Richard Hastings watched as the chairs set out on the floor of the abandoned factory were filled. His expression was a stone mask, unmoving. He honestly didn’t know if it was stoic resignation or paralytic fear. This had once been his factory, now a rusted hulk. Many of the men out there owed their fortunes to his innovations. Now they prepared to spend their fortunes to own him.
Well, own what they made of him.
Richard had been a member of their Brotherhood. Had sat in on their councils, had backed their candidates and helped rigg elections.
But he had broken their trust and backed an opposition candidate.
When the finances were traced back to him, Richard’s death was faked while he was taken to an offshore clinic where they took his cock and balls, giving him a tight pussy before he was subjected to months of hormones and training to turn him into “Miss Rachel Fuckswell.”
Now Miss Fuckswell is watching the auction that will determine which office she will serve as sex-retary.
After her auction, she is taken to Richard’s business rival’s HQ. By day, she services the executives. When she is not taken home for prolonged use, she spends her nights in a Kennel Cage hidden inside the base of the executive boardroom table.