Previous chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four
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Brittany first met Callum when he contacted her out of the blue.
He had been randomly browsing the Female Documentation database, and had come across Brittany’s documentation. He had found her because he’d been searching for big-titted blondes whose results indicated they were strongly submissive, and he’d really enjoyed the footage of Brittany sucking the cock of her Female Registration and Compliance Officer.
He told her that she had looked very pretty when she had cried during the measurement and torture of her tits, and that he wanted to see her gorgeous fuckhole in person.
He didn’t phrase it as a question, and Brittany couldn’t work out how to say no, so she ended up meeting him for dinner. He quizzed her on such topics as whether she preferred to have cum in her mouth or in her cunt, and what things she had pushed into her pussy during her life, or whether she preferred to receive pain in her tits or her twat.
And then he took her back to a hotel room and fucked her.
Afterwards, while Brittany was lying on the bed, feeling his cum leaking from her cunt, Callum said, “Remember to fill in your post-intimacy report before this time tomorrow.”
Brittany didn’t pay a lot of attention to current events. The Female Documentation Process had been a surprise for her, and she had no idea what a “post-intimacy report” was, so she asked him.
“Are you stupid?” he asked her. “Any time a woman kisses someone, or touches a cock, or has someone touch their tits or pussy, they’re obliged to fill out a post-intimacy report and add it to their online documentation. Look it up online. The instructions have been designed for women to understand, so they’re very simple and clear.”
He took out his camera and snapped a photo of her – nude, ravished and cum-stained.
“I’ll send you a copy so you can use it in your report,” he said.
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Once she got home, Brittany looked up the requirements of post-intimacy reports.
As Callum had said, all women were required to submit one after any intimate encounter.
The report required her name and documentation ID number, to append it to her existing records. It also required a photo of her, taken as soon as possible after the intimacy. Callum had messaged her a copy of the nude photo he had taken of her, so she was able to use that.
The next field asked her to explain what she had done to cause the intimacy.
She didn’t understand this, so she looked up advice.
“Sex is always the woman’s fault,” explained the official guide. “Explain clearly what actions, behaviours and traits you are responsible for that caused your sexual partner to engage with you.”
She decided to fill in the field by saying that she had dressed attractively, had big tits, and looked pretty while sucking cock or crying.
Next it wanted her to describe the intimacy in detail.
She checked the guidance again.
“Tell the story of the intimate encounter in arousing detail,” it said. “When referring to any part of your body, be sure to add a degrading adjective. (To aid the understanding of women, adjectives are “descriptive words”.)”
“I undressed for Callum,” she wrote. “Then Callum pushed me to the bed and slapped my stupid face. He spread my whorish legs, grabbed my oversized tits in his hands, and then shoved his cock into my slutty pussy and fucked me hard until he ejaculated inside me.”
“Rate how pleasing you were on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the highest,” said the next field, “and describe what was the most disappointing aspect of your performance and what you can do to improve next time.”
She referred back to the guidance.
“Men have the option of also filing a post-intimacy report related to you,” said the guidance. “If you rate yourself higher than they do, you may be selected for disciplinary action designed to correct arrogance and bitchiness in females. However, very low ratings by either yourself or your partner may be grounds for corrective rape and re-training. Also, if your partner identifies a deficiency in you that you do not also report, you may likewise be referred for education about your failures. Improvements you suggest for yourself must be acted on. Failure to follow through on a suggested improvement is a criminal offence.”
Brittany didn’t know what to put. Callum had ejaculated inside her, so she couldn’t have been too disappointing. But on the other hand he hadn’t complimented, or stuck around after fucking her.
She entered a “5”. Then she changed her mind, and revised it to a “4”. But what if Callum thought that cumming inside a woman was only one step above being completely unsatisfactory? She changed her rating to a “3”, and then a “2”. But was “2” too low? Would it mark her for corrective rape?
She changed it back to a “3”, and left it there. She felt funny, rating herself only a 3 out of 10 for sexual satisfaction. She wished Callum had at least told her she was fun to fuck. Then she might have been confident giving herself a 4, or even a 5.
And what had been disappointing about her? Clearly something had been very disappointing, otherwise she wouldn’t only be a 3 out of 10. She tried to think of what she should have done differently.
She thought back over what Callum had said to her over the course of the night – and before that. And she remembered how he had said she was pretty when she was crying.
Of course! He had started the sex by slapping her across the face, but she hadn’t cried. He must have been so disappointed. He’d specifically said that was what he liked about her, and then she’d just been happy and horny, like a bitch.
“I should have encouraged Callum to hurt and degrade me more,” she wrote, “so he could see me cry, and fuck me while I was crying. Next time if a man thinks I am pretty while I am crying I will tell him to keep slapping me until he sees tears.”
The final question went, “Based on all of the above, what degrading name would you call yourself? Start with the words ‘I am’.”
The guidance for this read only, “Wrong answers may attract punishment.”
Brittany thought for a while, and then wrote, “I am a disappointing bitch.”
She submitted the report.
And immediately it was available on her Female Documentation for anyone in the world to read and view.
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She was pleased to see, later in the week, that Callum had submitted a report, where he rated her satisfaction as a “4” and identified the same weakness as Brittany – namely, her failure to cry.
On the same day, Brittany had her next reportable incident of intimacy. She was in the elevator at the office where she worked as a secretary, and her boss, Mr Hemms, entered the elevator with her. Between floors, he reached under her skirt and, before she could react, pushed two fingers past her lace panties and into her cunt.
She squeaked, and jumped, but he grabbed her hips and pulled her back as he fingerfucked her twat. Brittany blushed and held still, until the elevator reached their floor.
Her boss casually pulled his fingers out of her pussy, wiped them on her face, and then slapped her ass, propelling her out of the elevator.
“Don’t forget your post-intimacy report,” he reminded her. “You can do it at your desk.”
Brittany was forced to sit, blushing, at her desk, filling out a report on her boss molesting her.
She took a photo of her blushing face, and explained that she had caused the molestation to happen by wearing a short skirt, tight blouse, and attractive makeup. Her big tits probably played a role as well.
“Mr Hemms reached under my skirt and pushed two fingers into my dirty cunt,” she wrote, “which was wet. And he fingerfucked me for about thirty seconds, and then wiped my cunt slime off his fingers onto my stupid face.”
She rated her satisfaction as a “2”. Mr Hemms hadn’t criticised her, but he hadn’t really seemed to enjoy molesting her, and he hadn’t received any sexual satisfaction herself.
She racked her brain for what she could have done better.
“Wearing panties made it harder for Mr Hemms to get his fingers into my cunt,” she wrote, “so I should stop wearing panties to work. And I should have stroked Mr Hemms’ cock as he was molesting me, and thanked him when it was over.”
And finally, based on all of the above:
“I am a worthless cocktease.”
As it turned out, Mr Hemms also rated Brittany as a “2”, and noted her failure to thank him for his attention. He called her into his office the next day and said that because of her low satisfaction scores, she was being referred for further training in workplace harassment.
The training took about a week, and involved many trainers casually molesting Brittany’s tits, ass, and cunt. She was forced to stand still and act normal as people grabbed, pulled and punched her tits, grabbed her ass, and pushed fingers into her anus or fuckhole. She was taught to continue on with her work, sitting at a computer, as a man stood next to her and masturbated, eventually ejaculating over her hair and face.
This was supplemented by a course of hypnotherapy that helped her to become aroused by workplace sexual harassment, and feel complimented by men casually using her as an office sex-toy.
On her first day back in the office, she was once again in the lift with Mr Hemms. She had avoided panties, like a good girl, and so he wasted no time in pulling her skirt up to her waist and shoving three fingers into her twat.
“Good morning, you dumb cunt,” he said, and then pulled one of her tits out of her blouse for good measure.
Brittany giggled, and reached out and began to rub his cock through his pants. “Good morning, sir,” she breathed. “Thank you, sir.”
When the elevator stopped, Mr Hemms pulled away from her.
“Thank you, sir,” she said again. “May I pull my skirt down and put my boob away?”
But he didn’t respond – he just left the lift. And seeing as she hadn’t been given permission, Brittany left her skirt pulled up to her waist and her tit hanging out for the rest of the day.
She scored herself a 3, and said that next time she would remind herself that she was a disgusting slut so that she would feel more embarrassed and humiliated, which Mr Hemms clearly wanted.
Based on all of the above, she was – as Mr Hemms had told her – a dumb cunt.
Mr Hemms gave her a 4 in his own report – which Brittany took as an enormous compliment – and said that she should have pulled her skirt up and her tits out by herself without him having to force her.
Mr Hemms kept her back after work that day, and once everyone else had left, the inevitable happened – he ripped off her clothes, and slapped her, and bent her over his desk, and fucked her.
“You’re the fourth secretary to work for me in twelve months, Brittany,” he told her, as he raped her pussy. “Do you know what happened to all the others?”
“You fired them?” she guessed.
“No,” he said. “They got pregnant and left. There’s just something so arousing about seeing a pretty young thing abandoning her career and ruining her life to go off and be a breeder. I always promise to pay for their hospital stay if they send me a video of themselves naked, nine months pregnant and masturbating as they thank me for impregnating them. I’m going to have quite the collection.”
She moaned – partly because being raped felt good, but also because she knew that she was going to disappoint Mr Hemms. She would probably be rated a “1”. And because the manner of her disappointment was going to be a failure to get pregnant, she would probably be sent off for fertility treatments.
And she knew that when she thought about what she had done wrong, she was going to identify her birth control medication – and promise to stop taking it.
And do everything in her power to satisfy him next time, and the time after that, and after that, by falling pregnant and ruining her career and her life by carrying it to term, “like a good little breeder”.
She fucked him as hard as she could, and begged him to hurt her and call her names, in the hope of raising her inevitable “1” to a “2” or even a “3”.
But she didn’t get pregnant, so her satisfaction was, indeed, a “1”. And when she filled out her post-intimacy report she knew it was true when she called herself a “stupid babyless bitch”.
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