The ConsentBook service was supposed to simplify sexual consent. It let a girl create an account, and specify the terms under which she consented to sex. She could say, “Never, except by explicit discussion in advance”, through to, “If I’ve kissed you, you can feel me up, until I tell you to stop”, or “Do anything you want with me, but only if you’re a girl, and stop when I safeword.” The terms were legally enforceable, and information provided was required by law to be true. To verify their identity, girls needed only upload a photo that showed their breasts and pussy.
The service was a great boon to shy girls who wanted sex but were too nervous to ask for it. It was more of a curse, though, to silly schoolgirl teenagers who did stupid things on a dare. Tawnee and Jordan, for example, should have known better than to pose nude for the cute boy at the pool party, but they were drunk and wild and he promised it was only for his own enjoyment.
He did enjoy it – by creating accounts for both girls on ConsentBook, and uploading the photo to establish his authority to do so. He indicated that each girl consented to sex with anyone, at any time, even if they said no, and added that they found it extra hot when they were crying or humiliated.
Tawnee was raped three times in the first 24 hours – twice by school friends and once by a stranger – while Jordan was taken twice, by fellow employees at her after-hours job. Tawnee didn’t want to go to the police – partly out of shame, but partly because she had actually embarrassingly enjoyed the experience of being fucked without choice in the matter – but Jordan convinced her that she should.
The police were unsympathetic. “It’s all here on ConsentBook,” the sergeant said. “Full consent. There’s no crime. In fact, I think I might have a turn with both of you before we let you go. But there’s a little matter here that your accounts say that you’re lesbians in a committed relationship who just happen to like cock as well.”
“What?” protested Jordan. “No, we’re not gay! We’re just friends!”
The sergeant’s face darkened. “It’s an offence to lie on ConsentBook, young miss. If it turns out you’re not licking each other’s cunts, you could go to jail.”
Jordan paled. “Uh… no, sorry,” she said, “I guess we are girlfriends.”
“Cuntlicking lesbian whore girlfriends,” corrected the sergeant, and looked at Tawnee. “Do you agree, young lady?”
Tawnee blushed. “Yes, sir, we are cuntlicking lesbian whore girlfriends,” she mumbled.
“Glad to hear it,” said the sergeant. “But under the circumstances, before we move on to raping you, I think you’d better demonstrate just how committed you are to cuntlicking. Go on – put on a show.”
Jordan was ghost-white with horror and shame, paralyzed by what she was being asked to do. But Tawnee was looking at her friend, and thinking that Jordan *was* very pretty, and that if Jordan didn’t want her own cunt licked, that Tawnee would quite like her own pussy moistened by a cute slut’s tongue before the sergeant’s cock got around to violating it…
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