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The Compliance Act verseXDianaConway

Upon first insertion she gave up pretty good reactions, but he loved when she stilled when his cock wasn't moving anymore. It was a bit like catching a deer in headlights. She was naive for celebrating already. But he did savor her unmoving form around him before he pulled out. That wasn't it by far, though, even if she was so hopeful. How stupid. Her novice certainly had its charm. Maybe Richard had done a good job, preparing her for other ownership, after all. This woman was a virgin at her age. Troy felt happy to have been the one unlocking her new experiences for her.

He enjoyed the fact that she was bleeding for him once his cockhead popped out of her shitter. He always wanted to know which kind of gapes they could give him, and at what rate their asshole would close. This was her first time, so it wouldn't be the only indicator of how things would be later, when he had used her for a while. Even Eva had a hard time, and he knew she had practiced. Wives of men who used their asses as contraceptives also found Troy's massive cock difficult. This innocent and weak mother and wife had never stood a chance. And that was the point of this experience for them both. For her to suffer beautifully, and for him to relish in the fact that he was doing it to her. And the pure sensation of putting his cock into something, and wounding it horribly, feeling as the small place had to accommodate by breaking for him. The minute growth when it didn't want to, wasn't meant to, made all the difference as the sensation went through his cock, and it got to swell as her ass tore.

She lost some of that wonderful banshee voice when he laid her flat, and fucked into her. Her could hear her noises vibrate against his chest as he crushed her, and continued to rape her anus. She listened but she didn't answer. He fucked her for a while, slamming his hips into her ass to get his frustrations out on her intestines, the violence of the blunt trauma of his body hammering into her feeling good for him, enjoying the resistance her physical self offered to his beating.

"Did you fucking say 'no more'?" he hissed into her ear. His spit sprayed on her earshell in his anger as he angled his cock so it would tear worse at her, even at the cost of his own pleasure. "Answer me, whore." he ordered her. "ARE you enjoying my cock in your ass? ARE you going to be a good house whore for your Jack?" he asked viscously as he battered her body with his. She would not get reprieve until she convinced him. He kept thrusting into her until he could feel or even hear his piss slosh around in her compacted stomach. If she was going to be his primary Quarter Maid for this place, he must train her well.

If she did say something he liked, and said it in a way he liked, he would let himself cum in her. His groans loud as he pressed his lips to her ear, all but roaring into her skull as he filled up her bleeding ass with his seed. With a sigh he'd roll over, pop out of her, and with his gory, gunky, seed and filth covered cock still swinging, he would expect the battered and bleeding woman to clean him off. Sometimes he didn't mind tucking himself back in and leaving after getting off, but for a Quarter Maid, cleanup was a big part of the job.

If she didn't have the wits to answer him like he wanted, he could simply continue ravaging her new crevice until she took his verbal corrections to heart, and said what he wanted.
 
He was crushing her down, his heavy body hard against her back, she could barely breathe, and still the cock was hammering into her, ripping her apart inside, and the weight of him on top of her made it all the worse, as if the cock that he was ramming into her had nowhere else to go except to create a new space for itself inside her, and she felt like it was hammering into places it hadn't been before, so that nothing in her body would ever be right again, nothing would ever be the way it had before, with this man, this THING, having invaded her insides and destroyed them.

She heard his anger as he responded to her appeal of "no more", and he was ramming himself harder inside her, making her hurt in new ways, and she cried out "AaaaahhHH!", though her scream was quieter than it might have been, with his body crushing her from above, making it hard to pull in a breath. He asked if she was enjoying it – but she was not a whore, she wasn't used to lying to the man who was raping her, and she didn't understand what he wanted – she screamed out "NOO please I can't take it please I can't please stop please!" – but his response to that was not to stop, but to carry on, each thrust ramming up through her ass with searing agony, as she screeched out "No please please I can't aaaahhhhaaaaplease no!"

Only after several more minutes of the agony inside her, of his brutal, relentless rape, did Sophie's pain-filled mind register what he wanted to hear. It was a betrayal of herself, of Richard, of everything in her life, but she had to stop the pain, she had to keep him from raping her ass any more, and she sobbed "Yes – I love it – I do I love youraaaahhh cock in my ass" – and she kept on saying it, until finally he removed it, leaving her gasping and sobbing, her gaping anus seeping blood and semen – he must have ejaculated, but she didn't know when, she couldn't tell, all that she knew is that her body had been irrevocably ruined by the force of his rape.

He was out of her, but her head wasn't all there. She lay on the bed, shaking and sobbing; her hands crept behind her to feel her ass, but as soon as she touched it, she felt the pain, the gaping injury, and she pulled her hand away, sobbing more. "Doctor", she whispered. "I ... need ... doctor". He was standing next to her, his huge cock covered in the remnants of her ass, of his own semen, but she did not register that she was supposed to do anything with it, she only knew that she needed to get to a hospital, to have someone treat her.
 
This was why he loved fucking them in the ass. They all knew to give up their cunts. But the crushing tightness of a pussy was much different from that or a decapitating sphincter and the ribbed intestines of someone who wasn't even used to his size in their vag. Add to that how he could slam his entire body weight down on hers, and it became a much fuller kind of intimacy. Had Sophie even felt this close to her husband? Her screams reverberated into his chest as he choked them with himself, pushing down on her after having lifted himself up.

The reflexive hugging of her shit tunnel was novel, and the stops in her were entertaining obstacles to push through, digging her out with the violence of his ever advancing tip. Like his cock was a spear and her flesh was soft and pliable. He huffed, delighted, into her ear as he slammed into her, hips connecting to her poor asscheeks. He laughed with some frustation into her eardrum when she didn't understand what to answer. He fucked her harder for it, messing up her lower digestive system with his reaching rod until she finally gathered it in her soft and mushy brain. Not that her begging hadn't been pleasing. He understood. This was the most pain she'd felt in her life, and he was happy to have taught her that with his cock. All women's grand lessons would be from his manhood. And she did learn.

He helped her confess as she proclaimed her love for his cock. His harder thrusts down to push out more of her words were accompanied by his cumming. He growled in her ear as they both reached the pinnacle of their sensation, though on different ends of the spectrum. He gasped, proud and aroused, when he looked down and saw his cock unsheathe from her ruined asshole, unable to close. His cock dripped cum and blood into the gape and then he moved to look straight into it, spitting into the man-made structure in the woman's ass.

When he took himself to her side, the postcum kept oozing, seeing her delirium after having been opened up. He had remade her to fit him. It made him deeply proud to see the effect he had on her body, but also her psyche. He chuckled when she pulled her fingers back from her raw, dug-out ass.

"Nevermind a doctor. Suck my dick clean." He said and waited for her to do as she was told. If she did not, he would simply grab her hair hand yank her toward him, using her strands to wipe the worst of her gunk off before he slammed his cock past her lips and opened up her throat for full insertion. Of course, she could avoid all this if she had the presence of mind to clean him by herself.

Either way he would end up with his cock free. He had already picked his phone up, writing Eva.

"Sophie in my quarters. I want a fresh cunt and ass print. Use the blood, not ink. And have her husband fix her ass, he's a surgeon. After that, send her right back to my quarters." He sent it and it ignored whatever complaints Sophie had as he got dressed again.
 
Suck his dick clean. Sophie cringed at the coarse words, but she knew she had to do it. Groaning, she took the cock in her hands and started to suck on the tip, gagging at the taste. She quickly realized that there was no way she could get this monstrous thing into her mouth deep enough to clean the whole thing - at least, not without breaking her throat as much as he had already broken her ass. She was sick at the thought, but she took her mouth off of the cock, and started to lick it up and down instead, though it was all she could do not to throw up at the taste. She licked it up and down in long, slow strokes, her scared eyes looking up on him; she felt more and more sick, like the sickness was clamping inside of her, like her injuries were taking her over. But ths managed to keep going, not throwing up, though she came close, gagging and retching several times, but each time she resumed, until the cock was completely clean,

Then she watched him as he got dressed. He had barely finished when an attractive young woman with short dark hair came into the room; she was walking a little gingerly, and Sophie's miserable eyes looked at her - and saw that, like Catherine the day before, the woman was dressed in strappy leather with her boobs exposed, and had a badge clipped to her nipple: she was clearly trying to stop the badge from swinging, though she was also doing her best not to show her discomfort.

Eva looked down at Sophie, and took out a pad for collecting a print. "Open your legs," she said abruptly. Sophie let out a sob, but painfully opened her legs wide, revealing her torn and bleeding ass. Eva did not show any emotion: she performed the procedure with clinical efficiency, and then placed the resulting print into a plastic bag for safe keeping. "Come with me", she said, and took her by the hand, carefully helping her to her feet.

The two women started to go out of the room, Sophie staggering, walking bow-legged and a little hunched over, holding her hands over her naked body. As soon as the door closed behind them, Eva addressed Sophie with a little more gentleness: she knew that they were not under surveillance and couldn't be heard.

"Can you walk? You need to do the best you can; I'm going to take you to your husband – no, not permanently," she quickly explained as Sophie gave a gasp of relief. "But he's a doctor – you need a doctor, and he's the only one authorized to treat you."

"But – but he's a cardiologist", Sophie croaked, disbelievingly. "What can ... no please, just take me to him."

Eva didn't say anything; she seemed to be focusing on her breast. She took a deep breath and in a sudden movement removed the badge from it – and then she almost doubled over with pain herself; and Sophie heard an agonized "Ngghhhhhhh!" emerging from between her gritted teeth. With tears in her eyes, she waited for the pain to subside, and then took the hand once again of the disbelieving Sophie.

Eva walked Sophie down some more corridors; Sophie's head was spinning, she was staggering with the pain, the blood slowly drying on her naked body. Then Eva stopped. "Wait here," she said, and ducked into a room, and came out pushing a trolley covered with a white sheet. "Come on," she said, and continued leading her down another set of corridors, until she opened the door of another room, and – and Sophie's heart leapt as she saw Richard inside the room.

"Richard!" she cried out, and almost fell into his arms.

Richard looked at the naked, bloodied body of his wife with utter horror and disbelief. "Sophie – oh my god, Sophie, what's happened to you, what have they done to you?"

Sophie was sobbing, "Please, Richard, please take me away, they've hurt me so badly, I need a hospital."

"Yes, of course, darling. My car's outside. Lean on me, I'm here, I'll look after you."

They stepped toward the door of the room – only for Eva to block their way.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Avery," she said in a level voice. "Mrs. Avery is not permitted to leave the building."

"WHAT!!!" Richard had been on edge the whole day, and this led him to explode. "Just get out of my way, young lady. I'm taking my wife away from here. She's been hurt, I need to get her treatment."

Eva was unfazed by his outburst. "Dr. Avery, I may only be a woman, but I am an authorized representative of the Compliance Office, answerable only to Jack Rowan. If you attempt to leave this room with your wife, I will call Security and have you arrested."

Richard breathed harder, fury in his eyes, his arm around Sophie's shoulder. "But – look at her. Those – those – she's been hurt. She needs treatment."

"Yes, Dr. Avery. She does. And she will get treatment: but only from you."

Richard shook his head. "This is crazy. I can't treat her. It's not my specialty – and I need equipment, drugs."

Eva moved a little aside and pulled in the trolley, throwing off the sheet to reveal an array of equipment, including labelled medications.

"You will find what you need here, Dr. Avery. This is not the first time we have had to arrange for medical care here: we have all the necessary equipment."

Richard seemed about to say something more, but Sophie held onto him. "Please, darling," she croaked. "Please. I – I trust you. I know you can do it. I love you."

Richard looked at her, his face softening; he looked over at Eva. "I need to clean up first," he said in a cold voice.

Eva nodded. "Yes, Dr. Avery, of course. You'll find a bathroom behind you." And as he turned to go to it, Eva put a gentle hand on Sophie's shoulder, guiding her to a table in the room, which she opened out, and then helped her lay down on it.

Richard came out of the bathroom; he saw Sophie laying on the table. He swallowed, but then came over and took her hand. "Let me examine you, darling", he said, and as gently as possible had her roll onto her side. Although Sophie could not see this, Eva saw the anger in his face as he looked at the state of her ass.

"I'll be back to collect her in three hours, Dr. Avery", Eva said in a level, emotionless voice. "Make sure you're finished by then." And she walked out and closed the door behind her without giving Richard a chance to reply.
 
He had seen this kind of diligence before. He saw it was impossible from her initial thought to suck him clean. But he let her learn that. Maybe she'd seen in his pandering eyes that it would not work, because she changed course. Her eyes were beautiful, full of fear and future trauma as her tongue shaved the coat of ass and blood and cum off his shaft while it softened. He liked that she was still beholden to his dick, even when the arousal disappeared from it. He could have fucked her again, to show her that she was more resilient than she thought. Her gagging was a pretty rhythm that he listened to, puffs of air warming his wet appendage while she was polishing it. He let her finish.

As he got dressed, and Eva came in, he nodded to his new secretary, and loomed over them to see the fresh print on the pad. He clapped Eva twice on the tit that did not have the badge before he left. She would soon receive a message that he wanted the feed of the operation.

Jack Rowan should be visiting the Supermarket which received the prints from Jupiter. But he was bound for some leisure as well. Work and free time was mixed with a man in his position, and sometimes people assumed Jacks lived for their work, but he kept some hobbies outside of it, as well. One such was the pack. Ever since he was a child he'd been fascinated with the obedience of dogs, and when he had the resources to keep them, he had ventured into it eagerly. The eventual result of several generations of dog ownership, were three large individuals, bred to his specifications. The leader, a tall dog with the name of Andulau, was a purified mix of dogo argentino and dobberman. With some modifying breeds added, it was about the height of his elbow, when they were both standing next to each other. Like his swords, Andulau was ornamental and symbolic. The muscle definition of the animal was intimidating, and its angular face was handsome, belying the massive jaw muscles.

He strode the street with Andulau. It was an humbling sight, ever since the handler, a woman named Erica Velence, had delivered the formidable dog outside Compliance Office. Her strange attire of a short skirt and a collar herself, suggested how she'd been instructed to train and maintain the dogs. Andulau was perfectly conditioned to walk side by side with Troy, but he still kept a leather leash hanging slack between them. The symbol on Andulau's collar showed his rank. Since the supermarket in question was rather far away, Troy would not be visiting it today, and instead messaged Eva to have the relevant staff shipped to Verillion immediately, and in their absence go through their homes and belongings. The Compliance Office of course had airfare in their budget, not to mention real airline connection to most places in the country. There had been two people of interest, after all. If they were not there, they could not control what the search party found in their wake, and any other suspicious behavior could be clocked by the boots on the ground. The Verillion office was the flagship department of all Compliance in all the states.

Admittedly, for all his separation of fun and work, Troy did think about the case even when enjoying his pet, walking the city street toward the park. It was impossible to know he deemed himself on a break, when he still had his suit and swords on, and it wasn't uncommon for well-trained canines to be used in the service of Compliance. He picked up his phone as he stepped through the gates of the park, to review the stream of Sophie's operation. Andalau looked around, but did not bend down to sniff around since he had not been given the permission from Troy yet.
 
Richard put on a pair of surgical gloves and gingerly examined Sophie's ass, trying his best not to touch where it was injured, but even the limited examination made her groan with pain. He took a flashlight, and tried to see into her anal passage, but there was too much blood, and he couldn't tell where exactly the injury was. He thought for a moment, trying to detach his medical mind from his concern for his wife, then he looked around the room. He saw a sofa with a number of cushions on it, and he went over to get them, then piled several on the table.

"Sophie, darling," he said gently. "I'm going to need you to lay over these." And he helped her roll over on the table, so that she was on her front, her stomach was resting on the cushions, and her ass in the air.

"I need to clean you out now, darling", Richard said. "I need to be able to see where you're hurt, so that I can fix it." He went over to the trolley and found a bottle of saline solution and a large syringe. He filled the syringe up, and then also soaked a clean pad of gauze in the saline. He inserted the syringe into Sophie's still gaping ass, and then ejected the saline into it. Sophie's eyes opened wide, and she gave a gasping shudder, but stayed still. Then Richard started to gently clean around the anal opening – and the moment he touched her, Sophie's body jerked up, and she wailed "Owww!!"

"Please, you have to stay still, darling", Richard said. Sophie resumed the position, though she was shaking a little. "Please, Richard – can't you give me something to stop the pain?"

Richard's face hardened in anger, though Sophie was facing forward and could not see it. The trolley that Eva had brought was remarkably well equipped in every way but one. No painkillers. No anesthetics. He silently cursed the Compliance Office and everyone connected with it. But he didn't let the anger show in his voice; instead he said quietly, "I'm sorry, darling – there's nothing here for that, but I'm going to make it as easy as I can".

He cleaned around the opening of the anus and the immediate inside, examining the injuries, which were as severe as he had feared. He tried to push the gauze in deeper, inserting his fingers, while Sophie groaned louder, but he couldn't see inside and work with his fingers at the same time. He looked back at the table. "I'm sorry, darling. I'm going to have to open you up, to see inside"

He had seen on the trolley a rectal speculum, and he took it now; he inserted it in, and then slowly, carefully, levered it open – and as soon as he did, Sophie screeched "AAAEEIII!!" and rolled away from him. "Please – please don't, please don't," she sobbed.

"Sophie," Richard said quietly. "get back on the cushions."

"No", she sobbed. "Please – it hurts too much".

"Sophie, we only have limited time, and I have to fix this. Now get on the cushions", and almost imperceptibly, Richard's voice had moved from a request to a command.

Sophie sobbed again, and rolled onto the cushions. Richard started to ratchet open the speculum a little wider – and again Sophie screamed "AAHHHH!!" and rolled away.

"Sophie," and now Richard's voice was sharp. "We don't have time for this." He looked over at the trolley – and realized that on the lower tray, there was other kinds of equipment than the medical. He went over to it, and then came back. He took Sophie's arm gently – but then snapped a cuff around it, then did the same to the other, and before Sophie could resist, he had cuffed them to the legs of the table in front of her.

"RICHARD NO WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

"It's for your own good, darling", Richard said, as he cuffed her legs down as well. He finished off with a long leather strap, which went over her waist and under the table, holding her in place on top of the cushions.

Richard was far from the typical authoritative, sexist husband – but he had been brought up in a world where men commanded, and he instinctively knew to control a woman when he needed to: that was simply what a man did. And it was for her own sake – that was absolutely true. He needed to keep her under control for her own sake, so that he could fix her injuries.

As Sophie struggled to pull her wrists and ankles free, Richard was already back at her ass. Despite her protests, he opened it up, then took a probe, put the saline-soaked gauze on the end, and started to clean her up inside, going a good 12 or more inches in, to ensure that he had reached everything. As the blood was cleaned away, he saw a series of tears and perforations all down the anal channel, and his face hardened.

He looked back at the trolley. This should be done under general anesthetic, by a specialist in gastroenterology: but he had no anesthetic, and he had to do the best he could. He took a long, sterile needle and thread – and Sophie at that moment twisted her neck and saw what he had, and she screeched out "NOOOO DON'T PLEASE PLEASE DON'T!!"

Richard ignored her – but then he ratcheted the speculum open more, and reached inside Sophie's ass for the deepest tear, piercing the side of the bowel with the needle.

And Sophie screeched "AAAEEEIIIIII! AAAAEEEII AEEEIAAAHHH STOP AAEEIII" – the pain was indescribable. She felt like she was being stretched out further than the Jack's cock had done, and the piercing needle in her bowel was a new, utter agony.

Richard stopped. "Sophie, I need to concentrate, and I can't while you're screeching." And he went back to the trolley, and then came round to Sophie's head – and as she opened her mouth, he rammed a large ball gag behind her teeth. Her eyes bulged – she tried to push the gag out with her tongue, but Richard had already strapped it behind her head. "MMPHHH MGGGHHH!" she wailed.

Richard looked sad; he stroked her cheek and said "I'm sorry, darling" in a quiet voice, and then went back to her ass.

Over the next two hours, while Sophie went out of her mind with pain, Richard slowly stitched up her ass, starting with the deepest tears inside it, and then moving out toward the anal opening, gradually closing up the speculum as he did so. Sophie was struggling and screaming into the gag until she was too hoarse to scream any more, but Richard ignored her, and focused only on the careful stitching, inserting the needle into her sensitive flesh again and again, pulling the stitches tight, closing up the ass as he did so. He finished by carefully stitching around the opening itself. Sophie's face was on the table, and she was still shaking and sobbing into the gag; there were red marks on her wrists and ankles from where the cuffs had cut into her.

Richard finally released her, ungagging her and taking off the cuffs. He took a bottle of pills from the trolley and made her swallow one, then he gently took her off the table. He removed his gloves and threw them away, and then he sat down; he put Sophie on the floor next to him, seated in such a way that her ass was protected. She would not look at him, but he stroked her hair tenderly.

At that point Eva came back in. "The three hours are up, Dr. Avery".

Richard's face was stern and his voice firm and authoritative. "You can tell Jack Rowan that my wife is ... fixed" and he spoke the word with bitter irony. "You can ALSO tell him that her ass is not to be used for at least a month – that is my MEDICAL advice. Mrs. Avery also needs to take these antibiotics twice a day" and he held up the bottle of pills to Eva. "Make sure that she does."

Eva simply nodded. "I'm sure that the Jack will hear your recommendation, Dr. Avery, sir", she said quietly, as she gently lifted Sophie to her feet and led her from the room. Richard tried to call out something, but Sophie did not even look back at him, stumbling awkwardly next to Eva. As the door closed behind them, Richard slumped back in the chair and started to cry quietly.


*****

Sarah Miller had come to work as usual. She greeted Megan, her co-worker, and then started processing the mail and other packages that came in, while Megan was working on the delivery inventories. They shared these duties more or less equally, depending on what seemed most urgent at any particular time. Sarah enjoyed the work – she enjoyed it more than she had expected to when she first took it on; it was less dully repetitive than most jobs that women held, and it was a break from her domestic life.

Sarah loved her husband, as much as she loved anyone, but she was not someone who readily gave herself over to sentiment, and she was also quick to pass judgment on others. When Megan had begun working at the supermarket, Sarah had looked her up and down, taking in the huge tits, and while she had said nothing, Megan could certainly guess her thoughts. Of course, Sarah realized that this must have been Megan's husband's choice, not her own, but she nevertheless despised her for it: even if it was her husband, that only showed how little Megan counted in her relationship with her husband. She knew that her own Paul would never do such a thing – or if he wanted it, Sarah was confident that she would find a way to talk him out of it.

Sarah was a good mother, too – if not, once again, an especially affectionate one. She knew precisely what her children needed, and gave them that, but no more. She was glad when they were old enough to be able to go out to work; she kept an eye on their schooling without applying too much pressure on them over it. Sex with Paul was fine: he had an excessive liking for anal sex, unfortunately, and that was something she hadn't been able to talk him out of, but she had learned to handle it, and he alternated it up with her vagina, which was better – sometimes it was even fun: Paul cared about her pleasure, at least some of the time, and that made her marriage relatively satisfactory, as much as any marriage could be satisfactory.

*****

Megan Cooper and Sarah Miller were both picked up from the supermarket that day and transported to the Compliance Office in Verillion. Both women were terrified; one of them could guess why this was happening, but the other had no idea. They were placed in cages and put in the hold of an airplane to fly them to the capital; and there the cages were lifted from the plane and put into a van, where they were driven to the Compliance Office. They were taken out of the cages and led into a room, where they were ordered to stand in front of a table side by side. They tried to look at each other, but the guard in the room snapped at them to face forward. So they stood there; fortunately for them, they were not in heels, as they had changed into their work shoes on arrival at the supermarket, but Megan's back was still hurting.
 
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Troy enjoyed his day at the park. He had sat mostly looking at the medical procedures Richard Avery had performed. The Jack had been delighted to see Sophie turn away from her husband, and the man's insistence on being obeyed. Troy remembered himself how he had just taken what he wanted, leaving her in this state to need her husband's help. And help it was; it wasn't expertise. The cameras in the room would now and then find an opportune angle to show her ass, and even at a distance, it was fucked open. Richard's frustrations built, but he pulled himself together.

Troy did frown about how weak Richard was in telling his wife off. Troy remembered how she'd screamed for him, and how good that tearing had felt around his cock, her inner giving way, expanding when it should not. He liked it when Richard had to pin her down and use the speculum. It all seemed medically sound, without anesthetics. As it turned out, he may be a good rectal surgeon if he tried, one day. Sophie was not so grateful for his work and Troy laughed when the gag was put in. Women ended up in the same positions, always. Not even Troy had tied her down like this. Admittedly, this was very entertaining, especially since Troy had made this rushed procedure necessary in the first place.

The sweet scene at the end was a good roundoff, and Eva conducted herself as she should. She was a bit of a bleeding heart, wasn't she? As long as she didn't let it get in the way of her service of him, he could let it be.

In the park a woman with practical clothes, as much as she was allowed to wear, which meant shorts that covered half her asscheeks and a severely zipped down actiwear top which showed off a rather modest pair of breasts and her prominent sternum, strode by him with three small dogs in leashes. With Andulau seated next to the bench where the Jack had sat, she stopped. Her running shoes suggested she had gone to the park with the purpose of walking the dogs for someone else, with enough power to exempt her from heels. Dog walker was a female accessible profession. The woman's prominent legs and hind showed she liked physical activity. It had made her lower half attractive while it had cost her the fat to build a good bust. She stopped to greet him, tying her own dogs to the opposite side of the bench, and offered a quick suck of his cockhead as well as enveloping each of his balls.

After that, she presented herself as Anya Samson, and inquired about Andulau. Anya, despite being the canine enthusiast that she said, was not so happy toward the end of the conversation, when Troy pointed out Andulau's rank and that the dog too was owed tribute. Anya's fascination did not existent to the dog's cock, but when Andulau started sniffing that ass she was so proud of, the Jack did not let her refuse. Troy even engaged himself to hold her head down and her hands behind her back to give Andulau access. When the giant dog fucked the living shit out of Anya, who was as disgraceful as to crying at the end of it, her own dogs were whimpering to see their walker mounted by the beast. The people who stopped to watch were entertained. After, Anya had the good sense to wipe her tears and courtesy and walk home without her shorts as per the Jack's instructions. Andulau receive a dog treat of dried beef ear and a pet between his own ears before they left the park.

So, the Jack was in a good mood when he came back to work, later. He would have gotten notice that the people from that particular supermarket had come, to the same interrogation room that he'd first met Sophie in.

He had the same presence this time, after leaving Andulau off in his quarters, where he quickly nodded at the worse for wear Sophie before exiting to come here.

He looked from Sara to Megan, and scoffed at Megan's proportions. He shook his head. "Your husband is an imbecile." He said. He knew about her breasts from reports but seeing them in real life was still quite the vision. He sat down opposite them and gestured to Megan. "Alright, then, before greetings, let's just get this over with. Let's see them." He said with a tired sigh. He would let Megan greet him first, because of that, and while she did, he looked over at Sara.

"You are both here because of your workplace's involvement in the Florence network." He explained, unsure if they'd been briefed. He would expect Sara to greet him as soon as Megan was done. He was of course concentrating on their faces to see what clues they'd give away. There was a possibility both of them were involved but for now, he felt that only one could be the culprit.

With a few touches to the phone infront of him, the video feed of Melody's cell came up. He assumed she'd be in any relevant state of misery after what he'd done to her last. With her feed a few options of earlier material came up. He showed her current state to both the new prisoners, and then accessed the last time Melody had been in this room, especially her torture. Her screams were blasted loudly due to the speaker technology of his phone - only the best for the compliance office.

"Does either of you think you'll do better than Melody? She's the one who sent you the prints." He said, deadpan as Melody was suffering loudly on the little screen. "If not, then is there anything you would like to tell me before we start?"
 
Sophie was sitting miserably waiting in the room after Eva had returned her there. Her ass was still in horrendous, agonizing pain, though she was aware of the restored tightness - but all along it the pain burned like fire. She hated Richard for what he had done to her - no, not hated, she still loved him, at least she thought she did, but she would never forget or forgive the way he had tied her down, gagged her, stabbed her inside with that needle again and again and again while Sophie was begging for him to stop. Why couldn't he have taken her to a hospital - given her an anesthetic, had her seen properly by a specialist? Why did he have to do it all himself? And yes, she knew why, she had heard Eva forbid him to leave with her, but surely Richard would have some way to get around that? He was important, he was a doctor, he knew people - but no, he just accepted it, he had tortured her himself, almost as badly as the Jack had, and she was hurting inside so much, she could feel the burning pain up through her ass to her stomach. And now she was back in the Jack's room – what would he do to her? Why was Richard making her do this?

After a time, the Jack opened the door – but he did not come in to receive her homage: instead he looked at her, and then let in a huge dog and closed the door, leaving Sophie and the dog alone.

Sophie was always scared of dogs, she had never owned one, and something about this dog in particular made her terrified: the way it was looking at her, sniffing at her , as she stood in front of it, naked and scared. She retreated onto the bed, but the dog snarled at her and came over; it was so tall that its muzzle extended over the bed where Sophie was huddled up. She clutched her knees to her chest, sobbing quietly as the dog sniffed over her.

******

Sarah and Megan were standing waiting; Megan's back was hurting even more than usual, as she was forced to stand upright. The guard was looking at her chest and sniggering – she was used to that, plenty of men sniggered at her, but having that kind of attention when she was already under arrest made her heart race faster.

Then they heard the door open behind them, and the Jack came into the room. Both women started to kneel down to greet him, but he stopped them; he ordered Megan to expose her boobs first. This was not unexpected, at least to Megan: men wanted to see her boobs the whole time, and this man had the power to enforce it. So she lifted up her top and showed the massive, unproportioned globes, with her nipples standing hard from them – it looked like she was turned on, but that was simply a side-effect of the enlargement, another thing which caused Megan constant embarrassment.

When the Jack had had sufficient time to view them, she lowered her top again, and knelt down to give him the appropriate greeting. She undid his pants and took out his cock; she blinked several times at the size, but she lifted it, weighing it in her hand, and placed a respectful, worshipful kiss on the head. Then she shuffled back and let Sarah take her turn. Sarah would generally have been more perfunctory in her greeting, but her fear made her more submissive than usual, and she, too , took the cock in her hand and lifted it to her lips to kiss respectfully. Then she returned it to his pants; both women stood up in front of him.

When he mentioned the Florence Network, Megan's face remained impassive, though Sarah breathed in sharply; but neither woman moved. But then he took out his phone and held it up in front of them – a woman laying groaning in a cell, but then the same woman screaming, being raped in the ass by the massive cock which they had just greeted. Neither of them recognized the name "Melody", but the scene was horrific – and both women imagined the same thing happening to them, the same, or maybe worse – the woman in the cell seemed to have many more injuries than could have been inflicted by an ass rape alone.

Sarah was the first to speak. "Please – I don't know anything! I don't know about the Florence Network, I've never heard of anyone called Melody. It's not me you want – it must be her! She's the one, her husband, he's in HR, he got her hired. She's the one". Her voice was desperate, though the malice towards Megan in it was obvious.

"NO!" Megan responded with indignation. "Don't listen to her – she's gotten it all wrong! She's been working there longer than I have – she's the one who knows how everything operates. I've never heard of Melody – I don't know anything about it. It's all a mistake – it's Sarah!"
 
Troy liked seeing the uncertainty in them. He had a lot of fun in this room. It filled his soul, not just because he knew what was right for the state, but because he knew in his marrow that women should suffer, and that their suffering should be enjoyed. If not, then why did they do it so well, even when they did it in an ugly way? He inhaled their sour distress hormones in this enclosed space. And when he would sate his cursory curiosity about Megan's exaggerated bust, she obeyed. No woman should be foreign to exposing herself, but he thought Megan did it particularly well. She should be apt at it, given how her attributes had been enhanced. It had become her main purpose.

"Hm." The Jack offered when she exposed herself. He had been wondering if they'd jiggle or not, and whether or not it had been a good job, or if there'd be clear signs of the operation. Since he had the power to do this to any female in the country, he had quite the bank of pairs to look through in his memory palace. He liked the nipples too, and there was always satisfaction to have an itch scratched, and to know it cost the woman some dignity, to first be dressed, and then not, infront of an authority figure. At least, if Megan was indeed a rebel, she did not show it now.

His cock had just a little more blood in it when Megan put her tits away and paid the cock respect. He let her feel it's heft and he always enjoyed when they balked at his size. Sara was tentative because of that too. They both submitted their lips to the cause and his cock was given back, his pants closed and zipped. They had just kissed their demise like it was their lover.

From where he sat he looked at them both quietly for a moment, taking them in, and then he watched them react to the video. Sarah was more dramatic. He liked seeing them turning on each other, but neither incriminated themselves enough for him to indict. Yet.

He lifted his hand to quiet their hysterics. He was sure it'd shut them up. "Megan." He said and waved her in. And when she came close enough, and bent down, he slapped her. He was good at it. There was an elective class on exactly how to slap a woman. Open handed correction, location; cranium He was sometimes invited to teach enthusiastic cadettes. This time he had chosen one with fanned fingers and a lot of palm, between her cheekbone and her ear, for good pushing power as well as punishing impact. It was designed to throw her on the floor.

"Who told you to put your tits away?" He asked. The motion had him lean forward and now he sat back. He looked at Sarah as he assumed Megan would correct her mistake.

"Yours as well." He ordered with a bit more patience, given as she hadn't done anything wrong yet. "On your knees, beside each other."
 
Megan's boobs were firm, but even so, they did wobble a little when she displayed them to the Jack, and the operation was good enough to pass muster in itself, apart from the unnatural size that they had left her with; there was only a little scarring on the underside, and that would not be visible unless Megan actively lifted up her boobs or someone else took them to see underneath.

But when she was kneeling in front of the Jack, when she had just finished her outburst accusing Sarah of treachery, she heard him say her name. What did he want of her? Was this a sign that he believed her, or that he didn't? She barely had a chance to process the thought in her head when he gestured for her to come closer. She shuffled forward toward him on her knees - only to be met immediately with a sharp slap to her cheek. She cried out "Ohhh!" as she was knocked backward, her hand automatically flying to her cheek to protect it - but then she saw the Jack's face and hurriedly lowered her hand, although her heart was racing with fear; she slowly lifted herself back into her kneeling position.

He told her that she had not been given permission to cover her boobs again, and, shaking a little, her eyes brimming with tears, lifted up her top to uncover them once more.

Sarah had been watching this with pleased malice in her eyes. The bitch was getting what she deserved - not least for having those tits. She was worried that the Jack's violence might now turn to her, though, when he addressed her, and she quickly removed her own top to match Megan. Her own boobs were hardly spectacular - 37 years and five rounds of breast-feeding didn't do them much good - they weren't especially large, and they sagged a little; but the inhuman globes sported by Megan made Sarah feel that the comparison was in her favor, unless the person looking was a total pervert. She was wearing a button blouse, and unbuttoned it and took it off completely, so that her whole upper body was naked; her skin was freckled, especially on her shoulders. She looked at the Jack steadily, though she was more nervous than she let on - he could easily turn on her any time. She moved quickly to kneel next to Megan; and both women looked up at him, Megan still tearful, but both asking themselves what might come next.
 
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The Jack of course enjoyed the sight of the huge tits. They were well made, the industry of making women better for their men had of course had priority since the new era of correct rule had started. It was obvious, though, that even if women could be made to their spouse's specifications physically, the first and foremost need was for their behavior to be up to par. That's where the compliance office came in. And that's why he needed to intervene now. With his hand on her face. Her tits, in their unallowed confines, jiggled when Megan fell back. His palm had been delighted to kiss her face.

When she sat back up she did well in obeying, but it was about as impressive as her fake tits when they plopped free once more. Of course she knew to follow instructions under the threat of the full force of the state. Even violent rebels knew such self preservation. At least she made a rousing ornament on the floor. He liked her beaten expression, and the fear that he could smell off her.

Sarah was quick to follow. She was a more stoic personality which was more fun to upset. That would definitely come later. For now he enjoyed the collection of the pair of pairs, knelt infront of him. His chair allowed him to turn their way completely with its swivel. He lifted his boot and used the toe to scoop one of Megan's tits up from below. They were fun to play with, he had to admit. He glimpsed the scar there but didn't care, and let the tit fall back. He then did the same thing to Sarah's. It was softer, smaller and saggier, but natural. She had five children. They had done their part in aging her breasts. He liked that.

He then put his boots down, soles to the floor. "Sarah." He said and pointed to them. She would know to start licking. He then turned to Megan. "Your supermarket has been connected to the Florence Network. That much is clear from our sources." That alone should worry them, but even someone innocent would have made peace with that from hearing it earlier. "So one of you, or both, are insulting my intelligence with continued silence." He kept looking over them, though he'd be left with mostly the back of Sarah's head if she'd obeyed. He was searching for signs of lying. "And someone here thinks she'll do better than poor Melody." He added. He was obviously not content with the information they'd given him so far. He was letting them stew in the overhanging threat. They would not have been brought here for no reason.

"Megan. Come over. You've given a titfuck before, right?" He said. His cock was available for her to take out, and she could choose herself whether she jerked or sucked it to hardness, or both. Troy would not actively try to stop himself from arousal. He had to test her abilities out, but before he was done, he could get a confession out of them. Even if he'd have to cut one out.

His weapon belt hung over the back of the chair and a quick motion with his wrist back at it, and a pinch with three fingers, pulled out a small, thin-bladed knife from its sheath. He loosely held the handle between thumb and index as the women worked with their mouths and tongues. He tested the tip of the blade against the corner of his mouth, as though considering how to use it on them. If either of them looked up and saw, there'd be no mercy in his eyes.
 
Megan felt the boot lifting up her boob. She was used to men playing with her boobs, treating them like toys, but somehow the way the Jack was doing it was more demeaning than anything she had ever experienced. Craig handled them like precious objects, lovingly and generously; the men who groped her in the street or on the subway were rougher, more careless, but they still used their hands, seemed to appreciate everything that her tits had to offer. But the Jack was using his boot, and all she could feel was the leather lifting up the gross weight from underneath, high enough that he could get a view of them. Megan, however, stayed as still as she could, not moving, until he finally put his foot down and the boob fell back into place.

Sarah, unlike Megan, did not have much experience of having her boobs manhandled. Of course, men regularly gave them a quick squeeze, but that was just par for the course for any woman. Her husband preferred other parts of her, and was perfunctory in his attentions to his boobs. So when the Jack switched from Megan to her, it came as an unwelcome surprise, but she knew better than to move, she stayed still, although her eyes flashed angrily across to Megan. If it hadn't been for her, for her stupid tits, Sarah herself wouldn't have to undergo this now. Another reason for Sarah to resent her co-worker.

He finished lifting her boob with his boot, and put his foot down, signaling to her – and of course she got the message immediately. She had licked men's boots more times than she could count, when she needed to show appropriate respect, and she started to lick slowly, meticulously over it, trying to ensure that every inch was covered with her saliva. But while she was licking, she was also listening hard, as the Jack described how someone at the supermarket was a traitor. Sarah licked harder, terrified by the reminder of the tortured woman they had been shown, though she also tried to sense how Megan was responding to this revelation.

Megan remained as impassive as she could, though her heart was pounding with fear inside her. It was a relief when he ordered her to give him a tit job. That was something she could do easily, and she thought she was good at it, though she'd never done it for anyone except Craig. She carefully extracted his cock from his pants, and she placed it against her breastbone. Then she pressed together her boobs on either side of it, and started to move her body up and down, so that the cock slid along her breastbone, held in place by her boobs; and it was large enough that, as she moved down, she was able to reach the tip of it with her mouth, and she planted a kiss on it before moving up, and then down again, flicking her tongue over the cock head, and then up. She pressed her tits harder, so that the cock was stimulated more, and moved her body faster; she was gratified to feel it hardening, and she started to knead and roll her tits a little more, so that he could feel the change in pressure.

But her eyes were on him, and she saw him flip out the blade and hold it against his mouth. His eyes were cold, terrifying, and Megan gasped and started to panic inside, but she moved faster, holding her boobs closer together and kneading them harder. Sarah heard the gasp; she didn't lift up her head, but she could sense that something had changed, and she, too, worked harder, licking the boot with more strength in her tongue.
 
Megan knew not to lean away from when his boot elevated her breast. It had a good weight to it. The boob looked almost cartoonish from where he sat. The Jack was quiet as he assessed the enhanced body part. He turned the orb this way and that to see if there'd be ridges along its side to show the outlines of the bag inside. Sarah was not as stoic in her obedience, and her breasts were not as heavy on his boot. It amused him that she looked at Megan that way, and after having assumed it was envy at first, he identified it as being angry or annoyed. He poked Sarah's nipple with the tip of his boot before letting it be. He did prefer natural things.

It did not hinder Sarah from tending to his boot with her tongue. Despite it's steel toe, the leather was soft, and he could feel the heat and friction from her licking as it went over his footwear. She wasn't being half assed about it either. It seemed that Sarah had no trouble following orders from men, but did not have much love to give to other women. At least when the other woman was Megan. He would use this if he could. Though it did paint Sarah as less likely to be involved with the Florence Network.

He had judgemental eyes on Megan when she started with her titjob. She took his cock between them well, first resting against her comparatively hard sternum until she closed her fat utters around his boiling flesh, moving herself around his cock, as though the cock was her center. He breathed through his nose as the deliciously luxurious and full hug of her breasts moved to give good, dragging pleasure along his enveloped shaft. The visual was lovely.

He groaned, which was a kindness given what he was feeling so far. It was more exciting seeing her eyes on him. And maybe she was right to, the way he was inspired by the knife. He smiled and nodded to himself when he could feel and hear Sarah rubbing her tongue harder on his boot.

His cockhead was leaking pree for Meagan's tongue, and he loved its flicks on his slit. "You're not very good at that, Megan." He said, honestly. She may have the goods and intent, but it was obvious she was used to someone else's preferences. Troy had to imagine her husband was a great deal smaller than himself. He imagined that her angle to please him was slightly off, her rising and falling a bit shallow, as though she was used to a length that would be satisfied and enveloped by much less flesh than Troy's mammoth limb required. It was not the first time women suffered the Jack's disapproval because their husbands were less of a man than him. "You're going to need more lubrication." He pointed out. "Gag yourself on it. It'll produce thicker saliva." He said and shifted to lean further back. His foot lifted to put the heel against Sarah's forehead, pushing her back so he could then put his heel down on the floor, toe up, leaving Sarah to lick the sole instead of the upper.

He waited for Megan to obey. The two women working on the floor, their mouths busy trying to get his favor, was quite the good show.

If Megan completely failed with making the valley of her tits a hospitable makeshift pussy for him, he would sigh and roll his eyes, grabbing hold of her head to keep her still so he could cut either breasts with his knife, just like she'd worried, close to his cock, so the blood coming down would help lubricate the tight space.
 
Megan was anxiously continuing to work with her tits around the cock; she thought he was liking it, but she was worried about its size, whether the techniques she had worked out to please Craig over the years would be as effective here. She was starting to get satisfied that she had it right, though: the slit at the tip of his cock was leaking, and she flicked her tongue harder at it, stroking it as she slid her body up and down, kneading her breasts around the huge rod.

But then she heard his comment that she wasn't good at it. No! What had she done wrong? What would he like that she hadn't been doing? She started to work harder with her movements, pressing her tits more firmly, with a desperation that was hurting her as her fingers dug into her own silicone-enhanced flesh, trying to add to the pressure, the stimulation; she worked her thighs and hips to move her body up and down, and all the while her eyes were flashing between the Jack's face and the knife that he was holding carelessly in his hand.

More lubrication – he wanted more lubrication – he wanted her to gag on that thing! Tears filled her eyes, but she knew she had to do it. She opened her mouth as wide as she could and then engulfed the cock head in her lips. It was huge – far too huge, and she did not know how she could accommodate it: her jaws were straining from the start, but somehow she managed to get it in, to fill her mouth with it, though that only meant the head and the top part of the shaft were inside her mouth. But she pushed down until she gagged a little – and then she had to pull her head back. Was that enough? She couldn't tell, and she forced herself to do it again, push down until she gagged, and then pull back. Her eyes were brimming with tears now, but she lifted off her head; the top part of the cock was covered with her saliva now, though was it enough? She desperately started to work again with her tits, starting with the top of the cock and sliding them down, so that the saliva was aas far as possible smoothed over its length. Was that good enough? She couldn't tell, but she was moaning as she worked with her tits, her eyes now firmly fixed on the knife.

He reached out to her like he was about to grab her head, and she wailed, "please, I'm doing it, please I'm doing it!" and her hips pumped up and down more, and she was pressing so hard on her boobs that she was bruising them as she worked them around the cock.

Sarah was listening to this: she had a malicious jump of pleasure when she heard him criticize Megan: those ludicrous boobs, and the whore didn't even know how to use them properly. But she had herself to worry about as well: she was licking the boot, but he pushed her head back and then presented his sole to her. Sarah was used to licking boots; she was not used to licking soles, and she hesitated for a moment, staring at the thing in horror. But then she dived back down and started to lick that as well – though the taste was so, so foul: she wondered what he might have stepped in, what she was licking up here. Was she going to make herself sick? and as that thought went through her head she started to gag and retch – no, she couldn't throw up, she mustn't! but she couldn't carry on licking, she simply couldn't, and she stopped, her lungs heaving as she tried to catch her breath; only then did she go back down and work on the sole again, though slower and less enthusiastically than before.
 
She looked almost content in her labor. Her tits swelled around him. There was a quiet competition - were her breasts so huge that they would be considered to be bigger than his cock was big? He had the power of course, but maybe it was relevant to determine whether she was more woman than he was man? She stuttered at his disapproval, as she should. He could get a boobjob from anyone, and pedestrian licks at his slit was nothing new or exciting. If she wanted to perform in a way that could not only spare her suffering, but also save her life, then simple bouncing on his cock while giving a normal, albeit nice hug to it, wouldn't do at all. Just because she had the assets, that were also not given to her by nature and thereby inferior in feel, it didn't mean she could slack off on skill. "You should know what men want from you." which was her breasts. "Not honing your skills is an affront to the state." he piled on. She tried to course correct, and just like he suspected, her endowments had hindered her development in other areas. Her mouth felt good on his cockhead, however much she strained to accomplish it. The wrinkles on her neck when she had to bow her head low and suck were pretty.

Troy grunted a bit at her repeated eating of his cockhead. His own head tilted to see it, thumb rubbing on the dull side of the knife's blade. It felt good. There was more pree for her and his cock swelled impossibly. But when you saw those ridiculous utters you wanted an experience beyond the ordinary. The sensation of having her mounds try to crush his cock with their softness was novel, and the increased lubrication was nice. He shifted and drank in her growing panic about it. At least the woman worked hard for once in her life. She was transfixed on the knife and he swung it subtly by shifting his wrist to keep her engaged and inspired for her task. "Mnh." he rewarded, short, when she managed to get her spit all over his cock. It was not as plentiful as other well-hydrated girls whose skills were more oral than in their bra, but Megan was starting to be able to make up for it with just the size of her breasts, now that the slickness was catching up. The Jack liked her distress more. Maybe he could give her an A for effort.

He still grabbed her by her hair, though, and looked into her eyes. He let her fear grow. She may still be bouncing on his cock. "You're a bit useless, aren't you? I think I'll have to punish your husband, as well." he said with a droning voice and put the broad side of the blade to her cheek. "Of course, I won't have to doubt your use as much if you give yourself up as a coconspirator in the Florence Network." This particular blade was scalpel sharp, and the thread of red it conjured under her cheekbone might not be felt at first. The kept her skull still so he could lift and then bring the tip of the small weapon close to her eye.

With the metal tip half a lash's distance from her pupil, she would only be able to hold his cock with her breasts and not move anymore. "I am giving you a lot of options to serve here, which one will you chose?" he offered. There was a strong suggestion that she should answer him, and that her ocular health was dependent on her answer.

He had been satisfied with Sarah's work, even when he presented her his sole. But even she was having trouble. He understood that she would, given what had happened in the dogpark earlier. One of the other officers had been walking not a dog, but a bitch, lowlier than a Quarter Maid and a Favor Girl, just simply a woman who'd been downgraded to animal. She had been made to relieve her bowels in the park, and to teach her owner a lesson in picking up, the Jack had stepped in it. The two had to clean him much the same way Sarah did, but he was sure there was shit left in the details under his boot. Sarah's gagging was amusing, but that also meant she was failing. Her return to the work with less enthusiasm was unacceptable.

A quick retreat of the boot and a flick of the toe got her on her brow. "Grab hold of it. Put your teeth and tongue between the lugs to get the shit out." he muttered and then positioned the boot so she'd have full access to the wealth of leftovers. Then he looked at Megan again, the knife at a bit more of a distance from her eye now. But the threat was the same.
 
He grabbed Megan by her hair, told her she was useless, and threatened her and Craig both; she whimpered and tried to keep moving up and down, though the tug on her scalp was brutally painful. But she needed to please him, she intuited that pleasing him was the only way she might escape intact from this, and her tits were the only exceptional asset she had that she could use to give pleasure to a man who could take any woman he wanted. But it wasn't good enough for him – he was telling her that she was useless, and she tried to knead her tits harder around the cock, to rise up and down, but the pull on her hair made that hard to do.

But then the knife was on Megan's face, and she froze. She knew she should probably be continuing with the tit-fuck, and yet she still froze in front of the sheer terror that the blade awakened in her. She felt the prick of it on her skin; for a moment she couldn't tell what was happening, but then she felt the warm trickle of blood threading down from where he had pierced her cheek. She moaned. She was still frozen, her huge tits wrapped around the huge cock, her hands pressing them in from either side. He wanted her to give herself up as a coconspirator – and the threat was terrifying: she surely would be giving herself to execution, and maybe worse, if she said anything at all which implied that she might be involved in treachery, and she remembered the horrific scene of the tortured woman on his phone. But the knife was on her face – he had cut her, maybe would cut her worse. And she did not know what to do.

And then it moved to her eye. She blinked very fast, but it was close, far too close, even a slight movement forward would send the point into her eye. She could not move, she could not even find words to speak – her throat was suddenly so dry with terror. He was waiting – he said she had a choice, but she was too panicked even to think of what her choices were.

Sarah, working down below, was barely paying attention – she was caught up entirely in her own problem. She had suddenly realized what it was that she was licking at, what the brown stuff in the tread of the boot was, and she retched violently and stopped – she felt like she was about to throw up. The Jack pulled his foot away and flicked it on her forehead – Sarah was still retching, about to vomit, but then he had his sole in front of her again, telling her how to do it. She stuck in her tongue, tasted it – and then she did throw up, her stomach turning over. The vomit did not touch his boot, but it made a mess on the floor, and Sarah looked up at him in terror, her stomach heaving still, not knowing what she should do.

The Jack had in the meantime turned his attention back to Megan; and Megan saw the blade move a little back from her eye – and she glanced down in time to see Sarah vomiting over the floor. She suddenly thought of what she had to do, what she had to say. "Please, Jack – it's not me, it's Sarah – she's the traitor not me! Look – she just proved it – she wouldn't serve your boot the way a loyal woman should! Let me prove it – I can do it, I can clean your boot better than she can, that will show that I'm a loyal woman, I'm loyal to the Nation Under Man, I am! She's the traitor!"

Sarah listened to this with horrified fury. "You fucking bitch!" she yelled. "You're the traitor, not me. I've seen those packages you've been getting, you think I haven't seen them, but I have!"

"Don't listen to her, Jack!" Megan cried out. "She's the one getting the packages – I've seen her, she sneaks them away and opens them in private. And she can't even clean your boot properly, that proves it!"
 
Now, her suffering was much better than her ridiculous tits. She would rely on them often, obviously, and her husband was so dumb and unevolved that he would have it. Troy watched as her confidence was crushed, and how her torso struggled between the order he'd given her and the pain in her scalp. Suppose this would be another instance where he would have to educate a wife on how to be with her man. The Jack thought momentarily about whether a woman like this could be involved with the Florence Network at any capacity, given how poorly she was doing. At least the others had known something about pleasing men. That said, the increased pressure on his cock and the slickness that he had insisted on did feel better. He was doing what he always did for these incompetent bitches; lowering his expectations. Maybe the schools should be implementing a more strict educational plan, and mandatory refreshing courses. He should suggest that to the ministry of education and compliance, later.

Of course, everything in her stopped when she became more intimate with the knife. His jaw was set. His hand was steady despite his cock being full of blood and eager for more. He read every minute change in her features, barely beyond the prick of the knife's tip. She was bleeding but it was just the smallest scratch thanks to the perfectly maintained sharpness of the edge. Catherine had been the last to tend to his weapons, and she knew how to do that, at least. How many women had his secretary killed, indirectly? Would Megan become one of them? She did look as though any answers she might have were stuck in her throat. Troy knew the loss of an eye wouldn't be fatal, and he liked the look of any bleeding socket. He just had to decide whether it would help his cause, and if it didn't, if it would be worth the satisfaction.

Because he had to control the knife with such fine motions, he was aware of Sarah, too, and how her worship affected his steadiness. She hesitated at the muck between the lugs, and then when she vomited. Megan might feel how his cock swelled and twitched, excited, at that. He threw a quick look down and inhaled through his nose with arousal at having caused the woman to puke by eating shit. She'd come in with such a serious expression, too. He was about to do something with that, likely for his own amusement, but then both women exploded in to argument. His dark eyes darted from both of them. He let it go on, to see if their typical hysterics would yield any proof. It was a lot of accusation, but none of it was very damning. They were only saying things that had to be true about the real traitor, but nothing concrete, no smoking gun.

"Then prove yourselves." he said, cutting through their bickering. He pushed himself and the chair back to give either more space, dislodging himself from Megan's bust. This would finally give Megan reprieve from the knife. "Sarah, you have to clean up your mess." he said and flicked the knife at the puddle of half-digested food. "And Megan, you'll get your chance at my boot." he rolled the heel of the other boot, to promise there'd be another helping there, so both of them could get their own. "But that is not the first and foremost loyalty test for either of you." he stated and made a more general gesture with his hands. The one holding the knife was more eye-catching. "Both of you show your pussies. I think we all know there won't be a loyal fold in either of you." he said and crossed his arms, waiting. He always held out hope for someone getting wet from serving the state, but if women were that loyal, his work would be much easier. Maybe he was grateful they required such thorough and constant punishment.
 
Megan exhaled with relief when the Jack pushed back his chair, when the knife moved away from her face; Sarah, on the other hand, who had not been directly threatened by the knife, started to feel even more scared; she was all too aware of the mistake she had made in vomiting up after licking at his boot, and of the denunciation that Megan had made against her; the blade of the knife shone in the light, and her heart was pounding with utter terror. She began to lean down to lick up the vomit, even as Megan bent forward toward his boot, preparing herself for the sickening taste - but she was sure she could cope with it: she was prepared for it, unlike Sarah, and she was sure that she could manage to keep it down.

Megan was already bending forward, her massive tits dangling close to the floor, her tongue out ready to experience the taste of his boot, when both of them were suddenly pulled up short by a new order: to expose their pussies. Neither had any panties on: they were technically allowed to wear them while working at the supermarket, just as they were allowed to take off their heels and wear flat shoes instead, but "technically" was all it was. The people who ran their department had made it very clear that the men working in the supermarket were entitled to see - and, if they wanted, feel - a bare pussy at all times, and so it was easier for Megan and Sarah to go without panties than have to constantly deal with the disappointment and disapproval of their superiors when a hand up the skirt found fabric rather than a bare slit.

But that did not mean that either woman was comfortable exposing themselves to the Jack now. Like almost all women, they were aware of the supposed "loyalty test", but, also like almost all women, they found it an embarrassing myth - the idea that they could simply lubricate with sheer delight at serving the Nation Under Man was something that existed for them only in theory. Both of them rocked back onto their heels as they knelt there in front of him, and both of them lifted up their skirt with their thighs sufficiently parted to expose themselves to him. Sarah, as she was all too aware, was as dry as she could possibly be: the sheer disgust she had felt licking the sole of the Jack's boot, culminating in her vomiting up the shit that she had been forced to consume, was the antithesis of eroticism for her, and a horror came over her as she realized how this might work against her.

But even as Sarah lifted up her skirt, she couldn't resist a quick glance at Megan doing the same; and to her even greater horror she saw a slight glisten of moisture on her fellow-worker's slit. Megan was far from fully aroused herself, but the tit-job she had been giving brought the possibility of sex to the fore, and the pressure she had been applying to her boobs was not at all unpleasant; she had been lubricating even while doing it, and the fear of the knife had not changed that: she wasn't consciously turned on, but her body was responding even so. She too looked at Sarah's slit, and saw nothing; she breathed a little easier - even if she herself was not good enough for the Jack, Sarah was clearly doing worse than she was.
 
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He watched the usual tides of fear and realization wash over both their faces. Megan was more determined, and Sarah was more doubtful. He knew Megan led with her tits in everything, and that she obviously would suffer in other areas because of it, but it seemed licking shit and vomiting had done a number on Sarah's confidence. He found that he was excited to see what either would do, and how well they would do it. At least they were ready for it when they saw his boots as their next task. So far they'd done nothing to incriminate themselves. He was learning their weaknesses while enjoying their company, in a way any Jack or compliance officer would. Through their sexual misery.

Their fear at the very basic test of loyalty wasn't unusual. Unlike his very prepared Eva. He thought about his new secretary and how wet she'd been, when they lifted their skirts. Their feminine shapes funneled his eyes toward their cunts. There was a kind of kinship between them when they excused the fabric from their mere modesty. All cunts had to suffer being viewed by men, eventually, even if women were evolutionarily geared toward being shy about it. They hadn't learned by now, not in their flesh at least, that everything about them belonged to the strong men that could take it. He lifted his brow when they did their skirts. At least they could do this much without protesting.

He saw Sarah first, and wasn't surprised. But when they both looked at Megan, there was a loaded silence. His attention darted to Sarah's horrified face, and that pleased him. Women should be horrified when they were not inspired by the presence of the state's men. He licked his lower lip and nodded to Megan. He could well imagine how she had come to secrete like this, but he also thought it was point in her favor. She'd had more warmup, but not every woman could still produce dew in these circumstances. "Good Megan. You're loyal." he said and then turned to Sarah. A Jack's grave expression is quite the punishment on its own. "And Sarah, you disappoint me. Are you the traitor?" he asked. He waited for her to either blabber out something, freeze in fear, piss herself, or any combination. He lifted his boot carefully and touched it softly to the puddle of puke before balancing it back on its heel, serving it up for Sarah.

"Clean the floor. Then clean my boot. We'll see what happens after that." he then turned to Megan. "You, since you are such a good little patriot, I'll let you tell me all manner of things that you think are relevant about yourself, Sarah, and your workplace." But he of course tapped the head of his cock. He wouldn't let the moisture between her labia lips go to waste. Loyalty should be used. "While you ride me, of course." he was looking forward to seeing the physics of Megan's ridiculous breasts as she bounced on him, all the while her workmate would be refilling her stomach with her own waste, and the waste of some stranger that had shat in the dog park. The Jack was perfectly concentrated on either of their faces to see if they'd give anything else away while doing his bidding.

The fat cock was waiting to be inspired by Sarah's efforts, taking in whether she could resist another puking, but of course the fat limb was more exited about being inside the woman who's breasts had provided such lovely comfort up until now. How well would the married woman fuck, when her husband had been content with her breasts? He would be happy to put both these whores to the test, and admittedly, they'd both shown the potential to being entertaining in their misery. If both the Jack and the cock could pit them against each other, the truth might come out in the resulting fight.

If Megan did straddle him obediently, he would test how shallow or deep her pussy was by grabbing her hips and pushing her down hard. Her wetness would serve her well, as the long limb would be lodged as deep as it could go, finding her cervix with its cockhead. His eyes were on her face, to see how she'd react to her pussy being used as it should, instead of her breasts.
 
Megan felt the relief wash over her when he praised her for her loyalty, and even more when he turned his attention to Sarah and asked if she was the traitor. Sarah, on the other hand, was filled with terror: the expression on the Jack's face was horrific, and she saw the knife in his hand, the trace of blood on Megan's face, and she imagined it cutting into her, slicing her skin, into her body, and she felt sick. She was aware of a hot trickle down her inner thigh: in her terror her bladder had loosed – she tried to clench down, to hold herself back, but it coursed down her thigh to her knees and pooled on the floor, joining the patch of vomit that was already there.

She stammered "no – please no – I'm telling you, it's Megan, she's the traitor, not me!" and she looked at Megan's face and wailed "please, Jack, you have to believe me!". But the Jack simply placed his boot in the vomit, now covered with a further layer of piss, and ordered her to deal with it before anything else. Sarah bent down miserably and looked at it. She had to do it – this was the only chance she had to redeem herself in the Jack's eyes, and she couldn't afford to throw up a second time. She put her tongue in it, and almost retched immediately at the taste, but she managed to take the first morsel down without actually throwing up. She had to stop thinking about what she was doing, about what it was that she was licking and swallowing, and so she forced herself to focus her attention on what Megan was saying and doing, trying to turn her own actions into something mechanical, as if her tongue was acting by itself.

Megan listened as the Jack ordered her to provide the information, whatever information she had. She took a breath and was about to speak, when she saw him tap his cock. He wanted her to ride him.

She looked at the huge cock and gulped: she had never had anything that large inside her before, unless one counted giving birth – and to her frightened eyes this cock looked like it might even exceed a baby's head in girth. But she knew she had to do it; she stood up and took the cock, then put her leg over his lap, straddling him; then she lowered herself down, gritting her teeth with a "Nggghhh!". But before she had even gotten more than the head inside her, he had grabbed her hips and pulled her down, slamming her body lower until the head of the cock rammed up painfully against her cervix – she felt like she was being ripped apart. She cried out "AaahhhH!!", but the Jack was in front of her, staring at her, and she did have some lubrication, even if not enough to fill herself with this massive object.

With tears filling her eyes, she started to move her hips up and down, so as to ride the cock. It was intensely painful, but she was able to do it, though she grunted with pain every time the giant thing bottomed out inside her. But she kept enough presence of mind to do what he had ordered, to give him information as she rode up and down.

"Aaahh I Jack – Sarah gghhh she gets packages delivered gghhhaaa and she sneaks them off to open agghhh them about once a month aagghh ohhhhh and I don't know what she does gghhh with them but I gghh think it's books inside".

Sarah was listening to this with horror; she was still licking, she couldn't say anything, but she let out a whine of protest. Megan carried on riding the cock, moving faster now, her tits flopping up and down, as she carried on talking, shouting out the information with increasing urgency. "It's aaahh brown packages – boxes never seen the address where they come from but it's Sarah who gghh gets them!"
 
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