Chapter 1

I doubt if I got more than two or three hours sleep at the most last night. I was cooking dinner yesterday evening when I received a phone call from Mr. Morton. He’s the owner of the company I worked for briefly. I was let go last week. I was given no reason for my firing and I was afraid to ask, but I’m pretty sure I know. I could tell by the tone of his voice I’m about to find out. Mr. Morton informed me he’s coming to my house tomorrow morning to discuss some things which have been discovered since I was fired. He sounded upset so I have a reasonably good idea what he was referring to and I’m terrified.

I suppose I should tell you a little about myself before I go any further. My name is Tamsin but everyone calls me Tam. I was named after my grandmother. I never met her. She was born and raised in Scotland and never stepped foot out of the country. My father migrated to the United States when he was eighteen, met and married my mother and I’m their one and only offspring. I’m twenty-one now and I recently married the perfect man, Perry. He’s five years older than me. We met at the wedding of a mutual friend and really hit it off right from the start. One of the many, many things I liked about Perry when I met him is that his grandparents migrated here from Scotland. I don’t actually give much thought to my Scottish heritage but ... I don’t know, when we were talking and getting to know each other it pleased me when I learned we both have roots in Scotland.

Perry is an up-and-coming young executive at a large local investment firm. Fortunately, he makes a good living because we bought a house just over a month ago. Now it looks like my already difficult task of finding a new job is about to become impossible. That is not, however, the worst-case scenario. I’m embarrassed to admit I did a very stupid thing. I’m reasonably certain it was that foolish thing which got me fired.

The accounting practices where I recently worked seemed so lax that when I thought I had an opportunity to pick up a little extra cash I took advantage of it even though I didn’t really need the money. When I got away with it the first time I felt safe doing it a few more times. It wasn’t a fortune. All together it was just under a thousand dollars. Apparently Mr. Morton knows what I did.

Now I’m sitting at my kitchen table staring at the clock and wondering if I’m going to be arrested for embezzling a small amount of money for no other reason than I thought I could do it and get away with it.

The doorbell finally rang at a little after nine startling me out of my semi-trance. I stood up and made my way to the door on wobbly legs. I didn’t bother to check. I know who it is. I opened the door and tried very hard to ignore the steely glare on his face as I invited him in.

He stepped inside and looked around for a moment. Then, without a word, he led the way into the living room. I followed, wondering if I should offer him some coffee or just shut up and let him say what he came here to say. I decided to keep my mouth shut since I’m too nervous to speak.

Mr. Morton crossed the room, sat down in the center of the sofa, opened his briefcase, removed a stack of papers and sat back to glare at me for a long moment before he said, “There isn’t much I hate more than a fucking thief. Especially when it’s someone in whom I placed my trust. And worse yet, someone who didn’t even need the fucking money.

“I know what you’re probably thinking. You only stole nine hundred and fifty dollars. However, the audit I was forced to have performed cost the company twenty-five thousand dollars!”

I muttered, “Oh my god” and my legs finally gave out. I fell to my knees and managed to whisper, “I’m sorry. I’ll pay you back. I promise.”

He looked at me skeptically for a few seconds before responding, “I looked into your finances. Your husband makes pretty good money but you recently bought this house and furnished it. Since I fired you you’re just about staying even. I’m reasonably certain that will change when I call the police and report your crime. I suspect things will rapidly get even worse when your husband’s boss finds out your husband is married to a fucking thief. That sort of thing makes people at investment firms very nervous.

“To make matters worse the chances of you getting a job anywhere are slim and none. I’m sure as hell not going to give you a good recommendation!”

Oh god!! It’s even worse than I feared! I’m still kneeling on the floor crying like a baby. I can’t even talk, though I desperately want to plead for mercy.

He put the papers he’s been holding down on the coffee table and continued to glare at me until I slowly started to pull myself together. It was several long minutes before I was finally able to sob, “What now?”

After a long, very uncomfortable pause he replied, “I should have already called the police. But I haven’t ... yet. I thought about it for a while and decided to offer you an alternative to going to prison and losing everything, probably even your husband. But don’t get excited. You’re going to hate it almost as much as you’d hate going to prison and losing everything.” He’s tossing me a straw! It sounds horrible but it has to be better than the future I’m facing now. I straightened up a little, wiped my eyes and pleaded, “Anything! I’ll do anything!” Still glaring at me he said, “I doubt it. You’re about to be faced with a choice between two fates worse than death. You can choose trial and an almost certain lengthy prison sentence. Or I’ll hire you back at the same salary you were earning when you were fired.”

I gasped but before I could respond he said, “Don’t get too excited. You won’t be doing the same job you were doing before I fired you. I certainly can’t trust you to handle money! You’re going to be a cunt. That will be your job title. You’re going to suck cocks on demand and you’re going to fuck me and anyone else I tell you to fuck. Personally, I don’t care which option you choose. I’m only offering you this option because I always thought you were a hot little thing and I’ve always wanted to get a piece of your sweet young ass. Take a minute. Think it over. If you decide to accept my offer I want you to stand up and remove all your clothes.”

He glanced down at his watch and said, “You have sixty seconds to decide.”

“But ... if ... for how long?”

“Until you bore me.”

“What if I pay you back the money?”

He grinned and said, “I don’t want your money. I have money. I want your fresh young cunt and I want to look down and see your lips wrapped around my hard cock. I want to humiliate you like you can’t even imagine. You’re going to remember the time you spend as my cunt for the rest of your miserable life. I think I can guarantee you’ll never steal any money again.”

Even though there is no way doing what he wants me to do won’t destroy my life the alternative is even worse. There’s really no decision to make. I tried to shut my mind off as I stood up. What I’m about to do would have been unimaginable twenty minutes ago. Unfortunately, minds can’t be turned off on demand. Or at least mine can’t. They don’t have an off switch. Mine knows everything I’m doing. This is the most embarrassing moment of my life ... so far.

I slid my feet out of my sandals. I stared down at the floor as my trembling fingers gripped the bottom of my old, loose-fitting t-shirt and slowly pulled it up and off while my mind replayed all the terrible things Mr. Morton just told me he’s going to make me do if I accept his offer. I tossed my t-shirt onto a nearby chair as the revulsion I felt at standing here in just my bra from the waist up washed over me. And all the other terrible things he’s going to make me do are going to be so much worse! I made the mistake of glancing up at him for an instant. The obvious pleasure he’s taking from tormenting me like this is written all over his face. I looked down at the floor again as I began working my loose-fitting shorts down over my hips. As I slowly worked them down he said, “I don’t ever want to catch you wearing a bra again. And that goes for pantyhose, too. I will be checking.”

“Yes, sir.”

I dropped my shorts and stepped out of them. I kicked them out of the way and struggled with the clasp on my bra for much longer than it usually takes to unfasten it. I was just about to give up when the hooks finally came free and my bra hung limply from my shoulders. I heard a noise as I slowly pulled the cups away from my breasts and looked up to see him taking pictures of me with his phone. I started to beg him to stop. I have only let Perry take nude photographs of me and I only allowed that reluctantly. But I didn’t say anything. I know I’d just be wasting my breath. I tried not to think about what he might do with those pictures but it doesn’t matter. I knew my life was going to be destroyed not long after Mr. Morton came through my front door this morning.

I dropped my bra on my blouse. As I gripped the waistband of my panties he asked, “What’s your cup size?”

“B.”

“They look bigger than that.”

I didn’t respond. I know they seem slightly larger than a B cup but that’s only because I’m so slender. But it doesn’t matter, especially not here under these circumstances.

I took a deep breath and slowly slid my underwear down. I bent down, picked up my panties and my shorts and tossed them over onto the chair with my shirt and bra. Then I stood there waiting for the next indignity.

He took a few more pictures and ordered me to turn around slowly. When I was facing him again he stared at me for a long moment before he stood up. He took his suit coat off and dropped it on the sofa behind him. He removed his tie. Then he ordered me to undress him.

Mr. Morton is a good-looking man. I’d guess he’s in his late thirties and he’s in very good shape. I imagine he must work out or run or both. He obviously does something to stay fit. Even so, I have no desire to see him naked. I guess I’d better get used to it, though. I’m apparently going to be seeing a lot of him naked until he decides I’ve repaid my debt. Or in his words, until he becomes bored with me.

Aside from his general fitness another feature stands out as I slowly approach him in response to his last command. He has an erection. No surprise there. The surprise is how large it looks under his pants. It looks like it reaches more than halfway down his thigh!

I dropped to my knees and untied his shoes. His large cock looks like it’s trying to escape, to get at me. And it looks even larger this close to my face. He rested one hand on top of my head for balance while I removed his shoes and socks. I slid them out of the way and started to stand up but he said, “You might as well take off my pants since you’re down there.”

I’m in no hurry to uncover the source of that threatening bulge I’m trying very hard not to stare at but I can’t seem to tear my gaze away from that large, throbbing, very threatening sex organ. And I’m unable to stop removing his clothing. Nothing I do now is up to me. I unbuckled his belt, unfastened his pants at the waist and pulled his zipper down. I’m concentrating so hard-on undressing him I’ve almost forgotten I’m kneeling in front of him totally naked!

I took off his pants, folded them neatly and placed them on the sofa with his jacket. I returned to my knees and took a few seconds to look at a man wearing boxer shorts. I’m seeing a man wear them for the first time. Before I met Perry I had only been intimate with two men ... well, boys really. We were teenagers. Neither of them wore boxers. Perry doesn’t either. I’ve seen quite a few girls wearing them, mostly as sleepwear or when lounging around the house when they were home alone. But this is the first time I’ve seen them on a man. Perhaps that’s why they seem so inappropriate on a man. Or at least they do to me.

It wasn’t until I reached for his waistband that I noticed most of the tip of his cock is hanging down past the bottom of the left side of his boxers. It looks like it’s peeking out at me! Damn!! How long is that thing?!!

Mr. Morton obviously noticed the focus of my attention. He sounded amused when he ordered, “Go ahead. Kiss it. you’re going to become very well acquaint with that tube of flesh before I finally let you return to whatever remains of your crummy life.”

He chuckled then and said, “I bet when I finally turn you loose you’re going to miss my big cock.”

Arrogant asshole! On the other hand, I can’t see much of it but it looks like it must be at least an inch longer than Perry’s. I leaned closer, held my breath and lightly kissed the tip of his cock. He wasn’t satisfied. He chuckled and said, “That’s not a kiss. Use your tongue, stupid!”

His cock must have liked it more than he did. His cock seemed to throb and even more of the head is now sticking out below his shorts. It’s shiny. It’s slowly beginning to ooze lube. I’m not put off so much by cocks and most of the things which come out of them. I don’t even mind a mouthful of cum anymore. But what he’s doing to me here and now isn’t sex. This is rape. This is more about humiliating me than being sexually satisfied. Okay, maybe I have it coming. I cost him a lot of money. I stole from him and that act is all the more egregious because I didn’t need his money. If I wanted a thousand dollars I could have taken it out of our bank account.

Thinking about what I did to end up in this terrible situation isn’t helping. I leaned back down and cleaned the lube from the head of his cock with my tongue. By the time I straightened back up the entire head of his cock was showing. The damn thing is still growing!

I groaned in despair and reached for the waistband of his shorts again. This time I carefully pulled them down and off. As soon as the waistband cleared his cock it stood up straight almost hitting me in the face. I can see the whole thing now and it’s big! It must be a between eight and nine inches long and at least three inches in circumference if not more! Next to him my vibrator looks small!!

I’ve measured Perry’s cock. It impressed the hell out of me and I was curious. My husband’s is seven-and-one-half inches long. His cock is at least an inch longer than either of the two guys I had sex with before I met him. And it’s almost two inches in diameter so it’s a good size and he really knows how to use it. I love Perry and I love making love to him. But god! Perry is very open-minded but if he finds out what kinds of things I’m going to be doing and why I’ll be doing them I have no idea what he’s going to do.

‘If’ he finds out?! No, I can’t take that chance. I can’t let him find out from someone else. I’m going to have to tell him. There’s just no way I’ll be able to keep this from him. It wouldn’t be fair to him. FUCK!!! I guess I’m going to find out if he’s as much of a saint as I’ve always thought he is.

I have no idea how long I knelt at his feet staring at his large cock before he commanded, “Go ahead. Since it seems to fascinate you so much give it a little suck. Show me what you can do.”

I’m not one of those women I’ve heard about who can take a guy’s cock down their throats. But I’ve gotten pretty good at sucking cocks and I even enjoy it ... or at least I enjoy it with my husband. And, although it’s intimidating, Mr. Morton’s cock isn’t THAT much bigger than Perry’s. I should be able to handle this as long as he doesn’t try to make me do that deepthroat thing.

I wrapped my right hand around the base of his cock and started sucking it just like I would if I were doing this with my husband. I noticed the difference in circumference but I’m able to get about as much of his cock in my mouth as I can with Perry. I was relieved when he didn’t grab my head and start trying to force me to take more of it than I can handle.

While I did my best to please him with my mouth he leered down at me and took his time removing his obviously expensive shirt and his undershirt. Not that I’m surprised but it’s obvious he isn’t planning to fill my mouth with cum and, once satisfied, get dressed and return to the office. I never really thought that was his intention but a girl can hope.

I tore my gaze away from the evil leer on his face and devoted my full attention to trying my best to please him with my mouth. Only a few more minutes passed before the task became much more disturbing. I heard a noise and looked back up at my rapist. He’s smiling from ear to ear and taking one disgusting picture after another with his cell phone.

After taking at least a dozen obscene pictures of me kneeling at his feet, naked and sucking his cock like what I am now, a helpless sex slave, he switched from photographs to recording a video and said, “I’m getting close. When I cum I want you to hold it all in your mouth until I tell you to swallow. Take your time. Get used to the taste. You’re going to be swallowing a lot of that stuff for the foreseeable future.”

It was only a few more minutes before he filled my mouth with what seemed like an unusually large deposit of warm, bitter cum. I didn’t have a problem with it. His cum doesn’t taste any different than my husband’s and I’ve gotten used to it because I love my husband and I love pleasing him so I suck his cock fairly regularly.

After he filled my mouth with cum he slowly eased his cock out of my mouth and ordered me to stir his deposit with my tongue until he tells me to stop. After I did what he ordered he leaned closer and with his camera just inches from my face he ordered me to open my mouth. He made a recording of my cum filled mouth and then ordered me to swallow.

After I swallowed I was ordered to clean his cock with my mouth. Then he used a handful of my long blonde hair for a towel. As soon as he was satisfied he ordered me back on my feet and said, “Not bad. I’m surprised. I thought you’d be too prissy to be a good cocksucker.”

I saw no need to respond.

He glanced at his watch and asked me what time Perry gets home. I replied, “Between 5:30 and 6:00 depending on the traffic.”

He grinned his evil grin and said, “Good. We still have plenty of time. Let’s go to your bedroom. Lead the way.”

He followed me to the stairs. I could almost feel his eyes on my naked ass all the way upstairs and down the hallway to the master bedroom. Without waiting to be told I pulled back the bedspread, blanket and top sheet and waited for his next disgusting order. I stood and watched while he stretched out on the bed. On my side of the bed thankfully. I know it would bother the hell out of me to see him stretched out on Perry’s side of the bed.

He lay there on his stomach and I waited for him to turn over and order me to get in bed with him. But he didn’t turn over. Instead, he spread his legs apart and ordered me to kneel between them. I immediately knew what he has in mind. I’ve never done it but I’ve heard there are people who do. It strikes me as an incredibly perverse, disgusting and demeaning thing to do, especially when doing it against your will. Unfortunately, thanks to my stupidity I have no choice. I know I’m going to do anything and everything he demands of me because I have no other options. And I’ll be doing it all against my will.

I climbed onto the bed and knelt between his legs, staring down at his hairy ass cheeks and struggling to keep from getting sick to my stomach. I guess he’s waiting to see what I’m going to do. It was a silent battle of wills for a long moment before I surrendered to the inevitable, leaned down and rested my hands on his ass cheeks. I slowly spread them apart and for the first time in my life I found myself looking at that particularly unattractive human orifice. I was only slightly reassured when I concluded he looks clean and I encountered no unpleasant odor. I took a deep breath and with tears streaming down my cheeks I leaned down and began to run the tip of my tongue through the dark, hairy, crevasse I had uncovered. He apparently enjoys what I’m doing. He moaned and muttered, “Not bad. I’ve always wanted to try this. We’re going to have to do this more often ... a lot more often. I had no idea it would feel that good! I have some kinky friends who I know are going to enjoy it too.”

I didn’t need to hear that. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do but I spent several unpleasant minutes running my tongue up and down until he said, “Okay, now concentrate on the sweet spot. Let’s see just how deep you can go.”

I feel like I’m going to be sick. But an order is an order. I stiffened my tongue, buried my face in his ass and began probing his ... god! I can’t even think it! I’m not able to get the tip of my tongue in very far, thankfully. He seems satisfied with my efforts, though. He made me keep it up for what seemed to me like a very long time before he ordered me onto my back on my husband’s side of the bed. While I was getting into position he got up on his knees. I know what’s coming next. His cock is erect, large and throbbing and I’m pretty sure I know where he’s going to put it now.

I was crying pretty hard when he climbed up over me and shoved his large cock into me with one violent stroke. I cried out in pain which seemed to please him. Then, without a moment’s hesitation he began raping me violently. It’s obvious he wants to hurt me. He’s enjoying it. For the first few minutes he supported his weight on his arms and leered down at me while he pounded into me. But he was only about halfway through this next disgusting rape before he lowered the weight of his body onto mine and the disgusting act became much more unpleasant. I could hardly breathe and he had to know it. I guess that’s why he enjoyed it so much. Despite the blowjob I gave him before we came upstairs he, thankfully, seemed to climax very quickly. I guess he really enjoys raping me. What a surprise!

He remained on top of me making it hard to breath for several long minutes before he rolled off of me and said, “You’re a damn good fuck. I knew you would be. Now get your hot mouth down there and clean my cock and balls. You got them all nasty.”

I looked at him in shock. Surely he wasn’t serious! He grinned and said, “You better get used to it. Cleaning nasty cocks and balls and even cum filled cunts from time to time is going to be a part of your job from now on. Most whores won’t do it but you’re going to do it so often that before long it will just be automatic. You’ll do it without even thinking about it. If you don’t do it without having to be told I have some interesting punishments in mind I’m anxious to try out.”

I don’t doubt it for a second.

I looked more closely at his nasty genitals and struggled to keep from gagging just from the sight of them and the thought of doing what he just ordered me to do. I glanced up at his face, desperately hoping he was just fucking with me. It’s obvious from the look on his face that he despises me and loves how much I hate what I’m about to do.

I moaned, took a deep breath and slowly leaned down until his slime covered balls were touching my lips. I parted my lips enough to allow the tip of my tongue to begin licking his nasty, hairy, slime covered balls clean. I quickly came to the conclusion that the taste was no worse than the taste of a mouthful of cum. But the sight and the smell, accompanied by the realization I’m also licking up my own juices, still left me fighting the desperate need to gag. Unfortunately, there’s no way to avoid either of those unpleasant remnants of these disgusting rapes. I can’t do what he has ordered me to do without looking at what I’m doing and the strong smell of his cum is overpowering. I tried breathing through my mouth but it didn’t help.

I can’t say I got used to it after a few minutes but I somehow got my gag reflex under control. It seemed to take forever but it probably took no longer than ten or fifteen minutes, minutes which seemed more like hours than minutes to clean him to his satisfaction. When I finally straightened up, with a nasty smile on his face he said, “See? I knew a nasty cunt like you could do it. I don’t doubt you’ll get used to it before long. Remember, that’s part of your new job as a cunt now. I’ll be honest, though. I’m really looking forward to the inevitable. I can’t wait until you fuck up and forget. Don’t forget what I said. You’ve had a small taste of how dirty my mind is. If you forget and someone has to remind you I have some very amusing punishments in mind for you. I’m looking forward to punishing you. Have you ever gone for a long walk down a dark alley on the poor side of town? I hear there’s some really nasty horny old men living in those alleys. I get a hard-on every time I think about it.”

He ordered me out of bed, got to his feet and said, “Come on. Let’s go take a shower. You’re probably starting to stink.”

After a quick shower we went back down to the living room. Mr. Morton put his clothes back on but when I picked up my underwear and tried to get dressed he said, “I’ll tell you when you can get dressed. Do you have any iced tea?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get me a glass.”

When I was alone in the kitchen I felt like I was able to take a deep breath for the first time since he called me last night. Even before I fucked up he was an overpowering presence who seems to look down on everyone, including more than a few of his executives! He’s much worse with me because he obviously hates me and enjoys tormenting me.

I poured him a glass of tea. I intended to have a glass of ice water when I came in here but at the last second I changed my mind. I decided to have a glass of tea instead. He wouldn’t permit me to brush my teeth or even rinse my mouth out with mouthwash before we came back downstairs. Hopefully the tea will help get the unpleasant taste of semen and ass out of my mouth, although I suppose it’s the memory of sticking my tongue in his ass rather than any lingering taste that bothers me.

I hurried back out to the living room. I handed him his tea and he ignored me for a few minutes while he sipped his tea and checked his phone. I thought he was checking for missed calls or texts until he finished flipping through the dirty pictures he took of me and played the video he recorded of me sucking his cock before we went upstairs. When the video ended he grinned at me and said, “I’m going to have to remember to start keeping my movie camera with me. That was hot but it could have been better. I guess you have to be a teenager to enjoy watching a recording made with a cell phone.”

After a brief pause he said, “Maybe I should hire a cameraman and keep him around for a while. He can be there to record the action whenever we start playing. I know a lot of my friends would love to sit around, drink beer and have you suck their cocks while we gather around and watch your naked ass getting fucked on my home theater system. I’ll have to look into that. I’ll bet I could get a guy to film you getting fucked and sucking a bunch of hard cocks for a reasonable price if I let him have you whenever I’m not using you.

“Now that I think about it, if I could find a buyer for those movies I bet that would go a long way towards paying back the money you cost me.”

I want desperately to beg him not to do what he just suggested but I have no doubt my obvious reaction would just encourage him to do exactly that.

We sat around for fifteen or twenty minutes sipping our tea in what was for me an uncomfortable silence. It’s hard to get comfortable when you’re sitting around naked with a man you hardly know. I tried desperately not to imagine what my new life is going to be like but with very little success. I notice he checks his watch from time to time. I find myself wondering when he’s going to leave and pleading silently for it to be soon. Those thoughts had hardly passed through my mind when I was forced to realize he wasn’t checking to see if it was time to leave. I almost screamed when the doorbell rang. The son of a bitch is expecting someone! It’s obvious from the amused expression on his cruel face.

I looked up at him. He calmly ordered me to answer the door. I stood up and knowing even as I reached for my clothes he wouldn’t allow it I still had to hope. He grinned, shook his head and said, “I told you I’d let you know when you can get dressed. You look just fine. Now get your hot ass out there. Answer the door as if you were fully dressed and you’d better be nice to my company or I’ll call more people over for a little party. Got it, cunt?”

“Yes, sir.” I hate that fucking word! Every time I hear the word cunt, which was not very often until it became my job title, I feel my entire body tense up.

I moaned, turned and, fighting back the tears of despair, I made my way to the front door and opened it without even bothering to look who’s there while trying to act like I’m fully dressed. I guess it could have been worse, though not much worse. Standing on my front porch are two men I know from the office. I didn’t work with them but I know them. Don is a well-known letch who worked down the hall from me. I don’t know what his job is. I only know he’s famous for staring at women as though he can see right through our clothing. A lot of women have complained to management about him but it never did any good. He seems just as pleased as I would have expected to finally have an unobstructed view of my body.