Chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four
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Tahlia and Junko were gorgeous women, and in any normal room they would have been the centre of attention in their slutty clubwear as soon as they walked in. But the standards in the Pretty Kitty were high. Any woman in attendance could easily have been a model, an actress or a porn star. In fact, the chance to stare at gorgeous women was precisely why Tahlia and Junko liked coming here.
Junko touched Tahlia’s arm, a light, flirty, casual gesture. “Go find us a beard, babe,” she said, “and I’ll get us a booth.”
Given that lesbianism was illegal, and that lesbians were subject to sexual inspection, registration, and forced counselling and conversion therapy, there were, naturally, no open lesbian bars in the city.
But the Pretty Kitty was the next best thing. Its female clientele were overwhelmingly lesbian or bisexual, desperate to meet other queer women without being identified by the state. And its male clientele were largely men with a fetish for watching – or fucking – lesbians.
Just last week, Junko and Tahlia had received a link to the Lesbian Registration Page for their friend Helen, who had been formally outed as a dyke by her brother, and taken into state custody as a result. When they had visited Helen’s registration page, they had found a gallery of photographs depicting Helen’s nude body in various poses, along with a video of a nude, naked, crying Helen masturbating as she apologised for being a “disgusting lesbian slut” – followed by a video of her being violently fucked in the cunt by one anonymous man as she simultaneously sucked the dick of another.
It had been disgusting – but they had both guilty masturbated to orgasm on the couch while watching it play on their large TV. The cocks were gross, of course, but Helen was really hot, with a supermodel face and absolutely top-tier tits, and it turned out she was even hotter when she was crying.
But despite lesbianism exclusively between two women being illegal, it was entirely acceptable – and even encouraged – for women to engage in sexual activity with each other for the pleasure of men.
So bars like the Pretty Kitty formed an important outlet for lesbians. Two girls alone was bad, but two girls plus a man was good. You just had to find a reasonably acceptable man at the bar to be your “beard”, and invite him to your table, and then you could kiss and grope each other and ogle the other women as much as you wanted, while the man took his sexual pleasure from watching you.
You had to play it safe, of course. You wanted a reasonably nice-looking man – someone who looked safe – and you needed to have an exit plan afterwards. If you got raped after cockteasing a man all night, no police would investigate and no court would prosecute.
And so tonight it was Tahlia’s job to find a beard.
She surveyed the men at the bar, trying to pick someone who looked trustworthy, and it didn’t take long to pick out one she thought might be good. He had a sort of non-threatening masculinity about him, in dress pants and a button-up white shirt, his hair short and cutely tousled.
And she needed a nice guy, because she was going to go a fair bit further than she normally did.
She walked up to the bar and stood next to him, and then turned to give him her full attention – and the best view of her tits beneath her semi-transparent dress. She did her best to give him a sexy, submissive, flirty look.
“Hey, handsome,” she said.
“Hey, you,” he replied. He took a sip from his glass of bourbon and looked her up and down, making no attempt to conceal that his gaze was running over her large tits.
She had to go further than he would go by himself. She had to encourage him to harass and objectify her more than he would otherwise. If she did that, she could discard two of her rules – and she needed to do that, to survive the night.
“Do you like my fuckmelons?” she asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet to make her tits jiggle.
He smiled. “They’re pretty great,” he said.
“Thanks,” she said, driven to thank a man for any compliment and return it. “You’re pretty sexy yourself.”
And she immediately knew she had made a mistake, because part of her mind now believed that he was sexy. A confused part, unsure of how to reconcile that opinion with her lesbianism.
But she pushed onwards.
“How would you like to come and sit with me and my slut girlfriend?” Tahlia asked. She couldn’t help blushing as she said this. The words were offensive to her – but it was all for a good cause. “You can watch us behave like slutty pretend-lesbians and treat us like your personal porn-dolls.”
He laughed, now. “You like being treated like a slut?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said, smiling. “I love it.”
And there it was. Her mind recognised this as meeting her conditions – and she felt the sudden ability to discard two of her rules.
It was easy.
She got rid of the rule requiring her to offer men a compromise when she disagreed with them, and the rule requiring her to apologise when she was a bitch.
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.
Listen carefully to harassment you receive, and keep a diary of it to study.
Dress to emphasise your tits (including exposing more cleavage).
Men can see your tits for twenty dollars.
There. That was manageable. And she just had to avoid rejecting any harassment for the rest of the night. She could do that, surely.
“I’m York,” said the man. “I work in publishing.”
He was still staring at her tits.
“I’m Tahlia,” said Tahlia. “And my girlfriend is Junko.”
And then she heard herself saying, “You know, if you have twenty dollars, you can get a better look at my tits.”
Her eyes went wide as she said it. God, he would think she was a whore. How might he behave then?
But what he said made it even worse. His eyes were eager, and there was a playful smile on his lips. “See your tits – or see them while you kiss your girlfriend?”
Would saying no cause her to make up a rule? She could instinctively feel that it would.
Still, she could say no. And then she could keep saying no to York for the rest of the night if she needed to. It might be a good investment. But it would mean immediately giving up half the benefit she had won for leading him on.
So instead she said, “Sure!”, and laughed. And then said, “I don’t know if my girlfriend will agree, though.”
“I bet she will if you give her this,” said York. And he extended a hand.
In his palm was a tiny pill, in the shape of a star.
Tahlia gasped. She knew what this was, even if she had never seen it. Starlight – the new date rape drug.
It was fast acting, and practically flavourless. It would send a girl’s sex drive wild, while at the same time making her stupid and suggestible. Worse still, it was said to counteract birth control and promote temporary fertility, increasing the chances of impregnation. And it hampered the formation of memories, so victims would rarely remember what they had done, or who had drugged them.
It wasn’t cheap. A single dose could go for upwards of a thousand dollars. But it was a small price for some men to pay to have sex with any woman they could successfully drug.
York wanted her to feed this drug to Junko and then make Junko expose her tits for him to look at.
Tahlia absolutely should say no at this point. What York was proposing was illegal and dangerous and a huge betrayal of her girlfriend.
But she was very reluctant to take on another rule.
And another thought had occurred to her. Tahlia had been through so much humiliation as a result of “Compelled Courtesy”. She had been forced to show her tits to Georgie and Frankie, and then to the man on the street. And she was doing it all so that she could be with Junko.
Shouldn’t Junko do her part as well? Was it so bad for Junko to have to show her tits to a man as well – especially if she wouldn’t even remember it?
“Okay,” she said, her voice faltering a little. “Sounds fun.”
She took the pill from him. Then she ordered drinks from the bar for herself and Junko – and when Junko’s arrived, she dropped the pill into it.
“Good girl,” said the man – and Tahlia hated that a small part of her found pleasure in the praise.
He then passed her two twenty-dollar bills. “For you – and your girlfriend,” he said.
Tahlia tucked them into her purse, blushing.
They left the bar and headed towards the booths. Tahlia could spot Junko already – she had found a nice corner booth for them.
Halfway there, an anonymous hand reached out and squeezed Tahlia’s ass.
“Fuck!” she squealed. “Fuck off!” She jumped as she said it, pulling away from the hand, and her drink spilled a little, sticky alcohol-and-soda splashing over her tits.
She turned to see who had groped her, but couldn’t see anyone…
… but her brain was registering that she had just told someone not to sexually harass her.
God, how could she have been so stupid as to let her first reaction be bitchy like that? She was trying to be courteous to men, for fuck’s sake. And then she went and acted like this.
She knew why it had happened. It had happened because she was surprised. Because it was unfamiliar. Because she wasn’t used to feeling a man’s hand on her ass. She wasn’t used to touching men, or being touched by them, full stop.
She needed practice. She needed to get used to being physically intimate with men.
When she was around men, she should touch them. Affectionately.
It clicked into place as a rule.
Tahlia and York reached the booth.
“About time,” said Junko. “Who have you found for us?”
Tahlia went to sit down – but York was faster. He slid into the booth, sidling up to Junko, and Tahlia had no choice but to sit on his other side, so that York was between the two girls.
“This is York,” Tahlia said awkwardly. “York, Junko.”
She placed Junko’s spiked drink on the table in front of her, trying to act like it was a normal drink that didn’t contain a date rape drug.
“Hi,” said York, facing towards Junko. “I understand you two sluts are going to lez off for me.”
Junko’s face scrunched up, and she tried to pull away from York – but she was already at the edge of the booth seat.
“What the fuck, Tahlia?” she complained. “’Lez off’? Where did you find this sleaze?”
Tahlia laughed, nervously. “He’s just joking, Junko,” she said. “He’s nice, really.”
She sipped some of her drink – and, prompted by seeing someone else drink, Junko lifted her own glass and took a swig.
Tahlia felt something twist inside her. It was real. Junko had taken the spiked drink. Tahlia had just roofied her own girlfriend. She wondered how long it would take to have effect.
But even as she processed that anxiety, her body was following her new rule. She felt herself place her hand on York’s leg, and begin to stroke it gently, seductively.
York was leering at Junko still. “You’re really very pretty, for a lesbian,” he told her. “You have excellent tits.”
“Listen, guy,” said Junko, flexing her shoulders to try and push him away. “I don’t know how you think this works, but you’re just a beard, okay? Your role begins and ends with sitting here and watching. I’m going to kiss Tahlia, and you’re going to keep your mouth shut and your hands to yourself.”
“Sure,” said York. “I get it. Why don’t you go ahead?”
Junko narrowed her eyes. Tahlia was separated from her by York’s body. “You’re going to have to move…” she began to say.
But Tahlia didn’t wait for her to finish. She leaned across York and kissed Junko on the lips.
In order to lean across, she had to put her hands in York’s lap to support herself. Her hand on his leg provided the first support – and her other hand came down on his groin.
She felt it instantly through his pants – the firm, erect shape of his cock, warm even through the fabric of his trousers, pressing against the palm of her hand.
Her instinct was to pull her hand away, but she didn’t want to draw Junko’s attention to it. So she just left it there, and enjoyed kissing her girlfriend.
It was a long, slow, passionate kiss. Junko had often told Tahlia that she was a good kisser, and Junko responded eagerly to Tahlia’s lips despite her dissatisfaction with York.
She felt York’s cock flex in her hand she kissed her girlfriend. Almost without meaning too, she curled her hand, gripping his dick through the fabric, squeezing it.
And when the kiss was over, and she pulled away from Junko, something made her leave her hand there, resting lightly on his erect dick.
One of York’s hands came down beneath the table and rested on top of hers, trapping it there, against his cock. It would only take the lightest of effort for Tahlia to resist, and remove her hand – but she realised that doing so would constitute rejecting his harassment, and she would be obliged to make a new rule.
She allowed him to hold her hand against his cock.
“That was hot,” said York. “Don’t stop there.”
Tahlia took another long sip from her drink, and Junko did too. Then Tahlia leaned forward, and they kissed again, Tahlia squeezing York’s cock as she slid her tongue into Junko’s mouth.
Someone whistled, loudly. Tahlia broke off the kiss and looked towards the bar, where she saw an overweight man avidly watching. When Tahlia looked up, he called out, “How about I come over there and put a cock between those lips, ladies?”
Junko sighed, and looked at Tahlia, and said, “Tell him to fuck off, baby.”
Tahlia’s mouth moved, without words coming out. Why did she have to do it? Why couldn’t Junko tell him? But she knew what this was. This was payback for Tahlia flashing her tits on the street, and punishment for York’s lewd comments. Junko was telling Tahlia to act the way she normally would – and normally, Tahlia would absolutely tell a guy like this to fuck off.
And that was what she was going to have to do. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and then turned to the guy.
“Go fuck yourself, creep,” she said.
It was enough to send the guy on his way – but the consequences for Tahlia were immediate.
Another rule.
Her problem was that suggestions like the one the man had made were revolting to her. If they didn’t disgust her so much, she wouldn’t need to be such a bitch about them.
What she should do was masturbate to them. Whenever she received a sexual proposition that she didn’t accept, she should find a time in the next 24 hours to masturbate to orgasm while thinking about it. That would help her.
Click. Another rule.
And she was right back where she had been before teasing York.
And some time before this time tomorrow night, she would need to masturbate to orgasm while thinking about kissing Junko around the shape of a man’s erect cock.
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