Story: The Parole Officer, Part 21

Previous chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty

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No one came by while Amelie crouched nude on all fours in the doorway of her office, licking cum and piss out of a dog bowl.  She was grateful that no one saw her – but doing it in a place where she *could* be seen made her entire degradation feel more real to her.  It wasn’t just something that was happening to her behind closed doors.  It was happening in places with real people, who might see her.  It wasn’t a part of her life – it was rapidly becoming her *whole* life.

She hated it, too, because the possibility of discovery was keeping her pussy wet.  Despite having only just discharged a stun gun into her cunt, she was still sexually aroused, and – worse – sexually aroused with the taste of piss and cum in her mouth.  What kind of slut was she becoming?

The kind that she had always been, deep down, she feared.

When she had licked the bowl clean, she hurriedly closed her office door, and then, her heart racing, she consulted the pregnancy test.

Not pregnant.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

But she knew that it was qualified by the words “for now”.  She was off birth control, and none of her rapists were using condoms with her, and their attitudes to impregnating her ranged from “indifferent” to “actively eager to knock her up”.  Nor would any of them support her if they did so.  Her pregnancy, she knew, would be her problem, and no one else’s.

She should end this, she knew.  She should find a way.  But she couldn’t see one.  If she defied any of her rapists, then it would all come crumbling down, and her indiscretions – and crimes – would all be revealed.

Was there really no way out?  Or did part of her – the part that made her cunt wet – not *want* a way out?  It was possible she could escape, if only she had the will and courage.  But she told herself that was a lie.  She had to keep obeying.

She had a few hours until Gary Sands came for his appointment.  He wanted her to be “ready for him”.  He wanted her to have done something that showed him she understood “what her gender deserved”.  If it wasn’t good enough, he would make her regret it.

She had thrown her clothes out the window.  She was trapped in the nude.  It limited her options in terms of what she could achieve.

She tried to think how to demonstrate what her gender deserved.  She couldn’t immediately think of something good enough, so she sat on her couch – where her rapist clients normally sat – with one of her new misogynistic books, “The Bitch Epidemic”, and played with her pussy as she read it.

The book argued that women were only unhappy because they had been given unrealistic expectations.  If women understood they didn’t deserve rights, then they wouldn’t be unhappy about not having them.  If women didn’t think of sexual harassment and rape as unusual or wrong, then they wouldn’t be traumatised or unhappy about being raped.  It made an argument for actively teaching women to expect to be raped as a normal part of their lives.

Amelie thought about what Gary would want her to do to demonstrate she understood what women deserved.  He would want it to be humiliating for her.  He would want her to hate it.  He would want it to corrupt her – to be morally wrong.  He would want her to push her boundaries, and make her more of a slut and whore than she already was.

She wanted to do something small.  She thought about having a toilet brush stuffed up her cunt when Gary arrived, or making a sign that said “Women are Sluts” and hanging it in her office.  But if it wasn’t enough, Gary would punish her – and he was creative and cruel with his punishments, with no regard to her safety.

She could show him the footage of her raping Gail, maybe.  But that might also get Chris in trouble – and Amelie hadn’t raped Gail since the sun had come up, so it might not count as something she had done today.

In the end, she decided on two separate ideas.

The first involved plugging an external drive into her computer, and setting data to download to it.

The second was brought on by the knowledge that she had only pissed a little on the pregnancy test, and her bladder wasn’t empty.

She picked up the office phone and called the office’s intern – a pretty blonde girl, maybe 19 years of age, named Keelie.

“Keelie,” she said.  “I’m snowed under right now.  Could I convince you to bring me a cup of coffee?”

“Of course!” said Keelie brightly.  “How do you like it?”

“Two sugars and milk,” said Amelie.  “Don’t interrupt me, just leave it outside my door.”

A while later, she heard Keelie approach, pause, and then leave again.  When she was sure Keelie was gone, Amelie set her phone to film herself, then opened the door, took the coffee from the floor and closed it again.

Carefully, she drank about a third of it.  Then she held the mug between her legs, and pissed into it until it was full again.  

She set the mug back outside her door, then called Keelie again.

“Keelie, there’s something wrong with that coffee,” she said.  “Can you come back up and taste it?”

Soon Keelie was back.  She paused outside the closed office door, and Amelie pictured her raising the mug to her lips and drinking from it.

Amelie began to rub her clitoris.

“Oh god,” said Keelie after a moment.  “You’re right.  There is definitely something wrong with this.  I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know how you could get coffee so wrong, Keelie,” said Amelie.  “Drink some more, to make sure.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” said Keelie, quickly.

“Keelie, you basically have one job, and that’s to make coffee,” said Amelie, through the door.  “And you’re getting that wrong.  I want you to drink the whole mug, to make sure you learn your lesson and never do this again.”

Keelie was clearly unhappy – but the long pause, and occasional pauses and disgusted sounds, suggested she was drinking.

Amelie didn’t know why it was so hot to picture Keelie drinking her piss.  She felt disgusted with herself, but she kept rubbing her pussy.

Finally, Keelie said, “That’s all.  I’m so sorry.  I’ll get it right next time.”

Amelie had fed her piss to another innocent woman.  She was a disgusting pervert.  She wanted to cum, but knew that Gary Sands would not approve of her orgasming without permission so close to his interview.

“See that you do, Keelie,” said Amelie.  “Leave the cup, so I know you did as you were told.”

Keelie left.  And that was that.

Amelie wondered how she could feed more of her piss to the poor girl.

Meanwhile, the download had finished.  She unplugged the drive.

She tried to think about how Gary would want her to be when he arrived.

Submissive.  Vulnerable.  Degraded.

She looked in her desk drawers until she found some duct tape.  She cut off a piece and put it over her mouth, gagging her.  She found some more and used it to spread her butt cheeks apart, and then to tape her cunt lips to her inner thighs.  She got the stun gun and put it on the floor near the door, and then she opened the door – cringing again at the thought that someone might see her.

Finally, she put her hands behind her back and managed to wrap enough tape around them to bind her wrists.  She wouldn’t be able to unbind herself now without someone else’s help.

She knelt in the doorway, facing into her office, away from the corridor, and then bent forward until her face and tits were against the carpet and her anus and cunt were pointed down the corridor.

In this position she wouldn’t know if anyone entered the corridor.  She wouldn’t know if someone saw her.  She was helpless to cover herself if they did.

She waited like that for the last ten minutes before Gary was due to arrive.  At one point she thought she heard footsteps in the corridor, that paused, and then left again.  She hoped she was imagining it.

And then there *were* footsteps, advancing towards her rapidly – and then she yelped into her gag as someone kicked her in the cunt with a leather boot.  She jumped a little – and then she was kicked again, and again, and she realised she was supposed to wiggle forwards along the floor, so she did.  

When she was far enough into her office, the office door was closed behind her, and then someone knelt between her spread legs, and she felt a cock probing at her wet cuntflesh.

She assumed this was Gary.  She hoped it was Gary.

The cock slipped inside her – and then she felt a loop of leather slip over her neck.  It was a belt – and it tightened, choking her.

Her rapist used the belt to pull her whole body back onto his cock.  Amelie struggled for air.  She was completely helpless.  Her attacker hadn’t spoken to her, hadn’t done anything except immediately use her as a piece of meat whose safety clearly wasn’t a concern to him.

Amelie was roughly forced onto her attacker’s dick again and again – and just when she thought she might black out from suffocation, her attacker loosened the strangling belt and instead reached under her to grab her tits in a firm grip.  He pulled hard on her boobs, making her squeal into her gag again, using them as handholds to rape her.

She felt herself about to cum – and her attacker must have too, because he abruptly pulled out of her, grabbed the stun gun, and discharged it into her cunt.  Amelie’s whole body spasmed with a confused, painful orgasm – but her rapist was already pushing back into her and fucking her harder.

And then her rapist was coming, spurting his sperm into her unprotected fertile womb.  He kept fucking her until every drop of semen has been spent inside her – and then pulled out and fired the stun gun into her again, giving her a second orgasm.  He took the dogbowl from where Amelie had left it and placed it under her, between her spread legs, and Amelie knew that all the fuckjuices that dripped out of her now would end up going back into her mouth soon.

Her attacker moved around to the front of her, and now Amelie could see that it *was* Gary.  He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled, lifting her up into a kneeling position.

He grabbed the tape on her mouth and ripped it off, without any concern for her comfort, and as soon as her mouth was open he pushed his cock into it.

“Lick me clean, bitch,” he growled, and Amelie did her best to obey.

After a little licking, she felt a sudden taste in her mouth.

It was piss.  Gary was pissing in her mouth.

Her first reaction was to pull away, but Gary still had a grip on her hair, and he pulled her close, trapping her against his groin.

“Swallow,” he ordered.

Amelie had no choice to obey.  She knew she would be punished if even a drop escaped her mouth, so she convulsively swallowed Gary’s hot piss like a good girl, until he was done with her.

She deserved this, she knew, for what she had just done to Keelie.

When he was finally done, he pulled out and tucked his cock away.

“Have you followed my instructions, bitch?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” she murmured, looking at his feet.  “The most recent video on my phone shows what women deserve.”

Gary took her phone and looked at it.  After a while, he chuckled.

When it was done, he said, “Is this all?”

“No, sir,” said Amelie.  “That hard drive there is my offering to you.  It’s a download of every rape victim and sexual assault complainant in the department records – their names, addresses, contact details, and every file we have on them.  Witness statements, medical records.  In some cases we have photos of their tits and cunts from gynaecological procedures.  We have statements about their sexual histories.”

“And what would I do with this, bitch?” asked Gary.  His voice showed curiosity.

“Anything you like, sir,” said Amelie.

He slapped her.

“No, don’t give me a cop-out answer, you dumb bitch,” said Gary.  “You thought I would want these for a reason.  What would I do with this?”

Amelie was silent for a moment.

Then she said, “You could… use it to punish them, sir.  For complaining about rape.  You could humiliate them or… retraumatise them…”

“You mean rape them again,” said Gary.  “Reward them for reporting their rape by raping them again.”

“Yes, sir,” said Amelie quietly.  And then, “That’s what my gender deserves.”

“Good girl,” said Gary.  “That’s a very good idea.  I’m pleased with you.”

Amelie hated how those words made part of her feel good.

Gary thought for a moment, then tossed Amelie a bundle of cloth.

It was a small pink bikini – top and bottom, though the bottom was a G-string – and a slightly oversized white shirt that said “CUNT”.

“Well, there’s no time like the present,” he said.  “I want you to pick out three girls from that data that you think are pretty, and make a note of their addresses.  Then put those clothes on, and meet me in the basement.  Make sure to bring the stun gun.”

Amelie’s mouth fell open.  He couldn’t really mean to…

But of course he did.  Amelie had practically told him to do it.

He was going to go and rape a woman right now – and make Amelie his accomplice.

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