Previous chapters:
One | Two | Three
===
Charlotte questioned her girls the next day about their sexual activities.
“Have either of you girls had sex yet?” she asked. “It’s important that you tell me, because if you have then you need to fill out an extra form for Etrebor.”
“No,” said KC, with a disappointed sigh. “They don’t like me.”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “You’re really very pretty, KC,” she said. “I’m sure the boys *do* like you.”
“Oh, the *boys* like me,” said KC. “They always want to see my tits or my panties. But boys my age are so boring. It’s the *men* who don’t like. I had such a crush on Mr Eddison in school, but he said it would be inappropriate to have a sexual relationship with a student. Mr Garron the principal said that too, AND Mr Von Elk, the janitor, even after I tried to kiss him.”
Charlotte offered mental thanks that her daughter’s teachers had been so surprisingly principled.
“You shouldn’t proposition older men, KC,” she said. “It’s slutty.”
KC giggled. “I *know*,” she said. “That’s what makes it *fun*.”
Charlotte sighed, and turned to Sam.
“What about you, young lady?” she asked.
“How would Etrebor even *know* if I’d had sex?” she asked.
Charlotte was hoping the answer would just be, “No, I’m a virgin,” and the fact that it wasn’t made her heart sink.
“I don’t know,” she said, “but if you lie on a passport form and you get caught, there could be very serious consequences. Have you had sex, or not?”
“No,” said Sam, “I have not had sex.”
But she didn’t make eye contact with her mother as she said it.
There wasn’t much Charlotte could do – and nor did she really want to make her daughter have to get a sexual partner to fill out the degrading sexual history form for her. She decided to accept Sam at face value. After all, as she said – how would Etrebor know?
And that left the matter of the passport photos.
“No!” said Sam, when she learned of this final requirement. “I am *not* being photographed nude!”
Charlotte had to take a deep breath. She wished that *she* had the luxury of throwing a tantrum, because she felt exactly the same way. But there was no one for her to complain to.
“It’s just how it is, Sam,” she explained, for the third time. “Etrebor requires nude images for female passports. If we want to visit the country, that’s just what we have to do.”
“I *don’t* want to visit the country!” Sam whined.
Charlotte exploded. “Sam, this is hard enough for me. Can you try just *not* being a bitch for five seconds and help me out here? Or do we have to talk again about whether you appreciate me paying your bills, or whether you’d prefer to be homeless?”
That, blessedly, shut Sam up.
Actually getting the photos taken wasn’t too bad. If they’d been in Etrebor they would have needed to go to a government office and strip in public, but seeing as they weren’t, they were able to hire a private photographer and have the photos taken in the comfort of their house. They even got a woman to take the photos, which made it far less humiliating to have to strip and pose, and then cup their tits, spread their pussy lips, and bend to expose their anuses for the close-ups. The final passport would display all these images – a traditional shot of their face, along with a full-body nude, and three studies of their boobs, cunts and asses.
It was what came next that Charlotte was dreading.
“Okay, girls,” she said, when they received the final photos from the photographer. “Now you just have to get these verified.”
“What does that mean?” asked Sam.
“You have to find a man who knows you very well, who isn’t related to you by blood or marriage, and you have to get him to certify that the photos accurately depict you,” said Charlotte.
‘Like, sign off on them? So he’ll *see* the photos?” asked Sam, already beginning to whine again.
“Well, actually, more than that,” said Charlotte, swallowing nervously. “He has to be able to say they’re accurate – which means he has to compare them to the real thing.”
It took Sam a moment to understand.
“You want me to strip? For someone I *know*?” she sputtered.
“Sam, don’t give me a hard time on this,” said Charlotte. “I’m letting you choose the man. Get one of your friends you trust. But if you don’t do this, then so help me I’ll invite a colleague from my workplace to this house and strip you in front of *him*. Am I clear?”
Sam ran out of the room in tears – but Charlotte could tell that she *had* been clear, and that Sam would do as she was told.
KC was no problem. She invited a bespectacled friend from her schooldays called Calvin over, and happily stripped nude in front of him in the lounge room, and made him stare carefully at her buxom tits and her pink, wet pussy, before getting him to sign that her photos were accurate.
Charlotte questioned her about it afterwards.
“Aren’t you worried that he’ll… want more from you now?” she asked.
KC giggled. “He’s just a *boy*,” she said. “Not a *man*. He won’t do anything. The very thought of him making a move on me is funny.”
She thought for a bit and then added. “But maybe kind of hot? Like, if he was *forceful*. If he didn’t give me a *choice*…”
Charlotte despaired of her slutty younger daughter. She wondered where KC had gotten such an attitude from, and worried it was her. After all, when she was younger, KC had seen her father and mother interacting, and had seen Charlotte forced to call Brian “Master”, and seen how Brian didn’t bother to ask when he wanted attention – or affection – from Charlotte. And some of the outfits Brian had made her wear…
For Charlotte’s own part, she ended up stripping in front of James Haber, the Senior Partner of her firm. She would rather have chosen almost anyone else. She already faced disrespect at work based on her gender. Letting her immediate superior closely inspect her tits and cunt was probably only going to further classify her as “stripper” instead of “professional” in his mind.
But Zach had told James that Charlotte would need to get nude photos for her passport. And then James had telephoned her to volunteer to inspect her. And she knew that if she said no, he would take it as an insult. *And* he would then ask her who she *was* stripping for, and she would have to explain and defend that choice. And if he got sufficiently pissed off, he could still pull her out of the Etrebor assignment entirely and leave Zach to take all the glory.
So she reluctantly found herself taking off her blouse and skirt in his office one morning, and then her underwear, and then spreading her pussy lips so that her boss could peer at her cute pink clitoris.
It was twice in one week that she found herself stripping for a man she disliked – first Brian, and now James. She wondered briefly if this was her fault – if she was making bad choices which had led to this. But no – going to Etrebor was good for her career, and therefore doing this – letting her boss stare at her naked tits – was also good for her career.
James made no comment on her body – just stared at it, for long minutes, and then signed the paperwork attesting that the photos were a true and correct record of her intimate assets.
When she got home, though, she ran face first into a crisis. Sam was in tears, sobbing loudly in the lounge room.
“Sam, honey, what’s the matter?” she asked.
Sam didn’t want to talk at first, but Charlotte went close, and wrapped her arms around her buxom goth daughter, and stroked her dyed-black hair, until Sam was ready to talk.
“It was Ashton,” she said. “I thought he was my friend.”
“What happened?” asked Charlotte.
“I asked him to sign my paperwork,” she said. “And I showed him the photos, and then I undressed for him, and then…”
Charlotte felt her heart sink.
“… and then he came over to me and put his hands on me, and started to kiss me, and I tried to push him away, but he said I was cockteasing him. And then he grabbed my hair and pushed me down, and he unzipped his pants and took out his cock, and he… he made me suck it. And then after a while he pushed me on the couch and he… he… he raped me.”
“That bastard,” said Charlotte. “That asshole. I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.”
“He called me a slut,” wept Sam. “And he spat on me. And that’s not even the worst part.”
Charlotte was not sure she wanted to hear the worst part. She kept stroking Sam’s hair and waited.
“I… I *orgasmed*,” wailed Sam. “I orgasmed from *rape*. I hated it, I hated him, but I… I came. Before he did. What kind of slut does that?”
Charlotte thought about how she had orgasmed just the other day, from her ex-husband’s cock in her ass.
“Oh, honey,” she said. “You can’t help it. It’s… it’s normal for women to cum from rape. You’re not in control of it.”
“Really?” asked Sam.
Charlotte wasn’t sure that telling her daughter that women naturally orgasmed from rape was the most feminist thing she had ever done. But she couldn’t think of something else to say that wouldn’t insult her as well – even if Sam would never know.
“Yes,” said Charlotte. “Really. And isn’t it better than *not* cumming? Wouldn’t it be more traumatic if you didn’t enjoy it at all?”
“He came in my… in my pussy,” said Sam.
“It’s a good thing you’re on birth control then,” said Charlotte. And she reflected that Sam wouldn’t be, soon. Etrebor wouldn’t allow it.
“Should we go to the police?” asked Sam.
“Well, we could,” said Charlotte. “That rapist monster certainly deserves to go to jail. But… honey, now that you’ve had sex, you need to fill out the sexual history paperwork. And that means you need to get him to rate your sexual performance.”
“No,” protested Sam. “No!”
“Yes, honey,” said Charlotte. “You need to go ask him if your mouth and cunt were acceptable. And you need him to say that they were. So I want you to go back to him, and thank him for fucking you, and tell him that it was very fun. Can you do that for me?”
Sam’s weeping intensified.
“I know you don’t want to,” said Charlotte. “But it’s just words, okay? You just need to get him to sign the paper, and then you don’t ever need to see him again.”
Charlotte felt a twinge of guilt about asking her daughter to thank her rapist – but she couldn’t afford for Sam to fuck this up now.
“Just say thank you for the sex, and that you’re sorry you were a cocktease,” said Charlotte. “It’s not hard. It’s not like it was *really* rape. After all, you did cum. You must have wanted it.”
Sam wept more, and Charlotte stroked her hair.
And Charlotte knew that Sam would do as she was told.
And part of the reason Sam would do that is that she thought it was the *final* degradation of this process.
She might not have done it if she knew what Charlotte knew – that their nude photos had to also be copied to “all their owners, past and present” – which meant husbands and fathers. Charlotte’s own father had passed away, but she was required to send the images to both Brian and Zach.
She didn’t like sending Brian images of his own daughters naked. She similarly didn’t like sending them to Zach, her new “husband” and therefore legal guardian of the girls. She had a very clear mental image of Zach masturbating over the naked tits and spread pussies of his new “daughters” – and she wasn’t entirely convinced that Brian wouldn’t do the same.
But the girls would never know. And this was all worth it, to get to Etrebor – and get the job recognition that she so richly deserved.
===
You can get the original novel The Etrebor Exchange for only $7.99 USD in the All These Roadworks store right now! Don’t miss out! (Click here to view.)
===
“and started to kiss *me*”?
Fixed, thank you!