Chapter 5

(In this chapter: Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, exhibitionism, breastplay, first)

1 (Content: exhibitionism, breastplay)

The time was early afternoon, just a little over halfway through Callie’s café shift. She sat side-saddle on the lap of a pale, skinny man with blue streaks dyed into his hair. He’d forgotten all about his coffee; his focus instead rested on her body.

She sat up tall, filling the order to show herself off. Her auburn hair hung free, curling about her chin and framing her young, cute-pretty face. Chin lifted, she invited the gaze down her neck and onto her torso. Naked above her skirt, her pose displayed her breasts openly: a bit bigger than a handful each, but flawless in shape, tipped with mid-sized, pink nipples, pert with excitement. Though they weren’t the biggest, her slim waist and narrow hips made her chest stand out more. Aside from her short, straight skirt, she just wore closed, flat shoes and short socks, leaving her smooth legs mostly bare.

Both hands worked her breasts, kneading with just enough pressure to make her squirm – all in the best ways. She could never help but enjoy her treatment at the hands (and other things) of her customers. Every so often, he turned his touch more directly to her nipples. There, he was gentler: just rubbing, or sometimes a little tweaking, something to highlight just how much her peaks had hardened under his attention.

“Perfect,” he said, his tone low and gushing. “Your tits are just perfect.” Under the programming’s spell, those words felt like high praise. She was doing a good job, even if her current profession was just ‘having breasts’.

But then he made his special request. “You should stay topless all day.” The words fell from his mouth without a care, as if he didn’t think anything of them.

Callie thought for sure that would cross some line. That would go beyond what her job could ask of her, and she could finally refuse something. Instead, her mouth moved in automatic response. “What exactly do you mean, ‘all day’?”

He seemed surprised, like he hadn’t expected her to take the suggestion seriously. But as he thought about it, she felt further stirring in his lap, hard and poking into her thighs. He shifted his hands to the sides, kneading the flesh of her breasts while her nipples poked out between his thumbs and forefingers. “Ten o’clock,” he said. “Wouldn’t want to just end at sundown, that’s a waste. But no need to go all the way to midnight; you’re not Cinderella.”

She checked the clock. That would be almost eight hours of exposure, most of which when she’d be otherwise off work. The request was totally unreasonable by any decent standard, and she was already resigned to it before her mouth finished quoting the price for her. She didn’t even pay attention to the number – a couple hundred dollars, something like that.

The blue-haired customer just smiled. One hand stayed on her chest while the other fetched his wallet. “If I get these things shared around more, it’s well worth it.”

Oh, how generous of him. Where did these guys get so much money to burn at the café? Callie took the cash and slid off his lap to put it in the register.

Afterwards, she felt ... strange. Most orders were positive, giving her something she had to do. This one gave her something she had to not do. Her shirt was already off, so she didn’t need to do anything else to fill the order. She just had to keep that shirt off for the next eight hours.

She walked, carefully and smoothly, back to the blue-haired man. Moving slow was the only sure way to reduce ... vertical motion. “Is there anything else I can get for you, sir?”

He took his time answering. For one thing, her toplessness distracted him. “A slice of that pie,” he eventually said. “I want to stick around for some of this show.” Of course. Voyeurism, to go with the exhibitionism he asked from her.

Another two customers had just arrived. Callie took some initiative, gliding over to their table. “Welcome to Essex!” she said. “How can I—”

“Whoa,” said the more baby-faced one. They both looked, but he stared more openly. “Could you walk up again? But do it more, uh, skippily?”

Her cheeks started to fume. Not that he’d see her blushing, with that much focus. “That sounds like a waste of—”

“Five bucks,” said his leaner-faced friend, holding out the note in one hand.

Callie took it, of course. She managed to walk more smoothly while leaving the table, but then she turned and skipped back towards them, with the exact bouncing she’d been trying to avoid. Yet somehow, it didn’t feel as uncomfortable as she’d thought. The programming balanced it out: she did what she was told, with the happy, psychological rewards, and that overcame any simple physical problems. And going by the smiles on the customers’ faces, they really enjoyed just that bouncing show.

“Welcome to Essex,” she repeated. “What can I get you?”

The baby-faced guy hadn’t taken his eyes off her body. “First off, I’m going to need a number 3.”

His sleeker friend nodded. “Yeah, one for me, too.” They both already had their cash on the table.

“Number—of course.” Her hands lowered, opening her up. “Go right ahead.”

Immediately, hands were on her breasts. She wasn’t Sarah-sized, so they had to take turns: a few quick squeezes from one, then the other, then it was done. That was the limit of number 3: no more than a quick grope, with her exactly as she was. Number 2 could get her shirt off and last longer without costing too much more, so it was usually more popular. But with her clothes already out of the way...

She was going to get a lot of number 3 orders for the rest of this shift, wasn’t she?

The original, blue-haired customer watched with a lascivious smile on his face. He beckoned to her.

This time, nothing told her how to walk to him. She moved smoothly while she could, and brought one arm up to cover her chest. That didn’t last long: invasive thoughts chipped away at her for as long as she kept herself modest. Simply ‘lacking a shirt’ wasn’t enough to satisfy her compulsion to be topless, and by the time she reached his table, she again had her arms at her sides and her breasts in the open air.

“You’ll want this,” he said, offering up her apron while her shirt and bra still lay on the table.

She gave him a hard stare, but took the apron regardless. Wearing it wasn’t part of the command. It was her own choice to put the apron back on, though her compulsion guided just how she wore it: tied low, such that the upper edge rested squarely below her bust. Those breasts really were the star of her show. The compulsion didn’t nag at her about being covered from the waist down, as long as her tits were still bare. She couldn’t get modesty, but that apron could still make itself useful.

Within an hour, the front pocket overflowed with small notes. Every customer she’d met had asked for at least a number 3. Every pair of hands to come through the café knew what it felt like to touch her chest. That option was always on the table, but her nudity had emphasised it and made her too tempting to resist. Not everyone grabbed and squeezed. The customers’ attention was as individual as the customers themselves: some squeezed, some caressed, some tweaked or pinched her nipples. It created a smorgasbord of sensation for her, something she could never get used to and thus bored of.

Yet, nobody ever asked for more than that. Her topless state made them think of her tits, and they didn’t think past that. The constant touches kept her arousal revved high, but nobody shifted it into the next gear. She barely kept her hands steady enough to make and deliver the coffees.

And that blue-haired man only smiled all the wider as he watched every grope he’d inspired. Even after he’d finished his pie, he stuck around, for two hours.

He was still there when Callie finished her shift. Once she clocked off, she swung by his table.

He smiled at her, looking straight-on to keep his eyes on her chest. “Come to say goodbye?”

It’d just be rude to rain straight on his parade. Even off the clock, being rude to customers wouldn’t be smart. She sometimes wondered if that customer-service attitude had been part of the hypnosis, along with her drive to service customers. She gave him a tight smile and reached for the bra and shirt still draped over the table surface. “And to get my clothes.”

He drew his gaze away from her and onto the piled clothing. “Of course. I should get going, myself. Have a fun night, Callie.” He walked out the door with a smile on his face, happy with what he’d seen and happier thinking of what else could still come.

Callie held the shirt in her hands, looking down at it. The customer was gone, but the order remained; she still couldn’t put on the shirt. It felt surreal to will the action and find her hands ignoring her, the inverse of the compulsions she usually experienced.

In the end, she pocketed the bra and slung the shirt over her shoulder. A moment later, she had to adjust it; it draped too much over her breast, and she needed to stay exposed. Driving home felt less than comfortable, with how the seat belt dug in against her exposed front. Thankfully, sitting low in her seat – low enough most sight lines wouldn’t glimpse her exposure through the window – didn’t count as breaking the command.

2

Once she got home, Callie closed the curtains and finally relaxed. That was the closest she’d felt to real modesty for hours. Even if Vince came home suddenly, it was nothing he hadn’t seen before.

Sure, she could say the same thing about most of the campus, but she tried not to think about that. She wasn’t keen to exacerbate it either, which meant no going out while she was still stuck like that. Which meant a change in her plans for the night.

She made the call, and even while the phone was still ringing, she started pacing throughout the apartment.

Soon, the call was answered. A quick, Japanese-accented voice said, “Callie, hi.”

“Karen, hey,” Callie said.

“We’re still on for tonight, right?” Karen asked, excited pace cutting Callie off before she could start. “Haylee’s going to be late getting off work, but the rest of us are clear for seven.”

That tone made Callie wince. “Yeah, I’m calling about that.” Her pacing had randomly carried her to the bathroom. She looked at her half-dressed state in the mirror. “Something came up, and I really can’t make my way out to you.”

“Awwww.” Karen’s long, drawn-out tone was at odds with the usual clip of her speech. “Is it a car thing? I could come pick you up.”

Callie felt a flattered glow. “No, it’s ... I’m stuck with a work thing.” Karen knew where she worked. Surely, she could figure out the basic idea of what she meant. “So it just really wouldn’t be comfortable to go out like this.”

“Ohh.” If anything, Karen sounded more interested. “We could come to you. I could make a few calls, make the meet happen at your place instead. Then there’s no going out.”

With a girl that cute and insistent, how could Callie say no? “A-Alright, I’ll see you guys at seven. Oh! And I’ll be inviting, um.” How could she describe Kevin? “ ... a guy friend of mine. Kevin.”

“A guy friend?” Karen sounded uncertain at first, but then more diplomatic in tone. “I’ll look forward to meeting him. Looking forward to seeing you!” With that, she hung up.

Not quite the change of plans Callie had intended, but it was no big deal: she still had a couple of hours until anyone would come over anyway. And, thanks to Kevin’s last visit and her keeping up with housework since, she didn’t even need to hurry through tidying up. Hours to do more essay work sounded perfect.

3

It lasted maybe half an hour before her phone got a text. “Is this Callie? From the café?” Her phone already recognised the number, as ‘Josh’.

Did she know a Josh? She racked her brain while she typed her reply. “That’s me,” she wrote. Then it clicked. “We met yesterday, right? The—” Shy, cute, awkward. A lot of adjectives jumped to mind, but she went with the most neutral she could think of. “—quiet boy?”

“Yes,” he texted. “I still have that coupon.”

The coupon which promised sex at a later date, already paid for. Even the mention made her itch with unfinished business. She wanted to resist, to make excuses and delay for later. Instead, her tapping fingers fished for more information. “Where do you want to meet?”

His reply took a few minutes; maybe excitement had briefly knocked him out. When he answered, the texts were short and sweet, for a minimum of fumbling. “My place? South dorm.”

Callie told herself that she hadn’t made up her mind yet. If the situation was too public, surely she could tell him to wait. But her feet already slipped back into her shoes. “Which room?”

“104,” he texted. On the ground floor, and probably close to the entrance. So damnably convenient.

By the time she finished thinking that, she found herself standing right by the door. She at least had the chance to prepare herself. “Be there in a few minutes,” she texted. “Meet me outside.”

With that, she made a swift, uncomfortably-bouncy dash to her car.

4 (Content: Ma/Fa, first)

Though she hoped she wouldn’t have to get too used to it, she did a good job driving while sitting low. She couldn’t be sure whether anyone actually saw her ... but between her windows’ tinting and the bad angle, if anyone did catch a glimpse, they couldn’t be sure of what they saw, either.

She had a quick, easy drive to campus, and from there to the southern dorm building. She even found a parking space near the building itself, but then her luck ran out.

Josh stood near the door: small and skinny, with his brown hair hanging down in front of his eyes. But a few more guys stood on the corner to smoke, and they’d have an easy view of her if she left the car.

Just sitting and waiting for them to leave wasn’t an option, not with her customer right there and waiting for her. It wasn’t even a conflict between orders: just between two orders and her sense of modesty. She took a deep breath and braced herself, to resist as hard as she could. Arm across her chest, she slid from the car and hurried over to Josh.

“Lead the way,” she said.

He, and the smoking men, froze and stared agape at the arm barely covering her breasts.

It nagged at her – not the staring, but the sense that she was doing something wrong. “Dude, come on. Let’s go.” Her hand shook, caught between the clashing impulses sent by her programming and by herself. She couldn’t hold out forever.

Before Josh even reacted, her arm snapped out to her side. Exposure felt at once like immense relief and utter mortification, leaning towards the latter when the other men cheered.

That finally spurred Josh into activity: he took her by the hand and led her inside. They passed one girl in the lounge, too occupied with her phone to notice a topless woman right in front of her, and Josh unlocked room 104 and ushered Callie inside.

Identical single beds and identical small desks sat at opposite corners, but one had a wardrobe where the other just had a set of drawers, and the posters on the walls were completely different. On the left side hung posters of football players on the field. On the right, scantily-clad anime girls.

Taking a wild stab in the dark, Callie sat on the edge of the right-hand bed.

Josh stayed standing and staring, as if he’d never seen a pair of naked breasts in his life. To be fair, he probably hadn’t seen them in person, in his room, sitting on his bed. “Y-Y-You’re...” Huh, that was the closest he’d come to saying something coherent to her.

“Topless, yes,” she said. “Left over from work. I’m like this for another...” She checked her watch. “ ... five hours.” She turned her attention back on Josh, scooting in closer to him.

He damn near vibrated with excitement and trepidation. She couldn’t tell if he was even breathing.

She gave him the warmest, most encouraging smile she could manage. “I’m here. Take your time.” She had almost two hours until her friends would start arriving. Most of her customers barely lasted a few minutes.

Most of her customers went straight for what they wanted. Josh took longer to build his courage. He started with his hand on her side, running back and forth between hip and waistline. She kept her posture relaxed, neutral; while she’d pose for most others, his locked-on eyes showed that her body already had plenty of his attention. Exaggerating it any more would just intimidate him. He chose her for her patience, her adaptability, and those were part of the service she offered with that coupon.

Bit by bit, they grew on each other. His hesitant touch was among the gentlest she’d ever felt, and it teased at her senses to heighten the feelings they created. And he went beyond her side. His first several touches were all chaste ones: through her hair, along her back, down her arms. Such a chaste touch could have just relaxed her, but she knew what would inevitably come next, so it only heightened her anticipation.

Even when he did start on a more carnal approach, it was only piecemeal. A hand ran up and down her thigh, keeping away from her skirt’s hem. Fingertips probed her abdomen, just below her bustline, not quite touching the lower swells of her breasts. He inverted his hand and drew the backs of his fingers along her throat, her chin, and across her lips.

His gaze finally lifted above her neck, looking intensely into her face. She finally got a good look at his eyes: dark, wooden brown, and glowing with both nerves and desire. He inched forwards, holding his breath as he got closer.

Funny. She’d been sure he’d start by touching her tits. Perhaps she was just too used to that from all the number 3s during her shift. Eyes still open, she closed the distance and kissed him.

He tensed, immediately overwhelmed. Once he processed that she was kissing him, he started kissing back with messy, clumsy passion. Was that his first kiss? She did her best to guide him, to teach him by leading, but her programming made it much easier to just relax and let him do as he pleased. Even when his lips fell out of alignment with hers, or their noses banged together. Worst, though, was that he started to squirm breathlessly. Literally.

On realising that, she broke the kiss, nudging him away with a hand on his chest. She locked eyes with him, or as close as she could with how often he averted his gaze. “Breathe,” she said. “You need to breathe. During, too.”

He gasped, from chest-hammering excitement as well as a need to catch up. He nodded in understanding, and a few breaths later, sealed the next kiss. This one hit the target much better, and his breath tickled at her upper lip. Both hands rested at the small of her back and he conducted every bit of his desire into the fervour of his kiss. She hooked her arms around his neck, and though the position could easily be one of surrender, she used it to tug herself closer to him, until she felt the fabric of his shirt against her naked chest.

And on the flip side, he felt her chest at the front of his shirt. He jolted away out of surprise, his eyes wide. The kiss broken, he looked into her face – then a glance downwards, and a final, more questioning look into her eyes.

She gave him a flushed smile as she nodded. Her body squared with his, offering full assent without arching or showing herself off. Even then, he needed a little time to fully act on the idea. His fingertips circled her breasts without touching them, moving first along her ribcage and up to her shoulders. Part of her wanted to growl at him, to hurry him along. For once, she thanked her lucky stars that the programming kept control, and in this case, kept her docile enough to avoid scaring him away.

His first direct touch caressed the surface of her firm breasts, so lightly it didn’t even dimple her skin. With how he’d dialled up her responsiveness, even that was enough to draw a soft groan from her lips.

He took that as encouragement. On the next pass, his fingertips poked in just enough to feel the flesh beyond her skin. “So soft,” he murmured, so quietly that she barely heard. Then his fingers met the one not-at-all-soft part of her breasts. That delicate stroke across her nipples flashed through her so much more nicely than the array of random gropes she’d had during work.

Fuck docile. Both hands gripped the waistband of his jeans and pulled him in closer. They were closed too tightly to come off from such a tug, but it would be enough to say what she was after. Any man with any experience would know she was down for it.

Against all odds, Josh got it, too. He looked at her, awed and bewildered. After a breathless second, he nodded and started pulling at his clothes. By the time he even had his t-shirt off, Callie was naked – the benefits to a lot of practice and a good head start. She hung back, taking slow breaths to keep herself steady, to keep herself from pouncing on him.

Especially when she saw what she had to play with. Yes, for the most part, he was just as scrawny as he looked while he was clothed. But as his underwear came off, his dick sprang free, and first sight of it almost made her mouth water. It wasn’t obscene, bragging-rights, porn-star size; no, while still literally jaw-dropping, this looked like it could almost fit comfortably. Maybe lust blurred her perceptions, but it looked like exactly the dick she needed.

Next, they had to deal with practical issues. That single bed didn’t give them much room to move. “How do you want to do this?” she asked.

Even with all her work on taking her time and building his confidence, he still couldn’t bring himself to answer that question aloud. Instead, he moved with purpose and pushed her onto her back. Her legs spread in invitation before she even consciously processed her new pose. He settled between them, but hesitated. Did he need to consider the enormity of the moment, or was he just unsure of what to actually do next?

She took hold of his shaft. Though she liked how it fit in her hand, she knew where they wanted it. With a tug, she lined him up. His tip slid across her entrance, making them both gasp.

Instinct took it from there, and he drove into her. There went his virginity, but she barely had half a thought to wish it farewell. His deep, hammering strokes split her open with the breadth of his dick, scratching an itch farther inside than she could have reached. It made her see stars within three thrusts, and they just kept coming. She could have happily laid back and let him have his way with her, but she still had a job to do. Without her even needing to think about it, the order kept her hips jolting back up against his with beat-perfect timing, taking him deep.

He lasted far longer than she expected any virgin to, far longer than most of her customers. He lasted long enough that his hips and legs grew tired, having trouble keeping up with that aggression. She wasn’t sure whose idea it was – whether he flipped her or she rolled them over – but she took a turn on top of him, bouncing to impale herself on his pole. He couldn’t decide what to do with his hands. Even while he fucked her, his touch stayed awkward and hesitant, staying mostly on her lower back. But when her knees grew sore and he recovered, he grabbed her by the hips and turned things around. He slid from her just long enough to get her onto her hands and knees, and this time, he slid himself home. She kept herself arched at first, but it soon grew too much for her to handle and she sank ever farther forwards. Her shoulders lay on the bed and her face rested on her folded arms. Her hips could only stay so high because he held them up.

Then he gripped tighter, white-knuckled, as orgasm took over his whole body. He poured into her like a bursting dam, eighteen years’ worth of cum gushing into her. Volume like that would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and it was all for Callie.

Finally, he ran out. Of both seed and energy, as he slumped forwards against her back, holding her pinned to the bed. That suited her just fine: she didn’t intend to go anywhere for a few minutes yet. But there was an edge to Josh’s silence, a feeling of words he wanted to say but couldn’t.

She remembered the question her first boyfriend had asked her, and this time she could answer honestly. “Yes, I came,” she said. “Four or five times.”

5 (Content: Fa/Fa)

On the way home, Callie pondered. She’d ‘worked’ outside the café before, but that was the first time someone had sent for her. Did that make her a call girl? Except Josh never actually called her, and barely spoke even when they met. Was she a text girl? Was that a thing?

The route between school and home only had one set of lights, and of course it was red when she got to it. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and sang along with the radio while she waited. She felt a cheerful mood: she’d had some melting, toe-curling sex, and in a bit over an hour, she’d see her boyfriend, Karen, and some other friends. On the whole, it felt like a good day.

A sudden noise drew her attention to the car next to her. Oh, she’d been forgetting to slouch, and now both driver and passenger stared at the dancing, singing, half-naked girl. Exposure couldn’t spoil her mood, so she just flashed them a smile, right on time for the light to turn green.

Once home, she took a long, thorough shower, scrubbing herself clean. Finally, it was time to get ready for her friends’ visit. First, she poured herself into a pair of skinny, deep-blue jeans. Wearing skirts to work was a good idea; just having long jeans around her legs made it feel like she was off work at last.

Then she tried an experiment. The order was literally ‘topless all day’, but she knew he really meant for her to keep her tits out. Her hands weren’t a top, but she couldn’t wear them either, however hard she tried. So, what if she put on a top, but didn’t cover her chest?

She couldn’t even bring herself to put on a t-shirt, and it’d be uncomfortable to wear like that anyway. Instead, she tried a black-and-white-checked button shirt. She got her arms through the sleeves and let it hang open. No invasive impulses; so far, so good. She awkwardly buttoned it from the bottom upward, one button at a time. Nothing stopped her from closing it over her navel or farther up her abdomen.

When she reached her bustline, her hands froze. When she tried to press the issue, they instead pulled at her lapels to open the remaining space wider. The end result had her wearing a shirt, but exposed from the chest up ... and without her programming making a peep. She wasn’t sure if that counted as a loophole; it still kept her a significant degree of exposure. If anything, having a shirt on elsewhere just emphasised it.

Soon after, she heard a knock at the door. Her first guest of the night! Though Callie wanted to bound over to greet them, she was much too conscious of her chest. She walked over with a more sedate pace and smooth, graceful stride.

Beyond was Karen, a small-and-skinny Japanese girl in bright, colourful, and ever-so-slightly-skimpy clothing: an off-the-shoulder top, a skirt shorter than what Callie wore to work, and long, mismatched stockings heading into Mary Jane shoes. Between the pigtails in her black hair and her adorable features, she came off more as ‘cute’ than ‘sexy’.

“Howdy!” Karen stepped past, carrying bags which clinked as she moved. “I know, I know, I’m early. But I just dropped it on you to host this! It’d be mean if I didn’t swing by and at least help you tidy up your—” She glanced around. “—immaculately tidy apartment, heh. Well, I’m here now and I’ll cry if you tell me to go and—” Something clicked in her head, and she spun around to look at Callie’s chest. Once she’d confirmed what she thought she saw, she yanked her eyes back up. “So that’s the work thing, huh?” She wasn’t quite short enough to have a sight-line straight to Callie’s bust, but it came close.

“Yep,” Callie said, hands on her hips. She’d long since decided that she’d own her state. “Another three hours, and I can close this shirt.”

“Oh. Um.” Karen set down the bags, then shifted from foot to foot. There was something she usually did within the first minute of seeing a friend, and she fidgeted with uncertainty. Or perhaps withdrawals.

Callie rolled her eyes. “Oh, just get over here and hug me.”

Karen was there, arms wrapped around her, before she even finished speaking. “Callie hugs are the best,” she said into Callie’s neck. Skinny as she was, Karen didn’t have the softest of hugs, but she had warmth and enthusiasm. Callie didn’t rush her, and it took a minute or two before she broke away. “So! Setting up. I brought drinks and snacks.”

They got the snacks into bowls; Karen grabbed the disposable cups; and Callie found some juice in the fridge to use for punch. Working together, they had the place ready in maybe two minutes.

Which meant Karen no longer had anything to occupy her hands. Instead they fidgeted, fingertips poking together in front of herself. “So, that guy friend of yours. Kevin, right? Is, um, is he coming?”