From the moment Kathy stepped into the main room of the open-plan office, she knew that her career at this particular workplace was over.
No one would ever be able to forget the sight of her, bare-titted, bare-cunted, gagged and handcuffed, with cum trickling from her fuckhole. These people would never respect her again, even if she did manage to escape enslavement to the spiral.
She watched her co-workers - some of whom she had worked with for years - mentally reclassify her from "person" to "fuckpig", and blushed, and wished her cunt wasn't so traitorously wet.
Her father's voice spoke briefly in her earbuds, in a cold, dismissive tone. "I don't have a daughter. I have a cunt." And she flinched, because she knew it was true.
"Kathy! God! Get in my office, now!" The voice of her boss barked out across the room. Richard Salk was a large man, barrel-chested, bald on top but with a thick beard - a man used to getting his own way and putting up with no nonsense. He had a wife and children, who Kathy had met - but he'd made no secret of appreciating the sight of a pretty young employee like Kathy.
Kathy squeaked, and ran across the office to Mr Salk's office. He shut the door behind her as she entered, gifting her with a blessed level of relative privacy.
"What the fuck is this, Kathy?" he asked her, staring at her exposed body. "First you send me nude photos, then you turn up to work like this?"
Kathy had a dildo gag in her mouth. She could say nothing.
"If you wanted to fuck me, Kathy, you only had to ask," her boss said. "This is a little extreme, don't you think?"
Kathy still couldn't speak.
Mr Salk smiled. "Still," he said. "I like it." He reached out and fondled Kathy's left tit. It felt good, and she once again moaned involuntarily.
But she realised she had to ask him something. She needed time off for her breast surgery - and she also needed a chance to go back into the spiral before that happened.
"Mmf," she said, through her gag. "Mmmmf mmf."
Mr Salk laughed. "What's that, Kathy?" he asked, in the tone he might use for an intelligent dog. "Got something to say?"
"Mmmmf!" said Kathy.
"Come over here," said her boss, pulling her by her nipple towards his desk. He opened up an empty document on his computer, and pushed her towards the keyboard. "Why don't you type what you want to say?"
Her hands were still cuffed. She looked at him in confusion.
"Well, if you can't use your hands, use your tits, Kathy," he said, and laughed.
Her face twisted in humiliation - but men knew best. She bent forward at the waist, and pressed her breasts against the keyboard.
Of course, she only produced a gibberish mess of letters. She mashed her tits against the keys again, producing even more.
Meanwhile, her boss was inspecting her cunt, exposed by her position leaning forward. "Is that cum, Kathy?" he asked. "What kind of slut are you?"
She couldn't answer. She was gagged. She banged her tits against the keyboard some more.
Mr Salk took a packet of wet wipes from a desk drawer, withdrew a pair of wipes from it, and began to use them to clean her pussy. Kathy orgasmed almost immediately at the touch of the soft, wet fabric against her cunt. Her knees went weak and she almost fell. She pushed her breasts against the keyboard, and let her boss clean the anonymous man's sperm away.
However, rather than throwing the wet wipes out, he then pressed them into her anus, as though she were a bin. She could feel the sperm-and-cunt-juice soaked material hanging from her asshole.
Mr Salk looked at the gibberish Kathy had produced on the screen with her tits. "You never were much of a typist, Kathy," he sighed. "Let's try something else."
He picked up a pen from the desk, and a bulldog clip. He used the bulldog clip to attach the pen to Kathy's left nipple - procuring a muffled squeal through Kathy's gag - and then did the same with another pen and a clip on Kathy's right nipple. He moved her along the desk, until she was in front of a pad of white paper.
"Try writing your message here," he said.
Kathy whimpered, and leaned forward. She found she could indeed make marks on the paper with the pens clipped to her tits - but not legible ones. She couldn't make a straight line with the arrangement her boss had created - and, in addition, the process of trying to press the pens against the paper or drag them across the surface caused agonising pain in her nipples. She made muffled noises of pain and degradation.
Mr Salk didn't care. As Kathy leaned forward to make her pathetic breast-scribbles, he unzipped his fly, took out his cock, and pushed it into Kathy's freshly-cleaned cunt.
Kathy could no longer concentrate on anything but the static in her ears and the pleasure of being fucked. She moaned and bucked against her boss' cock, her pen-equipped tits leaving meaningless scribbles on the paper. The spiral told her this was good. Her father's voice told her this was all she was good for. Mitch's voice told her she was a barely adequate fuck, and she should be grateful anyone wanted to rape her. Her uncle's voice told her that her whole life had just been training to be a good cocksleeve.
When Mr Salk came inside her, it felt amazing. She felt him pull out, and then put his hands on her shoulders and push her down to her knees. Her mouth was still gagged, so he used her hair to clean the cum and juices off his cock. Then he pulled her back to her feet, took the pen on her left tit into his hand - with it still attached to her breast - and wrote on the paper she had been scribbling on.
Each forceful penstroke tugged painfully on her breast. She watched him write at the top of the paper, "FORMAL REQUEST TO BE DEMOTED TO OFFICE WHORE", and at the bottom he wrote her name. In between was the nonsense scrawl her breasts had created as she was raped.
"Climb up on the desk, squat over the paper, and sign it, Kathy," Mr Salk said, grinning. At first Kathy didn't understand - but then she did. Blushing, she climbed on the desk as she was bidden, and let Mr Salk's cum ooze out of her cunt, dripping down onto the paper, creating a sticky stain.
"I'll have that framed and placed where everyone can see it," said Mr Salk. "Unless you have any objections?"
Kathy was gagged, so she couldn't speak - but she wouldn't have anyway. She liked being a sex object. The spiral told her it was true, so it must be true. And anyway, men knew best.
But she still had to ask for permission to get her breast surgery.
"Mmmf!" she said again.
"Still have something to say?" asked Mr Salk. "Well, you can't type, and you can't write with your tits. We'll have to think of something else."
It took him a few minutes to create his "something else". The core of the contraption was a thick black permanent marker. He had created a grip around the handle, near the tip, using sticky tape, and this was attached to elastic bands, which themselves were attached to bulldog clips.
He showed Kathy how it worked as he attached it to her. The butt of the market went up her pussy, with the tip sticking out. The bulldog clips went on her labia - which made Kathy scream into her gag. The elastic would stop the marker either fully vanishing up her pussy, or falling out of it, while giving it a fair amount of flexibility.
