Chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine
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“What is that?” said Ben, looking at the photograph.
But he knew what it was. He had to know. There was nothing else it could be.
“It’s a photo of a… of a cunt,” said Tahlia. She felt like she was blushing, but her cheeks were already so flushed with arousal from her interrupted masturbation that she wasn’t sure it made any difference.
Ben looked at her. “Whose cunt?” he asked.
There was only one answer she could give – an answer which happened to be the truth. She could say it was another woman’s cunt – but only a lesbian would want to stare at another woman’s cunt, and the whole point of her Compelled Courtesy treatment was to avoid being outed as a dyke.
She considered ignoring Ben’s question, telling him to leave her office – but rejecting this line of enquiry would be rejecting harassment, and she would just end up with another rule. And Ben would leave knowing that she had a picture of her cunt on her desk, and she would prefer that he put his questions to her than to her other workmates.
“It’s my cunt,” she said, in a small voice.
“Why do you have it on your desk like that?” he asked her.
What was the least bad reason to have a framed photo of her pussy on her office desk?
“I lost a bet,” she said. “With a friend. I have to keep it there. I was hoping no one would see it. It’s pretty embarrassing.”
“Is it okay to be looking at it?” asked Ben.
To say no would be rejecting harassment.
“Of course,” she said. “You can look at it as much as you want.” And as she said this, she ran her hand along his thigh, stopping just short of his groin. Then she added, “But please don’t tell anyone about it.”
He opened his mouth to say that of course he wouldn’t – and then he suddenly became aware of the unspoken power differential.
“I don’t know,” he said, slowly. “I should probably report this to HR.”
Panic filled Tahlia. There was no way she could explain to human resources why she had a framed photo of her naked cunt on her desk. And word would get out throughout the office. She could lose her job.
She needed to convince Ben to keep quiet.
She didn’t allow herself to think, or second-guess herself. She moved almost instinctively, in a motion that was informed as much by her state of overwhelming arousal as by her urge for self-preservation.
She moved her hand to Ben’s cock, squeezing it through his trousers – and at the same time, she leaned over and kissed him on the lips.
It was gross. Ben was a man. Tahlia was a lesbian; she wasn’t attracted to men. She could feel stubble on his lips and chin as she kissed him. His lips were so… masculine. And the way his cock immediately hardened against her hand was repellent.
But she did her best to moan sluttishly as she kissed him, and he accepted the kiss, parting his lips, letting her slide her tongue into his mouth.
When it was over, she still had her hand on his cock, and she was looking into his eyes.
“It can be our little secret,” she said. And gave his dick a squeeze.
Ben was flushed, and flustered.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay. Our secret.”
And to Tahlia’s delight, she realised that in kissing him and groping his cock she had encouraged her own harassment, to a higher level than her rules required. Which meant she was allowed to delete two of them.
Well, obviously she was going to get rid of the rule about bad decisions, and maybe the rule about touching men intimately…
Except she hadn’t made two bad decisions yet today. She still had one to make. And she realised with a sick feeling that she was going to make it now.
Instead of deleting the rules she wanted to delete, she instead deleted the rules about masturbating while imagining rejected harassment, and about practicing oral deepthroating until she suppressed her gag reflex – which she had nearly done anyway.
She tried to keep smiling, even as she cursed herself for being a dumb slut.
“Now, why don’t we go over those concrete costs?” she said to Ben.
And they did.
But to make sure he had an incentive to stay quiet, she kept her hand on his cock until they were done.
===
She had thought when Ben was gone she would resume masturbating. After all, she hadn’t orgasmed before. But with her rules changed, she was no longer required to orgasm. And continuing her slutty behaviour when she didn’t even have to felt like a humiliating submission to her Controlled Courtesy programming.
So she resolved not to touch her pussy, no matter how horny she still was, and went about her day.
But she did her best to spend the rest of her day in the office, so no one would see her unbuttoned blouse or perky nipples or flushed cheeks.
Her mistake was in going for coffee, at around 4 pm, near the end of the day. She went to the break room and began to fix her drink, when Angus entered, along with two of his co-workers – Dave Filborn and Elias Ebowo.
“Hey kitten,” he said, ‘feeling thirsty?”
He said it with a kind of pelvic thrust that implied what she might be thirsty for, and she knew that answering in the affirmative under those conditions would be met with gales of laughter.
So instead she just said, “Hello, Angus,” and continued fixing her drink.
“You’re looking good, kitten,” he said. “I see you’re still showing off your tits.”
She burned with embarrassment. She was still showing off her tits – her blouse was unbuttoned to beneath her bra, as he had suggested to her earlier that day. Her rules didn’t allow her to fix it.
But he had shown her attention. She needed to return a compliment.
“Thank you,” she said. “You’re looking very handsome yourself.” And she immediately believed it. He was a very good looking man.
And then Angus took it a step further. He came up behind her, lifted up her skirt to show her panties, and placed his hand on her ass.
Tahlia froze.
If it had just been her and Angus in the room, she might have let him do it. It was gross, and humiliating, but it was the kind of thing she needed to allow in order to manage her Compelled Courtesy programming.
But he was doing it in front of Dave and Elias. If she let it happen, she would be making it clear to them that it was okay to do this to her – and that, by implication, they could do it to her as well. And they might tell other men.
So she slapped Angus’ hand away, and spun around.
“Stop it,” she hissed. “That’s not okay.”
He drew back, honestly surprised – and her mind immediately required her to make a new rule for herself.
Her fear of people knowing they could sexually harass her was holding her back. It was making her be a bitch.
So twice a day she needed to have a conversation with a man about how she enjoyed sexual harassment.
Tahlia’s Rules
- [NOT REMOVABLE] Never report sexual harassment. Keep your Compelled Courtesy processing secret, and don’t let anyone 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.
- Never disagree with a man about how to dress or wear your clothes.
- 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.
- Twice a day, have a conversation with a man about how you enjoy sexual harassment.
It was 4 pm right now. Once she went home she might not see any men for the rest of the day. She needed two conversations before she went to sleep.
“What’s the matter, kitten?” Angus said. “I thought you liked the attention.”
She tried to hold the words back, but she felt them coming out of her, unstoppable.
“I do like the attention,” she said. “I like it when you call me kitten, and look at my tits, and treat me like a pretty object. I always like it when men do that to me. I just… I have to pretend that I don’t, okay? For my image. And besides, I have important work to get done.”
And with that, blushing, she took her coffee and swept out of the break room.
But the damage had been done. She’d said what she’d said to Angus – and Dave and Elias had heard it too.
She had her second conversation in the elevator as she was leaving the building. Old, white-bearded Sean Flanagan, who worked in Human Resources, got in on the same floor as her, and when the doors had closed and they were alone in the elevator she began to speak.
She didn’t choose to – but something about the possibility of not seeing any more men that day, and breaking her rule, made her unable to stop herself.
“You know, women say that they don’t like being called pet names, or talked down to, or groped at work,” she heard herself say. “But I think really they do. They like the attention. Or at least, I do.”
She clamped her mouth closed after she had finished that sentence.
But it was too late.
Sean looked at her, saying nothing. Then he looked at her tits.
Then he reached out, and squeezed her boob.
Before her programming, Tahlia would have slapped him. Or screamed. Or both.
Instead, she just let it happen. She stood still, offering no resistance, and let her older co-worker feel and grope and squeeze her tits in the office elevator.
In fact, she did more than that. She reached out and stroked his chest, and – because he was showing her attention – she complimented him.
“I think older men are really hot,” she said. And immediately, she believed it – at least as it applied to Sean.
The elevator dinged. They had reached their floor. Tahlia was finally able to pull away, and leave the building – leaving Sean behind her.
Leaving Sean with the impression that she found him sexy, and with the certain knowledge that he could grope her tits without repercussions.
===
When she got home, Junko was still in bed, wearing nothing but panties. She didn’t look entirely well – although she looked a lot better than she had last night.
“How are you doing, sweetie?” asked Tahlia.
“Ugh,” said Junko. “I felt awful today. What the hell happened last night?”
Tahlia had fed her girlfriend a date-rape drug and then sucked a man’s cock while he sexually molested her girlfriend But there was no way she was going to say that.
“What do you remember?” she asked, cautiously.
“Nothing,” said Junko. “I had some drinks, and then…” She waved her hand.
“You got so drunk,” said Tahlia. “Like, blackout drunk. And you were kind of a slut. You were cockteasing a man. You showed him your tits. You even kissed him. Are you sure you’re really a lesbian?”
Junko gasped. “No way,” she said. “I wouldn’t do that.”
Tahlia shrugged. “Fine, don’t believe me,” she said. “But I swear it happened. I had to basically drag you away from that bar.”
She had expected that Junko would keep protesting that it wasn’t in character for her.
But she didn’t. She just fell silent.
And Tahlia wondered – did Junko actually find this believable? Was there something inside her that made her believe that she would kiss a man and show him her tits?
She remembered how Junko had moaned sluttily as York kissed her and pinched her nipples.
And then she remembered her own reactions to her recent interactions with men. How she had been able to get wet and cum while thinking of her harassment and humiliation.
And she had a traitorous thought. First, was it possible that both she and Junko secretly yearned to be sexually dominated by men?
And then, second, was it possible that all lesbians did?
She ignored the thought. She pushed it down deep inside her.
And to help her ignore it, she went over to Junko, grabbed a handful of Junko’s hair, and forced her into a deep kiss, while with her free hand she scrambled to remove her skirt and panties.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” she lied, once the kiss was over. “Now, be a good girl and lick my cunt until I cum.”
And Junko was only too happy to obey.
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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.)
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