Chapter 10 THE LIAR She had been told to dress "like a girl who lies about being raped". Laura ddn't know exactly what that meant, but she could make some guesses. It was going to be humiliating, and she wanted to die inside, but only metaphorically. The picture of the knife remained horrifyingly literal, and Laura knew she definitely wanted to go on living, even if her life was becoming a nightmare.
It took Laura a while to select an outfit.
She tried on several work outfits that were more risque than she'd normally wear, but started feeling worried about each of them, that they might be too conservative for her blackmailer.
She would only get one chance to get it right and if she failed the best she could hope for was a further humiliating punishment, and at worst, the knife. In the end Laura dressed herself in her shortest skirt - a pleated tartan thing - and no panties. She wore red high heels, and a button-up white business shirt with no bra.
She looked like Erica had on the weekend, really, although at least Laura's shirt had buttons. The shirt was reasonably opaque, so you couldn't immediately tell that Laura had no bra on, although she thought if her nipples got hard they would probably poke through the material. She decided to put a spare pair of panties and a bra in her handbag, so that if everything got too hard she'd at least have them available.
Finally, she put on make-up, and looked at herself. Pink hair, pink lipstick, bulging cleavage, barely concealed ass - she looked like a whore. She felt sick inside, but she had no doubt this would satisfy her blackmailer. It would do. Erica drove her into work. Her girlfriend was clearly curious about Laura's sluttish attire, but she knew better than to ask about it. Laura sat in the passenger seat, trying to keep her legs tightly closed.
She knew there was a camera under the glove compartment focused on her groin, because she had put it there just yesterday. Right now it had a perfect view up her skirt to her shaved cunt, if she parted her legs even a little. Having to think about her pussy the whole drive, if only to conceal it, was distracting, and Laura was embarassed to feel her twat getting a little aroused by the end of the journey.
When they reached work, Erica left her in the carpark and continued on to her own office. It was cold and overcast; Laura shivered as she crossed the bitumen parking lot, and hurried inside the large departmental offices building, heading straight for the HR section and her scheduled meeting with Chelle.
The meeting was in a large conference room, dominated by a long, round, mahogany table. Chelle was already there, sitting in one of the elegant high-backed conference chairs, and so was Alistair, who was clearly terrified and drenched in flop-sweat.
In addition, two other men were present, though taking a back seat. One was Laura's union rep, who she couldn't for the life of her recall the name of. The other was John Mackey, Laura's divisional head - Alistair's boss. Everyone looked a bit shocked when they saw Laura come in.
After all, she looked like a tramp. Alistair couldn't help casting a lustful eye across her body despite his predicament, and even Mr Mackey cracked a brief, amused smile at her clothing. Chelle curled her lip disapprovingly. Laura blushed and tried to ignore their looks. She hated people at work thinking she was some kind of slut, but after all, she had invited it with her clothing this morning.
She hunched her shoulders and crossed her arms over her chest, trying to de-emphasise her large breasts. She wished for the 100th time that she was more petite and not cursed with such huge, sluttish tits. Chellle cleared her throat as Laura sat. 'Thanks for coming in, Laura," said Chelle. "That's okay," said Laura nervously. Chelle shuffled through her papers, and then looked up at Laura. "Now, we're here to talk about a phone call you made to me yesterday afternoon.
You called me, and you alleged that Alistair here, your manager, has done some terribly unprofessional and possibly illegal things to you. If true, they're a very serious allegation, and you deserve and will get our full protection." Laura nodded.
Chelle continued. "So today, we're here to work through those allegations, and learn what happened, and get some formal processes in motion." There was silence. Laura said nothing. Alistair was giving her a glare of pure hatred. Chelle coughed uncomfortably. "Well, Laura, perhaps you could start by telling us what happened yesterday." Laura couldn't believe this was happening to her.
She had been a militant feminist all her life, and as such she'd had a dim view of girls who lied about rape. She'd talked about them to all of her friends and written online posts about them. Girls who lie about rape, she'd said, are traitors to their gender. They are dumb, stupid sluts. They deserve to go to male prison and be fucktoys for all the real rapists there.
They deserve to be gangraped again and again. Women who really have been raped should be able to make appointments to beat and torture them. Girls who lie about rape are really on the side of men who want to subjugate women. They help men claim that all rape victims are liars. They help rapists.
They're no better than rapists themselves. That was her, now, though. She had been talking about herself all along. Laura looked down at the table. "It didn't happen. Alistair didn't do anything to me. I lied to you yesterday.
I'm sorry." Alistair looked like he had been granted a pardon from the death sentence - suddenly happy, but confused. The rest of the room looked shocked and disgusted. Chelle's face was hardening. "You know that these allegations are very serious, Laura? Why would you lie about something like this?" Laura took a deep breath. "Because I'm a dumb slut that likes attention." "What?" asked Chelle. "Because I'm a dumb slut that likes attention." Chelle squinted at her. "Is Alistair making you say this, Laura?" "I swear, Alistair hasn't told me to say anything," Laura pleaded, and it was completely true.
And Chelle and the others appeared to sense the truth of it. John, Alistair's boss, stepped in. Laura couldn't help but notice that he was looking not at her face as he spoke, but at her breasts. "Maybe you'd better tell us what DID happen yesterday, Laura." Laura had been thinking about this. She knew the kind of story her blackmailer wanted her to tell. He hadn't told her to say it. But he'd told her to make them believe her.
If she just kept repeating the same thing, they'd know that someone was forcing her. But she knew that deep down, they did want to believe she was lying. It was easier for them. Less paperwork. She had dressed like a dumb slut, and at an instinctive level they knew that dumb sluts told lies, so she just had to fill in the blanks to let them feel okay about thinking that.
"I'd been kind of lazy last week, so I came in to do some extra work." She realised her hand was idly toying with the collar of her shirt, drawing attention to her cleavage, and yanked it away, embarassed. She went on. "Alistair was here, so he called me into his office. He told he was really worried about me, because I'd been dressing so sluttily recently, and he cared about me and he didn't want to see me get fired." She swallowed, entering the more humiliating portion of her tale.
"But I was feeling really horny, so I asked him if he wanted to fuck me. He said no, but I took off my skirt and panties anyway and tried to sit in his lap. I was hoping when he felt my bottom against his groin he'd get hard and want to use me for sex. But he freaked out and pushed me away, and I was really humiliated that he didn't want to fuck me, so I ran away and told a story about him raping me to get back at him. But overnight I realised he didn't deserve it, and it was my fault, so here I am." Chelle was shaking her head in disgust.
"Laura, you know we're going to have to dismiss you over this." "Please no," begged Laura. "I won't do it again. I'll be good. I'll work closely with Alistair and do what he says.
He tried to help me." Chelle looked at Alistair. Alistair had clearly worked out the not-so-secret-code in Laura's plea, even if he didn't know why it was happening. "Yes," said Alistair. "Laura is a good worker. I'm prepared to keep her on, although maybe she should come in an hour early each morning for counselling with me? And I think probably she should come in every day this week, not just her normal casual days.
Just for this week" Chelle sighed. "I'm not impressed, Laura. This was a horrible, dangerous game for you to have played. You're lucky Alistair is so forgiving.
We'll keep you on, but only as long as Alistair is willing to put up with you, okay?" Mr Mackey cleared his throat. "And I'll be rememembering this too, Laura. Remembering that you're a girl who lied about attempted rape." Laura looked down and said nothing. The humiliation was overwhelming. Slowly, Chelle, John, and the union rep gathered their papers an, one by one, left the conference room. The door closed behind John, and then Laura was alone in the room with Alistair.
The room was large, and no one could see in from the inside. Laura felt scared and vulnerable but she knew her employment now depended on Alistair's cooperation, so she continued to sit. Alistair looked at Laura suspiciously. He eyed her slutty clothing and her downcast eyes.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked. "Because I'm a dumb slut who likes attention," said Laura. She looked up, making eye contact, hoping to intimidate him. It didn't work. Alistair was staring at Laura's tits, bulging against the white button-up shirt. "Are you wearing a bra today?" asked Alistair. "No," said Laura, blushing. "Show me," said Alistair. Taking a deep breath and trying not to cry, Laura unbuttoned her shirt.
The white material parted, and revealed her large, round tits. The room was cold and her nipples stiffened as they were exposed to the air.
Laura had a strong urge to cover her boobs with her hands but knew Alistair needed to see them. She kept her hands by her sides and let Alistair stare. Alistair did indeed stare. He exhaled audibly, and Laura could see the crotch of his pants beginning to tent. After a few moments, he got up, walked over, and sat at a closer chair, within reach of Laura. He leant in, and grabbed Laura's left boob. Laura let him. His hand felt strange on her tit - so clearly masculine.
It was warm, warmer than the room. Gently at first, he began to squeeze. The warmth and the pressure felt good, and Laura sighed.
Then he squeezed harder, crushing her melon in his hand. It hurt, and Laura squealed involuntarily. "What about panties?" Alistair asked, breathing heavily now. His hand was still on her tits, palpating it slowly. Laura said nothing, only pulled up her skirt and spread her legs.
Her pussy was bare and nude and just a little bit moist. Alistair gazed at it, clearly in a personal heaven. "Seriously, why are you doing this?" he asked. "Because I'm a dumb slut that likes attention," said Laura. She wished she could close her legs, or hide her tits. Alistair thought for a while. "All right," he said. "I'm not sure what I'm going to do with you at counselling yet, but at a bare minimum there's this." He pinched Laura's nippled for emphasis. "Every morning I'm going to see your tits and your cunt, and I want to find your cunt wet and aroused when I look at it.
You're going to sit in my office with your boobs and twat exposed, and tell me about your sexual encounters and your fantasies, and I'll play with your tits and pussy if I'm in the mood. We'll work out the rest as we go." Laura nodded numbly. "Now dress yourself," Alistair said. "Someone could come in here any minute and you look like a used whore." Stinging, Laura pulled down her skirt and buttoned up her shirt.
Alistair left the room first and then, shortly after, Laura followed Her next stop was her workgroup. As she approached her desk, she saw Candy and Geoffrey looking at her in contempt, sizing up her slutty outfit. That would have been bad enough by itself, but Laura had to do more. "Hi, guys," she said, standing by her desk.
"Um, I don't know if you heard, but I made some silly accusations on the weekend about Alistair trying to molest me. I just wanted to let you know that they're complete lies. I only said them because I'm a dumb slut who likes attention." Geoffrey responded immediately.
"Jesus, Laura, that's a disgusting thing to do. What kind of horrible person are you?" Laura felt close to tears again. "I'm a dumb slut that likes attention," she said. Geoffrey looked at her disgustedly, but said no more. Laura sat at her desk and tried to concentrate on her work. Word about Laura got around quickly. She heard people discussing it whispers, sharing the news behind closed doors. Laura had lied about being raped.
AND she was dressed like a slut today. An unusually large number of men - and some women - found excuses to walk past Laura's workspace and peer down her top into her bra-less cleavage. Laura tried to pretend it wasn't happening. At lunch she couldn't help but bump into Taylor and Michael. She found them in the courtyard. "About Saturday." Michael began when saw her. "Yes?" said Laura. She knew what Michael had done was her fault but she felt awful today and not in a forgiving mood. "I'm sorry." Michael continued.
"Jesus, Michael, you ejaculated in my girlfriend's mouth," Laura snapped. "Sorry doesn't cut it." Michael stiffened in anger. "She was being a whore, Laura. I know you don't want to hear that about your girlfriend, but she came on to me. She practically raped me to get my dick in her mouth." He leaned in. "And speaking of rape, I heard you were exercising your imagination on the weekend." Laura said nothing and looked away. "I've heard you talk about girls who lie about rape, Laura," said Michael.
"And now you do it? What the hell kind of person are you?" Taylor chimed in. "What about all those girls who really are raped, Laura? You've betrayed them all." "I didn't mean to." began Laura, and then remembered what she was supposed to say. "I'm just a dumb slut that likes attention." "Well, you've got that right," said Michael. "The way you dress. The way you dye your hair that pink colour." Laura was on the verge of tears.
Hearing her friend Michael say these things about her was horrible. Knowing that he was right was worse. Michael's voice softened then, though. "Anyway, I'm willing to forgive you for lying, if you're willing to forgive me. Call it even, right?" Laura looked up. It was better than she deserved. "Even," she said gratefully. Michael smiled, and stepped forward and hugged her. It felt good to be hugged, and Laura embraced him back happily.
After the hug, Laura looked at Taylor. "And you?" Taylor shrugged. "Michael didn't fuck MY girlfriend. Seriously, though, he's right, Erica was being a whore.
I don't know how I feel about her. But I'm okay with you. Even." Laura smiled happily, and hugged Taylor too.
"You did it because of me and Erica, right?" said Michael afterwards. "You made stuff up because Erica cheated on you?" It sounded plausible. Laura hadn't considered that. But she couldn't say it was so.
"I did it because I'm a dumb slut who likes attention," she said. "That's really all there is to it." Michael shrugged.
"Whatever." (To be continued.)