After we opted out of all things Europe, things kind of went downhill for human rights, as they were understood then, in this country. It’s hard to imagine that our second female Prime Minister would have been the driving force behind it, although given what she was like as Equalities minister and Home Secretary, maybe we shouldn’t have been that surprised.
The truly absurd thing was when she pledged to stamp out rape culture, we thought she meant through sterner sentences and things like that. The idea that it might be done by all but abolishing the notion of rape as a crime was a complete blindside. They called it the “Female Availability for Intimate Recreation Act”, or FAIR Act, for short.
Most people, when they imagined these dystopian futures seem to think that women losing control of their vaginas for sex would also become second class citizens as well, but largely that hasn’t happened. In the modern, service-based economy, women are a valued part of the workforce and remain so. I myself am a highly-respected and successful woman in my line of business, and even after almost 2 years of the FAIR Act my career is progressing nicely.
The rules are: “Any woman over the age of 18 must acquiesce either actively or passively, when asked for sex. A woman shall be deemed to have been asked if she has been informed of the intention to have sex with her. Sex shall be defined as any act involving contact of genitals with genitals, mouth, or anus. A woman who refuses sex shall be guilty of an offence under the Act, and may be sentenced to prison for a period not longer than 6 months. A woman shall be understood as being anyone legally identified as female or presenting themselves as female.”
Oddly, a lot of mainstream feminist commentariat focussed on the last criterion, as if the whole purpose of the FAIR Act was to make it legal to rape trans women to punish them for wanting to be accepted as women.
A lot of men were arrested for rape after the Act was passed because they didn’t understand it wasn’t law yet.
A lot of women were arrested the day after the law came into force because they hadn’t realised it was now the law.
I paid attention, though, and I worked out what I would do.
You see, I realised sooner than a lot of others that there would be men who would falsely accuse women of having said no, or having fought back. These “false rape” reports were widely reported in the press but juries tended to side with the accuser. At which point, we discovered that women found guilty under the FAIR Act were being incarcerated in male prisons.
Survival rates were quite low, but since they were maximum security prisons where the inmates were doing very lengthy sentences for violent and sexual crimes, there was little that could be done to prevent or deter further “accidents” like drowning in come from the fiftieth cock forced down her throat in 3 hours, or bleeding out from severe rectal trauma.
Yeah, after those reports came out, women were a lot less willing to test the law. Or protest it, since the cops could just as easily demand sex as anyone else, and similar accidents could occur at the police station with police officers, as in prison with convicts.
So, I planned in advance that I would always make sure I had a recording device when I was around men so that they could hear clearly my agreement when he asked me.
The other law came in about a year later, after it was reported that many more women were using contraception of various sorts as preventative measures, or “Morning After” pills. There was panic that the dropping birth rate might seriously damage the country in future unless something was done to maintain fertility. Rather than interfere with the free market directly by banning birth control methods, the government instead created a form of lottery. If your name came up, you would be informed that for the next four months, you were banned from purchase or use of any form of contraceptive device. This could be enforced by “stop and search”, and by making pharmacies and other retailers responsible for checking customers’ “Matri” status (for MATernity Rate Instruction).
I’ve dodged the bullet on that one so far. It’s only 1 in 10,000 women are chosen each time and it’s random so it’s entirely possible I’ll never be called.
The other Matri law is that husbands of women selected can pay for a special licence so that during the 4 months their wife is “on”, he’s the only one allowed to fuck her vaginally, thus guaranteeing any child produced is his. The cost is substantial and not available to the poorer community, of course. For most women who become pregnant under Matri, it’s pure guesswork to figure out which rapist is the genetic donor for her child.
And, by using the ‘R’ word there, technically, I’ve broken the law, too. But only slander. Since it isn’t rape if he says what he wants before doing it, it’s not rape. The case was heard in the civil courts and a feminist magazine and author were both ordered to pay substantial damages after describing a famous footballer as a rapist after he made use of FAIR Act early on in its life.
So, I carry a batch of morning after pills with me everywhere.
The other bit of planning was, I started taking a change of clothes with me everywhere I went. I refused to change my usual style as a matter of course, and stuck to my trouser suits and blouses. But I realised that if I was propositioned during the day, the chance of spillage or leakage spoiling the smartness of my outfit was quite high, so I carry a loose dress as well as a back-up. That way, I can change after the first one,. and the skirt lifts easily and makes it easier to strip right off if I get a second.
As I said, women remain a valued part of the workforce. Absurdly, sexual harassment remains an offence and against most work place codes of conduct. Even more bizarrely, it seems a lot of male workers still do it. There seems to be more of a thrill for them to pat a bottom surreptitiously than to say to a colleague, “Bend over the desk, I’m going to give you a quick fuck.” Even though the latter is entirely legal, and the former can lose them their job.
Yes, that’s happened to me a few times. I keep a bunch of wipes handy on my desk to mop up afterwards. I’ve heard some businesses have added fucking co-workers to the list of things banned under their codes of conduct. Apparently, some workers don’t like to see the act in progress (or hear it) and some employers believe it reduces productivity. Businesses where hygiene is important (food, medical, etc) also have strict rules about not using FAIR Act while in the work place!
Recently, George Alexander, my co worker, got promoted above me. He had always seemed shy, and I’d never heard of him using FAIR Act even. There was a particular contingent over the other side of the office were always bragging about how hot the young women were they’d “Matried” last night (some seemed to think that every woman was on Matri; others seemed to have a fetish for finding women who were on it and fucking them - even though theres only about 10 in the whole city on average!) George never seemed to share any stories though. His lean face, ginger hair and wispy beard didn’t make him very attractive, but his body had a slightly odd proportionality to it that was intriguing and sexy for that reason. Once or twice, I masturbated at home thinking about doing it in front of everybody if he would ask me, when we were equals at the office - and I’m basically a dyke. (More on that in a later story, perhaps.)
But now he was a tier above me. And he summoned me into his office. He didn’t seem shy any more. He actually looked haughty.
“Close the door, and place your phone on the desk,” he said. Shit. I assumed he was going to reprimand me for using it during work hours, even though everybody did. Instead, he reached over and turned it off. He stood up and moved around the desk until he was standing behind me. I have no idea how he pulled off the move so smoothly and with such perfect timing. If his hand had slipped into my pocket sooner, I could have had him for sexual harassment. A second later, and his plan would have been foiled.
“I’m going to fuck you in every hole, right here where no one can see us,” he breathed, and exactly as he said “fuck you”, his hand slipped into my pocket and turned off the digital dictaphone there. So it never recorded my, “Yes, George.” I was too busy to notice, as I started undoing my trousers, but he made it explicit, placing the device next to my phone and pointing out the blank, darkened, LEDs. His hands on my shoulders kept me seated as I wriggled out of my trousers.
“Just you and me now, Kitty darling, just my word against yours,” and he kissed my jaw just below my ear. I did my best not to shudder from his touch, and from the sickening thought of what he was implying.
“Please, I said yes. I’ll do what you tell me. There’s no need for that…” I stammered.
“I like some things that FAIR doesn’t cover, girl,” he told me, and then lifted me up to bend me over his desk. My head jutted off one side, my butt off the other, and he pulled my trousers down around my hips. George calmly undressed as my mind went wild. What could he mean by that remark?
“You’ll call me Mr Alexander from now on,” he told me, “And you will stay silent, unless you want me to report you for refusing my request. Any sounds you’re likely to make, will only back up my story. You will also never breathe a word about what I’m about to do, nor file any complaint regarding it. Are we clear?”
My head sagged in defeat, “Yes, Mr Alexander.” He patted me between the shoulder blades, “Good girl.”
He appeared in front of me. His cock looked long and thin and droopy, his pubes as ginger and as wispy as his beard. I subconsciously licked my lips. As cocks go, I thought it was actually quite nice. I just wished it wasn’t like this that I had to endure it. Mr Alexander opened the drawer of his desk and produced a thin rattan cane. I gasped. He tested it through the air and the whistling noise terrified me. It seemed to be only then that he started to harden.
I tried to plead with him not to do this, but he had commanded silence and I really could not bear the thought of prison. I might have been allowed to speak, but how could I risk it? I clung to the edge of his desk and screwed up my face waiting for the first lash.
I had no time to prepare myself when I heard the whistle of the cane through the air, before the fiery stripe streaked across my buttocks. My back arched and my fingers clenched, my eyes open in horror and my mouth in a silent scream. Now I understood why he had said any sound I made would support his accusation, if overheard.
“Count them, bitch,” his voice was uncharacteristically cold and hard.
“One, Mr Alexander,” I said.
“Not thanking me, Kitty?”
“I will if you want me to, Mr Alexander.”
He hummed for a moment. “No. It turns me on more to think you’re truly suffering under protest,” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Yes, Mr Alexander.”
He tapped my bottom with the cane to find his aim for the second stroke, which had me reacting just the same as before. It took me a moment to catch my breath.
“Two, Mr Alexander.” As soon as I finished speaking, the third stroke landed and I gave a sharp gasp.
“Shh,” he reminded me. I closed my eyes and recited, “Three, Mr Alexander.” My eyes were still closed when I felt something fleshy nudge my lips. I opened my mouth quickly around Mr Alexander’s cock. It seemed that caning me was getting him hard quickly.
“Just get me to full erection, Kitty, there’s a good slut,” he said. I would have scowled had iI had the freedom to, and that threat wasn’t hanging over me.
Mr Alexander did most of the work, sliding his cock in and out of my mouth. He was quite gentle about it, I didn’t gag once, and I worked diligently with my tongue, feeling him stiffen to his full girth rapidly. Again, I wished I could have tasted it under different circumstances - I might have enjoyed him then. But with tears of pain and shame and frustration pouring down my cheeks, that could never be now as any time I thought of it, it would be accompanied by this memory.
Satisfied, he withdrew. I felt the cane tapping my behind again. It took me a moment to remember what number I had reached. It came to me just in time: the very next moment, the blow struck and I squealed as quietly as I could make it, “Four, Mr Alexander!” Five, and six, followed rapidly afterwards, my bottom squirming and writhing after the last blow. Mr Alexander pushed himself into my cunt immediately afterwards. He wasn’t the thickest, nor the longest, I’d ever been fucked by since FAIR Act, but there was a curious twistiness to its shape that stimulated parts that many cocks didn’t seem to, or maybe just did so in a slightly different way. I cursed him in my heart - why did it have to be this way? If he’d done it when we were desk mates, I might even have come from a fuck like this. If he’d just asked me, instead of making the threats, using his managerial office…
I might not be going to come, but I knew how to use my cunt well. I wanted this over quickly, and I clenched my muscles rhythmically to stimulate him fully, subtly sliding my body on his cock in little circles and back and forth, adding to his thrusting. I felt if I did too much, he might punish me further. But instead, he just came suddenly and hard inside me.
“Dear Fuck, but you’re good,” he panted as his cock slid from my cunt, a trail of his come oozing into my panties and trousers behind it. He made me lick it clean - something I was used to by now, guys didn’t like to tuck their come-soaked cocks back into their clothes, a consideration they rarely gave us women. George even mopped my lips and face afterwards.
“You may go now,” he waved his hand from his seat. I stood up and pulled my trousers up, feeling his seed squelch in them. I returned my gadgets to their pockets in my jacket and made my way back to my desk to fetch my change clothes, trying not to wince from the painful welts on my bottom. Not giving away what had transpired would be the hardest part of all…
