Story: Compelled Courtesy, Part 8

Chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven

===

The man’s name turned out to be Sam Osborne, and Tahlia knew it was foolish going back to his apartment with him when she had just invited him to imagine raping her. But the conditioning was relentless. It needed her to get a supply of male cum before the day was out, and if she didn’t do it now she would end up propositioning one of her work colleagues.

She was unable to cover her breasts as she walked the block to his home, because he hadn’t given her permission to change her clothing. She rode the elevator up with Sam and his dog with her boobs hanging out.

She considered her rules as the elevator rose.

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.
• Dress to emphasise your tits (including exposing more cleavage).
• When you’re with men, touch them intimately and affectionately.
• When you reject a harassment, within 24 hours you must masturbate to orgasm while imagining it.
• Never disagree with a man about how to dress or wear your clothes.
• Practice oral deepthroating until you are familiar with the feel and taste, and until you suppress your gag reflex.
• Twice a day, deliberately make a bad decision that prevents you from avoiding the consequences of your conditioning.

She felt her body moving to snuggle intimately up against Sam’s side as the elevator rose.

“Is it alright to… keep calling you names?” said Sam.

Her rules didn’t require her to say yes. But saying no would be avoiding harassment. It would be a rejection, and she would get a new rule.

“Yes,” she said. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks, cunt,” said Sam. “God, it feels weirdly good to call you that. I’d never call a woman that normally. I guess it’s hot because it’s taboo? You’re such a whorish rape-bait fucktoy.”

Tahlia shivered. She didn’t like him mentioning rape. She didn’t want him to get ideas. And she knew that everything she was doing was giving him those ideas. If it happened, it would be her own fault.

“Thank you,” was all she said.

The elevator doors opened, and Sam let her into his apartment. The dog immediately bounded away from him and settled itself on a dog bed in one corner of what was clearly a poorly-cleaned bachelor pad.

“So what,” said Sam, “your friend dared you to… show me your tits, and tell me to call you names, and then… give me a handjob?”

“To come back with some cum,” said Tahlia. “That was the dare.” She was glad her rules didn’t prevent her from lying.

“That’s hot,” said Sam. “God, you are such a slut. You know, it would be hotter if you took off the rest of your clothes.”

It wasn’t a command. Tahlia didn’t have to do it. But she also couldn’t disagree with him.

“It would be,” she said.

He smiled. “So take them off, then, you fucking braindead whore.”

Now it was a command. Blushing, unhappy, Tahlia started to strip.

No man had seen Tahlia’s cunt since puberty, other than her gynaecologist. Now she was showing it to this man she had only just met.

He was staring at her cunt. He was showing her attention. She had already complimented him once, but this felt new, and different. Her rules wanted her to compliment him again.

“I like it when you look at me like that,” she said.

And suddenly, she did like it. She liked having Sam stare at her like she was an object, a fuckdoll, a piece of meat. It made her cunt wet. She made an involuntary low moan of lust.

Sam was taking off his own clothes. He was fairly fit, with clearly defined abs – and, it turned out, a surprisingly large cock, which was fully erect.

“What’s your name?” he asked her as he stripped.

Tahlia didn’t have to tell the truth. “Candy,” she said.

“You have huge fucking tits, Candy,” he said. “You look like a cow.”

Tahlia looked at his dick. “Do you have, like, a condom?” she asked.

Sam looked surprised. “I thought this was just a handjob,” he said.

“It is!” said Tahlia quickly. “But I need something to catch the cum.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Sam. He got his wallet out of his pants, extracted a condom, and rolled it down over his dick. “There you go, you filthy fucking skank.”

Tahlia knelt in front of Sam, and took his cock in one hand, and began to pump it, aiming it at her face. She almost regretted the condom – the feel of warm skin against her palm when she had masturbated York had felt nicer than the impersonal plastic of the prophylactic.

“God, you’re such a sexy fucking bimbo,” Sam moaned. “That feels so good. Keep going, bitch. This is all you’re fucking good for. You dumb slut.”

She stared at his cock and suddenly realised that she was a dumb slut. She could have just given him a blowjob, and that would have counted towards her practice. Why hadn’t she done that?

It took her a moment to remember why. Because she was a lesbian. Because she didn’t want to suck men’s cocks. A handjob was less slutty than a blowjob. How could she have forgotten that, even for a moment?

Except right now the handjob didn’t exactly feel chaste. She was completely nude, kneeling, in front of a man she didn’t know, pointing his dick at her face as she jerked him off, and not only allowing him to call her disgusting degrading names, but actually encouraging it?

And she did need to suck a real cock. Otherwise she’d never know if she had really suppressed her gag reflex. A dildo was good, but it couldn’t replace a real dick.

And this was the best time to suck a dick, because there was a condom on it. His actual cock would never touch the inside of her mouth.

She would never know if what she did next was her own decision, or a product of her rules’ insistence on deepthroat practice.

She leaned forward, parted her lips, and took Sam’s dick into her mouth.

He moaned with pleasure as she began to fellate him.

“Oh, you brainless dick-sucking sex-pig,” he gasped. “You’re such a sub-human cockholster. Fuck.”

She began to bob her head up and down on his dick – but she must not have been doing it quite right (which was unsurprising given her lack of practice) because Sam grabbed her hair in his hands, and began to physically force her face up and down on his penis.

She felt the tip of the condom bump the back of her throat, and she summoned all her focus to suppress the gag reflex and let it happen.

“Whore-titted fuckpuppet,” Sam groaned as he facefucked her. “You’re a fucking human toilet. You’re an animal. You’re a fucking sex-object. Worthless fucking bitch.”

And despite everything, Tahlia realised that her cunt was wet.

She reached down and began to masturbate. It could hardly make Sam think any less of her. And she realised she could fulfil some other obligations if she played with herself. She had rejected Evan at her apartment. If she masturbated now, while imagining the things she had thought were going to happen with Evan – flirting with him, showing him her tits, complimenting him….

“Cow,” Sam spat as he raped her face. “Empty-headed little suck-slut. Disgusting female garbage.”

And every insult seemed to make her cunt throb harder.

And then suddenly Sam pulled her close, until her nose was squashed against his belly, and he held her there, his body shaking.

He was cumming. He was cumming into the condom, inside her mouth.

Part of Tahlia was disappointed that she wasn’t tasting his cum. Part of her was horrified at the very idea that a man was – for the second time in 24 hours – ejaculating inside her body.

But most of her was focused on the orgasm that she was suddenly having.

After a few moments, Sam released her, and pulled out of her mouth. He pulled the condom off his dick, its tip ballooned with milky white fluid, and he tied it closed and passed it to her.

Without thinking, Tahlia leaned forward and took his naked dick back into her mouth, sucking the remaining cum off it. She felt her body react to the taste with delight. Was that her? Or the effect of the rule? She didn’t even know.

Sam gasped with pleasure as she sucked him clean, and sighed with disappointment when she finally released his dick.

“That was so good, cunt,” he said. “Thank you. Maybe I’ll see you some other time?”

That was a dismissal – but Tahlia had a problem.

“Can I… put my clothes back on?” she asked.

Sam looked at her. “Why are you asking me?” she said.

“It’s, um… part of the dare,” she said. “So can I?”

“What if I say no?” said Sam.

Tahlia blushed, and was silent.

“I’ll tell you to get dressed if I can take a video of you nude,” said Sam.

“Please…” begged Tahlia.

“I feel like your dare is your problem?” said Sam. “If you want to wear clothes, nobody’s stopping you. I’m just not telling you you can.”

Tahlia fidgeted. She needed to get to work. And she absolutely couldn’t leave Sam’s apartment naked.

“Okay,” she said. “Film me.”

He got out his phone and pointed it at her.

“Stand up, and spread your cunt lips with your fingers,” he told her. “And say, ‘My name’s Candy, and I’m a stupid whore who enjoys sucking cock.’”

Tahlia did as she was told.

“My name’s Candy,” she said, “and I’m a stupid whore who enjoys sucking cock.”

“Perfect,” said Sam, lowering his phone. “Okay, you can get dressed.” Then he smiled, and added, “Oh, but leave your panties behind. A trophy.”

Tahlia bit her lip at the betrayal – but she couldn’t argue. She put on her high heels, and her skirt – without panties – and then her bra and blouse, once again unbuttoning her blouse to show copious cleavage.

Sam was still staring at her like she was fuckmeat – and Tahlia found that she still liked it. Her eyes were like lasers connected to her cunt, and the longer that he looked at her, the more her pussy began to pulse, begging her to play with it again.

Attention. She needed to compliment him.

No! She’d already done it twice! Why did her rules want her to do it again? Was it just because her last compliment had made her more aware of his gaze?

What would her compliment be? That his cock had tasted good? That she’d liked sucking it? No, those were slutty things to say, and then she’d be stuck with the confusing belief that she, a lesbian, had enjoyed sucking a man’s cock.

Something innocuous. Something bland.

“You’re a nice guy,” she said.

There, that was bland enough, wasn’t it?

And then she believed it – and the guilt flooded in.

What had she done? Sam was a nice guy. And she had… corrupted him. Made him call her names. Sucked his cock like a complete whore. God, she was so embarrassed.

“Don’t worry,” said Sam, interpreting her sudden flood of shame as another emotion entirely. “I won’t show that video to anyone else.”

That was good. See? Sam was such a nice guy.

Then his smiled twisted into something crueller, and he added, “Provided you come back again on the weekend and give me a reason to keep it to myself. Shall we say Saturday morning?”

Tahlia went pale. Sam wanted her to come back and… suck his dick again. And he would share the video of her if she didn’t.

This was her fault, of course, for acting like a slut. She couldn’t blame Sam. He was a nice guy. He was doing what any nice guy would do in this situation. He didn’t know that she was under hypnotic compulsion. He probably thought she was just a slut who liked to play sex games. He thought he was giving her what she wanted.

“Yes, of course,” she said. “Saturday morning. I’ll look forward to it.”

And then she fled his apartment, the condom of his cum in her hand, before he could make it any worse.

===

You can buy the original novel Average Availability right now in the All These Roadworks store for only $7.99 USD – and your purchase will support me to keep writing new stories like this one!  (Click here to view in store.)

===