Titcage (All Chapters)

Chapter One

TITCAGE

Claire didn’t want to work at Titcage. But work experience during the school holidays was compulsory for seniors and despite her best efforts she couldn’t convince her parents or teachers that the so-called Committee For Gender Equity was against women, not for them.

Funded by church groups, conservatives, and the world’s richest men, the organisation existed for one purpose: to change community and government attitudes to women and restore women to a role solely as sextoys, housekeepers and breeders. They famously released nude and compromising photos of prominent women to destroy their reputations, and were rumoured to have organised several unsolved rapes committed against feminist lobbyists.

But Claire’s mother didn’t follow politics and was set firmly in the belief that any organisation run by intelligent men would be a good and respectable place for a teen girl to be educated. And so Claire found herself on a Monday arriving, nervous and scared, at the fifth floor offices of the political think-tank colloquially known as Titcage.

The lobby was modern and professional. One wall showed a photo collage of smiling women. Only on a closer look did Claire notice they were all wearing dog collars.

The receptionist was a beautiful blonde. She was dressed in smart business clothes but with a plunging neckline that revealed much of her breasts and a black leather dog collar. It was definitely a dog collar, not a choker. It even had a round name tag attached to it. The tag said ‘Girl’.

Claire herself was more modestly dressed. Her blonde hair was cut in a trim but attractive style; her skirt was short but her blouse mostly hid the large tits that Claire was always embarrassed by. Looking at the pretty receptionist made Claire uncomfortably aware of her tits, and the way that they were bouncing and rubbing against the inside of her bra as she moved. Hesitantly, Claire approached the receptionist.

‘Um, hello,’ she began. ‘I’m here for the…’

‘Work experience,’ finished the receptionist. ‘Yes, you must be Claire. Michael was expecting you. Come right this way.’ She stood up from behind the desk and led Claire through a door, into a small meeting room. ‘We just need to do your ID card, and then we can take you through to see everyone.’

‘I didn’t catch your name,’ said Claire nervously.

‘Oh, it’s on my tag, just like everyone here,’ replied the receptionist. ‘It’s Girl. Which reminds me, we have one for you.’ She passed Claire a leather dog collar. A shining tag hanging from it read ‘Claire’. Claire took it awkwardly.

‘What is this for?’ she asked.

‘To wear,’ replied Girl. ‘Titcage uniform. It’s just like a name badge, really. Now take off your shirt.’

‘What?’ asked Claire. She had just finished buckling the collar around her neck. The leather felt cold and rough against her skin.

‘Take off your shirt. For your ID. I need to get your measurements.’

Claire didn’t like this at all but felt trapped. Maybe this was normal. Maybe it was just like a medical examination. Slowly, she took off her shirt, revealing her lacy pink bra and the huge soft tits it encased.

‘Good girl,’ said Girl reassuringly. She stepped forward with a measuring tape and ran it around Claire’s bust. She pulled it tightly, and Claire felt it dig into her breasts uncomfortably. Girl looked down at the result shown by the tape, then grabbed Claire’s left tit in her hand and squeezed painfully.

‘Ow!’ complained Claire. She felt weird. She couldn’t think of the last time another person had touched her boobs so directly.

‘Just checking if they’re real, baby,’ said Girl. ‘And I see they are. 34DD, natural. Now just some ID photos.’

‘Can I put my shirt on?’ asked Claire.

‘Oh, no, honey, just wait there,’ replied Girl. She stepped behind the camera, and snapped several photographs. Claire twisted uncomfortably. She didn’t like the idea of being photographed without her shirt on. When Girl was done, she told Claire to wait while she stepped out. Claire remained in the room, shirtless and miserable, for several minutes, until Girl returned.

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I guess you can get dressed for now. Here’s your ID. It’s just a temporary one so it’s not complete.’

It was the strangest ID card Claire had ever seen, hanging on a lanyard obviously meant to go around her neck. At the top it showed her named – Claire Morgan – but it had not one ID photo but three. The first showed her face, as expected, but the other two were focused on her breasts and crotch. The crotch photo showed only the cloth of her skirt, but the breast photo recognisably showed her half-bare tits and her bra. Next to the photos were a series of measurements: “Tits: 34DD, real. Cunt capacity: – Milk production: – Fertility: – Fuck grade: – Rank Z”

‘What is this?’ asked Claire, outraged.

‘Your relevant statistics, silly,’ replied Girl. ‘It holds everything relevant to know about a woman. Here, look at mine.’ She held out her own ID. In it, Girl was completely naked. The photos showed her large, bare udders, and her naked shaved twat, splayed open for inspection. The text read, “Tits: 32D, real. Cunt capacity: 1.35 litres. Milk production: 1 quart, B grade. Fertility: C Fuck grade: B Rank T.”

‘Don’t worry,’ Girl added. ‘You’re only temporary, you don’t need any of that.’

‘This is demeaning,’ said Claire. She felt herself blushing bright red. The receptionist had just showed her a photo of her vagina. Claire felt embarrassed by seeing another girl’s private parts.

‘Baby, you don’t demean a pig by grading its bacon,’ replied Girl. ‘But if you don’t want to work here no one is forcing you.’

Claire wanted to leave. This place was creepy with its collars and degrading badges. But her mother would have a fit if she blew off work experience on the first day no matter how good the reason.

‘No, I’ll stay,’ said Claire uncomfortably.

‘Glad to hear it,’ said Girl. ‘Then follow me.’

She led Claire down a series of sumptuous corridors and showed her into a large office where a handsome middle aged man sat behind a huge mahogany desk. He had short, fashionably cropped brown hair, his chin showed a hint of stubble, and he was wearing a suit that must be expensive judging by how good it looked. He rose as she entered.

‘Hi,’ he said. ‘I’m Michael. You must be Claire.’

‘Yes,’ said Claire awkwardly. ‘Um, hi.’

Michael smiled, and gestured in a way that suggested he wanted nothing more than to be here, talking to Claire. It made Claire feel good; no matter how weird the situation, it always felt nice to be liked by a handsome man.

‘Take a seat,’ said Michael. He looked at Claire’s escort. ‘Girl, be a good twat and leave us.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Girl, exiting.

Did he just call her a twat? thought Claire as she sat down. The walls of the room were immensely distracting. Each side of the room bore giant posters of naked collared women. Most were kneeling. Some appeared to have semen dripping from theirs lips, breasts or vaginas. Claire had come across porn before on the internet but she’d never looked at it for long. Here she had trouble looking anywhere without a bare cunt or naked bust in her field of view.

‘I’m so glad you decided to do your work experience here, Claire,’ said Michael. And Claire noticed he wasn’t looking at her face – he was staring unashamedly at her tits. He didn’t make eye contact at all. It was like her face didn’t matter. What a creep! she thought, and folded her arms over her chest.

‘Let me tell you a little about Titcage,’ said Michael. ‘What we are about is fixing some of the gender inequities in modern society.’ He kept staring at Claire’s breasts. ‘Did you know, Claire, that less than five percent of Rape allegations by women result in a conviction? Does it bother you that so many so called rape victims turn out to be lying sluts?’

‘Um, I guess,’ said Claire.

‘We provide public advocacy about the truth about rape allegations. You may have seen our TV campaign, “She’s Probably Lying”. We also compile information to help those charged defend themselves.’ Michael smiled charmingly, still looking only at Claire’s tits. ‘That’s where we’re going to start you.’

‘We also feel it’s unfortunate that women today are told about professions they are unsuited for, like science or the military, while more traditional female professions like stripping and prostitution are not allowed to present at career fairs. We help young women find appropriate and satisfying careers in these fields.’

‘We also lobby for laws designed to give women the structure and discipline they need and fund research that will help build a better society.’

Chapter Two

THE DATABASE

Michael led Claire out of his office and down a corridor to a large open plan workspace. Here too the walls held posters of nude, collared, recently fucked girls. Some had been photographed in the act of sucking large anonymous cocks. Most of the women in the posters seemed happy but a couple were visibly crying.

About twenty people were working in this space; mostly women, but also a couple of smartly dressed men. Several offices were visible through doorways and the occupants of these were without exception male. The women working here all wore collars and a charitable person would have described their clothing as sexy. Claire would have called it downright slutty. All the women wore short skirts, some so short their panties were visible, and all wore tops that called attention to their breasts. Few appeared to be wearing bras.

‘You’ll be working here,’ said Michael, ushering Claire to a clear desk bearing a computer. ‘You’ll be doing work in our rape support area. We find it’s incredibly helpful for rape accused to be able to show their accuser is a slut. What we’ve done is developed an algorithm that trawls the internet for images, recognises pictures of people, identifies ones that appear to be women showing a lot of skin or posed with a man’s cock or a sex toy, and then tries to cross-match them with photos already known to be of an identified woman such as from Facebook.’ He smiled at Claire (or rather, Claire’s tits) as he seated her at the desk. ‘What we need you to do is check the work done by the algorithm. You look at each photo, check that it is actually a girl in a compromising position, describe the photo using text with a focus on what makes it embarrassing, and then judge whether the girl is the one identified by the program.’

Michael called over a big breasted brunette nearby, looking at her tits the whole time. The woman approached, keeping her eyes lowered. She had a soft, kind face, and was blushing slightly. She was wearing only a bikini top above the waist, and Claire thought she could hear a buzzing sound coming from beneath the woman’s short skirt. Her face was flushed and she smelled like sex.

‘This is Pussy,’ said Michael. ‘She will be your supervisor. Do what she says and go to her if you have any questions.’ Pussy waved shyly at Claire.

Over the next hour Pussy helped Claire set up. She was helpful and a good teacher although Claire was uncomfortable every time Pussy’s barely clothed breasts brushed against her cheek or hair as Pussy leant over her shoulder to operate the computer. Claire noted from Pussy’s ID that her breasts were 34DD, the same as Claire, and they produced Grade A milk.

Finally Claire was left to work alone. It was simple enough. The software returned an image and Claire described it. ‘Amateur photograph,’ wrote Claire. ‘Blonde girl topless at party.’ ‘Professional photograph. Brunette masturbates.’ She looked at the suggested identity matches and confirmed that yes, the blonde was 17 year old schoolgirl Ellie Ryan, and yes, the brunette was porn star Brea Lynn.

She’d only done a couple when Michael called her into his office. ‘What is this?’ he asked, showing her a picture she had worked on.

‘A brunette masturbating,’ replied Claire.

‘Wrong, said Michael. ‘It’s a naked big titted brunette whore fingering her shaved twat in an unmade bed. She’s lying on her back with her legs spread and she’s looking at the camera, begging to be raped.’

Michael sighed. ‘You’ve got to add detail, Claire. And get the vocabulary right. Girls and women don’t pose naked for photos. These aren’t girls or women – they are sluts, whores and rapetoys. And vagina and breast are words for anatomy textbooks. Sluts have tits, udders, fuckbags or boobs. They have cunts and twats. Try again and this time I don’t want to see you use the same name for a body part more than once until lunch.’

Claire returned to her desk. She had already been blushing from staring so intently at naked vaginas and breasts. Describing them in detail made her go bright red. But she tried her best.

‘Pro photo. Naked blonde slut kneeling on kitchen floor. Left hand is squeezing her C cup tits. Three fingers of right hand are buried in her cunt. Eyes closed, gasping.’

‘Amateur photo. Schoolgirl wearing white button-up shirt sits on couch. She is masturbating her twat with a cucumber. Her shirt is open to reveal small boobs with erect nipples.’

Some quick work with Google turned up new synonyms.

‘Nude whore shown from waist up. Blonde smiling holding her D cup fuckbags. Sperm drips from lips onto cleavage.’

‘Hidden camera shows brunette tart in pink top masturbating her fuckhole while pissing at a public toilet.’

‘Big uddered fucktoy crawls nude across beach. Sand is sticking to het fat melons which hang down from her chest.’

‘Buxom rapebait – sexy tease – rapeable bitch – her hands on her boobs – slut balloons – fuck handles – rapemelons – fingering her beaver quim cum catcher sluthole fucktunnel snatch.’

Claire thought about the words she was using. They were each demeaning in their own way. ‘Slut’ implied that a woman fucked around, was unable to control her need for sex, and was dirty and disgusting. ‘Bitch’ implied she was a female dog. ‘Whore’ meant that fucking was her job and was a commodity that could be bought and traded. ‘Fucktoy’ meant that her whole purpose was to be casually fucked for the amusement of men; ‘Rapetoy’ was much the same but implied that forcing her and hurting her was part of the fun.

Likewise, ‘tits’ was derived from ‘teats’ and was a reminder that breasts were for making milk. ‘Udders’ was similar but gave the implication the woman was literally a milk cow. ‘Fuck handles’ suggested that a woman could be sexually controlled by grabbing and pulling her breasts. ‘Melons’ implied that breasts were for squeezing, biting, and could be bought and sold. ‘Fuckbags’ showed that the purpose of breasts was for fucking.

And the names for a vagina were even worse. ‘Cunt’ and ‘twat’ were just designed to sound ugly and make women feel ashamed of their vagina. ‘Pussy’ implied that the vagina and its owner were domesticated pets. ‘Sluthole’, ‘fucktunnel’ and ‘cumcatcher’ were all self explanatory.

Claire felt dirty using the words. They were disgusting and they made her feel like a traitor to women. But there was also a certain challenge in coming up with new words constantly. She had to research a lot on Google – and see some disgusting porn in the process – and finally she had to make up her own words. ‘Rapehole’ was one of hers, and so was ‘milksacks’. She was particularly proud of that one.

As she became lost in creating new descriptions for tits and cunts, the morning just flew by.

Chapter 3

THE TOILET

Around 11 am Claire felt thirsty. She had been working all day, and felt flushed and overheated from blushing so much at what she was looking at. She looked around and spotted a cool, inviting water cooler across the room. She got up and headed towards it.

‘Psst!’ said a voice. Claire turned and saw a thin, pretty long-haired teenaged blonde looking at her. The girl had an elfin, friendly face, a short wrap skirt and a button up shirt knotted under her medium-sized tits. Her tag identified her as Kitten, and according to her ID she was a B-grade fuck.

Kitten made a no-go motion towards the water cooler, crossing her hands across each other. ‘That one’s for the men,’ said Kitten. ‘We drink from the cordial.’ She pointed to another cooler, filled with red liquid.

‘Thanks!’ said Claire. She thought the prohibition was strange, but she liked the look of Kitten – she seemed friendly – and she appreciated the advice. She headed to the cordial cooler and poured off a plastic cup full of the liquid. It tasted strange, she discovered, but thick and sweet. Claire drank it all and then poured another cup to take back to her desk. As she watched, she was aware of all the men in the room watching her – or, more specifically, watching her tits. She blushed and sat back down, ready to describe the next naked whore the system offered up.

The cordial worked its way through Claire’s system, as she stared at a succession of embarrassing photos of naked sluts. About 90 minutes after she’d drunk the cordial, she became aware of a growing pressure in her bladder, and realised she needed to pee. It was almost lunchtime anyway, but she needed to go now, so she got up and headed for the toilets.

The toilet doors opened directly onto the open plan office, and were marked with the usual male and female signs, but the text was unusual. They read “girls” and “people”. Claire didn’t like the implication that girls weren’t people, but she entered the “girls” door anyway.

The room inside was a cool, and gently lit. Claire was immensely confused by it. It didn’t look like the toilets she’d expected. There were no stalls and no wash basins – just a large tiled room with a low bench at one end and some shower-style hoses and small indentations in the wall at the other. She turned around and left again.

She spotted Kitten’s desk nearby. ‘Hey,’ she said to Kitten, walking over to the girl. ‘Where are the toilets?’

‘Through there,’ said Kitten, pointing at the door Claire had just used.

‘No, that’s the showers,’ said Claire, whispering. People were looking at her and she felt her face starting to flush. She felt stupid being the new girl who didn’t know where the toilets were.

Claire had always been embarrassed by toilets. As a young girl she’d been mortified when her father had talked to her friends about how Claire sometimes wet the bed. And she’d never lived down having accidentally wet herself in fifth grade. She’d never been able to get past the idea that she was bad at pissing, that she was stupid and dirty because of it. It was enormously hard even to talk to Kitten about it now.

Kitten laughed. ‘They can be a bit confusing. Let me show you. I need to go anyway.’ Kitten reached down between her legs and adjusted something that Claire couldn’t see, and then got up and walked the blushing Claire back inside the ‘toilets’.

‘They don’t install actual toilets,’ said Kitten, inside. The two girls were alone in here, which Claire found helped. She was still blushing though. Kitten continued: ‘Women don’t need toilets and in any case they cost too much. There’s drains in the floor, so you just take off any clothes that are in the way and piss standing up.’

‘What?’ asked Claire, horrified.

‘It’s just like camping,’ said Kitten. ‘Oh, except don’t squat. You’ve got to do it standing up. Squatting’s unattractive and if the supervisors catch you doing it you’ll get in trouble.’ Kitten peeled off her short skirt and laid it on the low bench. Claire gasped. It felt wrong to be here with Kitten disrobing. It felt slutty and wrong. Kitten was wearing no panties underneath, and Claire blushed to find herself looking at Kitten’s shaved pussy. It was cute – exactly like what Claire imagined a perfect vagina to look like. And right through her clit, there was a small metal ring. It looked painful, but at the same time it fascinated Claire.

Kitten closed her eyes, blushing a little, and then slowly urine began to pulse and trickle from her twat and run down her legs. It pooled at her feet and then ran off to a nearby drain. Claire couldn’t believe she was watching another girl piss in front of her but it would be impolite to leave. She had no friends here except Kitten and she didn’t know what she’d say if she left – clearly what Kitten was doing was normal here.

Claire flashed back to when she was 14 and her father had come into the bathroom to find her peeing in the bathtub because the toilet was broken. Claire had already been humiliated even while she was alone, squatting in the cold porcelain tub and peeing, and it had been worse when her father had grabbed her, spread her legs, and starting spanking her still-piss-damp pussy. Claire had cried and wailed for hours and that night had lain awake thinking about what a dirty animal she must be to have deserved such punishment.

Now, Claire watched as Kitten pissed, entranced by the river of urine running down the girl’s beautiful leg. She watched until finally the flow stopped. When it did, Kitten walked to the wall, took down on of the shower hoses Claire had seen, turned it on, and rinsed her legs and cunt clean. She moaned a little as the water played across her inner thighs.

‘You’ll want to wear heels to work, like you are now,’ said Kitten as she washed, angling the water at her pussy. ‘If you wear socks they’ll just get pissy and wet. And you need to be careful with the hose or you’ll get your shirt wet. A lot of girls just get completely naked to be sure.’ She pressed the hose against her vagina and sighed contentedly.

‘This is weird,’ said Claire unhappily.

‘No, it’s no weirder than sitting on a bowl,’ said Kitten. ‘Soon you’ll wonder how you pissed any other way. Also, the washing off is just for your own comfort. The organisation doesn’t care if your legs are pissy, you won’t get in trouble for that.’ She turned off the hose and hung it back up.

‘What if I need to…’ said Claire, and stopped.

‘Shit?’ laughed Kitten. ‘Just stick your ass in one of the indents in the wall and poop. They’ll take care of the cleaning up.’ She put her skirt back on. ‘Good luck, honey,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you at lunch if you want?’

‘Okay,’ said Claire. When Kitten had left, Claire nervously took off her skirt and pulled off her panties and put them on the bench. Then she moved to stand right above a drain, spread her legs a little, and tried to relax. It took a while, but finally piss began to spurt from her vagina. Initially it arced out and splashed away from her, but soon it slowed to a trickle and ran down her legs. Claire felt strange and dirty and was just glad no one could see her. She kept worrying that someone would burst in and spank her cunt for being so dirty. She looked at her hairy pussy and wondered what it would be like to have a shaved beaver like Kitten. When she was done she rinsed off her legs and dressed.

At lunch she found Kitten in the small break room, alone. The break room was refreshingly normal, except for more of the omnipresent posters of nude women. It had a normal-looking fridge and cupboards and a table. Claire sat down next to Kitten.

‘Is your name really Kitten?’ she asked.

Kitten laughed. ‘No, it’s Sarah, but I’m called Kitten here. Well, actually my full work name is Slutkitten, but we mostly use the short names because it’s less distressing to new people like you.’

‘Slutkitten?’ said Claire. ‘But that’s so demeaning!’

‘It’s just a name,’ said Kitten. ‘It’s no different from sorority hazing or working at a Hooters bar or whatever. It’s just part of the way the organisation promotes itself.’

Claire looked at Kitten’s badge. It read “Tits: 32C, real. Cunt capacity: 1.2 litres. Milk production: None Fertility: N/A Fuck grade: C Rank: X”. ‘What does the stuff on your badge mean?’ she asked.

‘Tits are self explanatory,’ said Kitten, cupping hers. ‘To test cunt capacity they put a balloon in your pussy and then pump it up until you cry, and that’s your capacity. Milk production is for lactating women and it shows how much they express a day and how tasty it is. Fertility is how likely you are to get Pregnant. They can test that but mostly they don’t bother unless you have a high rank or you’ve already been pregnant. Fuck grade is how satisfying you are to men when they fuck you. Rank is how high in the organisation you are – the closer to A the better. You can order around anyone with a lower rank than you.’

‘So fuck grade – how do they know what that is?’ asked Claire, scared of the answer.

‘Well, for me they made me give them phone numbers for my ex boyfriends and then called them to ask how I was in bed.’ Kitten looked uncomfortable. ‘I had to listen in. It was so humiliating I was in tears. They asked how easily I got wet, and if I liked it when they called me names, and if I got wet when I was abused. I had to hear my boyfriends say I was only adequate in bed, not good. He said I didn’t swallow enough of his cum and I didn’t agree with him that I was a whore. And then they gave me the C grade.’

‘What if you’re a virgin?’ asked Claire. She was a virgin.

‘Then you get a V for virgin, and you have to ask your first fuck to call the office for an interview when you finally get laid,’ said Kitten. ‘You sure have a lot of questions!’

‘This place is weird and embarrassing,’ said Claire. ‘I hate it.’

‘But they’re so influential!’ said Kitten. ‘They’re setting lawmaking policy all over the country! Don’t you want in on the ground floor?’

Claire felt close to tears. She just shook her head.

‘Well you can always just quit, I guess,’ said Kitten. ‘Which would be a shame. You seem nice!’ She reached out and gave Claire a friendly hug, and Claire hugged her back.

It felt good to be liked, but not so good as to make Claire forget pissing down her legs.

Chapter 4

AFTER WORK

Claire kept working, though, to get through the day. She described dozens of cunts, twats, and udders. She was embarrassed to occasionally feel her cunt getting wet looking at all the naked women. Every time it happened she took a break by getting up and getting another cup of cordial. She had to take a lot of breaks for that reason.

As a result she needed to use the toilets twice more that afternoon. The first time Kitten accompanied her again, and this time watched as a blushing Claire pissed down her own legs. The second time Claire went on her own but found her supervisor Pussy already there, just finishing washing her own legs. Pussy watched as Claire got undressed but thankfully left before Claire started to pee. Both times Claire felt dirty and took extra time hosing her pussy and legs clean. When Claire was done peeing she realised she needed to shit too.

She awkwardly backed up against one of the indentations in the wall. It fit her ass perfectly. She slowly relaxed and finally managed to shit in the unfamiliar position. The poop fell away through a hole at the back of the indentation. Then Claire got a shock! A slowly rotating device extended from the back of the indentation, covered with wet rags. It probed between her ass cheeks and rubbed the rags right up against her anus. Claire almost jumped away but then though about having to wash the shit off her ass with the hose, and decided to stay put instead. The device was pleasurable, she found, although the motion of the wet rags embarrassingly called to mind the image of a rough tongue licking forcefully at her anus. She felt her pussy moistening and tried to think of other things.

Finally her butt was clean and the device retracted. Claire dressed and left.

After work she was asked to see Michael on her way out.

‘Three things,’ said Michael as Claire entered his office. ‘First, you’re doing a great job, keep it up.’

‘Thank you,’ said Claire. She had no intention of saying she wouldn’t be coming back. He could find out tomorrow.

‘Second, shave your pussy,’ said Michael.

‘What?’ asked Claire.

‘It’s hairy and it shouldn’t be,’ said Michael. ‘Hairy pussies show you have no intention of trying to please men. Shaved cunts are Titcage uniform. Shave it off tonight.’

‘All right, whatever,’ said Claire, having no intention of shaving.

‘Don’t turn up to work tomorrow with a hairy twat,’ said Michael. “We’ll send you straight home.’

Claire reflected that Pussy must have tipped Michael off about her pubic hair after seeing her in the toilets. She kept her mouth shut.

‘Third, this is a battery powered video camera,’ said Michael, handing Claire a small device. ‘Set it up in a corner of your bedroom at home so it can see the whole room. It’ll broadcast back to us.’

‘What?’ exploded Claire. ‘Why?’

‘Titcage expects certain behaviours of its employees, even work experience staff,’ said Michael. ‘The camera just checks up on you. Nothing sinister. Again, make sure it’s on before coming to work tomorrow if you want to work here.’

I don’t, thought Claire, but she said nothing, took the camera, and left.

At home she broached the subject at dinner.

‘Mum, I’m not going back to that place,’ she said, between mouthfuls of peas and lamb. ‘They’re weird and gross.’

‘Oh, here we go,’ her mother said. Her mother had had Claire early, aged only 13, and was now only 31 herself. She had Claire’s big breasts and long brown hair. ‘You’re so lazy, Claire. I’m not having it. You’re going back tomorrow.’

‘But mum, they…’ Claire started.

‘Listen to your mother,’ said Claire’s father, a heavyset 40 year old who worked as a bricklayer.

‘I don’t want you ending up as a stripper or a prostitute, Claire,’ said her mother. ‘You’re going to learn to work in a real office and that’s the end of it.’

‘But I can’t…’ said Claire.

‘ENOUGH,’ exploded her father. His face was red. He got up from the table, grabbed Claire by the hair, and pulled her roughly over to the couch.

Claire was shocked. Her father never treated her like this. ‘Daddy…’ she started – but was even more shocked when he pushed her down over his knee, lifted her skirt, and pulled down her panties.

SMACK! His hand came down on her ass. Claire squealed in pain.

‘Your father and I have had a talk, Claire,’ said her mother calmly, as if nothing strange was happening. ‘You know your school grades haven’t been good and frankly we’re not happy with the crowd of girls you hang around with.’

SMACK! went her father’s hand on her ass again.

‘We think it was a mistake to stop physically disciplining you, and we’re going to start again. You’ll do as you’re told and be a decent hardworking girl, or you’ll be spanked.’

SMACK! and SMACK!

Claire couldn’t believe this was happening. Her father was spanking her bare ass in front of her mother. Her mother was just watching. Claire wiggled, trying to get free.

SMACK!

Her father landed 20 agonising blows on her ass. Each one made Claire feel dirty. Her father’s hand was touching her bare bottom. Her ass and pussy were exposed. She was being spanked like a baby in front of her family.

‘Have you learned your lesson, Claire?’ asked her mother.

Claire was sobbing, tears running down her face. This had been an awful day and this was an awful end to it. ‘Yes,’ she cried.

‘And are you going back to that organisation tomorrow?’ asked her mother.

‘Yes,’ cried Claire, and she knew she would.

Afterwards, Claire’s ass stung, but she knew she had work to do now. She borrowed one of her father’s razors and some shaving cream, and one of her mother’s hand mirrors, and sat on the toilet with her legs spread. Carefully, she shaved her cunt, removing every last hair. Touching her pussy constantly as she shaved made her wet – wetter than she would have expected. She had to pause three times to breathe slower and let her twat calm down and stop drooling before she could resume. When she was done, her pussy looked just like Kitten’s, and just like all the sluts she had spent all day demeaning. It was totally, sluttily, nude. She looked just like them.

Then she set up the camera. It had an easy adhesive and it glued neatly to the top-right corner of her bedroom, with a full view of everything. She pressed the “ON” button on the side and a small well-hidden red light lit up.

Then, crying, she got into bed. As she fell asleep, her last thoughts were wondering why her cunt still felt so wet and engorged.

Chapter 5

DAY TWO

Day Two was better, mostly just by being the same, and not worse. Michael seemed happy to see her. He didn’t comment on either the camera or her vagina but she felt somehow he knew that her pussy was bare now.

She spent all day describing and cataloguing naked girls again. She had to use the toilet several times – that red cordial seemed to go straight through her – but she had started to get used to it. She found she particularly liked the feeling of the device ‘licking’ her ass clean. On one trip to the toilet she met another of the female staff, a petite blonde whose tag described her as ‘Toy’. Toy didn’t piss quite like Kitten. She left her panties on as she pissed, and Claire watched as they became damp and then soaked, before the piss escaped to run down Toy’s legs. When she was done, Toy took the panties off, and then pushed them up inside her cunt, before putting a clean pair on over the top.

‘Why do you do that?’ asked Claire, worried that maybe she was supposed to do the same.

Toy smiled kindly. ‘I’m trying to rank up,’ she said. ‘More’s expected of you when you want to do that.’ She dressed and left without elaborating. Claire wondered what it would feel like to have wet pissy panties in her cunt, and shuddered a little.

At lunch Claire chatted to Kitten. She found out Kitten was studying sociology by distance education, and liked sewing and dancing. Claire had always wanted to dance and she listened eagerly as Kitten described ballet lessons and recitals.

At the end of the day Michael called Claire in again. ‘Good girl,’ he told her. He got out from behind his desk and patted Claire on the head. It was demeaning and Claire blushed – but it also felt good to be praised.

‘We’ve got some training for you, in fact,’ said Michael. ‘Here.’ He passed her a small plastic capsule, and what looked like an iPod with headphones. The capsule was connected to the iPod.

‘What’s this?’ asked Claire.

‘Wear it to sleep tonight,’ said Michael. ‘The earphones go in your ears, obviously, and the capsule goes in your twat.’

‘What?’ said Claire. ‘No!’

Michael looked stern. ‘Look, we don’t want to fuck around. If you want to work here, make sure you take the training tonight. If you don’t, don’t turn up tomorrow. It’s fine either way but don’t get your panties in a knot about it.’

Unhappily Claire took the device and went home.

She was quiet all dinner. When her mother asked her how work had been, she said, ‘Fine.’ She didn’t want a repeat of yesterday. Her mother looked satisfied with this answer.

That night Claire thought about ignoring the device. She wanted to. But she looked up at the camera with its red light, and knew it was use the device or tell her parents that Titcage had fired her. She unhappily spread her legs and put the pod into her pussy, then put on the headphones and pressed play on the iPod.

It was a droning male voice. ‘Tits,’ it said. ‘Boobs. Fuckbags. Slutmelons. Udders. Whoresacks. Tits. Fuckbags.’ As it talked, the capsule buzzed gently in Claire’s pussy, like a vibrator. It was embarassing, but quite pleasant. ‘Slutmelons. Udders. Tits. Fuckhandles.’ Then it paused, and the buzzing in her cunt stopped, and then the voice quite deliberately said, ‘Breasts.’

At the word ‘Breasts’ an explosion went off in Claire’s cunt. The capsule discharged an electric shock. Claire squealed and writhed on the bed. It was only a small shock but it had been so surprising. She went to rip the capsule out of her pussy, but then remembered the camera, and remembered the surprising brutality with which her father had beaten her ass. She left it inside her.

‘Cunt. Pussy. Sluthole,’ said the voice, and now it was a woman’s voice. ‘Rapetunnel. Twat. Beaver. Twat. Cunt. Pussy. Cunt. Cumcatcher.’ And then it paused, and then said, ‘Vagina.’ And again the capsule shocked Claire’s cunt. Claire started to cry, softly, so her parents wouldn’t hear.

Again and again, in different voices, the tape repeated disgusting and humiliating names for women and their body parts while vibrating Claire’s cunt, before ending with the traditional name and shocking it.

The last sequence Claire remembered before falling asleep, her cunt still buzzing and the tape still playing was:

‘Whore. Slut. Fucktoy. Pissdrinker. Rapetoy. Slut. Slut. Bitch. Whore.’ And then: ‘Claire.’ And the shock.

===

Chapter 6

DAY THREE

‘Petite naked redhead slutpig 69ing a big-uddered blonde lezbo,’ wrote Claire, on her third day at Titcage. ‘They each have their legs spread and are licking each other’s engorged twats.’

Claire hadn’t slept well – a combination of the vibrator running in her twat, and its regular electric shocks. She was tired and confused, and to her shame she was desperately horny. Her pussy had been drooling since she woke up and it had now made her panties quite damp. If this were any normal workplace she’d lock herself in a toilet stall for ten minutes or so and take care of it with some quick masturbation but there was no privacy at Titcage. She took another sip of her cordial and kept working.

Claire pissed twice that day. The first was at the same time as Kitten; she found herself surreptitiously watching Kitten’s pussy as she pissed, entranced by the beauty of Kitten’s pierced cunt and the warm bubbling of urine flowing from it. Kitten complimented Claire on her newly shaved twat, making Claire blush. She didn’t comment on the obvious wetness of Claire’s pussy.

The second time was with a redheaded girl called ‘Melons’. Claire was shocked to find Melons naked and openly masturbating when Claire entered the toilet. At the same time as she was masturbating, Melons was also pissing. Claire looked at her face and saw Humiliation and shame there – the girl didn’t look like she wanted to be masturbating, but nevertheless she brought herself to an orgasm as Claire watched, and then staggered away to wash herself down. As horny as Claire was, she couldn’t contemplate masturbating in front of another girl like that, and so she just did her business, pissing down her legs, and then washed up and left.

Towards the end of the day she decided she felt like some sane company, and asked Kitten if she’d like to come to Claire’s house to visit. Kitten enthusiastically accepted, and the two girls travelled together by bus home to Claire’s suburb.

‘I’m so glad there’s at least someone nice at Titcage,’ said Claire.

‘So am I,’ said Kitten. She leant over and rested her head on Claire’s shoulder affectionately. It made Claire feel warm and happy.

At home they headed straight to Claire’s room. Kitten was still wearing her collar and, Claire assumed, no panties, so she wanted to avoid her parents if possible.

In her room, Claire closed the door, and turned around to find Kitten topless. She’d removed her shirt and her 32D breasts were completely bare.

‘Sarah…’ started Claire.

‘Oh god, I’m sorry!’ said Kitten, blushing. She snatched up her shirt again. ‘Oh god, I’ve been working at Titcage so long, I didn’t think. I’m just so used to relaxing like this.’

Claire felt horrible. It was weird having another girl semi-naked around but she wanted so much to have a friend at her horrible workplace, and Kitten was so nice. ‘No, it’s okay, be however you want,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, I was just surprised.’

‘You’re really okay?’ asked Kitten dubiously, lowering the shirt and revealing her tits again.

‘Yes,’ said Claire, feigning confidence. Kitten smiled, dropped the shirt and climbed onto the bed, tits down, wiggling her legs in the air. The action made her skirt ride up, revealing her bare buttocks.

Looking at the half-naked girl, Claire’s cunt tingled. She looked just like so many of the nude sluts Claire had been staring at for the past three days. Girls like this are for sex, a part of her mind thought. Girls like this are sluts and rapetoys. The image of the two 69ing whores from earlier today flashed through Claire’s mind before she pushed it away.

‘So how are you finding Titcage?’ asked Kitten. Claire blushed at what she’d been thinking about.

‘I hate it,’ said Claire. ‘But my parents won’t let me quit.’

‘It’s not so bad,’ said Kitten. ‘Is it really so hard to look at porn all day?’

‘It’s slutty,’ said Claire unhappily.

‘I have to look at it all day too,’ said Kitten. ‘Am I a slut?’ She rolled over onto her back as she spoke. Her tits and pussy were both clearly visible. Claire blushed.

‘No, I’m sorry,’ said Claire. ‘You’re so lovely. I just…’

‘It’s different to what you’re used to,’ said Kitten. ‘But that doesn’t mean it’s bad. I’m happy there. You can be too.’

Claire sat on the bed next to Kitten. ‘They gave me this training thing. I have to put it in my… in my pussy. And it shocks me.’

Kitten looked surprised. ‘You’re so lucky!’ she exclaimed. ‘You have one of the sleep trainers? They must really like your work!’

‘What?’ asked Claire. ‘Why?’

‘Sleep trainers are like a guaranteed rank up!’ said Kitten.

Claire listened as Kitten explained the rank system. Every girl at Titcage had a rank between A and Z. A was the highest, Z the lowest. You could give orders to any girl of lower rank; you had to take them from any girl of higher rank.

‘And the men?’ asked Claire.

‘Oh, all the women are below all the men. Any man can give orders to any woman. But you’ve seen the office. Most of the staff in our area are women.’

Ranking up was based on work performance, but it was also based on commitment to the Titcage philsophy.

‘Women are below men. The further below men you make yourself, the further above other women you are. Doing stuff that shows you know your place makes you more likely to be given a higher rank,’ explained Kitten.

Claire thought of the woman she’d seen, Toy, stuffing her pissy panties into her twat. She told Kitten about it.

‘Yes, that’s it exactly. Toy’s trying to get a higher rank, because she gets bossed around by Pussy all the time and she’s sick of it.’

Claire’s cunt was throbbing. She didn’t know why all this talk was doing this to her, but her sluthole, horny and neglected all day, was growing more insistent with every minute. She found herself staring not at Kitten’s eyes, but at her beaver, and Claire’s hand had made its way to press against her own crotch without Claire quite remembering how it got there. She tried to concentrate.

‘So you’re…’ she started.

‘Rank X,’ said Kitten. ‘Higher than you.’ She smiled mischievously. ‘Which means I get to tell you what to do. For instance, right now I’m ordering you to stop pretending your pussy isn’t sopping wet. Go take care of it. I’ll wait.’

Claire blushed bright red. ‘I’m not…’ she said.

‘You are,’ said Kitten. ‘I can smell you from here. With the amount of cordial you’ve been drinking it’s no wonder. Go masturbate. You can do it here if you want, I don’t mind, but I guess you’re probably prefer some privacy.’

Humiliated, burning with shame, but grateful, Claire stumbled wordlessly away from the bed and ran to the bathroom. Almost slamming the door behind her, she sat on the toilet, lowered her panties, and furiously rubbed her twat to a shuddering and overwhelming orgasm. She tried to think of handsome men while she frigged herself but all she could think of was Kitten’s naked pussy.

During the masturbation she thought briefly – what did Kitten mean about all the cordial I drink? – but the thought was lost when Claire orgasmed, and it didn’t resurface again until much later.

Chapter 7

THE PHOTO

Claire blushed for almost an hour. She had masturbated with Kitten’s knowledge. She had been told to do it by Kitten. Kitten had smelt the wetness of her cunt.

But Kitten made her feel all right about it. It was something that up to now Claire would have considered disgusting, but Kitten made Claire feel like it was normal – intimate, but normal. And in any case Kitten was mostly naked and in no position to judge.

They talked about music and films and TV. Kitten looked at photos from Claire’s trip to Tokyo last year and Claire listened to Kitten talk about performing in her school play.

Finally Kitten left. The two girls hugged at the front door, and Claire found herself genuinely regretful that Kitten had to leave. Claire had other friends, but Kitten was already her closest, just by virtue of the things they had shared.

Afterwards, Claire had dinner with her parents, watched TV and went to bed. In bed she looked at the training device for a long time, and then put on her earbuds and tentatively put the capsule into her twat, where it started buzzing happily.

‘Slut,’ said the tape. ‘Whore Lesbian bitch rapetoy slut bimbo slut lesbian.’ And then the pause, and the shock, and, ‘Claire.’

Claire fell asleep surprisingly quickly.

The next morning Claire woke up horny and, remembering the day before, she learned from her mistakes and masturbated herself to a quick orgasm. Her pussy was sopping wet and her fingers slid easily in and out of her snatch and across her clitoris. She moaned quietly as she fingered herself – she’d never been able to stop herself making noise during sexual pleasure, and had always been embarassed about how slutty she sounded when she moaned like that, but it was easy to not care too much when her cunt felt this good.

It was only after she’d cum that she remembered the camera in the corner of the room watching her. Claire was mortified. She’d just fingered herself like a slut on camera. Who had been watching her? Michael? Some nameless security guard? She quickly pulled her bedsheets around her to cover her semi naked body.

Later in the shower she thought of Kitten. Kitten had gotten nude in her room too. The camera would have gotten an excellent view of that beautiful shaved slutbox and of her bare udders. Had Kitten known? Surely she had. If Claire had been given a camera then all the girls at Titcage must have one.

At work she tried to ignore her co-workers. She couldn’t stop thinking that any one of them might somehow have seen the feed from the camera and watched her fingering her twat that morning. She kept her head down and concentrated on her work.

As it turned out, she was her work. The fifth photo to appear on her display was her. In bed. Naked. Masturbating.

Claire squeaked in surprise and turned off her screen. Her face was red. Kitten and Pussy looked at her to see what was wrong. ‘It’s nothing,’ said Claire. She got up hurriedly and went straight to Michael’s office.

‘There’s a picture of me,’ she declared, out of breath, to a surprised Michael.

‘Well, of course there is,’ said Michael. ‘The system isn’t dumb. It gives you all your own ones. You wouldn’t want anyone else seeing them, after all.’

‘But…’ said Claire.

‘Titcage owns an image of you,’ said Michael, ‘and it needs to be classified. It’s not like we’re spying on you. You knew there was a camera and you did… whatever you did anyway. Here, let’s do this one together.’

He spun his computer screen round so they could both see and pressed some buttons. Suddenly the image was there – Claire fingering her nude shaved twat. Claire wanted to run out of the room and die, but she didn’t.

‘You look pretty,’ said Michael, and even in the midst of her humiliation Claire felt a buzz of pleasure at his compliment. Michael passed her the keyboard. ‘Here – could you type a description, please?’

Claire felt like crying. Not just because Michael was looking at a picture of her masturbating but because she felt the words coming to her so easily.

She typed, ‘Slutty brunette teen lies on back on bed, nightie pulled up to show her large whorish fuckbags and her shaved drooling twat. Her legs are spread and she has two fingers of her left hand buried in her sluthole. Her right hand pinches her clitoris.’

She pressed enter and her staff photo appeared. ‘Is this slut Claire Sullivan?’ asked the text. ‘Yes,’ entered Claire.

‘What will you do with this photo?’ asked Claire. She was crying now. She couldn’t help it.

‘Same as all the others,’ said Michael. ‘It will go in the database and if you ever allege rape or are otherwise a lying bitch we will bring it out as character evidence.’ He patted Claire on the head. ‘But don’t worry, Claire. You seem to me like a good girl.’

After leaving Michael’s office Claire went straight to the toilet. She took off her skirt and panties so it would look like she had been pissing and then just sat on the bench and cried for half an hour. No one came in and Claire was grateful.

Chapter 8

THE SISTER AND THE SLUTHOLE

Claire was feeling a bit better by lunch. She took out some of her upsetness on the girls she catalogued, finding particularly demeaning and filthy names to call them as she entered their tits and twats into the database. Her supervisor Pussy seemed to notice her state of mind, and kept bringing her glasses of cordial without commenting. Claire drank them gratefully.

Near lunch, Kitten introduced Claire to two new employees of Titcage. She met the first in the toilets.

Kitten was naked as Claire walked into the toilets, preparing to piss. When she saw Claire, she gestured to the other girl there. ‘Oh, Claire, this is Mackenzie. Her work name is Sluthole.’

Sluthole was short and petite, but gorgeous, with a trim, fit body and flowing brown hair. She was naked too and Claire could see she already had a silver ring through her clitoris, just like Kitten. ‘Hi Claire,’ she said, smiling sweetly. ‘Get naked, we were just about to piss.’

The thought of pissing as a group still felt weird to Claire but she undressed. She didn’t normally remove her top but she did here, feeling Sluthole expected it of her. She blushed as the two girls looked at her naked tits.

‘You’re cute,’ said Sluthole. And with that, she walked over and threw her arms around Claire. Before Claire knew what was happening, Sluthole was kissing her passionately on the lips, her tits rubbing against Claire’s. Claire freaked out and went very still. She’d never kissed another girl before and this stranger was poking her tongue inside Claire’s mouth. She started to blush. Then she felt something warm splash against her leg, and realised what was happening. Sluthole was pissing. She was pissing on Claire’s legs.

Claire wanted to back away but before she could Kitten said, ‘She’s a higher grade than you, Claire. She’s an X. You have to do what she says.’

Sluthole stopped kissing Claire for a moment. Claire gasped for breath. ‘She’s right,’ said Sluthole. ‘And what I want you do to is piss with me. Can you do that for me, twat?’ Before Claire could reply she kissed Claire again.

Claire was trapped. She felt awful. She felt like she was being raped. But Kitten had told her before about the hierarchy, and if she broke it Titcage would probably fire her, and her father would beat her for days. She started to cry softly as Sluthole kissed her, and then, giving in, released her bladder.

Piss spurted from her pussy and splashed on Sluthole’s twat. Then it arced downward to soak Sluthole’s legs, and then finally Claire’s own legs.

It was only when Claire’s bladder was empty that Sluthole released her and broke off the kiss. ‘Thank you,’ the girl said, smiling cruelly. She rinsed her legs wrapped her skirt around her waist and left.

Kitten could see Claire about to cry. She came closer and hugged Claire. Once again naked tits were pressed against Claire’s but because it was Kitten, Claire didn’t mind.

Claire felt awful. She felt like she had been raped. She hated remembering Sluthole pissing on her leg and being forced to piss in return. She hated remembering Sluthole’s soft wet tongue exploring her mouth. Most of all she hated remembering the little spasm in her cunt that had signalled her starting to become aroused by the whole degrading experience.

‘It’ll be all right,’ whispered Kitten, and Claire hugged her friend tightly in thanks.

After Claire had rinsed and dressed, Kitten took her to meet the other new starter in the break room. He was a nineteen year old boy named Jim and Claire had an immediate crush on him.

Jim shook her hand; he told her he liked her dress. Claire blushed and then blushed further when she realised he was actually looking at her face not her tits. He told her he was hoping for a career in social policy and that he was studying at university. He told her he looked forward to seeing her again.

Claire went back to her desk blushing happily to herself. Meeting a cute boy had helped her forget the degrading morning. As she resumed cataloguing sluts she smiled and dreamed about kissing Jim.

That evening Claire got even more unwelcome news. Her sister Stephanie was moving home.

Stephanie was sixteen to Claire’s seventeen. She had smaller boobs, a willowy body and silky blonde hair down to her waist that had always made Claire jealous.

She had moved out two months ago to live with another girl. More run away than moved out, really. Her parents were furious both that Steph had run away and that she was a lesbian.

When Claire got home that evening she found her sister bare assed, cunt showing, bent tits down over het father’s knee as he spanked her. Steph wailed and cried.

Long hours at work had trained Claire’s eye. She saw a girl in a humiliating position, and she looked straight at the girl’s cunt. What she saw disturbed her on several levels. First, Steph’s pussy was shaved, just like Claire’s. A slut’s pussy, thought Claire, before she could stop herself. Secondly, Steph’s pussy was wet. Claire’s father didn’t appear to have noticed, but Steph’s cute labia were definitely engorged and her slut nectar was smeared across her inner thighs. And thirdly, looking at Steph’s pussy made Claire aroused. A twat like that is for raping, her mind thought, and her own cunt spasmed happily in response. Claire stepped down on those feelings hard, locking up the confusing emotions in the back of her mind, at least until she understood what was happening.

Claire’s mother filled her in. ‘Your sister has had a quarrel with that slut she was living with, and now she needs to come home,’ she said. ‘Of course, we’ve turned her room into a study, but she can sleep with you until we’re sure she’s serious about staying this time.’

Claire was horrified. ‘What? Mum, no!’

‘I don’t want to hear argument, Claire. She’s your sister and she needs somewhere to sleep.’

Claire looked back at Steph, still wailing as Claire’s father beat her naked ass. Claire tried not to look at Steph’s alluringly nude pussy. She turned back to her mother. ‘Mum, why is dad spanking her?’

‘It’s part of the deal. She gets a spanking every night for two weeks because she ran away and because she did immoral things with a woman. If she takes her punishment she gets to stay.’

Claire’s dad finished spanking Stephanie and the teen girl got up, rubbing her sore ass.

Dinner went by in sullen silence. Steph said not a word to anyone. Claire was brooding over having to share her room with her brat of a teen sister.

At night Claire changed into nightclothes in the bathroom as usual, to avoid the gaze of the camera, but when she came back to her room she found Steph completely naked, in the process of pulling panties up to cover what Claire had trouble not thinking of as her nude shaved whore-tunnel.

‘Jesus, Claire! Privacy!’ spat Claire’s sister, attempting to cover both her tits and cunt with her hands, and dropping her panties in the process.

‘Sorry,’ mumbled Claire.

‘Sor-ry!’ mocked Stephanie in a ridiculous falsetto.

Fine, thought Claire. I won’t warn you about the camera. And tomorrow you will be ‘blonde teen slut bares udders and fuckhole while changing clothes’.

They slept together that night; Stephanie right at the edge of the bed and trying to steal the blankets. Claire had her training device on with the sound turned down and her legs clenched to muffle the buzz of the vibrator.

‘Did you really have sex with a girl?’ asked Claire, just before falling asleep.

‘Her name was Jenna,’ replied Stephanie.

Friday morning Claire wanted to masturbate, but couldn’t with Steph around. Or could she? Steph had no work and it was the school holidays, so she was still asleep. Her sister’s shirt had ridden up during the night to expose her small pretty tits. Claire looked at them and thought about Jim and began to surreptitiously rub her cunt. Her labia were soft and wet and it felt wonderful and relaxing. Then Steph moaned and rolled over, and Claire remembered the camera and jumped out of bed.

At work she asked if she could stop using the training device.

‘My sister is going to wonder what it is,’ she said to Michael.

‘No, you can’t stop, but we can give you a better one,’ said Michael. ‘You were due for a new tape anyway. Stay awake till your sister falls asleep then put it in. The tape will wake you up early to take it out.’

The new device didn’t have a capsule. It had a fat dildo. ‘It won’t buzz,’ said Michael. ‘It will just pulse inside you. And you will be glad to know this one doesn’t shock you.’

Claire looked at the large latex phallus dubiously.

‘You’ll probably need to get yourself wet first to get it to slide in,’ added Michael helpfully as Claire headed to her workstation.

Sluthole was waiting at Claire’s desk. ‘Thank god,’ she said. ‘I have been waiting an hour to piss.’ She pulled the shocked Claire by the arm, dragging her to the toilets. Inside, Melons was masturbating as she pissed, stopping occasionally to lick her fingers clean. Sluthole ignored Melons and practically ripped Claire’s clothes off before undressing herself. She pressed her naked body up against Claire and kissed her on the lips. ‘You have no idea how long I have fantasised about doing this to a girl,’ she said when she finally broke the kiss. ‘Particularly a big titted cow like you. Kissing and pissing and feeling naked fuckbags rubbing against me is amazing.’

She reached down and gently stroked Claire’s twat before encircling Claire in her arms again and pulling her close. ‘Piss,’ she whispered in Claire’s ear.

Claire was crying now, sobbing, but she relaxed her bladder and allowed her urine to spurt onto Sluthole’s legs. As soon as she did, Sluthole kissed her and then started to piss herself.

Claire hated it. She felt the wet warmth on her leg. She felt the warm tongue in her mouth. She felt her nipples stiffening with arousal as Sluthole ground her pissing cunt against Claire’s thigh.

When they were done, Sluthole had a further humiliation. She wordlessly took Claire’s panties and used them to mop the piss from her own legs and cunt before handing them back to Claire and leaving.

Claire threw them out. She refused to wear piss-wet clothes, and if Kitten could go without panties, she could too.

She regretted it almost immediately. She couldn’t stop thinking about her bare cunt, and as she looked at pictures of sluts and tagged them, her pussy got wetter and wetter. When she got up to get a cordial at 10.30, she was mortified to realise her pussy juices had left a wet spot on the back of her skirt. She immediately ran to the toilets, intending to wash her pussy clean and then wait a while for it to calm down.

Unfortunately Sluthole was there, waiting. ‘Claire!’ she said, delighted. Sluthole was already completely naked. She grabbed Claire, and pulled off Claire’s skirt before Claire could object. She pulled her hips towards Claire’s, their legs interweaving so that Claire’s thigh was against Sluthole’s twat and Sluthole’s was against Claire’s. Claire gasped. Pressure on her engorged pussy was just what she didn’t want right now.

‘Oh my,’ said Sluthole teasingly. ‘You’re all wet.’ She wiggled her thigh against Claire’s cunt and Claire turned bright red at the resulting wet squelching noise. But it felt good. Her twat responded with even more lubrication.

Wordlessly, Sluthole started to kiss Claire, while grinding her thigh into Claire’s pussy. Claire moaned and tried unsuccessfully to pull away. It felt so delicious. It was just like masturbating, except there was another girl here, and it was wrong, because Claire wasn’t a lesbian, and she wasn’t a slut. But Sluthole’s thigh was rubbing her fuckhole so amazingly…

Then Sluthole started to piss, and Claire felt the warm liquid on her thigh. ‘Piss,’ whispered Sluthole, breaking off the kiss for a moment. ‘Mmmf!’ said Claire, against Sluthole’s lips, which was her way of saying, ‘No!’.

Sluthole couldn’t make her do this. Claire would stand up for herself. Claire would… OW!

Sluthole’s fingers had worked their way between Claire’s legs, and sharply pinched her clitoris! It was agonising! And yet at the same time it made Claire even wetter. OW! She pinched Claire’s clit again.

Claire gave in. She released her bladder and started to piss on Sluthole’s leg. But Sluthole didn’t move her hand away from Claire’s twat. Instead she kept stroking Claire’s clitoris. Claire wanted her to stop. Claire was confused and scared.

And then the most humiliating thing that had happened to Claire so far happened. She orgasmed. Right there, naked from the waist down, in a toilet, kissing a girl, pissing on a girl’s leg, having her clitoris rubbed by a girl. She orgasmed. Her whole body went rigid, and she almost screamed, ‘MMMMF!’ into Sluthole’s mouth. Piss spurted out of her pussy. Waves of pleasure ran through her. Then she went loose, losing control of all her muscles, and only Sluthole’s arms held her upright.

‘Good slut,’ whispered Sluthole. She gently lowered Claire to the ground, where Claire sat in a pool of urine. Sluthole was still pissing and a few drops spattered on Claire’s shirt. Then Sluthole went and cleaned herself off, dressed, and left.

Claire cried for nearly 10 minutes, until Toy came in and started to piss and masturbate across the room for her. Claire got up, rinsed herself off, tried to clean the tears from her face, and then dressed. Her outfit felt slutty. She had no panties and there were pussy-juice stains on her skirt. Drops of urine were still damp on her shirt. She went back out and tried to work, hoping no-one would notice.

Someone did, though. It was Jim. He didn’t say anything but he had seen Claire was upset, and he came over and gently joked with her. He told her he thought she was a breath of fresh air next to all the slutty women who worked at Titcage, and that he was glad there was someone sane sharing the workplace with him. Claire managed to smile and told him he was sweet.

And then the day was over. And with it came the start of the weekend.

Chapter 9

FRIDAY NIGHT

Girl had an unusual present for Claire as she left the office. It was a giant cooler filled with the office’s red cordial. ‘For you to drink over the weekend,’ she said. Claire was baffled but took the cooler. She had come to like the taste of the drink, anyway.

At home, she was surprised to find her mother and father waiting for her in the living room, their faces stormy and unwelcoming.

‘Hi?’ said Claire, suspiciously, putting her purse down in the corner.

‘How was work, Claire?’ asked her father in a way that suggested it was more trap than question.

‘Fine,’ said Claire. ‘Looking forward to the weekend.’

‘I’ll bet you are,’ said Claire’s mother.

‘Did anything… interesting… happen today?’ asked her father.

‘Um, no,’ said Claire, trying not to think about orgasming from Sluthole’s mouth and fingers. As soon as she had said it, she knew it was the wrong answer. Fury overtook her father’s face.

‘I called your office, Claire,’ said her mother accusingly. ‘To see how you were doing. I spoke to that nice Michael. And do you know what he told me?’

Claire went ice cold. Had he told her he had a photo of their daughter masturbating? Had he told her Claire pissed standing up in front of other girls? Claire couldn’t think of any good answer to her mother’s rhetorical question.

‘No?’ she hazarded.

‘He told me he found your panties lying in a waste-paper bin today,’ her mother said. She wasn’t shouting, but Claire knew that not-shouting indicated that her mother was unspeakably furious.

‘Is this true, Claire?’ asked her dad.

‘No!’ exclaimed Claire. How could she admit to throwing away her panties because another girl had pissed in them?

Too late she realised her mistake. Her father rose from his chair strode across to her and lifted her skirt. Underneath was only her nude pussy.

‘You lying little whore,’ he breathed.

‘Claire, what is the meaning of this?’ her mother demanded.

Claire’s head spun. Her parents were staring at her naked twat. She couldn’t explain about the panties because she’d have to explain about the toilets and about Sluthole and about being pissed on.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her voice cracking. She could feel herself starting to cry.

‘Claire, why did you do this?’ her mother pressed.

Claire couldn’t explain. And as her mind grasped for something to say it settled on a familiar and oddly appropriate one.

‘I’m just a slut,’ she wailed, and then burst into tears.

Her parents looked at each other. ‘Claire, go to your room,’ said her mother, ‘and stay there until we decide what to do about you.’

Sobbing, Claire obeyed. Steph was in Claire’s room, reading a fashion magazine, but she cleared out immediately when she saw Claire’s tear-streaked face. Claire collapsed on her bed, and cried there quietly for nearly half an hour. She felt so dirty. How could she be in this situation, with her parents thinking she was a slut who threw away her panties for fun? How could she be living a life where the reality was a girl had pissed on her and played with her pussy until she orgasmed? She reached down between her legs and pinched her labia viciously. She hated herself. She hated her slutty twat.

Eventually her mother called her from downstairs. Claire tried to compose herself, and then left her room.

‘Claire,’ said her mother, in the lounge room. ‘We’ve discussed what to do about this disturbing behaviour, and we’ve decided to take several steps.’

Claire said nothing, only waiting.

‘First, we will be checking you when you leave for work and when you get home, to see that you’re wearing your underwear. If you’re not, there will be additional punishments.’

Claire blushed. It would be humiliating to have her panties checked like she was an incontinent baby. But she could live with it.

‘Second,’ said her mother, ‘unless you’re at work, you won’t be wearing panties at all. We’re taking away your underwear rights until you learn to appreciate them.’

‘What?’ asked Claire, astonished.

‘Shut up, you slut,’ growled her father. ‘It’s bad enough I have one daughter who’s a lezbo without finding out the other one’s been flashing her beaver at everyone who wants to see it. You’ll take your punishment and you’ll be grateful.’

‘Thirdly,’ said her mother, ‘we’ve talked to your supervisor Michael at the Committee, and he’s agreed to check on you each lunchtime to make sure you’re still wearing your panties. You just go in to see him and he’ll take a quick look and report to us.’

‘But he’s a man!’ wailed Claire.

‘He’s a much older man than you,’ said her mother. ‘I’m sure he has daughters your age. It’ll be fine. He’s really very generous to donate his time to keeping you on the straight and narrow.’

Claire started to cry again.

‘And fourthly, you’re going to get a spanking each night, right before your sister, for a week. That should help you remember to keep your vagina covered like a nice girl.’

And so Claire found herself ass-up over her father’s knee, being repeatedly hit on the buttocks while she cried. She got twenty spanks, and then was sent to kneel nearby while her sister took her turn. She tried to look away as Steph’s naked ass and cunt wiggled in front of her, but her mother made her look straight at it, for she’d remember the punishment. And Claire found her pussy growing uncontrollably wet. Afterwards she had to run straight to the toilet and wipe it dry with toilet paper – which helped, but didn’t make her any less aroused.

She ate dinner in sullen silence. Afterwards she climbed into bed next to Steph, and pretended to sleep until her sister had dozed off. In the darkness, her sister’s body next to her, she eased down her pyjama pants and began to surreptitiously rub her pussy. It didn’t take much to make Claire wet, after how horny she’d been, and she was soon able to gently ease the fat rubber phallus of the training device up inside her fuckhole. It was uncomfortably big, and Claire gasped as it started to quietly vibrate inside her. It felt good and she wanted to buck her hips against it but she was scared of waking up Steph. Instead, she just put on her headphones and tried to sleep.

‘I deserve to be raped,’ said the headphones into her ear. ‘I deserve to be raped. Claire is a slut. Claire is a good slut. Claire likes the training tape. Claire likes being told what to do. Claire likes to be fucked. Claire likes to be raped.’

Claire tried to tune out the disturbing voice and not listen to it, but she fell asleep instead.

Chapter 10

THE WEEKEND

Claire had a fitful sleep. She woke up several times to find herself orgasming, and the voice in her ear saying, ‘I like to be hurt. Claire likes her tits hurt. I like my training tape. Claire is a slut,’ but she soon fell unconscious again.

In the morning, she awoke while it was still dark. The voice in her ear was now a high pitched whine, yelling, ‘Wake up, slut! Wake up, slut!’ Claire pulled the earphones off, eased the dildo out of her twat, and put both under the bed. She felt desperately horny, and so she climbed out of bed, crossed to the bathroom, and spent a happy few minutes bringing herself to another climax sitting on the toilet.

The weekend had begun – and the weekend was good. No Titcage. No describing of sluts. No pissing standing up. True, Claire wasn’t allowed to wear panties, but she didn’t care. All she wanted to do was lounge around the house and be a normal girl. She watched TV, she listened to music, she read magazines and she fought in a good natured way with her bratty sister.

She went through the bottle of cordial she’d been given by 4 pm on Saturday. It tasted good and she kept getting another glass. And all day she felt horny. Three times she locked herself in the toilet in order to diddle her un-pantied cunt to a satisfying orgasm. She had to have a shower in the middle of the day to wash the smell of her aroused vagina off.

In the evening she got a surprise – Kitten came to visit! Her friend from work turned up on the doorstep, looking amazing in a white button-up shirt and short tartan skirt.

‘Kitten!’ said Claire, surprised and delighted.

‘Hi! I know you had a rough day on Friday so I thought I’d come and check up on you,’ said Kitten, hugging Claire.

‘I’m fine,’ said Claire, and after how relaxing Saturday was she thought she meant it.

‘I brought you some more cordial!’ said Kitten, holding up a two litre bottle of the red drink. ‘I thought you might be out.’

‘Thanks!’ said Claire. ‘I am!’

‘And how are you going with your training?’ asked Kitten.

Claire made a face. ‘They gave me a new one,’ she said. Then she had a thought. ‘Oh, hey, we’ve got nowhere to hang out. I share my room with my sister now.’

‘Want to come to my place?’ asked Kitten. ‘I’ve got a granny flat. My parents never see me except when I want them to.’

‘Mum, dad,’ called Claire. ‘Can I stay at a friend’s house tonight?’

Claire’s dad appeared in the hall. ‘Hi, I’m Travis,’ he said, extending his hand to Kitten.

‘Kitten,’ replied Kitten. She ignored his hand and gave him a warm hug, pressing her boobs and groin against him tightly. Claire’s dad was momentarily nonplussed.

‘Can I go?’ asked Claire.

‘I suppose, but you’ll need your spanking first. Kitten can watch.’

Claire was shocked her father would even offer to let a stranger watch Claire’s bare bottom spanking, but it was Kitten and really she didn’t mind. it was nothing compared to pissing in front of her friend. And Claire was excited to get out of the house.

And so Kitten watched as Claire’s skirt was flipped up to expose her nude pussy, she was turned over her father’s lap, and she was spanked until she cried.

Afterwards she ran upstairs rubbing her sore bum to get her toiletries. ‘Remember your trainer,’ suggested Kitten.

Kitten turned out to drive a small bubble-shaped town car. Once inside, Claire apologised for her father.

‘Don’t apologise!’ said Kitten. ‘He’s cute. I’d love to have my ass under his hand!’

‘Gross!’ said Claire.

‘And I saw you had no panties?’ queried Kitten.

Claire explained what had happened Friday, and how she couldn’t tell her parents about Titcage.

‘Well, at least you know your work is helping to reduce that prejudice,’ said Kitten. ‘One day we’ll live in a world where what happens at Titcage is normal for everyone.’

At Kitten’s house, Kitten led Claire behind the main building where her parents lived to a small granny flat. inside was a single large room with a double bed in the middle and a kitchen sink and microwave against the far wall. The room also contained a treadmill and small wardrobe.

Kitten paused inside. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’m normally nude at home. Is that going to bother you?’

Claire blushed. It would, but she didn’t want to make her friend feel awkward. Plus honestly kitten had a very nice body. Especially her twat.

As Kitten undressed, revealing her perfect fuckbags and her cute little slit, Claire asked, ‘Don’t your parents have a problem with you being nude in here?’

‘Not really,’ said Kitten. ‘They mostly keep to themselves, and anyway, they don’t mind.’

The two girls laid on Kitten’s bed and Kitten put on some movies on a small computer screen. First they watched a comedy and laughed uproariously at it. Kitten served them both cordial.

‘What’s in this, anyway?’ asked Claire as she savoured a glass.

Kitten looked at her strangely. ‘You don’t know?’

‘No!’ said Claire.

‘Sugar and water, mostly,’ said Kitten. ‘But also urine, cunt juices and some aphrodisiac.’

‘What?’ Claire exclaimed. She jumped away from her cordial glass in revulsion.

‘Oh, calm down,’ said Kitten. ‘You like the taste and you know it. They have girls on another facility and they collect their piss and slut nectar and feed it to us along with a drug to keep us horny.’

Claire felt sick. ‘That’s monstrous,’ she said.

‘Claire, have you seen what’s in Coca Cola? This isn’t half as bad. It’s an appropriate drink for sluts like us to drink and it tastes good. Finish your glass.’

‘No!’ said Claire.

Kitten looked abruptly angry. ‘I didn’t like hearing it either, Claire, but I drank it. If you’re going to be stuck up about this you can get fucked.’

Claire was stricken. She liked Kitten and it hurt to have Kitten angry at her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘but…’

‘It’s just like jelly, Claire,’ said Kitten. ‘You wouldn’t eat horse’s hooves, but that’s what jelly is made out of. You wouldn’t eat most of the things that make sausage if you saw them by themselves but sausage is delicious. This is just cooking – it’s not the ingredients that matter.’

Claire was torn. She wanted Kitten to like her but she didn’t want to drink piss. But Kitten was right, wasn’t she? It wasn’t piss now; it was cordial. That was different. Hesitantly she picked up the cup.

‘Good girl,’ said Kitten, in exactly the same tone of voice Michael used with Claire. It made Claire feel good. She lifted the cup to her lips and took a sip. It tasted good, just like always. A little acrid, but not like piss. She drank more, and then finished the glass.

Kitten clapped her hands with delight. ‘Thank you, Claire! It would make me feel so slutty if you didn’t drink it but I did. Thank you!’

Claire blushed. ‘It’s okay. You’re right, it tastes good.’ And when Kitten got up and poured her another glass – adding some rum ‘to help it go down’ – she drank some of that too. Claire didn’t drink alcohol often but she liked this.

After the comedy movie was finished Claire need to pee. ‘Where’s your bathroom, Kitten?’ she asked.

‘Oh, I don’t have one out here in the granny flat,’ said Kitten. ‘I just piss out on the lawn as if I’m at Titcage. There’s a hose out there to clean up.’

‘Outside?’ gasped Claire. ‘But what if someone sees?’

‘No one will see,’ said Kitten. ‘The fences are high and none of the windows from the house face out this way. Besides, it’s dark now.’

Claire looked outside. It was dark. But she didn’t want to piss outdoors.

‘If it really bothers you, you can piss in the sink,’ said Kitten. ‘That’s what I do in winter when it’s too cold out.’

Claire didn’t like that idea either but she liked it more than pissing outside. She took off her skirt, climbed up onto the little kitchen counter, and squatted over the sink. It didn’t bother her now to be pissing in front of Kitten. Kitten watched with interest as Claire peed into the sink, and then turned on the tap and splashed water on her twat to wash off.

When she want to put her skirt back on, Kitten said, ‘You know you don’t have to wear that, right?’

Claire blushed. She wanted to wear it but again it would look rude with Kitten wearing so little. Well, not rude in an absolute sense, she thought. No one would blame her for not wanting to be naked in front of someone else. But nevertheless she knew it would hurt Kitten’s feelings a little. So she left it off, and climbed back up on the bed with her cunt exposed.

The next movie was a horror movie. It was scary. The girls lay sideways on the bed, both facing the screen, Kitten behind Claire, and when the more frightening parts started Kitten wrapped her arms around Claire and hugged her body up to Claire’s. Claire could feel Kitten’s naked tits against her back, and the smooth skin of her belly and thighs against her sore buttocks. Claire’s pussy began to get wet, despite Claire’s best intentions. It’s the cordial, she thought. It has an aphrodisiac in it. But nevertheless she found it hard to concentrate on the movie, and on a few occasions she found herself involuntarily thrusting her ass back against Kitten, and writhing to find a closer and more intimate position in Kitten’s hug. Kitten just giggled when Claire did this, and hugged her tighter, and rested her head against Claire’s neck, which felt good.

When Kitten had to piss she did it in the sink too, to make Claire feel comfortable, and Claire saw that Kitten’s pussy was wet too, even before the pissing. She saw it because she couldn’t help but stare at Kitten’s cunt as Kitten spread it before Claire’s eyes. She didn’t know why but she loved looking at that shaved, pouty little fuckhole, with the metal ring hanging from Kitten’s clitoris.

‘You’re so pretty,’ she sighed. Kitten blushed as she pissed. ‘Thank you,’ she replied.

The last movie Kitten put on was a porno. In it, three big-titted sluts kissed and licked each other, and were raped and abused by several men. It was a lot like many of the photos Claire categorised each day and work, and didn’t seem strange to her for Kitten to put on – although by this time she’d had three glasses of the rum-infused cordial.

It was a different experience watching with another girl, though. They both laughed at the action on the screen, calling the girls dumb sluts, and discussing how they deserved to be raped considering the slutty clothes they were wearing and how wet their pussies turned out to be. They cheered as the men slapped the girls and held them down and raped them, and giggled as the women cried. Claire’s cunt was soaking wet and she knew that her pussy juices were running down her thighs and soaking into the bed but she didn’t much care because she could feel Kitten’s own wetness on her buttocks. Every time Kitten wiggled, Claire felt Kitten’s nude cunt brush her ass cheeks, leaving behind a smear of cunt-honey. And it was good to share this slutty entertainment. It made her feel less embarrassed and uncomfortable about it to watch it with another girl and have fun. She wiggled her own ass and felt Kitten’s twat lips and clit ring leave a sticky smear on her butt.

Near the end of the movie, Kitten unbuttoned Claire’s shirt and removed it, ‘to get her ready for bed’, and Claire didn’t object. Nor did she object when Kitten removed her bra. The movie was nearly over and Claire felt sleepy. It was well past midnight.

She yawned. ‘I wanna sleep, Kitten,’ she said in a small voice.

‘You fall asleep, honey, I’ll get you ready,’ said Kitten. A moment later she felt Kitten’s hands softly cupping her udders. The hands were wet and Claire realised it was Kitten’s cunt juices she was feeling. Kitten was smearing her pussy slime on Claire’s tits. Claire knew she should object, but she felt so tired. And it felt good. She let Kitten rub the sticky slut juices all over her fuckbags. The smell of cunt wafted up to Claire’s nose and she couldn’t help but breathe it in.

Then she felt a pressure at her groin. She panicked for a moment but then realised it was her training device. She parted her legs to let it in, and Kitten deftly slid it into her sopping wet rape-tunnel. Claire sighed with pleasure, and then gasped as Kitten playfully pulled it out a little and then pushed it back in. Claire clamped her legs shut on the rubber tool to stop Kitten from doing that again. Kitten only giggled, and then put the earbuds of the training device in Claire’s ears.

‘You are a slut,’ said the earbuds. ‘Claire is a slut. Claire is a rapetoy. Claire likes being raped.’

Kitten got up, turned out the lights, and then climbed back into bed, this time in front of Claire. She reached forward and kissed Claire gently on the lips. Claire was so tired and so horny, she just kissed Kitten back.

‘You like to suck cock. You like to drink cum. Claire likes to drink cum. Claire’s tits deserve to be beaten,’ said the training device.

And with that, Claire fell asleep.

The night passed.

‘Wake up slut! Wake up slut!’ screamed the training device in the early hours of the morning. Claire jerked upright.

Kitten looked up at her sleepily. ‘Oh, hang on,’ she said, and reached between Claire’s legs. Her touch was electric on Claire’s engorged over-stimulated twat. But she was only reaching for a small switch on the vibrator. Immediately the voice stopped yelling and returned to its normal routine.

‘Claire likes being naked. Claire likes being abused. Claire deserves to be raped. You deserve to be raped. Sluts deserve to be raped.’

Kitten used her left arm to gather Claire close into a hug. ‘Go back to sleep, honey,’ she said, and kissed Claire on the lips. Claire did, gratefully, not even really noticing that Kitten’s right hand was still resting between Claire’s legs.

When Claire woke up again the sun was up and Kitten was perched between Claire’s exposed legs. The vibrator was still working in Claire’s twat and the voice was still telling her how much she enjoyed having her tits whipped. Kitten held a razor, and was gently shaving Claire’s twat, cleaning away the hair that had grown back since Claire last shaved.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Claire.

‘Just tidying you up,’ said Kitten. ‘I did my own while you were sleeping.’

Claire waited with her legs spread while Kitten finished shaving her. Claire was scared to move because of the razor, which somehow made the whole experience more intense. She felt herself vibrating on the edge of an orgasm, breathing heavily. She knew that everything that was happening was weird, was slutty, but she didn’t know what to do instead.

When Kitten was done shaving Claire, she started to run her hands over the skin around Claire’s pussy, scooping up the thick sticky fuck slime that had been oozing from Claire’s twat since last night. When she had her fingers dripping with the stuff, she lifted them to Claire’s lips. ‘Lick,’ she said. Claire opened her mouth and Kitten put her fingers inside. Claire sucked her pussy juices off Kitten’s fingers. It tasted good, and she eagerly repeated it when Kitten scooped up another load of twat slime.

Kitten kept going until the skin around Claire’s pussy was comparatively dry. Sometimes she put the cunt nectar in her own mouth but mostly she fed it to Claire.

‘You like lezzing off with other sluts. Claire likes having cum on her tits,’ said the training device.

When Claire’s twat was dry, Kitten got a roll of duct tape, snapped off a short length, and pasted it down across Claire’s cunt. It sealed the training vibrator inside her.

‘What…?’ asked Claire.

‘You’re not allowed to wear panties, right?’ asked Kitten. ‘But the vibrator feels good and there’s no reason to take it out while you’re visiting me. So this will hold it in. Just rip it off when you need to piss and I’ll put some more on when you’re done.’

Claire needed to piss right now but she decided to hold it in for a while rather than spoil Kitten’s well intentioned work.

When Claire got up she put her shirt and skirt back on. With daylight coming through the window it felt wrong to be nude. Then she and Kitten did Kitten’s morning exercises.

There were stretches, jumps and running in place on the treadmill. Claire did it all with the vibrator humming in her twat and the earbuds telling her all the things she liked to have stuffed up her cunt. Kitten did them with a small weight on a string clipped to her clit ring. Kitten gasped every time her activity made it bounce painfully. She was, of course, totally nude.

By the time they were done they were both drenched in sweat and horny, their pussy lubricant drooling visibly down their thighs. They stopped to clean up.

Kitten went outdoors nude and showered with the hose at the side of the house. Claire watched enviously, but couldn’t bring herself to hose her cunt outdoors by the bright light of day.

Instead Kitten came back in and ripped the masking tape off Claire’s pussy. It hurt and Claire gasped in pain. When it was off, Claire said she needed to piss. She went to pull out the dildo but Kitten made her leave it in and so she ended up squatting above the sink and pissing while the vibrator buzzed inside her sopping wet fuckhole.

Afterwards Kitten went to clean her again by scooping her slut nectar up to her mouth but Claire stopped her. She was worried her friend’s hands on her hypersensitive slit would make her cum embarrassingly. Instead Claire cleaned herself, scooping up a palmful of slut honey with her hand and then licking her hand clean. She found she liked the taste.

By the time she was done she felt she might orgasm from the slightest touch but her pussy was at least drier. Kitten offered to drive her home.

Claire left the dildo in all the way home at Kitten’s insistence, trying to ignore the slutty words in her ear and the buzzing in her whore-mound. When they got to Claire’s street they stopped several houses away so that Claire could pull the vibrator out of her twat wipe it clean on Kitten’s skirt and then quickly clean her pussy again with the hand and mouth method. She knew she still smelled like wet cunt but she was hoping no one would notice until she could get into the shower.

It was not to be, though. When Claire said good bye to Kitten and went inside, her father was waiting for her.

‘Is something wrong?’ she asked, seeing her father seated on the couch.

‘No,’ said her father. ‘But you know the rules; I need to check you for panties.’

‘I’m not wearing any!’ she protested.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘I need to check.’ He walked over and lifted up Claire’s skirt as Claire blushed hotly.

He looked at her nude pussy for long minutes. Claire knew he had to see her arousal. Her pussy felt enflamed; her labia engorged. Despite her best efforts her slut slime was oozing out of her fucktunnel and running down her inner thighs.

Her father said nothing, though, about her pussy. Instead, he said, ‘Why don’t we get your spanking for today out of the way?’

Claire didn’t want to do that. She wanted to go and shower. Or masturbate, then shower. Really all she could think about was her cunt. But she couldn’t say that, so she just said, ‘Okay,’ and let her father lead her over to the couch.

He sat down, then pulled up her skirt and pulled her over his lap. Somehow she got tangled up so that one of her father’s knees was right between her legs, pressing into her crotch.

WHACK!

Her father’s hand landed on her ass. Claire’s cunt was pushed hard against her father’s knee. Claire moaned involuntarily as the hard bone of his knee ground against her sensitive twat.

WHACK! WHACK!

Again and again he spanked her ass. Again and again his knee pressed painfully hard into her slutflesh. Claire couldn’t help herself. She was moaning like a whore. She felt herself spreading her legs to give her father better access to her ass. She found herself arching her buttocks in the hope of getting her father to land a blow on her cunt. Her pussy was on fire and she just wanted her father to hit her harder.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Finally Claire went over the edge. Her whole body shuddered as she orgasmed. She made a long slutty moan, and then started to cry. She cried as she orgasmed. Her ass was on fire and she had just cum like a disgusting slut on her daddy’s knee.

Her father spanked her a few times more and then let her up. Claire saw that she had left a sopping wet patch on her father’s trouser leg where her cunt had rested against it. She looked at her father through tear-streaked eyes.

‘Try and keep your vagina cleaner in future, Claire,’ was all he said, ‘or we may have to look at other punishments.’

Claire was stunned. Was that all he had to say about her orgasming from being spanked? How could he not yell at her for being a slut? She staggered away, mind in chaos.

Already she was feeling slutty and guilty, as she often did after coming down from arousal. She headed straight for the bathroom and showered. No matter how much water she directed at her twat it didn’t feel quite clean. She cried and cried and thought about what she’d done over the last 24 hours.

She’d gone out without panties. She’d gotten naked in front of another girl. She’d enjoyed a drink made out of piss and cunt juice. She’d kissed another girl. She’d watched porn. She’d pissed in a sink while her friend watched. She’d slept naked with another girl. She’d exercised with a dildo in her twat. She’d let her friend feed her her own cunt juices, and then licked them off her own hand as well. She’d orgasmed from being spanked by her father.

It was all worse than anything Titcage had made her do. Were they right? Was she just a slut, good only for raping? Did she just think with her pussy and her tits?

She cried for nearly half an hour, long after the water in the shower had gone cold. When she staggered out and dried off, she resolved to spend the rest of the day like a good girl. She kept her hands away from her pussy, she didn’t think about girls or sex or sluttiness, and she focused on boring mundane tasks like cleaning her room and watching the TV.

At night she ate dinner, then watched Steph get spanked. Mum made her look at Steph’s ass again but Claire tried to tune it out.

And then at night she climbed into bed next to her sister, waited for Steph to fall asleep, and then masturbated until she was wet enough to slide the dildo back inside her.

‘You’re just a fucktoy,’ said her earbuds. ‘You like being degraded. You like sucking cunt.’

Chapter 11

TRAINING WITH JIM

Monday morning, Claire lifted her skirt so her father could see she was wearing panties and then headed out to start her second – and hopefully final – week at Titcage.

When she got in, she discovered to her horror that she was the work again. Of course she should have realised there was a camera at Kitten’s. She’d even thought about it before. But she still hadn’t expected to see such a thorough record of her weekend sitting on her computer. There she was getting naked. There she was having her cunt shaved by Kitten. Here was where Kitten fed her her cunt juices, and here was where she was pissing in the sink.

Claire duly categorised each image, describing what a slut she was being and how she deserved to be raped. She talked about her slutty twat and her whore’s fuckmelons and how she was lezzing off with a rapeable little bitch. She tried to rise above it all, not taking it, but she could feel it settling into the back of her brain. She’d never thought of Kitten as a “rapeable little bitch” before but no sooner had she typed it than she found it impossible to get out of her brain.

Halfway through the morning Claire was called to Michael’s office.

‘Claire, I got a call from your mother on Friday,’ he said. ‘About your panties.’

Claire’s heart sank.

‘Apparently I’m to report to her on whether you’re wearing panties, or whether you have a naked cunt like a slut,’ he said.

Claire blushed and said nothing.

‘Do you think having a naked cunt is slutty, Claire?’ he asked.

Claire nodded.

‘And do you think you’re a slut, Claire?’ he asked.

Claire opened her mouth to say no, but what she said was, ‘Yes.’ It sounded right, as soon as she said it.

‘That’s good. I think you’ll do well at Titcage. Well, we’re going to resolve this dilemma like this. You’re going to take off your panties and give them to me, so you can be a good slut with a naked cunt. Then at 2 pm when I’m to call your mother, you can come in here, and I’ll give you some panties to put on so that I can truthfully tell her you’re wearing panties. Then you take them off again, and come back at the end of the day and if you’ve been good I’ll give your panties back to wear home.’

Claire didn’t know what to think. It was a horrid, degrading plan, but all she felt was grateful that he was going to tell her mother she was being good. She nodded her acceptance. He said nothing, and Claire realised what she needed to do. She pulled her panties down her legs, took them off, and put them on Michael’s desk.

‘Good slut,’ he said. ‘Now, we have one other thing to discuss.’ He pressed his intercom. ‘Twat, send Jim in.’

A moment later Jim entered the office. Claire blushed happily to see him, and then blushed unhappily when she realised her panties were still clearly visible on Michael’s desk.

‘Jim has a problem, Claire,’ said Michael. ‘He treats you like you’re a person.’

Claire was confused. ‘Jim just likes me, is all,’ she said.

‘Of course he likes you, Claire. You have big udders and you look like you’d be fun to rape. I don’t mean he doesn’t like you, I mean that he treats you like a person instead of a fucktoy.’

Claire was silent.

‘As you know,’ said Michael, ‘we expect certain standards of conduct from our male employees, just like we do from our female employees. They’re required to address women by talking to their tits or cunt, to remember that the status of women is above animals but below men, and to help women remember that they’re created to be raped and used.’

‘I…’ said Jim, but Michael cut him off.

‘You’re going to work with Jim, Claire,’ said Michael. ‘He’s going to take you off cataloguing duty and show you how to do some of our social outreach work. In return you’re going to help him learn how to treat women.’

Michael stood up and walked over to a whiteboard. He started writing on it.

‘There will be three simple rules for Jim. One: he is to only look at your tits and cunt, never at your face. Two: he is to only address you as ‘twat’ or ‘cunt’, never as Claire. Three: he is going to take his cock out right now, and keep it out while he works, so you can see how he is reacting to you. Do it now, Jim.’

Jim blushed, but unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock. It was erect and bulging, six inches long. Claire was mesmerised. She’d never seen a boy’s cock in real life before, and now here was the cock of a very cute boy right in front of her.

‘Claire,’ said Michael, ‘if Jim forgets any of these rules, I’m not going to punish him. I’m going to punish you. You will be able to pick your punishment. Either Jim can whip your naked tits here in my office, or you can suck his cock until he cums, or I can report to your mother that you weren’t wearing panties.’

Claire was aghast. She was speechless.

‘Make sure he follows the rules, Claire,’ said Michael. ‘That’s all. You’re dimissed.’

‘Um, come with me, um… twat,’ said Jim, resolutely looking at Claire’s breasts. Claire blushed and followed him.

Over the next few hours Jim showed her how to do ‘social outreach’. It consisted of logging onto social media sites, forums, blogs and other internet destinations, and making comments that degraded, offended, threatened or demeaned women. They would log onto Facebook and make comments on photos of cute girls: ‘You look like you’d be fun to rape. Those fuckbags almost make up for your face. Legs like that make you almost deserving of swallowing a man’s cum.’ They would edit photos to add captions, such as ‘WHORE’ in large letters, or ‘Loves to drink piss’, and then re-post them. They would find photos of girls and re-post them on porn sites, or comment on news sites that prominent women had clearly fucked their way to the top. Claire turned out to have a natural talent for the kind of catty bitchiness it required.

All the time, Jim stood behind her, supervising. ‘That’s good, cunt,’ he’d say. Or, ‘Can you add that she probably fucks her dog, twat?’ And his cock was out and hard the whole time. Sometimes Claire felt it poking into the back of her neck, as she sat in her chair with him standing behind her. Or sometimes as he leaned in it would slap her cheek. Every time it touched her it left a little smear of his pre-cum on her skin, and every time he would gasp a little and his cock would twitch.

Finally near lunchtime Claire spun around in her chair to ask Jim something, and as she opened her mouth she felt his cock slip between her open lips into her mouth. Almost at once Jim gasped, and his hips bucked. Sperm began to spurt from his dick. The first glob went right into Claire’s mouth. When she pulled back in horror, the rest splattered over her face, hair, and cleavage.

Everyone in the office had seen. Everyone was looking at Claire, dripping with Jim’s spunk. She felt herself turning red. She tried to wipe the sperm away but only ended up with sticky hands.

Sluthole came over, grinning broadly. Jim was just standing there, as horrified and embrassed as Claire, his dick dripping. Sluthole took it in one hand, put her other hand on the back of Claire’s head, and pulled them together so she could wipe Jim’s cock clean on Claire’s cheek. ‘Like that, Jim,’ she said. ‘You use girls as your sperm rag, when you need one.’

When Jim’s cock had been wiped off, Sluthole pulled the traumatised Claire into the toilets. Claire was already crying with shame before they’d even stepped inside. When the door closed, Sluthole pulled off Claire’s clothes, then disrobed herself. She hugged Claire close, pressing her knee between Claire’s thighs, and then began to lick the sperm off Claire’s face.

Claire was too broken to resist. She’d liked Jim, and now she’d gone and been a total slut by accidentally putting her mouth on his cock. She’d made him cum in front of everyone. He must be so embarassed. He’d thought she was nice and now she’d just looked like a total whore.

She was so submissive in her shame that she didn’t even wait to be told. She started pissing against Sluthole’s leg, and Sluthole did the same shortly after. Sluthole’s hand dipped down to rub Claire’s clitoris, and when she’d licked all the semen from Claire’s face and neck she started to kiss Claire.

Claire didn’t cum this time, although Sluthole did. She was just left with a wet, aching pussy. When Sluthole left, Claire showered herself clean, vainly trying to get the sperm out of her hair, and when she’d done the best she could she dressed and went back to work.

When she came back out, Jim was looking at her guiltily, his cock still hard and out. He was, in fact, looking at her face.

‘Jim,’ she said, her voice still full of tears. ‘Look at my tits.’

He lowered his gaze. ‘Sorry, cunt,’ he said.

She sat back down and they went back to their work. And all the time she remembered the taste of his semen splashing inside her mouth. It had tasted good.

At 2 pm Claire got up and went into Michael’s office. Wordlessly, he gave her a pair of small cotton panties. They said ‘RAPE ME’ on them in pink letters across the crotch. Blushing, Claire pulled them up her legs. They were too tight, and rode right up her butt crack and into the crevice of her twat. Her labia splayed lewdly out to each side of the crotch, visible to the world.

‘Lift your skirt and show me,’ said Michael, and Claire did, blushing as he stared at the cameltoe in her pussy. She listened as Michael picked up the phone, rang Claire’s mother, and told her Claire was wearing panties like a good girl, all while staring at Claire’s groin. Then he put down the phone, pulled out his mobile phone, and took a picture of Claire. ‘For the record,’ he said. When he was done, Claire removed the panties and gave them back to Michael.

During the afternoon it seemed like Jim’s cock poked her in the cheeks and neck even more than it had in the morning. He stood right behind her, so that the warm thickness of his dick often rested right against her jaw. By the end of the day her cheeks and neck were smeared with a consistent glaze of his pre-cum. She was careful when standing up at the end of the day to avoid accidentally taking his penis in her mouth again. ‘Thanks for a great day, twat,’ he told her, staring at her tits. He extended his arms in a hug, and she awkwardly hugged him. Her boobs pressed against his chest, and she could feel his dick prodding at her groin, only her skirt standing between his phallus and her bare pussy.

At home Claire’s father checked her cunt; Claire had put her panties back on, so she got in no further trouble. Then he administered her routine spanking, which once again set Claire’s pussy to drooling. She ran up to the bathroom afterwards and masturbated to orgasm.

And at night she slept in bed next to her sister, with the vibrator pulsing in her twat, and the voice telling her, ‘Claire likes rape. Sluts deserve to be raped. Claire likes sucking cock.’

Chapter 12

THE TRAINING TAPE IMPROVED

The next day when Claire got to work, she went straight to Michael’s office and pulled off her panties.

‘Thank you, twat,’ said Michael. ‘Now put your training phallus in. I think you should be wearing it at work too.’

‘What, here?’ asked Claire, aghast. She had it in her purse, because she was scared of her sister finding it at home, but she needed to get herself wet before she could slide the large object inside her, and in any case she didn’t want Michael to watch her do it.

‘No, go use the toilets, that’s fine,’ said Michael, and Claire sighed in relief. He passed her a roll of duct tape. ‘Use this to keep it in. Report back to me once you’re set up.’

Claire was too happy to not have to shove the fuckstick inside her in front of her boss to think about objecting to using it at all. She went to the toilets (which were blessedly free from Sluthole) and tentatively rubbed her pussy until she felt herself getting moist. It seemed much easier these days than it had in the past. Once she was well lubricated, she slid the vibrator up her twat, gasping in pleasure at its thickness, and then ran a strip of tape from her butt crack to her waist to keep the device inside her. The vibrator immediately began to pulse, and Claire felt her pussy throb eagerly in response.

Mostly waddling, Claire made her way back to Michael’s office. Already the earphones were telling her she was a slut and a whore.

‘Thanks Claire,’ said Michael. ‘Now we’re taking you off normal duties today because we need your help to improve this training tape.’ He led her to a small room with a chair and a large TV screen. He motioned her to sit down in the chair. Then he took each of her arms and handcuffed them to the chair.

Claire jumped. ‘What are you doing?’ she exclaimed.

‘Nothing sinister!’ said Michael. ‘Calm down. We just want you to stay here until lunch.’ He hit a button, and images appeared on the screen. They were of a naked woman. It was a porn film. There was no sound.

‘All we want you do, Claire, is just listen to your tape, and repeat everything you hear the tape say out loud. We’re going to use it to make a better tape. Microphones will pick it up. Don’t worry, just enjoy your device and the film, and repeat what the tape tells you.’

He bent down, and hiked up the back of Claire’s skirt, so that Claire’s bare ass was against the chair.

‘Enjoy!’ he said, and left.

Claire wiggled. The handcuffs kept her tightly in place. On the screen, the naked woman was beginning to suck on a large, hard cock. A man’s hand was entwined in her hair, controlling the movements of her head. Claire felt the vibrator buzz happily in her pussy, and couldn’t help but moan again.

‘Claire is a slut,’ said the tape, so Claire said, ‘Claire is a slut.’ And then that wasn’t so bad, so she kept going.

‘Claire is a whore. Claire likes sucking cock. I like sucking cock. I like being raped. I like lezzing off with sluts. Sluts deserve to be raped. I deserve to be raped. My big udders are for fucking. I am a big slutty cow. I like my training tape. I like sucking cunts.’

Talking constantly was thirsty work; thirstier, when she considered how aroused the vibrator was making her and how constantly her cunt was drooling. Every half an hour, Michael came in and gave her a glass of cordial. The cordial was different to her usual drink – yellower, and tarter – but she drank it down thirstily.

She soon felt her bladder growing uncomfortably full. She needed to piss. She mentioned it to Michael the next time he came in but he ignored her. And he ignored her the time after that. Finally, near noon, Claire, crying, pissed herself, feeling the warm urine pool on the chair and then drip down to the floor. The stimulation of her cunt caused by the pissing was all she needed to finally orgasm. She felt the pleasure run through her as she sat there pissing herself, shuddering all through her body from the cum.

‘I am a slut. I am a fucktoy. My cunt deserves to be punished,’ she said hoarsely between sobs, barely able to watch the sex on the screen through her tears. It was maybe the twelfth or thirteenth time she had repeated those words. They felt familiar now.

Not long after Claire pissed herself, Michael came in and set Claire loose. He didn’t comment on the urine on the floor. He just uncuffed her, thanked her, and told her to go back to her normal job.

Claire was intercepted on the way to her desk by Sluthole. ‘Where have you been?’ said the cruel minx as she pulled Claire into the toilets. Inside, she was disappointed to find that Claire’s pussy was sealed with tape, and that Claire had recently voided her bladder. She pissed on Claire’s leg anyway, and seeing as she couldn’t rub Claire’s twat she instead grabbed Claire’s nipples through her blouse and painfully twisted them while she tongue-kissed Claire’s mouth.

Afterwards, back at her desk, Jim said, ‘You know, she can only boss you around because she’s a higher grade than you. She’s a W. If you were a W you could say no.’

Claire turned in her seat to look at Jim. His cock rested against her left cheek as she looked up at him. She could feel it oozing slime onto her skin.

‘Look,’ said Jim. You’re a Z now, but you could be a Y at least. Look at this.’

He showed her a card:

Y Grade

Presentation:

– Dresses appealingly.

– Has camera installed in bedroom and does not attempt to avoid appearing in front of it.

– Keeps cunt shaved.

Attitude & Obedience:

– Is polite to others.

– Does not express feminist viewpoints.

– Does not ask other women to wear more clothes or act less sluttily.

Toileting:

– Uses standard Titcage toilets appropriately while at the workplace (pisses standing onto floor and is not bothered by presence of other women).

Masturbation:

– Masturbates at least four times a week.

Treatment of sluts:

– Addresses other female Titcage employees by their shortened Titcage names.

Treatment of men:

– Replies when spoken to.

– Listens attentively when men speak to her.

‘Do you fit that?’ he asked.

‘Most of it,’ said Claire, blushing, realising that she was admitting to masturbating four times a week. In reality it was more like seven or eight times a week at present but there was no need to say that.

‘Most of?’ asked Jim. ‘What are you missing?’

‘I… hide from the camera in my room, most times,’ said Claire. ‘I get dressed after showers in the bathroom and… stuff.’ I masturbate in the toilet, not my bed, she thought.

‘Well, stop that. And then go see Michael and ask for a promotion. You deserve it.’

It sounded like it might free her from Sluthole. Claire looked up at Jim gratefully, her eyes wide and loving. The motion made Jim’s penis bounce across her jaw and land on her mouth.

Slowly, Jim reached out and held the back of her head. Claire tried to pull away, but his hand wouldn’t let her. He pulled his hips back, and then slowly pushed them forward, rubbing his cock across her chin and lower lip. She opened her mouth to complain, and then Jim pushed forward a bit more, just into her mouth, and orgasmed.

Once again sperm flew into her mouth and splattered across her face. It was warm and sticky and humiliating and it tasted good. This time Jim didn’t look shocked. ‘Thank you, twat,’ he said, looking down at her tits gratefully as he shuddered with ecstasy. ‘Thank you. You’re wonderful. You’re such a good cunt.’ He continued holding her hair for long minutes while his cock pumped out the last of his semen, and then finally he released her. He scooped a little cum off her face with his fingers, and then pushed it into her mouth. Not knowing what to do, Claire sucked on his fingers.

‘Good twat,’ said Jim again, and then backed away.

Claire didn’t know what to think as she showered off. He’d cum all over her face. On purpose! It was gross! On the other hand he must have been as horny as she was, being teased all day by her face bumping against his cock. She’d kind of been a tease. And he’d looked so loving afterwards. Like he really loved her. It had happened in front of everyone though – a boy had cummed on her! But no one had seemed to care.

She decided that maybe it wasn’t too bad.

At 2.15 she went into Michael’s office, put on her panties, got photographed, then took them off. And at the end of the day when she went in to get her panties back, he had a little surprise for her – a new tape.

She knew what was on it even before she put it on that night, after being spanked and masturbating. It was her own voice, telling her those awful things.

‘I am a fucktoy,’ said her own voice in her head. ‘I like drinking cum. I like licking pussy.’

Chapter 13

PROMOTION

The next morning Claire didn’t hide from the camera. Anyone who could see through that camera had already seen much worse, here and at Kitten’s house. She strode around her room nude, making sure the camera got a good shot at her pussy. After her morning shower, she dressed in her room, stopping to rub her cunt a little for good measure.

At work she handed her panties in to Michael. Before going to the toilets to insert her trainer, though, she told him she wanted to be promoted to Y grade.

‘Of course!’ said Michael. ‘I’m glad you’re finally engaging with the Titcage program, Claire. You’re meeting all the criteria, so I’ll get your new ID printed immediately.’

As he printed the new ID, he said, ‘I assume this is about Sluthole? You want to not be her underling anymore?’

Claire nodded, silently.

‘Well, she’s an X, Claire. That’s another grade up. Do you know the criteria for the next grade?’

‘No,’ admitted Claire.

‘Here,’ said Michael, and passed her a card.

X Grade

Presentation:

– Never wears anything more concealing than a short skirt and panties below the waist.

– Is fit and has an attractive body.

– Spends at least 12 waking hours a week without panties.

– Does not own any underwear that is not sexually appealing.

– Wears dog collar bearing Titcage name while at work.

Attitude & Obedience:

– Defends objectification of women as justified, if asked.

– Claims own degradation makes her happy and is justified, if asked.

Routine:

– Ensures all housework and cooking in her household is performed by women.

Toileting:

– Never pisses while sitting on a standard toilet.

Masturbation:

– Masturbates at least six times a week.

Treatment of sluts:

– Ensures tits and twat are seen by a non-related female for reasons other than professional at least once a week.

Treatment of men:

– Compliments men regularly.

– Does not enter arguments with men.

Afterwards, as Claire sat in the lunchroom with her trainer buzzing in her twat, she talked about it with Kitten.

‘It’s not as bad as it looks,’ said Kitten. ‘Look, you already wear a skirt to work, and you don’t even have panties. You’re fit, and you’re pretty…’

Claire blushed. Kitten continued.

‘Your father MAKES you spend more than 12 hours without panties, so that’s covered.’

‘I’d need to throw out all my boring white panties,’ said Claire. ‘But that’s not so hard. But what about this? The Titcage name?’

‘That’s like my Kitten, or Girl, or Melons. You just have to go see Michael and he’ll choose one for you. And then they’ll give you a collar to wear it on at work.’

‘What about this attitude stuff?’ asked Claire.

‘Well, if anyone asks you why you have to piss standing up at work, or have a nickname, or whatever, you just say it’s because you deserve it. And if they ask you if you like having the trainer in your pussy, or having everyone stare at your tits, you say you do. It’s simple.’ Kitten put a reassuring hand on Claire’s shoulder. ‘You can do this, Claire.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Claire doubtfully.

‘Okay, so routine,’ said Kitten. ‘Just make sure your dad doesn’t do any housework. Volunteer for a few extra chores. And then here, you just have to piss at home like you do at work. Do it in the shower, it’s easy. And I bet you already masturbate six times a week.’

Claire blushed. She definitely did. At least daily, these days, and often twice or three times.

‘And everyone sees your twat when you piss,’ added Kitten. ‘You should just take off your shirt too, and you’ve got that covered. Or if you don’t you can come over to my place and get naked with me.’

The thought of that made Claire’s pussy twitch happily. She ignored it.

‘And then just be nice to men,’ said Kitten. ‘There, see? Easy.’

Claire worked through the morning, with Jim standing behind her with his hard cock out. She took care to compliment him several times. ‘You’re a good teacher,’ she said. And, ‘Your cock is warm!’ and ‘I’m glad you’re here.’ She enjoyed the feel of his pre-cum rubbing over her face. She knew it should feel slutty but at the same time she knew it was only because Jim found her attractive. It was like a compliment.

She had to piss with Sluthole again. This time Sluthole just ripped off Claire’s duct-tape, making her howl with pain, and then started pushing the training phallus in and out of Claire’s twat while kissing her and ordering her to piss. Claire ended up having the odd sensation of urinating while having her cunt fucked by a dildo, and then orgasmed embarrassingly at the end.

When she was done, Sluthole whispered in Claire’s ear, ‘I know you’re trying to rank up, slut. Don’t even think about trying to get out of being my little piss-bitch.’

Back at her desk, she worked until noon. Near noon, Jim grabbed the back of her chair and spun her around to face him. Then he reached out and grabbed her hair, and rubbed his cock across her lips urgently. Claire knew what was coming, and tried to turn away, but she couldn’t. Jim came, and pumped his sperm all over her face. Afterwards, he thanked her again, in that loving, deeply grateful way. ‘Thank you twat. Thank you. You’re such a good slut. God, you’re so good.’ He wiped his cock clean on her face, and then told she was free to go and clean up.

At 2.15 she removed her trainer and went to Michael’s office to wear some panties. These ones had a little rubber bump attached to the inside rear. When she put them, she found it rested right against her anus, and the tightness of the panties made it keep pressing against her butthole trying to get in. Michael made her walk around the office wearing it, took some photos, and then let her take it off.

‘I need a Titcage name,’ said Claire as she handed him back the panties.

‘Oh, excellent,’ said Michael. ‘Your name will be Fucktwat. The girls can call you Twat for short. I’ll have girl bring your collar around to your desk when it’s made up. Now, remember, now that you have that name, you’re not to introduce yourself as Claire anymore. You’re Twat.’

It was an awful name, and Claire felt like crying as she went back to her desk. Jim saw she was distressed, and gave her a big hug. Somehow his cock got under her skirt and she felt it touch her pussy, leaving a little dot of pre-cum on her labia. She didn’t care, she just appreciated the hug.

She got the collar about an hour later and put it on. ‘It looks good on you, Twat,’ said Jim.

At the end of the day Jim came on her face again. This time as Jim was wiping his cock clean on her cheek, Sluthole came up and slapped Claire on the back of the head.

‘Thank him, Twat,’ she said. ‘He’s just given you a compliment by cumming on you.’

‘Thank you,’ said Claire awkwardly, still trying to clear semen out of her eyes.

‘You’re welcome,’ said Jim.

Before Claire got home she put on her panties and took off her collar and trainer. Her father inspected her pantied cunt, then turned her over his knee for a spanking.

Today, when he was done, he wiped his hand across Claire’s groin, and then brought it to her face. Her father’s fingers were dripping with Claire’s slut-honey. He wiped them clean on her cheek.

‘I told you if you didn’t keep your pussy dry we might have to investigate further discipline, Claire,’ he said quietly. ‘It looks like your ass isn’t the part of you that needs punishment. Starting tomorrow, it’ll be your vagina that gets the spanking.’

He let Claire up. She ran to the bathroom and masturbated herself to a very quick orgasm. The thought of her father beating her pussy made her disturbingly aroused. She hated herself for cumming after being told her father would spank her cunt but she couldn’t help it. She had to touch herself; her twat needed it.

That evening Claire went through her underwear drawer, collected up anything that she wouldn’t want a boy to see her wearing, and threw it out. All that was left was her pinkest, skimpiest panties. Her underwear drawer looked slutty now, she thought.

When she pissed before dinner she did it in the shower, stripping, pissing down her legs into the drain, and then washing her pussy clean. After she dressed she had to jump in to stop her father helping with carrying the food to the table; Claire did it instead.

At night she climbed into bed, waited until her sister had fallen asleep, and then gently rubbed her cunt until she was wet enough to take her dildo.

The next day she was promoted to X grade.

Claire was beaming all over as she stood in Michael’s office. She had removed her panties and put on her collar that said ‘Fucktwat’, and she didn’t think she had ever been so proud as when Michael gave her her new X-grade ID. He even patted her on the head and called her a good slut, which should have been embarrassing, but at this stage was just the way Michael was.

She took great pleasure in telling Sluthole no when the sexy little bitch tried to take Claire to the toilet. ‘I hope you get raped like you deserve to, you slutty little cow,’ she said, and enjoyed watching Sluthole’s face go purple with rage. It felt so good that when Claire finally did piss, an hour later, she took the time to massage her pussy a little while she pissed, pushing her dildo deeper inside her cunt and rubbing her clitoris.

Jim came on her face near lunchtime, once again spinning her around in her chair and gripping her hair while he rubbed his cock across her lips. Claire accepted it and thanked him as he wiped his cock on her face.

On her way back from cleaning the semen off, she stopped at Michael’s office to wear panties. He’d picked out an even smaller pair than previously for her – they looked like they were intended for a 12-year old. By stretching them she managed to get them on, although they only came up to her clitoris and dug deep into her ass crack, concealing nothing. Michael took a picture as she blushed, and then let her go.

After lunch, she noted with consternation that Jim wasn’t hard. Admittedly he’d just used up his spunk on her face but that hadn’t stopped him getting his erection back the past couple of days. Had she done something to turn him off? She surreptitiously rubbed her cheek against his cock as she worked and soon found it once again hardening against her face in a satisfying way. He came on her again near home time. ‘Thank you,’ said Claire.

Chapter 14

BEN

At home she stood in the doorway as her father inspected her crotch. She was wearing the sexy pink satin panties she’d left home in. Her father grunted in approval, but rather than dropping her skirt back down, this time he dipped his fingers under the crotch band of her underwear, and probed into her pussy. Claire gasped in shock and more than a little pleasure, and then blushed as her dad’s fingers came back out wet, dripping with her whore-jam.

‘Take them off and sit on the kitchen bench with your legs spread,’ he said. Claire was still bright red as she climbed up and parted her legs, exposing her wet, nude, snatch. Her father stared at it for a few seconds, and then slapped it with his bare hand.

It hurt. It hurt a lot. And it was also wonderful. Claire had never realised how erotic having her cunt beaten could be. She moaned, and moaned again as her father slapped her pussy again. It felt great. Her father’s palm made wet splatting sounds as it landed on her juicy twat, splattering her fuckhoney over her thighs. She was dimly aware that Steph was watching from the stairs as she moaned louder and louder, and finally orgasmed, and then orgasmed again. On each of the last three spanks to her pussy she came.

When it was done, she felt the shame start to pour through her. She had never contemplated she could be such a whore – that she could show her pussy to her father, that it would be wet, that she would let him hit it, that the pain would make her orgasm. It was the sluttiest most disgusting thing she could imagine.

Her father, for his part, was wiping his hand, now soaked with his daughter’s slut slime, clean on his daughter’s face. Claire just let him coat her cheeks and nose and forehead with her own fuck goo. It was no worse that Jim cumming on her; by now it felt familiar and even affectionate to have sex juices on her face. He scooped handful after handful of love nectar from her quim and wiped it on her until she was completely covered. Then he pushed his fingers into her mouth for her to lick clean.

‘I need to clean up,’ mumbled Claire after she had sucked her father’s fingers clean.

‘No, you don’t,’ said her father. ‘Your friend Ben from school came to visit. He’s upstairs in your room. I did you a favour of not letting him come down to watch you being such a slut just now.’

Ben? Ben was her best male friend from school. What was he doing her? Wait, hadn’t he said he was going to visit over the holidays some day? Claire was still flushed from her orgasms. She knew she looked like a whore who’d just enjoyed a good rape. She needed to clean up. But Steph was already leading her upstairs.

‘It’s my room too,’ her sister was hissing in her ear. ‘I don’t know why you get to have your fuckbuddies up there but I can’t invite a girl. Just because dad knows I suck cunt doesn’t mean you should get all the special attention.’ She pushed Claire through the door to her bedroom, then turned and left her there.

There was Ben – big, blonde, friendly, sitting on her bed. It felt good to see him, but at the same time it was humiliating for him to be seeing her in this state. She and Ben had enjoyed many good times together with their other friends, before this horrible experience at Titcage had begun. She felt almost ready to cry, thinking back on those times, before she’d started being a horny slut all the time.

Ben brightened as he saw her. ‘Claire!’ he said, and extended his arms. Claire awkwardly hugged him, trying to keep her pussy from touching him. She didn’t think she could handle the stimulation of her groin pressing against a boy right now.

Ben hugged her for long minutes, then let her go. He looked at her, and he must have seen and smelled the glisten of sex juices on her face, but he said nothing.

‘Hi Ben,’ said Claire shyly. She knew Ben had always had a crush on her, but Claire didn’t return it. She’d tried not to encourage it either.

‘So how’s your holiday been?’ he asked.

‘Not much of a holiday,’ said Claire, sitting on the bed. ‘I’ve been working at Titcage.’

‘Really?’ said Ben, suddenly interested. ‘I hear they’re pretty… degrading to women there.’

Claire started to deny it, then remembered the requirements of her W grade. She didn’t want to go back to being pissed on by Sluthole.

‘Oh, it’s okay,’ she said. ‘I like it. And I deserve it.’

‘You deserve being degraded?’ asked Ben.

Claire was bright red.