Chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight
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Tahlia was going to be late to work. She was going to be late because she had given a blowjob to a man she barely knew so that she would be able to taste his cum. She had given him her panties as a trophy.
It made her burn with humiliation just to think about it.
And it hadn’t even helped her get rid of rules. Not really. She had gotten rid of two just from encouraging him to call her degrading names. After that there was no real benefit to anything she had done – going back to his apartment, stripping, or putting his cock in her mouth.
And now he was blackmailing her. She had to come back next weekend and suck his cock again, or he would share the nude video he had taken of her.
And to make matters worse, she was walking past the construction site near her house again. And the workers had seen her. Only days ago her rules had made her take off her panties in front of them, and them give them her underwear.
“Hey bitch!” called out a worker as she walked by. “Show us them nice titties!”
She could say no. She could reject the harassment. And get another rule.
She had already shown her tits to a stranger, less than an hour ago. What did it matter, really? If it got her out of having another rule?
She turned towards the construction site and quickly pulled her tits up and out of her blouse, blushing.
The workers on the site hooted and hollered with delight.
She quickly put her tits away, and turned to keep walking.
“Now show us your cunt, bitch!” the same man called.
“Yeah, I know you ain’t wearing any panties under there,” another man called. “We still have them hanging up in the site office!”
There was laughter at this. Tahlia felt her face go even redder.
She could do it. She could lift her skirt, and that might be enough to satisfy them.
But… exposing her cunt on a public street, to a worksite full of men. Flashing her tits was one thing, but this was too much. Even if rejecting harassment was a bad idea, it was too much.
So she kept walking.
And her mind, noting her disobedience, created a new rule.
She was too reluctant to show her cunt to men. That was what had caused her problem. She needed to get better at that. She needed to get used to men seeing her cunt.
She didn’t need to draw attention to it. But her cunt needed to be visible in public in some way, to give her practice.
That was the rule. Each day, she needed to find a creative way to put her cunt on display in public.
She already had her first idea.
She reviewed her rules:
Tahlia’s Rules
- [NOT REMOVABLE] Never report sexual harassment. Keep your Compelled Courtesy processing secret, and don’t let any one reverse 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.
- Each day, find a way to put your cunt on public display.
===
When she got to work, she went into the women’s toilets, entered a stall, and locked the door. Then she sat on the toilet with her skirt hiked to her waist, spread her legs, and took a picture of her cunt with her phone.
It was wet, she noticed. Why was it still wet? Was it still aroused from sucking Sam’s cock? Or had she been aroused by showing her tits to the construction workers? Or was it just anticipation of the slutty thing she was about to do?
She emailed the photo of her cunt to her work email, then went to her office, started her computer, and sent the photo to the office’s colour printer.
Then she had to run to the printer, in the open plan area of the office, to intercept the printing before anyone saw it.
It popped off the printer in full colour – her wet, pink, spread twat, on a small A5 piece of card. She was about to run back to her office when a voice stopped her.
“Hey, sweetcheeks, those tits are looking nice today.”
It was Angus Corville.
Tahlia’s first instinct was the same bitchy reaction she might have had two weeks ago – to call him an ass, and tell him his behaviour was inappropriate.
But she was literally holding a picture of her naked cunt in her hand. She pressed it against her skirt, hoping he hadn’t seen it.
And she was subject to the Compelled Courtesy process.
“Thank you,” she said. “I like it that you notice.”
And she believed it. She did like it when Angus noticed her tits. She added it to her other beliefs about him that stemmed from her compelled compliments – that his confidence was sexy. And that his harassment turned her on.
She could feel her cunt pulsing already.
She reached out, involuntarily, to flirtily stroke Angus’ arm with her fingers as he drew near. He seemed to appreciate it.
“You should really undo more buttons on your blouse to show off more of that titmeat,” said Angus.
“I should,” said Tahlia, unable to disagree with him.
He smiled. “Go on then.”
She took her hand from his arm, and reached up and unbuttoned her blouse down to the bottom of her bra, exposing a wide sweep of her milky cleavage, as well as much of her lacy black bra. It was completely inappropriate for work – and yet, she couldn’t stop herself.
It occurred to her she could encourage Angus to go further, and she would be able to get rid of some rules.
No. This was bad enough already, to be showing a whorish amount of tit in the office.
“That’s perfect, kitten,” said Angus. “Leave it like that.”
She knew she would.
“I, uh, have to get to some urgent work,” she said.
“I bet you do,” said Angus. “Maybe we talk more about those tits of yours later, what do you say?”
“I’d like that,” said Tahlia, because saying otherwise would be rejecting him.
But the truth was, part of her – a part that she hated – would like it.
===
Back in her office, she got out an empty photo frame from her desk drawer. She had intended to put a photo from her recent holiday with Junko in it, but now she placed the colour photo of her cunt in it instead. Then she put it on her desk, where it sat between three other photos – two of her parents, and one of herself graduating from her degree. It was right there in public view – her wet cunt, between her mother and her father.
She didn’t think anyone would see it. They’d have to be on her side of the desk, and looking closely, and even then they might not realise what they were looking at, just because of the incongruous context. But they could see it, and that was enough to satisfy her rule.
Of course, Tahlia could see it, and Tahlia knew what it was. Tahlia would be looking at a photo of her cunt all day, every day, at work.
She couldn’t have a photo of her own girlfriend on her desk, in case anyone realised she was a lesbian, but apparently she could show off her own fuckhole.
But she had another task to complete. Two tasks, really.
She made sure her office door was firmly closed, and briefly wished that it had a lock. Then she sat back behind her desk, and pulled her skirt up to her waist. She got the condom of Sam’s cum out of her purse, and untied it.
Carefully, she dipped two fingers into the condom, bringing them out coated with sperm. Then she pushed them into her mouth, pushing them deep, trying to trigger her gag reflex.
At the same time, she began to rub her cunt with her free hand, and as she did so, she pictured what it might have been like to show her pussy to the construction workers. They would all have thought she was a slut and a whore. She would have been betraying her gender, encouraging them to think they could treat any woman that way. They might have taken pictures.
She pictured it – her skirt at her waist, her fingers spreading her cunt lips to give them a better look…
The cum on her fingers wasn’t quite right, because it was cold, but it was definitely the cum of a man. She was getting closer to getting used to the taste of sucking cock. Her finger pressed deep into her throat and she struggled to suppress the urge to gag.
Showing her cunt to strangers. Tasting cum. She put her fingers back into the condom to scoop out more cum, and more, and finally just stuck her tongue into the condom to lick out the last of the sticky white fluid.
God, she was so close to cumming. She was so close….
There was a knock at the door of her office.
“Fuck,” Tahlia swore. “Come in,” she said. Quickly she dropped the condom into her waste paper bin, and tried to pull down her skirt.
It was Ben Dundell. Just the other day Tahlia had told him he was a good man – and she still believed it. Even though his eyes went straight to her tits, where they were bulging out of her lewdly-unbuttoned blouse.
Of course he would look at her tits. Even a good man would do that. It was her own fault, for exposing them to him. Why would she undo her blouse that way, if she didn’t want men to look at her tits? Ben couldn’t be blamed.
“Hi, Ben,” she said. “How can I help you?”
He was still looking at her tits. And now Tahlia realised how she must look. She had been on the edge of an orgasm. Her face was flushed. Her breathing was quick. And her nipples were rock hard, and – yes – the shape of them was visible through her blouse.
Could Ben see? Of course he could. Even if he didn’t understand how close to orgasm Tahlia was, he could at least see that she looked like a slut.
And… he was showing her attention. She needed to compliment him.
“I always like it when you come to visit me, Ben,” she said. And immediately she believed it. She did like it. She was glad he was here, staring at her tits.
“Um,” he said, “I had a proposal to run by you about concrete costs. Have you got a few minutes?”
“Sure,” she said. “Take a seat.”
He nodded, and went to sit in the seat on the opposite side of her desk that was reserved for visitors.
Except…she needed to be able to touch him affectionately and intimately while she was with him.
“Why don’t you come around to this side, so we can both see my screen?” she said.
He shrugged, and dragged the chair to her side of the desk.
She froze with fright as he came near. The condom was still visible in her waste paper bin. What if he looked down?
Except he wasn’t looking down. He was looking at her screen – and then to the side of the screen.
At her photographs.
The photograph of her cunt.
She had thought that no one would notice it, but now it seemed impossible not to notice. Her wet, splayed, whorish cunt, printed in colour and framed on her desk.
And to make it worse, she felt herself reaching over and placing a hand on Ben’s leg. Stroking it, intimately and affectionately, while he stared at the photo of her fuckhole.
And she waited to see how he would react.
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