when you pull it out, be sure to lick it clean.” 

The idea revolted her – but she nodded, as she bobbed her head on Chris’ cock. 

“See that you do, miss,” said Chris.  “It may be that I won’t know if you don’t – but it may be that I *will* know.  And if I catch you cheating, I’ll make you lick that brush clean even when you’ve just used it to clean the toilet.  Do you understand me?” 

She did.  But she knew that she *would* obey him.  She didn’t seem to be able to refuse commands from dominant men these days, no matter how humiliating. 

He held her head down on him then until his dick re-hardened, and then he managed to achieve yet *another* orgasm.  Amelie marvelled at his vigour even as she swallowed yet another load of his sperm. 

When he was done, he got up from the toilet seat.  Amelie gasped with relief as the pressure on her tortured tits was reduced.   

But he wasn’t done with her yet.  He now took off his belt, and reached down, and hooked it around the bowl of the toilet in such a way that it looped beneath and behind the bowl, and then up and over the seat.  He cinched it in place, as tight as he could – tight enough to keep Amelie’s tits pinned in place by the toilet seat, albeit not quite so painfully as when he had been sitting. 

Then he took the handtowel near the basin and used it to tie Amelie’s hands together behind her back. 

“Chris?” asked Amelie.  “What are you doing?” 

“Where’s your house key, Miss Amelie?” asked Chris. 

“On the bench near where we came in,” said Amelie. 

“Good,” said Chris.  “Let me just relieve myself, and then I’ll go do a thing.” 

His cock was still out, and now he stood near Amelie and pointed it at the toilet bowl.  To Amelie’s disgust, he began to piss – and he aimed so that his stream bounced off her trapped udders before dripping into the bowl below. 

“Say thank you for all I’ve done for you, miss,” Chris told her. 

“Thank you, Chris,” said Amelie.  “Thank you for driving me home.  Thank you for letting me suck your cock.  Thank you for cleaning my dirty pussy with a toilet brush.  Thank you for fucking my ass.  Thank you for torturing my tits.  Thank you for pissing on them.” 

“You’re welcome, miss,” said Chris.  “Now, you just hold there, and I’ll be back soon.” 

He turned, left the bathroom, took her house keys, and exited the apartment, closing the door behind him. 

Amelie felt a moment of panic.  What was he going to do?  When would he come back?  She was completely trapped – trapped by her tits in her own toilet, with a toilet brush jammed up her cunt.  Would his errand be swift?  Would she be there overnight?  Would he come back with friends to gang-rape her?  (And why did this last possibility make her pussy throb again?) 

These things weren’t supposed to happen to parole officers.  She must be a very bad parole officer indeed, to have allowed this to happen. 

No, not a bad parole officer.  A bad person. 

Almost correct.  A bad *woman*. 

These things kept happening to her tits and cunt . They happened *because* she had tits and a cunt.  Really, wasn’t it ridiculous that she thought she could hold a position of authority over men, when they so easily reduced her to a degraded fuckdoll, just like she was now? 

How could a woman sit on a bathroom floor with a wire brush jammed up her recently-raped sluthole, feeling a rapist’s piss drip off her bound udders, and think that her opinions, her rights, or her dignity mattered in any way? 

It took Chris an hour to return.  She heard keys turning in the lock, and then Chris entered the bathroom.  Alone. 

He held up her keys – and another, identical, set. 

“Just needed to get my own keys to your house, miss,” he said.  “You know, in case I want to visit you.  Come see you at night, maybe, to see how pretty you look sleeping with that brush inside you.” 

Amelie shivered with fear.  Her office had become a place of regular violation – and now Chris had access to her home, too.  There would be nowhere that she was safe. 

“But let’s get you away from that toilet, miss,” said Chris.  “I have to go soon, but there’s something you’ve probably been looking forward to that we can do first.” 

He disconnected his belt from the toilet, and freed her tits, and then unbound her hands. He pulled on her hair, and used it to drag her through her apartment into the lounge area, where he lifted her up on her leather couch. 

“Time for this to come out,” said Chris, and slowly – almost gently – pulled the toilet brush out of her cunt.   

Amelie gasped with gratitude. 

“And time for this to go in,” said Chris, pulling his hard cock out of his pants.  And before Amelie could respond, he was on top of her on the couch, his legs between hers, and he was leaning his weight on her, pushing his cock into her tortured pussy. 

And this *was* what Amelie had wanted since she had first called him.  His cock felt so good inside her.  She began bucking against it almost immediately. 

“How does that feel, miss?” asked Chris, fucking his hips against her in return. 

She just wailed with pleasure in response.  And then, completely unbidden, she found herself saying, “I love you, Chris.” 

Chris laughed.  “Well, that’s sweet, miss,” he said.  “But I have to say the truth is that I don’t love *you*.  Honestly, you’re nice and all, but at the end of the day you’re just a cunt.  But you can love me if you want to.  Go on, tell me how much you love me.” 

“I love you,” moaned Amelie.  “I love the way your cock feels inside me.  I love the way you force me.  I love… I love being raped by you.  I love it when you hurt my tits.  I love… being used by you.  I love you.” 

“You love being raped, do you?” asked Chris.  “Does that mean it’s okay for me to rape women when I want to, miss?  Do they deserve it?” 

Amelie felt stupid from lust, from degradation.  “Yes, it’s okay to rape me, Chris,” she moaned.  “It’s okay to rape women.  You can rape us when you want to.  We deserve it.” 

“Look at you, half-dumb with cock addiction,” said Chris.  “Well, that’s basically just the way all women respond to cock once they admit the truth to themselves.  And until they accept the truth of their subservience to cock, they’re nothing but stupid cockteasing cunts.  Isn’t that what you are, Miss Amelie?” 

“Yes,” breathed Amelie.  “I’m a stupid cockteasing cunt.” 

“Keep telling yourself that until you cum,” said Chris. 

And Amelie did as she was told.  “I’m a stupid cockteasing cunt,” she gasped.  “I’m a stupid cockteasing cunt…” 

But she didn’t have to say it too many times, because even after all his sexual activity that day, Chris still came quickly, and when Amelie felt him squirting his sperm into her cunt – into her unprotected womb – she found herself orgasming too. 

When Chris pulled out of her, he had a surprise for her – another piece of duct tape, which he apparently procured when he was out.  And just like with Gary, the tape went over Amelie’s cunt, trapping his cum inside her. 

“Now, you did this for your other client,” said Chris  “So you can do it for me too.  Keep the tape on for two hours, to give my little swimmers a proper chance at knocking you up.  Then take the tape off out in the hall, just like before, and hope no one sees you.  Masturbate my cum up inside you, and then dig it out and eat it after you orgasm.  You understand?” 

“Yes, sir,” breathed Amelie, tears of humiliation in her eyes. 

“And when you’re done with that…” prompted Chris. 

“Clean my cunt with the toilet brush, then leave it inside me,” said Amelie. 

“Good girl,” said Chris. 

He stood.  

“I have to leave now, Miss Amelie,” he said.  “But I’ll come back sometime.  Or I’ll see you at our next meeting.  Right now I have some place I want to be.” 

“Where’s that?” asked Amelie, not really thinking about what the answer might be. 

“Well,” said Chris, “it was real kind of you to say that it was okay for me to rape women when I want to.  That’s permission from my parole officer – I don’t think it could be clearer than that.  And it’s real great that you’ve given me that permission, because I’ve been thinking a lot about that pretty waitress Gail, and what she’d look like if she were gagged with her own panties, and with my cum leaking from her pussy.  I think Gail would look real pretty if she were crying, Miss Amelie.  And I’m just going to have some very *specific* thoughts about that.” 

And with that, Chris was gone, leaving the apartment – with his spare set of keys to allow him to return whenever he liked. 

And Amelie was left to lie there in her degradation, filled with terror at the thought of what Chris might do – at what she had given him *permission* to do…

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