Previous chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven
===
That night, at home, Amelie used her new app, as Ray had instructed. She scrolled through hours of covert footage of Taylah’s apartment, looking for compromising scenes.
For most of the day the apartment was empty – Taylah was out somewhere, with her child – but when she came home, there was suddenly plenty of footage for Amelie to mark.
Almost as soon as she got home, Taylah stripped nude, and showered, and Amelie obligingly marked out these bits, with relevant descriptions of what was happening. Then, still nude, she poured herself a glass of milk from the fridge and drank it.
She must have been really thirsty, because she licked the inside of the glass clean with her tongue – and Amelie remembered Ray’s off-hand confession that he had ejaculated into Taylah’s milk while trespassing in her apartment earlier.
Next, still undressed, Taylah sat to breastfeed her daughter, and when that was done she finally threw on a shirt and panties, and cooked herself dinner, before eventually retiring to bed – undressing once again – and falling asleep.
Amelie thought she might have masturbated a little, before losing consciousness, but it was hard to tell beneath Tayla’s heavy blanket.
She saved all the segments that showed Taylah’s naked body, and hit “upload”, knowing that they would be viewed by Ray, and by maybe thousands of anonymous men online.
Amelie became aware of a warmth between her legs. She was horny. She scrubbed the video footage back to Taylah in the shower, and watched as she soaped up her small, pretty breasts, and spread her legs to clean her pussy.
One of Amelie’s hands dipped to her own groin, and began to rub…
… but she immediately jerked it away. No! She refused to masturbate to the betrayal of this woman’s privacy. She might make poor decisions in her own life, but she didn’t get off on the violation of others. It was wrong, and she wouldn’t do it.
But later that night, lying in bed, she started rubbing her pussy again, and the thoughts of Taylah’s naked body returned to her. And now they were just her imagination – not the literal illegal footage – and there was nothing wrong to masturbating to one’s *imagination*, was there?
She moaned happily as she fingered her cunt, but she was tired, and she fell asleep before achieving orgasm.
===
She woke in the middle of the night to the feeling of a cock sliding into her wet cunt.
She opened her mouth to scream, but a hand pressed over her mouth, hard enough to bruise her lips.
“Ssh, miss,” said a voice. “I just really needed to rape a pretty bitch, and I had your keys, and it’s better you than someone else, right?”
It was Chris. He had entered her apartment using the spare keys he had made, and now he was nude, and on top of her, his chest pressing against her bare tits, and his cock was pushing up into her fuckhole.
She struggled, but he had far too much leverage, and he was too strong.
And besides, she had to admit, as his cock reached its full length inside her, and then pulled back, and then thrusted again… being raped felt good.
“That’s it,” sighed Chris. “You’ve got such a good cunt. It feels so good. You’re just a dumb bitch parole officer, but you’ve got a good cunt. It feels so good to rape you, miss.”
Something about her complete vulnerability – the fact that it was happening in her own home, in her own bed, and that Chris had been able to enter undetected until his dick had poked into her, and the weight of him, and the feel of his hand over her mouth, preventing her from objecting or from screaming – it drove Amelie wild.
She felt herself moaning into Chris’ hand, and beginning to buck her hips against him.
“That’s it, slut,” said Chris, in a tone that was more tender than his words implied. “Be a good rape slut. You know you want to. Such a dumb sexy bitch…”
He groaned, and with his free hand he casually slapped her face, and then moved it down to grab her left tit and squeeze it as hard as he could.
Amelie fucked back against him, desperate to feel him deep inside her, desperate to feel him ejaculate into her, desperate to be *used* by her rapist client.
And the knowledge of how slutty she was being, how wrong this was, pushed her over the edge. She felt herself suddenly cumming against her rapist’s cock – and shortly thereafter, Chris sped up his own rhythm, before sighing, and shuddering, as he spurted his cum deep into her womb.
“Good cunt,” he whispered. “Be a good cunt and stay silent now. I don’t want to hear you talk. It will ruin it.”
He took his hand off her mouth, and Amelie obediently stayed silent.
He scooped a double fingerful of his cum out of her fuckhole, and brought it to her lips, and she obediently sucked his fingers clean. Then he stood, and took his cock, and wiped it clean on her face.
“You know how to clean yourself, miss,” he reminded her. And then he was gone – vanished, like a ghost, out of her house. She heard the front door click shut behind him.
She didn’t have to do as he said. He wouldn’t know.
But she was going to do it anyway. The thought of disobeying made her shiver with fear.
She went to the toilet, and took the wire toilet brush, and used it to clean out her pussy, as best as she could. And then she went back to bed and fell asleep with the wire toilet brush inside her, her mind filled with pleasant erotic dreams of being raped in her own house.
===
The next day, Amelie didn’t have any of her problem clients – just her regular roster of parolee rapists – and none of them raped or dominated her. (Even after Amelie baited one by suggesting that if a client beat her and raped her, she’d never tell anyone…)
She had been thinking about what Ray said about anticipating the needs of men, and so she found herself making hot drinks for her boss, Mr Horner, and bringing them to him. And when she saw menial tasks she could do in his office, like emptying his trash bin, or processing some photocopying, she did them without being asked, knowing that these tasks were beneath her, and that she was acting like a glorified secretary-slash-janitor.
Mr Horner, for his part, seemed pleased, and told her that she looked pretty today.
Once again, Amelie relieved her bladder at lunch by stripping completely nude in the alleyway behind the office building and squatting between two dumpsters to piss on the concrete. Once again she was lucky that no one saw her.
Shortly after lunch she received a message on her phone. It was from Travis – the schoolyard acquaintance that Ray had sent a nude photo of her to.
The message read, “What is this for?”
Amelie looked at the photo of herself, naked, with cum on her face and tits. She looked at Travis’ message.
She didn’t have to respond. Nobody had told her to respond. She could ignore him.
But she had other rules. His message made her uncomfortable – and when a man made her uncomfortable, according to Ray, it was her fault, and she needed to apologise.
“Sorry,” she texted back.
“That’s okay,” responded Travis. “Did you send it by mistake?”
She could say that she had. He’d still have seen it, and know it existed, but it would be better than letting him think she had sent it to him deliberately.
But that would be dishonest. And the whole reason Ray had sent that picture was to make her be honest. Pretending she wasn’t a whore was a lie. And lying cunts deserved to be raped.
But there was more than that. There was the question of what Ray would want her to do. And she knew, immediately and deeply, that he would want her to deepen her humiliation. He had told her that men like Travis deserved to know she was a whore.
And she needed to anticipate his needs.
Trembling, she typed, “No, it was because I realised you probably thought I was innocent, but actually I’m a whore.”
And she added a shrugging emoji and a love heart emoji.
It took nearly ten minutes for a reply to come – ten minutes that left Amelie a nervous wreck as she waited for the reply.
When it came, this is what it said:
“Do you want me to do something about that?”
Do something? What did he mean? Try to help her be good? Tell other people she was a whore? Discipline her? Rape her?
She didn’t know what to reply. Ray had only wanted Travis to know she was a whore, and now he did.
She sent a shrugging emoji.
Travis replied: “Okay.”
And then there were no further messages.
===
That night Amelie once again performed her duty of reviewing the spy footage of Taylah. It took her longer, because Taylah had stayed home that day, and there was more relevant footage to consider.
But Amelie did her best, and found several sections of Taylah changing clothes or showering, exposing her tits to breastfeed her daughter, and on one occasion milking her own tits into a saucepan to subsequently fill a baby bottle. The tiny camera that Ray had installed in the bowl of Tayla’s toilet caught several views of her cunt as she urinated, and in the late afternoon Taylah masturbated at her computer, and Amelie knew that Ray would be amused to see that it was rape porn that Taylah was masturbating too.
Amelie also saved several sequences of Taylah pouring herself orange juice from the fridge and drinking it, remembering Ray saying that he had pissed in her orange juice.
Amelie once again refused to masturbate while looking at this footage, but by the time she was done betraying Taylah to anonymous men on the internet, her pussy was soaking wet and she was finding it difficult to think straight.
Her mind returned to Ray’s instruction that she should anticipate the needs of men. Would Chris rape her in her sleep again tonight? If so, what could she do to make that more enjoyable for him?
She ended up walking down to the corner store and buying a bottle of beer, some donuts, and some porn magazines. She left the beer and donuts near the front door, where Chris would see them if he came in. She intended to leave the magazines there as well, but her pussy was so wet that she found herself idly flicking through them – and soon she was masturbating, as she stared at the images of fake-titted naked bimbos sucking cocks and smiling brainlessly as men sprayed their faces and boobs with sperm.
Part of her wanted to be those girls. They looked so happy to be used and fucked and treated like objects.
But she didn’t let herself cum. She would be more fun to rape if she was horny, she thought. She put the magazines with the beer and donuts, and went to bed.
And when she dreamed, she dreamed of Taylah – her cute, lactating tits, and her puffy pussy, and her beautiful kissable lips. She dreamed of kissing Taylah – of raping her – or of watching a man rape her. Maybe Ray. Maybe Chris. Maybe Gary Sands. Taylah was crying, and that just made it hotter…
And then Amelie woke to the feeling of being raped. Her eyes widened, and she realised there was a gag in her mouth – a thick rubber one, that fully filled her oral cavity.
“Sssh, sssh,” said a voice, and it was Chris’ voice – but it was in the wrong place. It was to one side of her bed. If his voice was there, then it couldn’t be the person who was even now shoving their cock into her pussy.
The room was pitch black. She couldn’t see. But she was certain there were *two* men in her room. She was being raped by someone she didn’t even know.
“I told you she was good, right?” said Chris.
The man between Amelie’s legs made a grunt of agreement.
“Slap her tits, she likes it,” said Chris.
The man who was raping Amelie slapped her tits, hard, and Amelie squealed.
“Sorry, miss,” whispered Chris to Amelie, “but my friend’s gone a long time between fucks, and he can’t afford a prostitute. I told him he could use you for free. I know you don’t mind.”
Amelie moaned into her gag.
The anonymous rapist slapped Amelie’s tits again, even harder.
“Be a good girl and fuck my friend,” instructed Chris.
Amelie did as she was told. She began to hump her hips against her violator. And despite everything, it felt good. Her cunt was needy and it wanted to cum. It liked being penetrated, no matter what was penetrating it. She squeezed her cunt muscles, trying to please the stranger’s cock, trying to milk cum from it.
And soon enough the stranger was cumming, and Amelie was too. She was orgasming from being raped by an unidentified man. She was a slut, and she knew it, and she didn’t care because it felt so good to cum.
When the man was done, he pulled out.
“Thank you for leaving us the drink and the donuts,” said Chris. “They were real nice. And we have another use for the bottle.”
Amelie felt something cold against her pussy – the mouth of the empty beer bottle. Someone pushed it up inside her until it was almost all inside her – pushing her rapists’s sperm up, into her womb – and then let it slide back out until it was almost out of her.
Then she heard another sound – the ripping of tape – and then sticky tape was being applied to her pussy. They were taping the bottle in place, with its mouth inside her fuckhole.
“It’s just going to collect up all my friend’s cum, so it’s not wasted, miss,” said Chris. “Now we’re going to turn the lights on for a bit, so you’re going to need a blindfold.”
Something was pushed over her head and tied around her eyes. She thought it might be a pair of her own panties – they smelled like her cunt – and then maybe a tie or belt around her head holding them in place. A moment later, she sensed the light come on, but she could see nothing.
“Time to make me feel good, miss,” said Chris. He took the gag out of her mouth – and then immediately shoved his cock in to replace it.
Like the submissive slut she was becoming, Amelie suckled submissively on his dick.
And then, as she sucked, Chris and his friend began to chat. They discussed how stupid women were. They discussed how much fun it was to rape a dumb slut like Amelie. They discussed how her tits were disappointingly small, but how her cunt was pleasantly tight. Several times, Chris’ friend slapped Amelie’s tits again, for fun.
After a while, Amelie felt paper placed on her stomach. It confused her for a moment, and then she realised what was happening. It was the porn magazines. Chris had placed a porn magazine on her stomach so he could look at it as she sucked him off.
Amelie felt completely humiliated. Here she was, sucking a rapist’s cock, and it wasn’t even her he was getting off too. He was thinking about big-titted porn bimbos even when he had a real girl in front of him to rape.
To her surprise, she felt her body start to shake, and she realised she was cumming again, despite the lack of stimulation of her pussy. It was a completely hands-free orgasm, triggered entirely by the taste of Chris’ cock and Amelie’s overwhelming sense of humiliation.
Shortly afterwards, Chris started to gasp too.
“Fuck, get me the bottle,” he said – and Amelie felt the tape ripped from her pussy and the bottle withdrawn. A moment later, Chris pulled his cock from her mouth.
Amelie moaned in frustration that she was cheated of the pleasure of swallowing his cum.
“My friend and I are going to go now, miss,” said Chris. “This bottle is full of my cum, and my friend’s cum, and some of your pussy juices, I think. I’m going to leave this bottle by your bed, and after we’re gone I want you do one of three things with it. Either you can shove it back in your pussy, and tape it in place there, and not pull it out till you come home from work tomorrow. Or you can go out into your apartment hallway nude, and deepthroat the bottle and drink all its contents while cleaning your pussy with the toilet brush. Or you can pour it all over your face and tits and not wash it off until morning. Either way, film it and send me a video.”
“Yes, sir,” whispered Amelie.
And then there were some more sounds, and Chris and his friend were gone.
When she heard the door lock, she pulled off her blindfold. The porn magazine was still open on her stomach. She picked it up and looked at the image that Chris had been staring at when he orgasmed – a blonde woman with huge tits, using her fingers to spread her pussy for the camera.
Amelie got up, and found the roll of tape that Chris had used to tape the bottle to her pussy. She ripped the page out of the magazine, went into her bathroom, and taped it by the mirror. She wanted to remember what had made Chris cum.
Staring at her reflection in the mirror, next to the picture of the woman, it was clear how disappointingly small her tits were. She tried to recreate the woman’s expression of vapid, submissive lust, but her face just looked wrong. She would need to practice.
Next she took the toilet brush, and the bottle, and her phone, and her apartment keys, and went out of her apartment, into the apartment corridor. It was 2 am, and everything was quiet. No one was in sight.
She set up her phone on the ground to film her. Then she shoved the spiky wire brush up her cunt and began to fuck herself with it. She put the bottle in her mouth, tipped it up, and began to fellate it as if it were a cock.
Almost at once the mixture of sperm and cunt juices and leftover beer began to trickle into her mouth. It was salty and bitter and she did her best not to gag. She tried to savour it on her tongue, to really enjoy it, as she knew Chris would want, while she continued to masturbate using the toilet brush.
Her cunt was getting wet again despite the pain of the brush. She thought she could make herself cum. She slobbered over the bottle neck as if it were a cock as she pushed it in and out of her mouth.
Suddenly the door of the neighbouring apartment opened, and Mr Grander, her neighbour poked his head out. His eyes widened as he saw her.
Amelie wanted to stop. She wanted to run and hide. But that wasn’t what Chris had told her to do. So she kept fucking herself and drinking sperm from the bottle.
Mr Grander just watched. He didn’t say anything. But he didn’t look away, His eyes travelled over her bare cunt, her naked tits, and her blushing face.
This was how he would see her, forever. No matter what she did now, her neighbour would always have seen her raping her twat with a toilet brush while drinking sperm from a bottle.
And, of course, that thought was what made her cum.
She shook, and her legs gave way, and she fell to her knees. She sucked the last sperm from the bottle as she orgasmed, and when she had recovered, she picked up her phone and fled back into her apartment, avoiding Mr Gander’s gaze, the wire brushed still lodged in her cunt.
Back in bed, she sent the footage from her phone to Chris.
And then, remembering Ray’s instructions, she also sent a copy to Edward Rimes, a boy from her sociology course at university who had once asked her out, and who she had declined on the basis that he was a little weird and creepy.
She thought about Edward watching her drinking cum and masturbating, and what he would think about her as a result. She thought about Mr Gander staring at her.
And she brought the bottle back to her lips, hoping to find a little more sperm left inside it, and she resumed fucking herself with the toilet brush, hoping to cum once more before going back to sleep.
===
Want more erotic tales of criminals? Check out my e-book Crime and Punishment, available for only $4.99 USD from AllTheseRoadworks.com! Your purchase supports me to keep creating new, free content! (Click here to view in store.)
===