Titcage (Chapter 20)

Claire woke up naked. She slept this way now, and usually with the sheets thrown back and the bedroom door open. It was part of her requirement for the Titcage V grade, which she was expecting to graduate to today. She knew it let her father see her when he walked past – and see Steph too, for that matter. But he’d never commented yet.

Steph was naked as well, and just waking up. Claire remembered her current rules, and immediately lowered her gaze from her sister’s face to her cunt. She was to stare at a slut’s cunt if exposed, or her tits otherwise. Looking at her sister’s cunt always made Claire wet now. She knew it was horrible and wrong but she couldn’t help it. She guessed it was to do with her work or her training tapes.

The tape was running now, telling Claire she was a slut, and her clit ring was still buzzing in time to it. Her twat was soaking wet and so Claire’s first thoughts on waking up were of sex. She lowered her hand to her pussy and started to rub.

At first she’d been reluctant to masturbate in front of her sister but Steph had insisted that she do it. Claire was required by her rules to masturbate twice a day now and she didn’t always get a chance at work. Better that Claire do it where Steph could watch out for her dad than somewhere where she’d get lost in her sluttiness and not see who was watching.

As Steph woke up, she leaned across and kissed Claire on the lips. This was new in the last few days too but Claire didn’t dare object. Steph was keeping her slutty Titcage secrets, and being really nice about it. Steph had just started kissing her, and Claire had let her. The past three mornings Steph and Claire had explored each other’s mouths with their tongues while Claire masturbated herself to orgasm. They only broke lip contact so that Claire could periodically bring her hands to her mouth and suck the cunt juices off them – another requirement of her V grade. Claire worried it would make her mouth taste like cunt, but Steph seemed to enjoy the taste when she resumed the kiss. And so Claire soon came while sucking on her sister’s tongue.

She showered and dressed and put on her Titcage dog collar. She then presented for her father to check on her. He lifted her skirt to see her panties, and then pulled them down to check her twat for wetness. It was indeed wet – as it always seemed to be these days. He made her lick her cunt juices from his fingers, and then made her spread her legs for ten sharp slaps to her pussy as punishment. She left the house with her cunt burning with pain and soaking wet.

At work she removed her panties for Michael, and received her new V grade Titcage ID. “Good work, Fucktwat,” said Michael. “Next stop is U grade.”

She looked over the criteria for U grade:

U Grade
Presentation:
– Does not own clothes that are not intended to provoke a sexual reaction.
– Someone other than herself touches her bare tits for non-professional reasons at least three times a week, and her twat at least twice.
– Spends at least an hour a week outdoors with her tits and/or twat exposed.
Attitude & Obedience:
– Encourages her male relatives, housemates, sexual partners and employer to physically discipline her if her work or behaviour is unsatisfactory.
Routine:
– Workmates uniformly call her by her Titcage name and this is the only way she introduces herself at work.
Toileting:
– Tastes her piss when pissing.
– Pisses outdoors at least three times a week.
– All urinations involve a secondary degradation.
Masturbation:
– At least half her masturbations bring her to the brink of orgasm without giving her release.
– At least five times a week she looks at porn of sluts being abused while masturbating.
Treatment of Sluts:
– Keeps at least one piece of porn of a slut being abused on her bedroom wall, one at her workplace, and one in her wallet.
– Regularly uses her Titcage rank to abuse or degrade another slut.
Treatment of Men:
– At least once a fortnight a male who has never seen her nude before sees her tits or twat.
– Has brought a male to orgasm.

The list was worrying but at this point she was resigned to the degradations of Titcage. She started to plan how to reach the next grade, while Michael got out her replacement ‘panties’ for the day.

He’d gotten bored of getting her to put on panties for only a couple of minutes a day last week. Now he helped her fulfil her mother’s requirement to wear panties by redefining ‘panties’ to mean some kind of accessory in her cunt region. He liked to give her things to stuff up her pussy for the day or hang from her clitoris ring.

Today it was a slice of cake. Apparently it was Michael’s birthday. He watched as Claire pushed the soft, doughy cake up her pussy, mashing it into a spongey, cunty mess.

‘All the girls have some of this in them today,’ said Michael. ‘At lunch we’ll all collect in the break room and you can dig it out of your twat and eat it to celebrate.’

Claire started crying then. It was so disgusting having cake in her pussy, and the thought of scooping it out and eating it in front of everyone was terrible. Michael comforted her by hugging her, which was nice at first, but then less nice when he reached down between her legs and started tugging painfully on her clitoris ring. ‘There there,’ he cooed. ‘Shut up, slut.’ And he kissed her gently on the hair and pulled at her clit.

Claire walked out to her desk with the cake mashing back and forth in her pussy. She had to keep reaching down to push it back inside her and stop it falling out. Once she reached her chair, she reached down and linked her clit ring to the ring on the chair, effectively chaining her cunt to the workstation.

Claire’s current project was part of a taskforce called “Slut Development”, aimed at helping girls in the wider community realise their sluttiness. Claire would take photos of girls being slutty and mail them out to the girls depicted. Sometimes the photos were real, culled from Facebook or other sources. Sometimes they were fake, with the girl’s face photoshopped onto the body of a naked whore. It didn’t seem to matter. Along with the photos, Claire would write a note to the girl. Her first note for the day read:

“Dear slut,
Please find enclosed a picture of you drunk and spilling beer on your fat, naked udders. You look very rapeable. Please find time today to strip naked and photograph yourself playing with your pussy. Email the picture to [email protected]. If we have not received your picture by the end of the day we will publish this photo to the internet, associated with your name and address, and ensure it tops Google searches for your name. A copy will also be mailed to your relatives and close friends.
Thank you for being the kind of whore that allows us to do this.”
In the afternoon, Claire would collate some of the responses to these letters. She had been told the letters and the email address couldn’t be traced back to Titcage in any way.

Claire’s pussy ring buzzed. It was linked to her electronic diary. It was supposed to vibrate her pussy to remind her of meetings and suchlike, but Claire’s colleagues liked to send her fake meetings such as “Think about what a slut you are” just to make her clit buzz. Sluthole in particular took a particular delight in making Claire’s twat tingle all day long. This particular meeting turned out to be, “Come to the toilet so I can piss on you,” from Sluthole.

No matter how high Claire climbed in the grades, Sluthole always seemed to stay ahead of her. The cute little blonde was now a T-grade, having finished telling the last of her male acquaintances that she fantasised about being raped. Claire obediently reported to the toilet, where a naked Sluthole stripped off Claire’s clothes, and then rubbed her cunt against Claire’s leg while pissing and kissing Claire on the mouth. Claire orgasmed, as she found herself doing from the least sexual contact these days. When Sluthole was done she ordered Claire to open her mouth, and when Claire did she spat in it, and then laughed.

Claire finished her own pissing, rubbing her clit as she did so for a second orgasm. She took care to catch some of her piss in her cupped hand and then lick it off her palm, to comply with her aspirations to U grade. It tasted gross but masturbating at the same time as tasting it made it less disgusting. Claire found that the endorphins released by masturbation made a lot of the horrible things in her working life less worrying. She knew some of the piss had trickled down her cunt and had probably soaked into the cake in her twat.

At lunch the staff gathered in the break room, and the men watched eagerly as one by one the girls dug the mashed-up cake out of their cunts and ate it, while everyone sang “Happy Birthday”. This was the first time Claire had publicly showed her twat to the office and it felt horrible. She cried as she at her cake. It tasted like piss and cunt and she felt sick.

Afterwards she stayed alone in the break room, crying. Jim came up to her and cuddled her for a bit. She could feel his hard cock through his pants, pressing against her groin. After a while, he slowly but insistently pushed her down onto her knees, then took out his cock and slipped it into her mouth.

Claire suckled on it gratefully, still sniffling a little. It felt good to be wanted, and good to make people happy, and anyway it felt right to have a cock in her mouth. It felt normal somehow, even though she’d never directly sucked on a cock despite all the times that Jim had ejaculated onto her face and into her mouth.

Jim came quickly, and Clare swallowed the sperm. Then Jim pulled out his cock, wiped it clean on her cheek, and helped her stand up. ‘Thank you,’ Claire kept repeating as she hugged him. She was an emotional mess and she just felt so grateful that Jim was there. ‘Thank you.’

In the afternoon Michael came out and introduced a new treat for the office girls. They were called ‘Slut Sticks’, and they were about the size and shape of an icypole – or about the size and shape of a cock, Claire couldn’t help thinking. They were a confection of white hard candy shaped around a stick, and were designed for girls to suck on. The candy was made mostly of hardened pig semen and sugar, with a lacing of aphrodisiac drugs. The candies had a liquid centre, which would randomly be sperm, piss, cunt juices, or breast milk. Michael finished up saying he expected to see every girl suck their way through a Slut Stick every day.

Obediently Claire went and got a Slut Stick with the other girls, and put the tip in her mouth to suck on. It actually didn’t taste that bad. It tasted a bit like the cordial, and a lot like Jim’s cum, and that was a taste Claire liked – or at least a taste that her headphones told her she liked. She clipped her cunt ring back to her seat, and then suckled thoughtfully on the pig cum candy while she finished her work for the day.

Her afternoon work was collating responses to the blackmail emails. Her inbox was filled with photos of crying, humiliated sluts rubbing their pussies in amateur self-taken photographs, along with accompanying emails begging Claire not to publish the photos. As per her instructions, she replied to each thanking the slut for the photo, and requiring yet another photo, even more degrading, to ensure the girl’s sluttiness stayed secret. In some Claire asked for the girl to stuff things up her cunt; in others, she asked to see the slut pissing, or with clothespegs on her nipples, or fingering her anus. As she sat here ruining these girls’ lives, with the taste of pig cum in her mouth, she knew she should feel terrible, but she just felt aroused and horny.

She felt so horny that on the way home she decided to get some of her new U grade requirements started. She walked home, and detoured into a public park, where she found a quiet corner and stripped naked. She knew this park, and knew that almost no one ever came here, so she felt reasonably safe.

Standing upright, she began to piss, feeling her urine spurt from her pussy and run down her legs. As she pissed, she masturbated, pulling at her clit ring and stuffing her fingers up her fucktunnel. She caught the last few drops of piss in her cupped hands, and brought them to her lips to lick up.

Then she lay down on the ground, oblivious to the fact she was lying in dirt soaked with her own pee, and fingered her pussy to the verge of orgasm. She thought about Slutkitten’s cunt, and her sister’s cunt, and the taste of her sister’s mouth, and the taste of her own cunt juices and urine, and having Jim’s cock in her mouth and the taste of his sperm. Soon she felt herself about to cum, so she reluctantly pulled her hand away from her twat, knowing that half her masturbations now needed to be teases, and put her clothes back on.

She figured she had been nude for about twenty minutes. If she did this three times a week she’d meet her new outdoor nudity quota easily, and in her super-horny edge-of-orgasm state she was positively eager to spend so much time naked outdoors. It felt slutty and good.

She thought through her other U-grade obligations. She would need to throw out her non-slutty clothes. The thought of only owning whore’s clothes made her feel scared and sad but she could always buy more normal clothes again when she stopped working at Titcage.

Slutkitten could be the one to touch her tits and twat the necessary number of times a week, or Steph could in a pinch, so that was easy. Her “male relatives, housemates, sexual partners, or employer” already physically disciplined her. Or did they? Did Slutkitten count as a sexual partner? Did Steph? Did Jim? Did Sluthole? She might need to talk to them to make sure.

All her pissing now was required to involve a “secondary degradation”. Michael had explained to her that meant doing something to make her pissing sluttier, and just tasting it didn’t count. She could piss in her clothes, piss in public, piss on food or drink she was about to eat, piss in another slut’s mouth, or – and this last was definitely the easiest – masturbate when pissing. Claire figured it wouldn’t be too hard to just finger her pussy every time she urinated.

She was going to need pictures of sluts being abused to look at while masturbating, and keep one in her wallet, one at work, and one on her bedroom wall. She figured she could easily find images like that at work, but she was worried about the “bedroom wall” requirement. No way would her dad let her do that. And it was Steph’s room too. She would have to think about that one.

She was required to use her Titcage rank to abuse or degrade another slut. Claire didn’t want to do that. First of all, she didn’t even know if anyone at the office was lower rank than her at the moment. Secondly, she didn’t know if she could hurt another girl. What would count? Could she maybe just squeeze another girl’s boobs whether she wanted them squeezed or not? Or would she have to act like Sluthole and practically rape another girl in the toilets? She would ask Michael, maybe, for advice.

And lastly were the requirements about men. She guessed she had brought Jim to orgasm only today, so that requirement was filled. But having a new boy see her tits or twat every fortnight? That was scary.

At home, her father checked her panties and her cunt as normal. When he found her dripping wet, he made her taste her juices, and then spanked her twat viciously. Claire, already on the edge from masturbating on the way home, orgasmed loudly and embarassingly from the spanking, and then ran away, blushing, to her room.

(To be continued…)