The Committee Meets Again
“Up on the table, you know the rules.” Shelley wasn’t exactly sure she did know the rules, but the way her two co-workers were looking at her made her feel a little bit shy about asking too many questions when they seemed so very sure of themselves. She climbed up onto the conference table and crawled over to Jen and Rebecca with a meek, anxious look on her face, hoping she was impressing them with her diligence and professionalism even though she was still confused about something as simple and basic as what exactly this meeting was about.
“Now then,” Rebecca said, reaching out and yanking Shelley’s shirt down to her waist, “as you’re both aware, this is the weekly Titty Committee meeting. The role of this particular workgroup is to determine which girl is the dumbest, weakest, biggest-titted slut so that we can task her with the role of office cow for another week. Shelley, that’s been you for the past six months. Do you think your tits have gotten any smaller since last Tuesday?” Shelley’s eyes widened as she gaped at the other women in helpless astonishment. She didn’t remember any Titty Committee. She didn’t remember being the office cow. She didn’t know why two women she thought were her friends would pull her clothes off and treat her with such utter disdain, entirely out of nowhere.
They didn’t even sound like they were being cruel about it. In fact, Jen undid her own blouse, flopping her breasts out onto the table to show them off to the others, and Rebecca soon followed. “No, I’d say Shelley’s still got the biggest, heaviest udders out of the three of us,” she said, reaching out and giving Shelley’s pale, dangling tits an appraising heft as if she was evaluating a piece of livestock. “What do you think these are, twelve pounds each?” She squeezed Shelley’s nipple, and the brunette felt a sudden shock of familiarity as she realized this had all happened before. Every week, her calendar reminded her to come back to this exact same room, with these exact same co-workers. And every week, she left with her mind dazed and horny and too weak to remember any of it.
Rebecca grabbed Shelley’s other tit. “Oh, easily twelve pounds,” she agreed, groping the dangling breast with a casual possessiveness that made Shelley’s cunt leak despite herself. She abruptly realized she didn’t have any panties on under her skirt, and let out a tiny whimper of arousal as the touches and the degradation and the whole situation began to make her weak with arousal. “She’s way bigger than either of us. There’s no way we can take her seriously as anything other than a dumb, horny cowslut for the rest of the office to use.” Shelley’s memories began to fog over further, causing her to question everything she thought she knew about her regular nine-to-five job. Was she ever really working? Had she ever done anything productive in the last six months? Or did her brain automatically and instinctively substitute some boring and mundane routine for the hard, frequent fucking she was beginning to envision?
Shelley’s eyes glazed over, her brain once again gaslighting itself into believing the sound logic behind the other women’s evaluation. They wouldn’t say something like that if they didn’t believe it, she told herself. They wouldn’t believe it if it wasn’t true. “Meeting adjourned,” Jen said, pulling up Shelley’s skirt to play with her soaking pussy; and with that, Shelley slumped into blank, helpless compliance and prepared herself for another week of mindless obedience to her owners’ will.
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