Joanne's downfall 4: The construction workers' bitch

Joanne's house is going to be renovated, but Charles's intervention promises to turn this into yet another series of humiliations for Joanne.

The next two days were a fragile relief for Joanne. Without messages from the blackmailer, she tried to compose herself, her body still aching from the previous nights – Eddie, Jurandir, Jevon, and those delinquents had left her exhausted, her vagina swollen, and her mind in tatters. She avoided mirrors, the reflection reminding her of how she had become a submissive whore, fucked by men she would never choose willingly. Harold called, excited: 'Honey, I hired a team of builders to renovate the house. It's going to be perfect for our home!' Joanne nodded distractedly, without imagining the nightmare that was to come.

Charles, in his dark apartment, watched the old videos, cock in hand, but decided to take a break. 'She must be destroyed after eight dicks in one night,' he murmured, laughing. But the more he watched the recordings, the more he wanted to make Joanne repeat it. When Charles overheard Harold, during a casual conversation at the bar, mentioning plans to renovate the house where Joanne lives and which would be the couple's home after the wedding – a modest but elegant mansion, a little outside the city, inherited from Joanne's parents – a perverse spark ignited in his mind. He offered to help Harold with it and manipulated everything behind the scenes: he contacted a construction agency known for hiring many immigrants and even ex-convicts, personally selecting ten bricklayers who seemed straight out of a nightmare. There were tattooed ex-convicts with a history of sexual violence, rude and sweaty Latino immigrants from distant slums, and also perverts he had fished out of obscure internet forums, men who paid to watch humiliation videos and now would have the chance to participate. 'You're going to renovate the house and fuck the rich lady,' Charles instructed anonymously, promising extra pay and total impunity.

Joanne, now recovered in her bed, at least physically, felt her stomach churn when her cell phone vibrated with a message from the anonymous blackmailer: 'Tomorrow the renovation of your house begins. A team of ten construction workers will arrive. You will obey ALL their orders, without exception. If you refuse or tell anyone, the videos of the orgy with the delinquents will go to your fiancé and your perfect family. Be a good little whore and maybe I won't leak anything.' She read and reread it, tears streaming down her face. The house – the place where she dreamed of building a life with Haroldo – would now be the scene of further degradation. The next day, Haroldo arrived by car, excited. 'It's going to be perfect, love. They'll be here in an hour.' He kissed her forehead, oblivious to the trembling in her hands. When the construction workers arrived—a noisy group of burly, sweaty men in tank tops and dirty jeans, with tools and hungry looks—they acted like impeccable professionals in front of Harold. They greeted him with firm handshakes, discussing blueprints and deadlines. “We’ll make everything brand new, sir,” said the boss, a bald ex-con named Marcos, with scars on his neck. Harold smiled, satisfied, and left for work, saying his fiancée would take care of everything and promising to return that night, without imagining who he was leaving his fiancée with.

As soon as Haroldo left and the door closed, the air changed. The men surrounded Joanne in the kitchen, where she was making coffee to mask her fear. 'So, boss, the boss said you're our special assistant,' Marcos growled, approaching with a lecherous smile, the smell of cigarettes and sweat permeating the air. 'Take off your clothes and start sucking my dick. Orders from the 'contractor.' Joanne froze, but the memory of the videos made her obey. Trembling, she pulled her dress over her head, revealing simple white lingerie – her ample breasts exposed when she unbuttoned her bra, her panties falling to the floor. Ten pairs of eyes devoured her: dicks already hardening in their cement-stained pants. 'Look at that rich pussy,' mocked a skinny immigrant named Luiz, with a thick accent, as he unzipped his pants. Joanne fell to her knees on the cold floor, the first cock – Marcos's, thick and veiny, stinking as if it hadn't been washed in days – forced into her mouth. She gagged, sucking reluctantly as he held her hair, fucking her throat with short thrusts. 'Suck properly, bitch. You're ours now.' The others took turns: a long, black cock from an ex-convict named John, which made her lick his hairy balls; another short but thick one from a blond pervert named Peter, who came quickly on her tongue, laughing as she swallowed the salty, bitter semen.

After the blowjobs, came the worst. They dragged her to the living room, where some men were already covering the furniture with tarps for the renovation, and threw her onto the sofa covered in plastic. Marcos was the first: he spread her legs, spat on her exposed pussy, and shoved his cock in all at once, fucking her hard. Joanne screamed, her nails digging into the fabric, as he pumped wildly, his sweaty belly slapping against her skin. 'Take that, you elite whore. Your skinny fiancé will never fuck you like this.' One by one, the others mounted her: Luiz turned her over on all fours, his thin but tireless cock hammering her ass, lubricated only with spit, while she cried out in humiliation. John took her from the side afterward, sucking on her breasts while he fucked her, biting her nipples lightly, which, even against her will, excited her. During the day, they meticulously took turns: two or three working on the walls, hammering, plastering, and installing wiring, while the others fucked Joanne in empty rooms. She was passed around like a toy – sucking a cock in the kitchen on the table while another penetrated her from behind, or lying on the floor, her pussy and ass alternated by cocks. And worse: while they drilled holes in the walls to install wiring, they installed tiny cameras and microphones hidden in corners, light fixtures, and even the ceiling of the master bedroom. 'Orders from the mysterious boss,' Peter explained with a laugh, testing a camera by forcing Joanne to masturbate in front of it, fingers shoved into her vagina wet with another man's semen. 'Now he sees everything, you slut. Even when you marry your cuckolded fiancé.'

The week was a rhythmic hell. Every morning, the construction workers arrived at seven, and Joanne greeted them naked at the back door, as ordered. They used her before breakfast: group blowjobs in the yard, where she swallowed semen mixed with coffee that they forced into her mouth, a fetish of one of the guys. During the day, there were breaks for sex – a group would take her to the basement under construction, where they tied her up with construction ropes and took turns with pairs, one cock in her mouth and another in her vagina, ejaculating inside without a condom, filling her until it overflowed down her thighs. Sometimes, three at the same time: one fucking her ass, another her vagina, and the third sucked by her, sweaty and smelly bodies on top of her slender frame. Extra humiliations came without warning: an immigrant named Carlos, with gang tattoos, made her crawl naked on all fours around the construction site, licking the dirty boots and feet of the construction workers after an intense day's work, before urinating in her mouth as a 'reward'. Another, a bald pervert named Vicente, recorded close-ups of her ravaged vagina on his cell phone, mocking: 'Look how wide open it got. Your husband will be swimming in there.'

Moments of terror almost broke her when Haroldo appeared. On Tuesday, he arrived unexpectedly at noon for lunch. Joanne was in the middle of sex in the bedroom: Roberto, a black and obese construction worker who stood out for his size – huge belly, very thick black cock – had her lying on the bed, legs spread, pumping hard, sweat dripping onto her breasts while she bit her lip to avoid moaning loudly. 'Quiet, whore,' Roberto whispered, his hand covering her mouth, his cock stretching her cunt to its limit. The sound of Haroldo greeting the construction workers at the entrance froze them. Roberto left through the back window, still naked, provoking laughter from the construction workers in the yard, leaving Joanne breathless, her cunt throbbing and wet with forced arousal. She ran to the bathroom, taking the clothes Roberto had forgotten and throwing them to him through the window before going in, wiping the semen that was running down her legs, quickly showering and getting dressed. 'Hi, love! What a nice surprise,' she said to Haroldo in the kitchen, her voice trembling, her face flushed as if she were hiding something. He hugged her, kissing her neck. 'You smell like... sweat? Is everything alright?' 'Just helping the construction workers, it's hot,' she lied, sitting down slowly so as not to hurt her ravaged ass. They had lunch, she forcing smiles while Roberto, already dressed, hammered away at the adjacent wall, his erection still hard under his trousers, discreetly winking at her.

Wednesday was worse. Harold came in the afternoon to inspect the progress. Two construction workers – John and Luiz – had cornered her in the bathroom of her room under renovation, one fucking her mouth while the other penetrated her from behind, his thin penis whipping her vagina. Muffled moans echoed when they heard footsteps. 'Shit, the cuckold!', John cursed, as there was no time to leave the room, the two naked construction workers, still with hard erections, hid in the large closet in her room. Joanne quickly composed herself, rinsing her mouth with tap water, semen stuck to her teeth, and washing her body. She stumbled out, finding Harold at the door of the room. 'Are they doing well?', he asked, adjusting his glasses. 'Yes, great,' she replied, her voice hoarse from an irritated throat, trying to lead him out of the room, but he gently pulled her to sit on his bed. She sat carefully so as not to expose the red marks on her buttocks and also to prevent semen from leaking from her vagina. They talked about paint colors, she laughing at his lame jokes while inwardly screaming, feeling Luiz's semen leaking into her panties, and looking at the closet where the two naked construction workers were still hiding. 'You seem exhausted, love. Do you want to go out to dinner tonight?' Her heart tightened – he agreed, telling her to go quickly, and he was confused by her haste, asking if she was going to leave the construction workers alone in the house, and she said they were good men and she trusted them, just to get him out of there as quickly as possible. As soon as they left, the other bricklayers entered the room, looking for John and Luiz, and found them inside the closet masturbating in Joanne's underwear until they came, saying that that cuckold ruined their fuck, while all the workers laughed.

At night, when the construction workers left – with rare exceptions – Joanne would collapse, crying in the shower, scrubbing her skin, trying to wash away the stench of sweat, cement, and semen. But on Thursday, Roberto decided to stay. He was the most persistent: massive body, dark skin glistening with sweat, a cock so thick it made her moan loudly. After the last round – where he fucked her against the kitchen wall, his belly crushing her back while he grunted, 'Take it, white whore' – he announced: 'I'm staying to sleep with you tonight. The "contractor" said I can.' Joanne pleaded silently, but obeyed. On the master bed in her room, he undressed her slowly, sucking her breasts, his rough tongue on her nipples. Then, he made her ride his cock slowly, his cock opening her pussy inch by inch, slow, deep thrusts and strokes that made her gasp with unwanted pleasure. He fucked her for hours: missionary style, with slobbery, smelly kisses; sideways, his hand squeezing her ass; on top, his heavy body immobilizing her while he came inside, filling her to overflowing. He slept beside her, his possessive arm around her waist, snores echoing like a true lover. Through the new cameras, Charles watched everything, cock in hand, furiously masturbating. 'Look at my Joanne, so demure and stuck-up, being used by this fat pig,' he murmured, coming on the sheet as he watched Roberto wake up in the middle of the night with a morning erection and fuck her mouth, cum dripping onto the pillow.

Friday brought another near-disaster. Harold called saying he'd be coming early. The construction workers, knowing this, sped up: four surrounded her in the yard, two cocks in her pussy and ass in double penetration, while she sucked the other two, her knees on the dirty grass. Moans escaped when the doorbell rang. 'Damn it, run!' shouted Marcos. They hid in the shed, leaving Joanne naked and covered in dirt and semen. She washed herself with the hose and put on a thin robe, running to the door. Harold entered, surprised by her disheveled state. 'What happened? You're... wet?' 'A light rain outside, love,' she lied, without thinking properly about what she said, hugging him to distract him while some naked construction workers were getting clothes and warming themselves in the yard right behind Harold. They spent the afternoon together: he helping to choose tiles, she sitting beside him, her aching pussy throbbing with every movement, feigning enthusiasm. 'I'm so happy with our house,' she said, her voice faltering, while Robert peered out the window, his cock hard again, rubbing his groin obscenely to tease her while Harold wasn't looking.

The week ended on Saturday. The construction workers finished the last details – painted walls, paved floors, and hidden cameras in every corner, impossible to spot for anyone who doesn't know where they are, including in the shower and bedrooms. Haroldo returned to inspect, praising the work. 'You guys were great. Payment on time.' He shook hands dirty with cement, hands that hours before had squeezed Joanne's breasts. 'Call us whenever you want, sir,' said Roberto with a knowing smile, winking at Joanne behind Haroldo. They left in a noisy van, leaving the house 'perfect' – and under surveillance.

That night, Joanne's cell phone vibrated with a flood of videos: close-ups of dicks going into her pussy, her gagging on blowjobs, her ass being ripped open by Luiz, the night with Roberto making her ride his dick. 'Looks like you had a "busy" week, little slut. Now I see everything.' Even when the cuckold fucks you after the wedding – if he manages to, haha. Obey or I'll leak everything to his friends.' Joanne cried in the room now infested with invisible eyes, knowing that the wedding was approaching, but her privacy was dead. Charles, on the other side, smiled: The recordings he would make in that house would be better than any porn