Chapter 1

Orientation

"It's been two days and I've had no word from him. I don't know what I am supposed to do. Shouldn't I have heard from him by now? Shouldn't I be getting him an advocate?"

The two officers behind the desk looked me over. One, a chubby man, blond with brown, dim eyes, grinned at me. It was a big, goofy grin. There was a disarray about him, especially in contrast to the other man. His uniform looked crisp and well attended. I could imagine him holding and iron in one hand and fussing over a crease with the other. His dark red hair and pale blue eyes looked familiar to me. It was familiar in a deja vu sort of way, the way something you know you've never seen can seem familiar. He spoke first.

"You have any idea what he was arrested for?" Something about him terrified me. Something about him cowed me. The blond guy was looking over my body like he would a succulent meal after a long fast, but any discomfort I felt originated in those blue eyes.

"I imagine it has something to do with his writing," I said, not wanting to implicate my husband but also not wanting to seem deceitful. They could have asked those questions to test my honesty. You don't lie to cops unless you are certain they won't be able to call you on it. I knew that much.

"You realize he may not have been charged with anything, yet. We can keep him for a year before we hafta press charges." The blond guy said this to my breasts.

"Yes. I just wanted to find out if there is anything I can do."

The two officers looked at each other immediately, meaningfully. Goofy grin on his face, never taking his eyes off of my breasts, the blond guy, pressed an intercom button. A man barking the word "yes" came through it. It must have beeped on his end.

The red head, the scary one, put his arm across the other's chest, stopping him from speaking. He said, "Sergeant Murond. I have a woman here inquiring about her recently arrested husband."

"So? I don't have time for this."

"Sir, this is the sort of thing you usually make time for."

"Right. Right. Bring her."

The red haired officer walked out from behind the desk and took my upper arm. He was tall and lean, almost gangly but for some impressive shoulders. He lead me down a hall, two toned, a darker red on the bottom and a muted pink on top. It was the same color scheme in the office, where a portly man with huge, hairy hands sat behind a desk. The red head placed me in a chair in front of the desk.

The portly man said, "Check her for any contraband first, Darns." He said this to the red haired man. I thought, his name is Darns. Remember that.

I made to stand but Darns pushed me back in the seat gently. He kneeled before me and unbuttoned my blouse. My mind emptied. It wasn't happening to me. This was a movie. He pulled it down, behind my shoulders. Then, gently, gently, he pulled each breast out of the bra so that it hung over, exposed and lifted. I felt the blood slowly climb up my legs. It rose past my stomach. It surged past my heart. Then it was all in my head, throbbing. I felt as though my face must be visibly pulsing. Any reaction at this point could be the wrong move and the knowledge of this rendered me immobile. Darns stood aside and Murond spoke.

"Good. I'll need you to remain this way as we have our little discussion. It's for your safety, really."

I clearly wasn't meant to believe that. I sat wishing my breasts were smaller, knowing what a spectacle they were. I took a deep breath. I had expected this. Not exactly this. I heard stories, stories I half believed. So, I half expected they might offer some sexual trade. And I had decided that this was a fair one. I would have sex with them if it came to that.

The door behind me opened and the blond man entered, handing a folder to Murond who opened it a read through it. I sat with my breasts getting cold, my nipples hardening. I tried hard to keep my mind empty but I was failing. I was sliding into the moment. "Subversive literature. That is what he was arrested for. He's not been charged yet. Interrogations have not yet begun."

"Yes, sir," I said, still paralyzed, afraid even to ask the question I'd come to ask.

He stood with the folder in his hand, circled his desk and sat on it right in front of me. He lightly flicked my nipples with the edge of the folder and I squirmed, immediately regretting having done it.

"The interrogations don't have to be difficult for him. We could break him completely or just ask a few questions. The discretion is entirely ours." The folder edge kept moving over my nipples; it was maddening. I felt a tingle in my vagina. I had to grab the edge of my chair to stop myself from covering my breasts. Nothing about the situation was abhorrent to me but that I was becoming aroused. I wondered if I could offer to give them all blow jobs. I could give excellent blow jobs. I would be touching them instead of them touching me. I could close my eyes and sing songs in my head. I could stay apart from the whole thing.

"Yes, sir." I forced myself to look in his eyes. I forced myself to say, "I intend to be very cooperative." The Sergeant and Darns exchanged a look and a derisive laugh.

The Sergeant said, "The cooperation we want from you ... it probably goes much further than what you are imagining right now." He smirked as he spoke, like he knew a secret joke. "But first, let me make one thing very clear. Interrogations can be intense. Accidental deaths are fairly common and all authority is understanding when that happens. You know, if a few die to protect the peace, even if they're innocent, it's the greater good of society that we ultimately care about."

He never stopped moving the edge of that folder over my nipples. They were protruding. At attention. Did they see this and know that the rest of me was responding. "I see," I said. My heart was sinking.

"I'm not even convinced that subversive literature is something we need to be worried about. Not to be doing the sort of interrogations we do, where death is such a common happenstance. The morale of the police force. Now, that is something I find much more important. Life is about trade offs. It's about compromise. You need to offer something for our morale, that would make it worth my while to ensure your husband survives this next year."

Dread and certainty washed over me in hot waves. He's saying that he will kill my husband. And I've already offered my body. Why, then, the need to leverage my husband's life? "Of course, sir. Anything to help our men in green." I blinked and felt a tear fall down my cheek.

"The whole year, at any time, he could die. We have a whole year to interrogate."

"I understand, sir. A whole year." I felt another tear drop. My nose was filling with mucus.

"So, just to be perfectly clear, you are offering yourself for a year in exchange for your husband's life. You can back out of the deal at any moment if you feel the life of this man is not worth it. And you will. You will want to back out and run away many times. But, remember that a man's life is at stake." This whole thing was moving so fast, but this man was comfortable with his speed. It was as though he did this every day.

"Yes. I don't think I'll forget that." I tried to be businesslike, to behave like I was in a business interview. But I was crying and an uncontrollable sob hit me. That alone wouldn't have broken the facade. It was the snot bubble that exploded from my nostril that did that.

"Do you have a job?" He tossed the folder aside and took a pair of scissors from his desk.

"I'm a math teacher."

"Not any more. You'll start work here tomorrow." Darns sat at the desk and took a pen. Murond kneeled in front of me and spread my legs apart as he pushed my skirt all the way up. The third man stood behind me. He grabbed my upper arms and pulled them back. I went limp and stared at the man in front of me. I tried to look mean and angry, even with snot dripping down into my mouth. There had to be some way to react to this situation. There had to be some other personality I could slip into that would protect me from it. "Don't contact the school. We will let them know you are needed here." He cut the crotch of my panties in half and pulled my pelvis to the end of the chair.

Darns said, "Tell me your full name."

I could hear how erratic my breathing had become. "Danny ... I mean ... Daniel Havershad." Darns wrote it down.

Murond pushed a finger inside me. My tears dried as his finger sat in my vagina, just present; I could barely feel it in there. I contracted around it once, quickly, like a nervous tic. I wanted to punish myself for having allowed that to happen. "You will answer to the name Cunt when you are here. Cunt or Tits or Ass or Mouth. These are your names. It's almost always Cunt. Just get used to Cunt. The pussy is wet. This bodes well for you. Cunt knows its place. It prepares itself for use and service. That is a lesson we may be able to skip."

"Identity number?" Darns waited, pencil poised.

I could feel myself quivering with the effort of not squeezing his finger with my pussy. "7653832."

Murond pushed his finger into my anus. This was a sensation I had only felt alone, defecating. It was a pleasure I associated with solitude. I grabbed his finger with my anus, some hopeless attempt to shut that hole. "Oooh, too tight. We'll need to work on this." His thumb wormed into my vagina. He was holding me like a six-pack while he leaned over and began sucking my nipple. My vagina throbbed and engorged and pulsed. The worst rape of it was that my body responded. Was I making it worse for myself by fighting it?

Murond stood, unzipped his pants and took out his penis. A sudden hope that he would rape me made me hate myself as the bald man pulled me upright. Without using his hands, he slapped my face with his penis. He poked my breast with it. "I'm just getting you acquainted with your new boss. He wants to suss you out." Darns laughed, watching. I felt myself redden. He poked it in my eye. "Got to check your sight." Both other men laughed at that. His voice changed. It became commanding and dominating. "Okay now suck it." I went for it hungrily. This was what I wanted, nobody touching me, me touching them.

I moved my whole head back and forth, his penis deep in my throat. He spoke the whole time. "Yes, that's good. Get it all the way in there. Suck it like the little suckling piggy you are. No, no, keep your legs spread. Nice and wide. No, keep going, you can gag but don't let it stop you sucking on your teat for your milk, yeah you want your milk, don't you you little piggy, piggy whore cunt, yeah suck with all you've got..." He convulsed, grabbed the back of my head and held it has he came in my mouth, right down the back of my throat. I relaxed my throat, letting it slide down like a raw oyster.

From behind me, "You should have shot it on her tits, made her go home with it on her."

"Aaaaauuuuuhhhhh. Shut your fucking mouth when I'm coming, Boon." In the back of my mind, I thought, That's his name. It's Boon. Now I know. "Why don't you come on her tits, you gotta sit there like a dumb fuck and critique my orgasm. Know what, you don't get to fuck her today. That's what you get for being a dumb ass. Get out of here." Boon released my arms and left, wordlessly. "Darns, have a go."

Darns stood and removed his clothes. He pulled me up and undressed me. He was all efficiency and purpose. Both of us naked, he lay down on the floor, on his back. His penis, long and thin, rested on his stomach. "Ride it," was all he said.

I straddled him, guiding him inside me. I put my hands on his chest, a ruse to keep my upper arms in front of my breasts, protecting them from his touch. That didn't last long. "Grab your tits and bounce them around. Yeah, that's good. Slap them together, like you're clapping. Yes, like that." I felt obscene. "Turn around. Other direction." I faced the other way, keeping him inside me the whole time, afraid not to. "Good, now fuck me and suck my toe." He bent his knees to bring he feet to me. A whimper of humiliation escaped me as I complied.