Chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten
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Before work, while Junko was still sleeping, Tahlia took a photo of her cunt. Then she printed it out, in colour, on twenty pieces of A4 paper.
She dressed in a push-up bra and unbuttoned her work blouse halfway down, to call attention to her tits. Then on the way to work she posted all twenty pieces of paper on streetlights and fences.
It was just her cunt. It didn’t show her face. It didn’t have her name. But still, there were twenty enlarged photos of her spread wet pussy on public display in her neighbourhood. Tahlia felt deeply humiliated – but at least she’d fulfilled her daily obligation to put her cunt on public display.
When she walked past the worksite, and a worker called for her to show him her tits, she turned, and unbuttoned her blouse further, and pulled out her tits. She let him look at them for a full ten seconds before putting them away again and continuing.
“I love the way you look at my tits,” she called back over her shoulder, fulfilling another rule – and as she said it, she believed it. It did feel good to have men stare at her tits. She wondered how she had never realised that before.
In the elevator at work, she found herself alone with Sean Flanagan again, who had groped her boobs last night.
“You know, I really love being treated like a sex object,” she told him, fulfilling another rule obligation. “It’s just so flattering, you know?”
Sean looked at her for a moment – and then reached out and grabbed her boobs.
She let it happen. And she continued letting it happen as he reached into her top and pulled her boobs out into public view.
Then the elevator dinged, and it was Sean’s floor. Tahlia was about to put her boobs away again, when Sean said, “You look good like that. You should leave them out.”
It was an instruction on how to dress. She couldn’t disagree with it. Her eyes went wide as the doors closed, leaving her alone in the elevator with her tits out.
She simply couldn’t put her tits back in her dress now. Not unless a man told her to.
When the elevator stopped on her floor, she stepped out with her arms crossed protectively over her bare tits. She looked around for a man.
There was Angus, ducking into the breakroom. Ugh, not the ideal choice. But she was desperate. She chased after him, still covering her tits.
“Angus!” she said, as she stepped into the breakroom. “Angus! Can you.. uh, can you tell me to not be a slut and dress properly?”
“Why?” he said, instantly suspicious. He was staring at her chest. Could he see that she was covering her tits?
She reached out an arm – still using the over to cover her tits – and stroked him on the arm flirtatiously.
“Don’t be difficult, just say it,” she said. “Come on, you love making fun of me for being a slut. Just tell me to stop dressing like a whore.”
He paused, considering.
“I’ll do it if you suck my dick,” he said.
Her reaction was immediate, instinctive, and unfortunate.
“No,” she said.
It was a rejection. On the plus side, she could now reject Angus as often as she liked today, without consequences.
On the negative side, she had to make a new rule.
She had been trying to deceive Angus. She had been trying to get him to give her an instruction on false pretences. She was a lying bitch, that was the problem.
The rule formed.
When she was less than totally honest with a man, she needed to then tell him an embarrassing truth about herself.
Oh, god, no. It was terrible. What if she told someone she was a lesbian? The whole point of this process was to hide her sexuality.
Could she control it? Well, she had just deceived Angus, so she needed to tell him something now. Something truthful. And she couldn’t tell him about why she needed permission to dress, because she couldn’t lie and her conditioning wouldn’t let her tell the truth about the Compelled Courtesy process.
So…
“In the elevator just now I let Sean Flanagan grope my tits,” she heard herself say. “He’s really hot.”
Angus gaped at her.
“Please, Angus, just tell me to stop being a slut,” said Tahlia. “If you do I’ll…”
She had a brainwave.
“I’ll let you sexually harass me,” she said. “You can call me darling and sweetie and honeytits and… and grope my ass and my tits. The truth is that I love being sexually harassed. It turns me on. Just… tell me to stop being a slut.”
“Fine,” said Angus “Stop being a slut. So… do I get to grope your tits now?”
She was free to reject him, having rejected him once.
“Not right now,” she said, already pulling away, turning around, and tucking her tits back into her dress. “I’m late for some important work.”
====
The important work wasn’t a lie. She was supposed to meet with her manager, Noah Shore, this morning. It was an informal catch-up – Tahlia was a project manager, and worked with very little supervision – but HR required these supervision meetings every two weeks for legal reasons.
She walked into Mr Shore’s office flustered, very glad that her tits had been put away, but aware that she was still showing a lot of cleavage
“Good morning, Tahlia,” said Noah. He was a wealthy, urbane, well-dressed and physically fit man in his 40s.
“Hello, Mr Shore,” she said. “Uh… what did you want to discuss in today’s chat?”
“Oh, just checking in, mostly,” he said. “Is everything going well with the project?”
“As well as can be expected,” said Tahlia.
“I heard you managed Georgie del Sabato very well the other day,” said Noah. “You got a good outcome with him. That takes good negotiating skills. He didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”
He made me show him my tits, Tahlia thought. I let him imply that I only have a job because of my breasts, and I let his offsider call me a cow. I let him shake my boob instead of my hand as he was leaving.
“No, sir,” she said. “No trouble at all.”
Except she had already forgotten that she wasn’t allowed to lie. She needed to provide an embarrassing truth.
She found words forming on her tongue – “I licked my girlfriend’s cunt last night…”
No! No! She couldn’t say that! She cast around for something else to say…
“Yesterday I let a man call me a cunt and then I sucked his cock,” she blurted out.
Her eyes widened. How could she have said that? To… to her boss?
Noah looked at her.
“Tahlia,” he said. “Is that some kind of… sexual proposition?”
She felt the consequences of the question. If she said yes, she’d either end up sucking his cock, or being fired. If she said no… it would be a rejection. She’d have a new rule.
She couldn’t suck her boss’ cock. She just couldn’t. People already looked at her tits and assumed she’d fucked her way to the top. She’d be confirming every misogynistic office trope about beautiful women.
And she couldn’t afford to be fired.
“No, sir,” she said. “It’s just… it’s been a strange time in my sex life. Sorry. You probably didn’t need to know that.”
It was happening. Another new rule was forming.
Why was she worried about confirming misogynistic office tropes? Wasn’t that her real problem? Her fear of being the sexy secretary, the office fuckdoll, the big-titted executive bimbo, was what led her to be such a bitch to men.
Honestly, a little misogyny around the office would help her loosen up.
The rule formed.
Twice per work day, encourage misogyny at the office.
Fuck.
“Do you need to… talk more about your sex life, Tahlia?” asked Noah.
There was no doubt about it. He was looking at her tits, now. She blushed.
But she could continue to reject him, now.
“No, sir,” she said. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”
Noah nodded.
“Fine. Well, asking about your project covers off my due diligence for the fortnight. Do you have anything else to add? Any other ideas?”
She should have said no. But she had to encourage misogyny twice today.
“Actually sir, I was thinking about morale in the office. And I was thinking that all the men wear professional suits and ties every day, and they look very handsome. But some of the women just dress like absolute frumps. It doesn’t encourage a professional tone. I was thinking maybe we need a dress code for the office women. Compulsory high heels. Skirts, not pants, and no hemlines that come down further than an inch below the panty-line. Push-up bras. Make-up. What do you think?”
Noah looked at her.
“I think if I proposed that idea, it might seem… misogynistic,” he said. “But if a woman was asking for it, that would be a different matter. Would you be prepared to be the face of this project, Tahlia?”
“Of course, sir,” she said, brightly.
He nodded.
“Then I’ll make it happen,” he said. “And that’s all for this meeting. I’m sure I’m keeping you from your work.”
===
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.
- When you’re less than fully honest with a man, tell him an embarrassing truth about yourself.
- Twice each work day, encourage misogyny at the office.
===
Tahlia was barely back to her office when Ben Dundell came in. She swore, silently, remembering how yesterday she had showed him the photo of her cunt, and kissed him, and squeezed his cock.
But Ben surprised her.
He was blushing as he entered.
“Look, uh, Tahlia,” he said, awkwardly. “About yesterday…”
She didn’t know what to say. She just waited.
“What I did was… it was inappropriate and disrespectful,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I was a little surprised by the photo on your desk but… honestly it’s none of my business what photos you have t here. And then – well, you’re a very attractive woman, and…”
He was giving her an out. He was de-escalating from what had happened yesterday. They could go back to just being colleagues.
Her rules had convinced her that Ben was a good man. And now he was proving it.
Which made him safe. Someone she could trust. Someone she could rely on.
Someone she could use to get rid of two of her rules. Including the problematic “embarrassing truth” rule.
So instead of accepting his de-escalation, she decided to encourage some harassment she wouldn’t otherwise receive.
“No!” she said. “Ben… it’s okay. Having a photo like that on my desk is… slutty, I know. And provocative. It’s understandable you reacted that way. And I really appreciated you not telling anyone – and also how you helped me with the concrete costs. What I did when I… kissed you, and… that was my fault. You’re not to blame for reacting to me being slutty.”
She indicated a space next to her, suggesting he should drag the second chair to her side of the desk.
“Why don’t you close the office door, and just hang out with me for a bit? It might help us to… get comfortable with what happened?”
Ben looked nervously out into the hallway, then back at Tahlia – or more specifically, at her tits. Tahlia could see a tent appearing in the crotch of his pants.
Then he shrugged, closed Tahlia’s office door, and came to sit next to her.
“Wonderful,” said Tahlia. She needed to give him a compliment because he was showing her attention, so she added, “You know, I really like spending time with you.”
And she believed it.
And then, smiling, she reached out, placed her hand in his lap, and squeezed his erect cock.
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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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