===
Tahlia hurriedly put her bra and blouse back on, and left the meeting room, burning with shame.
Back in her office, Tahlia found a blank notebook, and titled it on the inside cover, “Tahlia’s Listening Diary”. On the following page she filled in as many of the degrading and objectifying comments from the meeting as she could remember.
She didn’t understand things because she was a woman. She only had a degree because her teachers liked her tits. She was proof that BJX employed bimbos. Her tits were so huge she looked like a cow.
She stared at what she had written – and then slammed the notebook closed, and stuffed it into her purse. She didn’t like the idea of carrying it around – what if someone saw it, and read what she had written? – but she would need it close at hand to document anything else men wanted to say to her.
She thought about the rules that she was currently forcing herself to follow.
Tahlia’s Rules
- [NOT REMOVABLE] Never report or complain about sexual harassment. Never tell anyone about the Compelled Courtesy process who doesn’t already know about it. Never allow the process to be reversed or suggest that you’re not happy being subject to it.
- When a man shows you attention, compliment him and believe it.
- When you’re a bitch to a man, give them an apology explaining why you were wrong and they were right.
- When you reject male attention, offer a compromise.
- Listen carefully to harassment you receive, and keep a diary of it to study.
She could get rid of two rules by encouraging her harassment – getting someone to go over and above what they would have otherwise done to her – but she simply couldn’t face the idea of actively encouraging more objectification and humiliation today.
Instead she chose to sit in her office and hide.
It wasn’t the best way to do her job. Especially given that she was avoiding her email as well, afraid she would encounter some random harassment that might force her to respond.
She remembered Georgie’s comment that when she was out of the meeting she could go back to filing her nails and browsing the internet for shoes.
Well, that wasn’t such a bad idea, really. Just for today. Just until she came up with a plan for dealing with this awful Compelled Courtesy process. Her nails did need filing. And she did like shopping for shoes.
She did have one visitor – Ben Dundell. He was an engineer at the same level as her, on a different part of the project, at about the same level as her. A peer. He came in without knocking.
“Hey, Tahlia,” he said, “I heard that you got Georgie and Frankie to play ball on the environmental assessment. I just wanted to say well done.”
Tahlia blushed. “Thank you,” she said. And then she blushed a bit deeper, because she noticed that Ben’s eyes had, for a second, flicked down from her face to her chest. God, was every man in the world obsessed with her tits? It was a curse to be so buxom.
Only a couple of days ago, she might have said, “Hey, my eyes are up here,” and chastised him. That would cause her to make a new rule, though.
It was also an option to actively encourage him. She could ask him if he liked her tits. She could tell him it was okay to look. And then she could delete two rules.
She chose neither of these. She just let it happen, without comment. But he had showed her attention. She needed to compliment him.
“You’re really sweet,” she said. “You’re a good man.” And she immediately believed it.
Ben blushed too. “I just wondered because Georgie and Frankie can be… kind of dicks,” he asked her. “Were they well-behaved?”
They had not been. But she couldn’t complain about harassment.
“Oh, they were lovely,” she said, her conditioning feeding her words and giving her no choice whether to say them. “They gave me lots of good feedback.”
Ben furrowed his brow. “Really? I didn’t think they’d be good with a woman. Are you sure you don’t need a man to back you up next time? I can get Angus to sit with you next time.”
“God, no,” said Tahlia immediately. “I don’t need a man. I can handle it.”
And then she realised what she had done. Ben’s offer had been a kind of gender-based discrimination. He thought she needed help because she was a woman. And Tahlia had rejected it. Like a bitch. Ben was a good man, and Tahlia had been a bitch.
She needed to apologise.
She needed to offer a compromise.
And she needed to make a new rule.
The rule was easy. She had just been thinking about how men liked to look at her tits. She should make it easier for them. Nicer. She should dress to emphasise her tits.
How could she do that right now? That was easy. She had done it in the meeting. She unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse, exposing her cleavage.
Ben’s mouth dropped open slightly.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “That was a good suggestion, and I was kind of bitchy to reject it out of hand. Just like a woman, to let her emotions get the better of her, right? How about I consult with Angus before meetings, and promise to take his advice?”
Ben nodded. “That’s probably a good idea,” he said. He took another long look at Tahlia’s exposed cleavage, and then nodded. “All right,” he said. “Have a good night.”
When he left, Tahlia cursed herself. If she had just encouraged him to look at her tits as soon as he showed interest, she could have gotten rid of two rules. Instead she had picked up a new rule, and effectively encouraged his interest in her boobs anyway.
He had not said anything demeaning that needed to go in her new notebook. But she wondered if he was thinking it, as he walked away. Thinking that she was a slut. Thinking that her huge tits made her look like a cow.
===
When she got home that evening, Junko was already home (having driven the car), and Tahlia fell upon her with deep lust. They stripped, and kissed hungrily, and found their way to the bedroom, where Tahlia and her girlfriend entered a passionate 69, Tahlia riding Junko’s face as she pushed the beautiful lesbian’s legs apart and licked at her pussy. She orgasmed, and orgasmed again, letting out the tension of the day.
Of course she couldn’t tell Junko about any of it. Well, she could – she could say that she had encouraged Georgie and Frankie to stare at her bare tits, and that she had exposed her cleavage for Ben, and so on – but she couldn’t say anything to suggest that it wasn’t her idea or that any man had done anything wrong, and so of course she stayed silent.
Instead, she said, “I think this Compelled Courtesy process is really working. I’m getting on so much better with the men at work.”
“That’s great, babe,” said Junko. “I think we should go out and celebrate. Maybe the Pretty Kitty?”
Tahlia panicked. The Pretty Kitty was a nightclub. It only let in the sexiest of women, for the pleasure of its privileged male clientele. Junko and Tahlia went there despite the objectification, precisely to ogle the other beautiful women and fantasise about them. But Tahlia would almost certainly be sexually harassed there. After all, she had to pretend to be there for men – she couldn’t reveal that she and Junko were lesbians. And she would have to follow her rules.
“It’s been a long day, Junko,” she said. “Maybe we just rest?”
“But you’re excited about your success, right?” said Junko. “You want to celebrate the Compelled Courtesy thing?”
Tahlia wasn’t allowed to say no. She couldn’t suggest she was anything less than thrilled about the horrid hypnotic treatment.
And so allowed herself to be bullied into agreeing to go out to a nightclub.
The humiliation began as she began to dress for the evening. She needed to dress to emphasise her tits, so that men could look at her. And so she found herself selecting a dress she hadn’t worn in years. She had decided it was too slutty almost immediately after buying it. It was designed to be worn without a bra, and it hugged the full shape of her tits, showing every curve. Worse, while it was mostly opaque black, it was semi-sheer in the bust area, except for small black circles over her nipples, making it look like her tits were mostly exposed.
She pulled it on, blushing bright red.
When Junko saw her, she smiled. “Oh, wow, we’re going big tonight, are we?” she asked. “Let me match your energy.” And she dressed in a slinky black piece of clubwear consisting of thin red panels at the front and back, barely covering her bust, groin and ass, with thin red straps connecting it at the sides.
She looked like a prostitute. She looked like a fuckdoll.
But Tahlia could hardly complain.
They went to the club in an Uber, both sitting in the back seat. The driver looked at them in the rear view mirror.
“You ladies are looking real hot tonight,” he said. “You cruising for men?”
Junko looked at Tahlia sharply, expecting an explosion of feminist rage.
But Tahlia swallowed her anger, and instead said, “Thank you! But just having fun tonight.” And then a compliment, because he had showed interest. “If we were looking for men, we would have already found one, right?”
The driver laughed, and Junko laughed too.
Accepting harassment was easier.
And she believed what she said. If she had intended to fuck a man tonight, she would happily have fucked this taxi driver.
They got out near the club. The street was filled with people out for a night’s entertainment. There was a queue outside the Pretty Kitty, but the most attractive women were being waved through.
As they headed for the queue, a man in a suit jacket came up to them.
“Hey, honey,” he said. “How much for the full service tonight?”
She blinked, not understanding – and then she realised. The man thought she was a whore.
Because of how she was dressed. Because of her tits.
She struggled to know how to respond. She couldn’t accept this without contradicting him, or she’d end up negotiating how much he needed to pay to fuck her. She could maybe name a ridiculous price to scare him off – but what if he said yes anyway?
She had no choice.
“No, I’m not a sex worker,” she said. “I’m not for sale.”
But she needed to make a rule. And she needed to make a compromise.
It was her fault this man thought she was a whore. She had created that expectation. And everyone wanted to see her tits. She should make a compromise. She should… set a price on seeing her tits. And not too high – there was no need to be a bitch about it.
“But you can see my tits for twenty dollars,” she said to the man. “How does that sound?”
Twenty dollars. That was a good price. That was her rule. Men could look at her tits if they paid twenty dollars.
The man grinned. He reached into his pocket, and came out with a twenty dollar note. “Sounds good, sweetie,” he said.
And just like that, Tahlia found herself taking the money, and then pulling her tits out of her dress, right here on the street in public.
Her face was bright red. She didn’t want this. She hated it. But she couldn’t stop herself. She stood still, awkwardly, her tits bare, letting the man stare.
“What the hell, babe?” asked Junko, in amazement.
“Drink money,” said Tahlia. “What’s the harm, right?”
“God damn,” said the man. “Those are some fine milk tanks. You can see why I thought you were a whore, though, right?”
Tahlia accepted it.
“Yes,” she said. “I know I look like a whore.”
It had been long enough. She tucked her breasts away again. The man seemed satisfied.
“How much for the cunt?” he asked her.
She had already rejected him once – but rejecting him again would still require a compromise. She opened her mouth.
Junko saved her.
“That’s quite enough of that,” said Junko. “Come on, Tahlia, let’s get inside the club.”
Tahlia was filled with gratitude.
And as she walked toward the club, she couldn’t help but wonder what she would have charged the man to look at her pussy.
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