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BREAST.TXT by Cindy V Femdom, TV, Humiliation
A note came over the company e-mail system from one of the women in Human
Resources that Friday, October 9, 1998 was National Breast Cancer Research
Day, sponsored by one of the major jeans companies. In return for a five-
dollar donation, you could come to work on Friday in jeans.
I had a number of thoughts about this note. First, I had grown to
dislike the Human Resources department. A department of all women, most of
them quite attractive, who invariably would not acknowledge your existence
when you passed them in the hall. Second, I was really getting tired of being
hit up for donations in this company - someone was always getting married or
pregnant or sick, and there was always another request for money. Sure,
cancer research is important, but so are lots of other worthy causes. Third,
wearing jeans to work was not a big deal to me since Friday is dress-down day
anyway, although not in jeans. But fourth, I resented the idea that this was
a deal where everyone would know who contributed or not by whether or not you
were wearing jeans. They might as well have made the non-contributors wear a
scarlet B.
Cancer in fact had been front-page news last week, at least in New York,
where baseball player Darryl Strawberry had been diagnosed with stomach
cancer. Darryl had never been my favorite player, what with his history of
drugs and alcohol and spousal abuse, but he seemed to have recovered from
these and put his life back together, and so his cancer was a source of
sadness.
The e-mail note said the administrative assistants would be collecting
the donations. I resented this whole Breast Cancer Day, but hey, this is a
serious disease, so I asked my administrative assistant, Heather, if she would
take my donation. Heather replied that she didn't think she was supposed to be
doing the collecting, but she would look into it for me. I replied that the
note said the S... - I stopped myself in time from saying "secretaries" -
administrative assistants would be doing the collecting. Jeez, I thought to
myself - it had taken me long enough to remember to call them administrative
assistants. But now the person who did the typing and the filing was no
longer sure if she was an administrative assistant?
I forgot about this and got back to work. On Wednesday, October 7 there
was a lot of activity going around the office. Something was going on with all
the women - the professional women, the administrative assistants, and the
human resource department - but no one would talk about it. I assumed it was
another baby shower or something, and I went back to my work.
On Thursday, October 8 there was an e-mail note from Donna, the head of
Human Resources, saying that an emergency meeting had been called for 4 p.m.
in the cafeteria and that all employees absolutely had to attend. My first
thought was that the company had been sold, but then I decided if that had
been true the president would have called the meeting. But then I remembered
that the president and his senior management team were out of town for
meetings, so the president could not have called this meeting.
We were all at the cafeteria at 4 p.m., expecting the worst. That is
exactly what we got.
Donna got up to speak. You could see she was furious about something.
But it was not what we had thought.
"National Breast Cancer Research Day is tomorrow," she said in a loud
voice. "We asked for a little five-dollar contribution to fight this terrible
disease. 100% of the women in the company contributed. Only about 2% of the
men did."
I sheepishly remembered that I had not followed up with Heather on who
was doing the collecting in my group.
Donna angrily continued. "Obviously you men have no empathy for what it
means to a woman to have breast cancer. I find this ironic, considering how
obsessed with breasts you men are."
Well, she had me there. I don't know what it is, but when it comes to
women's breasts I love to look at them, I love to touch them, and I love to
kiss them. Donna was absolutely right.
Donna then looked around and a small smile appeared on her lips. She
lowered her voice. "Apparently your moral obligation to fight this terrible
disease, plus the inducement of wearing jeans to work tomorrow, are not
enough. I will give you a different inducement - but 100% of the men have to
agree."
I could not imagine what she had in mind. But Donna went on.
"If you men agree to contribute five dollars each, and agree to a few
more conditions, here is what will happen. The women in the company have all
agreed to not only wear jeans tomorrow, but to wear sexy bustiers and no bras.
They have also agreed that they will make themselves available to you men for
five minutes of breast kissing and sucking. Yes, you will be able to kiss and
suck the breasts of one woman, of our choice, for five minutes."
"However, you men have no idea what it is to have breasts that weigh on
you all day and that men ogle over. We have an idea to help make you more
aware of this."
"We have obtained a large number of artificial breasts. Each man will be
fitted with a pair of these breasts, and I have to tell you that there will be
some discomfort. You will also wear a bra, but the bra will not totally
support your new breasts so you can feel what women have to go through. And
so that you will know what it is to be ogled all day, and so that the women
can have a little fun, you will also wear panties and heels and whatever else
we feel like dressing you in. This will last all day Friday."
I,and no doubt all the other men, were speechless. This seemed like a
ridiculous tradeoff. Why would all of us go around work in bras and panties
all day? We wouldn't get much work done, would we? Not that Human Resources
ever understood that we do run a business here. But on the other hand ...
Every woman would wear a bustier and no bra? And five minutes of kissing
someone's breasts? I had been dateless for - well, for a long time.
Nobody said a word for a long time. I looked around. The women had
obviously discussed this and agreed on it. I found it hard to believe that
each woman would willingly bare her breasts and allow someone to kiss and suck
them. Martha. Karen. Grace. Betty. Jill. Women who work on other floors
and who I didn't even know. The company did have a lot of hot looking women. I
could tell the men were mulling this over. So we would embarrass ourselves for
a while - who really cares?
Donna broke the silence. "This only works if we have 100% agreement. We
can't have some people agreeing and some not. Does everyone agree? Everyone?
I want to see everyone's hand raised."
All the women raised their hands immediately. One by one, reluctantly,
some of the men's hands went up. I kept looking around. I didn't think any
of the men were going to refuse. I closed my eyes and imagined sucking
someone's breasts for five minutes. I raised my hand too.
"Then it's settled," announced Donna. "Women, you know how to dress
tomorrow. Men, come dressed in your normal business casual. Don't forget to
bring your five-dollar donation. Watch your e-mail for where to go for some -
adjustments," she grinned. She adjourned the meeting.
I came in the next day not knowing what to expect. This was Friday,
October 9. The office was decorated with banners proclaiming it to be Breast
Cancer Research Day. The women were abuzz in conversation. Strangely, the men
were not talking to each other. The women, however, looked fantastic. They
were all wearing colorful, low-cut bustiers that showed off their cleavage and
the tops of their breasts magnificently. They were also in tight jeans that
emphasized their curves and butts. Even women that I normally did not find
attractive were looking ravishingly today. It was going to be some day!
I turned on my computer and found a new e-mail note from Donna. I was to
report to a particular room on another floor at 9:30. Other men had 9:00
assignments, but when I got up at 9:25 I still had not seen what the women had
done with any of the men.
I arrived at the assigned room. There were three women already there,
but since this was not my floor I did not know any of them. The three of them
ranged in age from young twenties to mid thirties to early fifties, but each
of them looked quite sexy and I wondered whose breasts I would soon be
kissing.
"Yes, as Donna promised you will soon be enjoying someone's breasts," the
thirty-ish woman said. "But first, may we have your donation?" I reached
into my pocket and handed it to her. "Good. Next, you need to take off your
clothes. Everything. Give them to me when you are done. You'll get them
back at the end of the day."
I was a little embarrassed about stripping completely naked in front of
three strange women, but one of them was going to bare her breasts to me, so
fair is fair. I removed all of my clothes and gave them to her. She put them
in a large paper bag and wrote my name on the bag.
"Next you may sit down in this chair," the twenty-something announced.
"Notice that the seat is padded, so it won't be cold on your bare ass," she
giggled. I sat and awaited my reward.
The older woman leaned over right in my face, displaying her mature but
erotic breasts close-up to me. I wondered if she were the one I would get,
but she quickly grabbed both my arms and pulled them behind me, where the
other two women started tying them to the chair.
"Sorry, honey," the older woman explained, "but Donna was concerned that
you guys might use your hands on our breasts, and that wasn't the deal. You
don't mind, do you," she purred at me.
I licked my lips in anticipation and shook my head "No".
Suddenly a blindfold was put over my eyes and tied behind my head.
"This will heighten your pleasure, don't you think?" she asked me.
Then there was silence. I listened carefully. I heard a strange but
familiar sound, like something small rolling on the desk. I couldn't quite
place the sound, although I'm sure I had heard it before. I leaned forward,
as I heard the sound two more times.
"Yes, dear," one of the woman said for my benefit. We have been rolling
dice to see who gets the honor. Sorry, but you don't get to know who."
I did remember in Donna's speech her saying something about the woman of
"their" choice. I guess I was not surprised that the guys did not get to
choose. I was surprised that I would not find out who. But it didn't really
matter. In the dark, all female breasts are wonderful.
Then one woman, and I could not tell which one, sat in my lap. I could
feel her undoing her bustier. I could feel her shake her breasts free. She
put her arms around me and kissed me. Then she took one of her breasts and
stroked the side of my face with it. It was so soft! I extended my tongue,
but in my blindfolded state she kept teasing me and pulling just out of reach.
Finally she took pity on me and presented one of her breasts right in
front of my mouth. I kissed it gently. I inhaled a faint scent - she must
have showered with a floral soap and it smelled heavenly. Otherwise I could
not smell any perfume, so that would make her nearly impossible to identify
later on. I kissed her all over her breast. I found the nipple and kissed it
tenderly. Then I took it into my mouth.
I licked her nipple slowly in circles, trying to feel every millimeter of
it. Then I hungrily inhaled the whole nipple and started sucking. What is
there about women's nipples? I felt myself slipping into a trance-like state,
just enjoying the sensation of sucking on a delicious nipple. I heard her
moaning softly. She whispered to me that I could use my teeth to bite her as
long as I was gentle. I bit down ever so gently, stretching her nipple ever
so slightly. She moaned and sighed, and it was obvious we both were getting
turned on.
She whispered to me to open my mouth, and she released her saliva coated
nipple from my mouth. "Was my time up already?' I asked, dejectedly. "No,"
she whispered, "I just want some attention on the other breast.
Soon the other breast was placed in front of my mouth. I kissed it
reverently. This time when I found the nipple I decided to flick it with my
tongue. I started slowly and then increased the tempo. I was flicking my
tongue left and right very rapidly, as her moans got stronger and stronger.
She was also squirming in my lap, rubbing herself against me. I just realized
that I was not feeling the rough fabric of her jeans against my groin, nor
even her panty. She was rubbing her own naked groin against my penis, and she
was quite wet. I continued flicking my tongue on her nipple as fast as I
could, until she moaned loudly one last time and then stopped. I guessed she
had cum.
I didn't know if this had taken five minutes over thirty. I had enjoyed
her breasts immensely, and presumably, so had she. She removed her nipple
from my mouth and kissed me gently on the lips. She climbed off my lap, and I
could hear her getting dressed. Several minutes later they removed my
blindfold, still leaving me tied. I looked at all three women. There was no
way I could tell which one that was.
"We hope you enjoyed that," the thirty-something woman said to me.
"Would you agree that we held up our end of the bargain?" I nodded. "Now it
is your turn to hold up your end." "The fake breasts?" I asked.
One of the women had a tape measure and she measured me around my chest.
"Forty-two," she said. One of the other women came back with a pair of
falsies and a pink bra.
"Unfortunately these are not so easy to attach," she said. The other two
giggled at that comment.
With that, two of the women started playing with my nipples! They kissed
them, they blew on them, they held them between their long fingernails, and
finally they started sucking on them. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the
eroticism of this. Two beautiful women sucking on my nipples. I was getting
aroused again, and someone was running a fingernail up and down my penis while
all this was going on. The two women started pulling on my nipples with their
teeth. I gritted my teeth, as this was starting to hurt. Finally they
released my tender nipples from their mouths.
"Oh, look at the little lipstick prints," the youngest woman exclaimed.
But before I could look, the women rubbed my sore nipples between their
fingers, and then placed a couple of clothespins on me. I screamed from the
pain. The two women felt pity on me and kissed my cheeks. "We're sorry, but
we need to do this to get the blood trapped," one of them said.
This made no sense to me, but I was in no position to question them.
After who knows how long they removed the clothespins from my nipples. I had
never seen my nipples stand out the way they did now.
Then the women took some ultra thin string and wrapped them many times
around my extended nipples. Because the nipples were so extended, there was
plenty of area to wind the string. They painted the area around my nipples in
a clear smelly liquid that must have been glue. Then they carefully fit a
falsie over the area they had painted, attaching the string to the middle of
the falsie. I looked down, and sure enough I had two lifelike breasts!
"I'm sure you wonder why we used the string, since we did use glue," the
older woman said to me. "Let me show you." With that she took the tip of her
finger and teased the right nipple of my falsie. I had expected to feel
nothing, but I felt it in my own right nipple. It felt pretty nice. She did
the same to the left. They had connected my own nipples to the nipples of the
false breasts.
"Don't be surprised if during the day someone tweaks your nipples,
Sweetie," one of them said to me.
I moved around a little in the chair, trying to test the weight and the
movement of my new breasts. They were quite lifelike, and would move as I
moved.
Someone produced a pair of panties in a hot pink color. Not only were
they in a girly shade of pink, but they were full of lace. She slipped them up
my legs, giving my penis a little stroke as she tucked it inside the panties.
They had a silky feel to them, and felt wonderful. Unfortunately I could see
that they were extremely skimpy and did not cover a lot of skin.
The younger woman produced a makeup kit. "Is this necessary?" I whined.
"Oh excuse me," she replied sarcastically. "You're going to walk around the
office all day in breasts and panties, but you don't like the idea of makeup?"
My objection seemed a little ridiculous when she explained it like that.
She applied some cool liquid all over my face, spreading it with her
fingertips. When she was satisfied with that, she took a mascara and stroked
my upper and lower eyelashes with it. I could feel the weight of the mascara
on my eyelashes, a very strange and unfamiliar feeling. I had a difficult
time not blinking and flinching as she colored my eyelids with eyeshadow and
drew a fine line all around my eyelids. She dipped a soft fluffy blusher
brush in some pink powder and stroked it over my cheekbones. Finally she
examined her collection of lipsticks and chose one. She firmly held my chin
in one hand as she carefully painted my lips from a tube of lipstick. "It's
an all-day plum color, in case you wondered," she explained. "Plums and
purples are 'in' this fall. And it's an all-day consistency because we can't
run around giving you touch-ups all day, can we? Well, can we?" she insisted.
She expected an answer from me, so I quietly replied "No."
Someone finally untied my arms from behind me. "I don't think you'll be
running away," she said. The women produced a bra in a hot pink to match the
panties, and they eased me into it. I felt ridiculous. They told me to stand.
Donna was right - I don't understand the physics of it, but it was a poorly
fitting bra. My new breasts were quite heavy, and the bra was not relieving
their weight. I had to stand straight with my back tilted back to relieve the
weight. This served to push my breasts out, which the women remarked at and
laughed over.
They had me sit again so they could measure my feet. They slid some
sheer black stockings up my legs, which ended at my thighs. Then they gave me
a pair of women's shoes with heels. They had me stand and practice walking for
them. I knew I looked ridiculous, but I gave it my best and tried to walk
femininely. Eventually they said I was ready to face the world, and they told
me to go back to my desk.
I was in a pink bra with falsies, matching pink panties, stockings and
heels, and makeup. I licked my lips and tasted my lipstick, although I could
tell that I was not going to be able to lick it off. I walked back carefully,
since both the falsies and the heels changed the distribution of my weight.
As embarrassed as I felt, I thought it would be even worse, if that was
possible, to fall.
I walked past lots of desks. Every single woman I passed whistled or
laughed or made some obscene comment. I blushed through the makeup. So much
for all our sexual harassment awareness training. Some of the men returning
to their desks were also in their outfits - none of them wore much more than
bras and panties although there were some variations. There were some panties
that barely covered a penis, but left the balls exposed. Some men with longer
hair than I, had had their hair styled. Others wore nail polish or earrings,
things my particular three women had either forgotten or decided against. I
saw some exaggerated false eyelashes, some hooker-like eye makeup, and some
outlandishly huge breast sizes. Comparatively, I was only moderately
ridiculous.
It was a long day. Eventually all the men were dressed. Heather
teasingly complimented me on being bold enough to wear plum lipstick to work,
a shade she would only wear to clubs. She did make me sit while she and her
friends debated endlessly whether I needed lip gloss on top of the lipstick,
which she laughingly applied. The whole office of women seemed unusually
aggressive and took advantage of our embarrassment and uneasiness. At best
they would make teasing, lewd remarks about what kind of men must we be to go
around dressed the way we were. They would find ways to rub up against us, or
corner us in tight places for a kiss or a pat on our ass. Some of them would
feel the front of my panties to make sure that I still had my male equipment,
as if that wasn't obvious from the sensuous feel of the panties against me.
Perhaps the worst was when several women would corner me and pretend they
didn't believe they could tweak my nipples through the bra and make me moan in
ecstasy.
There was a mandatory meeting in the cafeteria late in the day. The
lights were turned off so we could see an educational film about breast
cancer. When the movie was done the lights were turned back on. There was
Yasmine Bleeth, the stunning actress who had appeared in Baywatch and who is
one of the celebrity leaders of the Breast Cancer Day. Donna presented her
with a check for our donations and explained how the men willingly dressed in
female clothes and breasts to better understand women and breasts. Donna asked
each of the men to parade past Yasmine and her, so that the two of them could
each give us a kiss and a final nipple tweak for participating in this day.
This was excruciatingly embarrassing, as we had to submit to this in front of
the whole company, and as Yasmine was wearing a short tight dress that was
getting most of us hard, a fact which could not be hidden beneath a flimsy
pair of panties.
Finally Donna thanked everyone for being good sports and told us where to
go to get our clothes back and our breasts and makeup removed.
End