Chapter Text
With my arm still on the hand of the redhead and the buxom volunteer crawling along behind me, I made my way to a corner office on the seventh floor. I could see that there were naked female bodies in it, and observed that the handle had been removed. I chased out most off the dozen or so existing occupants with a cattle prod, and then, noticing that there was no furniture in this office, made two of them stay.
Closing the door behind me, I ordered the two remaining original occupants of the office onto their hands and knees. I sat down on one of them, in a position that was half a squat, fairly certain that she would not be able to take my full body weight on her back, and then gestured for the volunteer to sit across for me on the back of the other one.
She did so, and then seemingly acknowledging that this was a parody of a job interview crossed her leg over one knee. I observed that as she did this, putting most of her body weight on the back of the other female, her seat sagged in response.
I shook my head at the volunteer. "You are already losing points, I told her.”
The volunteer cocked her head at me.
“Two things,” I said. “First, if you are trying to copy what I am doing, you should notice that I am not actually putting my full body weight on my own seat.” I slapped the ass of my seat for emphasis, and felt her shift beneath me.
In response, the black haired buxom volunteer put her foot back on the ground, but her knees still firmly together.
“What do you think the other issue is?” I asked her, “considering the role you are applying for?”
She looked at me looking at her for a minute, then spread her legs wide so I could see her lady bits and rested her arms behind her on the ass and shoulder of the naked female body she was sitting on.
“Good,” I said with a nod. “The good news is you're a quick study. It's also good that you are eager to cooperate with me. However there are two big obstacles that you are up against. Possibly three,” I added as I looked at her belly, which was starting to sag.
“First question: are you over the age of 30?”
She started to shake her head, as if out of habit, I suspect, and then changed tack and nodded vigorously, although I could see on her face she did not like admitting it.
“Over 35?”
To this she shook her head definitively.
“Still, I said, “I am 27 and I am free to go as young as I am comfortable going. But I think I have a preference for early 20s personally. And you have got less than a decade of babymaking in you at best. Can I ask – well of course I can ask: have you – did you have any children?”
She shook her head and I felt like I read some sadness into her eyes.
“Have you ever been pregnant?” I asked her.
She hesitated, and I could tell that she was thinking of lying.
“Please note,” I said, “that I have access to all of your medical records and I can check this information for myself. If I find you have lied to me about anything I consider important, not only is that an instant disqualification, but you will find out what my sadistic impulses look like when I feel like I have good reason to be mad. It will always be better for you to tell me an unpleasant truth you think I don't want to hear then it will be to lie to me.”
Reluctantly and with great hesitation, she nodded.
“Abortion?” I asked her.
She shook her head vigorously with a genuine look of horror on her face.
“Miscarriage?” I asked.
She nodded definitively.
“How many?” I asked.
With one hand, she held up one finger, the other hand she held out flat and waggled it in a gesture of uncertainty.
“One miscarriage that you are certain of, but there might have been others?”
She nodded definitively.
“Obviously,” I said, “if they thought you were infertile you would not be here, so I assume your doctors thought you are capable of carrying to term?”
She nodded with evident sadness in her eyes. I leaned forward, rising from my crouch on my seat to put my ring up to her neck. When I heard a beep on my phone, I pulled it out and scrolled down to her medical records. With a bit of further clicking and scrolling, I found the information about her miscarriage.
“You were in a domestic violence situation?” I asked her, already knowing the answer.
With evident reluctance and sadness, she nodded.
“He did not want to be a father and/or claimed it could not be his?”
She nodded again.
“So he beat you into a miscarriage?”
It seems like she might have been frozen for a good few seconds, before finally, slowly she nodded. The kind of questions I was asking her are normally the questions people apologize profusely for asking, but that was the kind of consideration that I owed a woman, not a woman-shaped thing. I found myself looking at her, processing the implications, as things started to look different.
“Did you want kids?” I asked her.
She nodded vigorously.
“So I think I see now from your perspective why the offer I made Red over there sounded like such a great deal. Tell me if I'm correct, but my take on the situation is that you are already used to abusive relationships but at least I'm offering not just a desire to have children but as good a life for them as they can probably expect in this brave new world?”
Now she nodded slowly again and I took it not as reluctant but contemplation, especially when she held up a single finger.
“One moment?” I asked her.
She shook her head and rubbed her belly.
“Oh one more thing you like about the offer I gave Red?”
She nodded enthusiastically.
I stopped and tried to think what it might be. “Is it about the offer itself or about me specifically?”
She pointed at me. That was what I was thinking.
“Is it that I am smart, good genes for the kids? Is it that you think I would be good father material?”
She pursed her lips and then held up three fingers.
“OK so those are benefits but not what you were thinking of?”
She nodded aggressively and now made an attempt to smile.
What were my other positive qualities that she might be appreciating? Oh! “Is it that I am brutally honest? Tactlessly blunt?”
She did the indecisive hand waggle that indicated ‘not quite.’
What else might someone who had gone through what she had when she was still passing as a woman appreciate about me? “Is it that I am unusually self-aware? And that makes me at least predictable compared to your ex in how I'm going to abuse you?”
She raised her hand higher and waggled it again with her thumb extended, which I took as a sign that I was getting warmer.
“Is it that I am stable? Both emotionally and professionally?”
She was now and nodding enthusiastically and this time she seemed to be genuinely smiling.
“I'm flattered,” I said, “but you do need to consider my perspective. You are still like five years older than me at least, you have still had at least one miscarriage, and also if I'm being honest you're not really my type.”
Was it cruel to say that to a naked abuse survivor who was absolutely throwing herself at me? Of course it was, but that was part of the point. End it was true. She was halfway between ‘girl next door’ and ‘runway model’ in her appearance, and while I like the first well enough, I have never been into the runway model type. She was also starting to get flabby around her middle, and I suspected her ass as well. I could see a bit of cellulite already on her thighs. To her credit, while her smile vanished, she took it in stride and nodded.
“Tell me,” I said, “have you ever cheated on a partner?”
She shook her head aggressively.
“Remember,” I said, “I have access to your records, including social media accounts. I would count making out as cheating. I would count spending the night alone with an ex as cheating even if nothing happened.”
She shook her head again, however there was evident fear in her eyes.
“But your ex, he would absolutely claim you cheated?”
Reluctantly, she nodded.
“Because he did not leave the baby with his?”
She nodded, and then held up her hand, showing all five fingers.
“But that was not the only time he would claim you cheated?”
She nodded again, with more confidence this time.
“But you did not cheat on him? Not ever?”
She shook her head aggressively with a slight look of horror on her face.
“But did you do anything that looking back, you can see how he might have thought you were cheating? That maybe he had a point?”
I could see that this hurt her, and I could feel my dick getting hard at the hurt on her face. With great reluctance, she held out her hand and waggled it.
“Well,” I said, “I appreciate your honesty.” I got up and grabbed the redhead. “I'm going to make you an offer, but it's not going to be the same one I made Red here. I want you to think on it long and hard, and if you decide you are willing to take it, I will take you home with me tomorrow, understand?”
She nodded her head, and I took a bottle of lube out of my pocket, lubed up the asshole of the redhead, and then took her bent over the other body I was using as a seat. When I finished, I ordered her to kneel, and looking at the tears in her eyes, my dick was doing its damnedest to come erect again immediately. I forced her mouth open and made her take my now flaccid dick, fresh from her asshole into her mouth and drink my piss again.
“Good girl,” I told the redhead when I was finished. “Please know that I would have done this to you either way. It is exactly what I did to Gingham last night. But I appreciate you being honest with me and I will bring you a special reward, a real reward, tomorrow.”
***
I then ordered the redhead and the volunteer baby mama to wait there as I grabbed the two arms of the bodies I had been using as seats and—holding two wrists together with my left hand—dragged them to the elevator. Tomorrow, I decided I would come in with a new door knob and lock and some proper office furniture, but these two would continue to serve as office furniture as well.
I took them back down to my office on the first floor and put an ankle monitor on each, then grabbed an ankle monitor for the volunteer as well. To save myself time I put the last monitor for Gingham in my pocket as well. I then dragged my living office furniture back up to my future corner office, where a couple of new inventory had already started to recolonize the office. I made sure to give them a good zap with the cattle prod on a medium high setting, before shoving them out and literally kicking them in their bare asses on the way.
“I don't want to find anyone except these four in my office tomorrow morning,” I bellowed! I was of course certain that some of the inventory on the seventh floor would miss the memo and give me a good excuse for summer limited-guilt sadism the next morning.
“What do you know?” I chuckled to myself, as I put the last spare band on the ankle of my volunteer, marking her as a claimed non-virgin on the otherwise virgin seventh floor. “Looks like Marco knew exactly how many of these I would be needing today.”
***
I then sat back down on one of the pieces of living office furniture again and gestured for my volunteer to do the same. “Here's my offer,” I told her. “And again, please remember don't give me an answer today but sleep on it and we will see how you feel tomorrow.”
She nodded and acknowledgment, and then noticing that she had brought her knees together made a point of spreading them again.
“Like I said,” I told her, “you have three big things working against you. What is working in your favor is that you are extremely enthusiastic about my offer and extremely enthusiastic about me. Please understand then that the conditions I am putting on your offer or not simply tests of your enthusiasm but things that I really need to do for myself to make this worth my while. I will be doing everything I am telling you, if you agree to my offer.”
She nodded in acknowledgment.
“So first thing, you will be living in my garage and not the house, although I may potentially keep you in the house for nursing after you bear my first children.”
She nodded, this was one of the least-objectionable things I was going to propose.
“Second thing is giving you have less than a decade left, I will be giving you fertility drugs, aiming for every pregnancy to be twins or triplets.”
She did not only not at this one but she actually smiled.
“Third thing is that I will be doing cosmetic surgery as I feel fit to make your body more attractive to me. This will be starting with me personally fixing your cellulite, and I can't guarantee I will be able to get a local anesthetic, but I'm definitely not gonna put you under full body sedation.”
She nodded and shrugged.
“Fourth thing is that except maybe for the occasional blow job and of course anal a few times a year just to show I own that hole, I will be exclusively fucking you in your cunt hole when you are at the fertile part of your cycle.”
She nodded, but I wasn’t done.
“Now, I really like the idea of my sex toys not getting pleasure from being fucked.” I now got up, squatted down in front of her, and pinched her clitoris. I then ran my fingers along her outer labia. “The clitoris you can see is literally just the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. Most of the clitoris actually runs under the outer labia, and it is what makes so-called ‘vaginal orgasms’ possible. If you agree to my terms, I will be cutting all of it out such that you will never feel sexual pleasure again and indeed you will be feeling a good deal of pain in the months it takes to heal up. I will try to get a professional to do it under local anesthetic, but even if I can't that's probably not gonna be the worst part of it all for you.”
I was amazed at her ability to maintain a straight face and stoic expression after that, but she kept an even keel as she nodded.
“Final thing is that for the baby mamas I will have had for fifteen years or more by the time they hit menopause, my plan is to keep them into old age and let them watch their babies grow up. But for you—having you maybe half that time—unless you find a way to make yourself indispensable for me, my plan is that I will have you slaughtered and butchered as soon as you hit menopause so I can feast on your flesh while it is still relatively tender and succulent.”
At the time, the cannibalism part was a bluff for me. How weird it is now to think that was the only part of my five conditions I did not really mean at the time. Still, even though she seemed to shrink and blanch a bit, my volunteer still nodded somberly.
I realized now that my penis was telling me it was ready to go again, and so I ordered my volunteer to kneel and suck me off. Much to the credit of my volunteer baby mama, she showed far greater skill than Gingham did. And she definitely knew what to do with the balls while she was licking and sucking.
“OK,” I told the redhead, the volunteer, and the two bodies who were destined to serve as living office furniture. “I will be back tomorrow with a lock for the door and some other stuff. I am planning on making this my full-time office. I expect to find you all here when I come, and if I do not the ankle monitors will make it easy and you will not like the consequences. Understand?”
The redhead just stared at me suddenly, but the volunteer and both pieces of my once and future office furniture all nodded.
With a wave of farewell I shut the door, and checking my watch noticed that it was almost 6:30 now. Sam had probably gone home for the evening, but I made a note to myself to ask him about getting on the Expara professionals chat server first thing the next morning. Or possibly second thing after I set up my new office.
With a spring in my step and humming the tune of “Wildwood Flower,” I made it back past the Daleks to the elevator and out the door to my car.