She hadn’t believed her friends. She regretted it now.
Tanya was a spoiled rich brat. She’d never had to work for her allowance. Most of her friends, though, worked as waitresses at a café/restaurant downtown.
They complained constantly of sexual harassment from male customers. Tanya, archly, told them to stop wiggling their tits in search of bigger tips and they’d stop getting harassed. It happened, she said, because they were sluts.
It led to arguments, and shouting. Finally, her friends offered her a dare – work a month at the café under what they called “double or nothing” rules, and if she still thought it was all their fault at the end they’d all publicly admit they were cockteasing sluts on social media.
Tanya agreed in the fiery heat of the moment, and they got their friend in third year psych to compel her compliance with the rules by hypnosis. If she lost the bet, she said, she’d keep the hypnotic compulsion AND pay her allowance to them each month in full.
The rules were these. She had to wear the cute café uniform and do the regular work of a waitress. If she got fired for any reason – particularly including arguing with a patron – she lost the bet.
The “double or nothing” part held the sting. She was not obliged to do anything to invite sexual harassment. But if a customer looked at her in a way that made her feel uncomfortable or objectified, on her next time out of public sight she had to squeeze her own tits with pressure equal to how objectified she felt. If a customer called her a demeaning name – anything from “sweety” to “cunt” – she would have to squeeze her tit *and* finger her cunt in proportion to the demeaningness of the name, while whispering “Call me Sweety” or “I am a cunt” to herself, to help her internalise it.
If she was *actually* groped, she had to lean into it and thank the customer. That wasn’t “double or nothing”, that was just basic common sense for avoiding customer complaints. And of course she could never, *never* complain about customer harassment to her boss or the police.
The hypnosis kept her honest, and as a result it seemed like she spent the entire first day mauling her tits and fingerfucking her cunt in the bathroom. Almost every guy’s gaze lingered on her tits and ass, and *no one* addressed her politely. “Baby” and “darling” were common, “sugartits” and “doll” were frequent, and more than once she had to smile at a customer as they called her “bitch” or “cumrag”.
By the end of the week she was horrified that the constant squeezing of her tits had started her lactating. Milk squirted from her boobs with every hypnosis-compelled tug and she tried to pretend she wasn’t leaking into her dress. The uniform bra was lace thin and by afternoon both it and the front of her dress had turned translucent from wet milk, giving customers a clear look at her nipples. Due to her compelled masturbation, her tits were flushed and her nipples were erect. Her panties had a constant damp patch on the crotch.
None of this made customers treat her more respectfully.
She was serving coffee to a group of men in an afternoon of the second week when she felt a finger slip under her panties and into her cunt. She froze, as the customer she was serving began openly fingerfucking her.
She opened her mouth to protest but instead said, “Thank you, sir.” She flushed. The finger felt good.
“Look,” said another man at the table. “The cow makes milk.” And in front of the whole restaurant he pulled her tits out of her dress and squeezed them. Milk squirted on the table.
This was too much for Tanya. The humiliation and stimulation combined into a powerful orgasm. Her pussy spasmed against the customer’s finger, and then she collapsed to the ground. She felt the laughing men pulling her panties off her as a trophy. There was the camera-shutter sound of someone taking a photograph.
And then, obediently, her hands went to her tits and cunt. She’d been objectified and called names. She needed to squeeze her udders and masturbate…
She remembered little after that. Next she knew it was end of shift and she was trying to explain herself to the manager in his office. A slowly dawning thought was filling her brain – if she was fired, she would lose the bet… and she would lose her ability both to avoid working a job like this, and also to be free of the hypnosis. Eyes filling with tears, she begged the manager for her job in the only way she knew would work. First she swallowed her pride… then she knelt, took his cock into her mouth, and swallowed his cum. He told her in no uncertain terms as he forced her face tight against his groin that this would be a daily duty for her now.
She kept her job. But of course it got worse now. Word spread about her loss of control. Many customers called her “cow”, including some of the women, and each time resulted in her blushing trip to the bathroom to finger-fuck herself, squeeze milk from her boobs, and whisper “I am a cow” to herself. It was a common game for clients to pull her fuckbags loose from her uniform to publicly milk them, or work their fingers between her legs and into her dripping gash. Always she would smile and thank them – at least, when she was able. Often she would just go silent, trembling with lust and need as she was publicly finger-raped, or orgasm loudly and sluttily. Each night she went home with the taste of her manager’s sperm in her mouth.
She made a mistake the first time a customer propositioned her after work. He asked her if she wanted to be fucked, and she, pussy soaked, breasts heavy with milk, and brain tired and stupid with lust, said yes. He fucked her right there in the alley behind the café, stripping her naked and pinning her against the dumpster. Afterwards he took her dress, laughingly promising to wash it for her and bring it to the café tomorrow, and she had to walk home nude.
The mistake was that word got around you could fuck her, and after that first customer, no one asked permission. They would be waiting by the café door after work, singly or in gangs, and they would all take a turn roughly ploughing her pussy… or ass, or mouth, or tits – whichever part of her was free. They would leave her naked in the dumpster, and she would smile and thank them, and then masturbate amongst the trash until she had processed all the names they called her.
By the end of the month she fantasised every night about winning the bet and escaping the horrible job. But on the last day her manager called her in and told her she was fired. She broke down in tears and asked why. “Officially, lewd behaviour and solicitation of sex on work premises,” her manager told her. “I’m thinking of reporting you to the police as well because I think it would suit you to have a criminal record for prostitution. But unofficially, your friends told me what happens if you’re fired and I think it’s funny.”
Tanya begged and begged, and let her manager fuck her three times in particularly degrading ways, but in the end she was still fired. As she lay there, she seized on a thought. The friend who hypnotised her was bisexual. Tanya wondered how many times she’d have to lick that friend’s pussy to get the hypnotism undone…
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