Sarah shifted awkwardly as she considered the list of things she could still surrender.  Her emotions, her heart, her willpower and her intelligence were off the table - if she gave up any of those, she felt like she would no longer be able to fight Lachlan’s cruel control.

 

Nor did she intend to give up control of her reproductive system.  She was sure that Lachlan would impregnate her, or have her fall pregnant to someone else - and thanks to his editing of her ethics, Sarah no longer believed that adoption was an option.  In fact, if she fell pregnant, her ethics would oblige her to marry the father, quit her job, and a become a docile and domesticated breeder.

 

To lose her name, or her history or life story, or her family, would feel like losing her identity - and it might then be hard for her to remember that her current predicament was an aberration, something that she needed to escape.

 

But it suddenly occurred to her that there was one option that Lachlan *wouldn’t* take advantage of.  One option that he *couldn’t*.  Her career.

 

Because he needed her to keep working in her current job, so that she could keep breaking rules and having to surrender things.  If she were to be fired, there would be no further triggers for surrender.  In fact, it was entirely possible that losing her job might break the hold that the Securo System had over her entirely.

 

And hadn’t Lachlan already shown that he would work to keep her in her job?  He’d backpedalled on her outfit choices when her bimbo-esque costume had drawn too much attention in the office.  And he’d interceded with the Minister to help her keep her position.

 

So she looked at him - and, quite without meaning to, her mouth quirked into a smug smile of victory.

 

“My career,” she said.  “I surrender my career.”

 

Her expectation would be that he would be exultant - but then chastened when he realised that he simply couldn’t take away her job.

 

Instead, he laughed.

 

“Oh, Kitten,” he said.  “I take it from your smile that you think you’re doing something clever.”

 

“I am!” she pouted.  “You can’t make me quit this job.”

 

“Why would I want to make you quit this job, Kitten?” asked Lachlan.  “In fact, my first suggestion to you, now that I control your career, is that you will do literally anything to keep this job.  You will balance your slutty needs and desires against the necessity of keeping this job, and if you need help in resolving those priorities you will turn to me for advice.”

 

Sarah moaned as she felt those thoughts taking hold in her mind.  She realised her mistake now - a terrible mistake.  Having worked out how important her career was to Lachlan’s hypnotic control, she should have picked something else to surrender - anything else - and then promptly gotten herself fired in a way that even Lachlan couldn’t fix.  It would have been humiliating - and a blow to her reputation - but it would have freed her from his control.

 

But now she couldn’t.  Now she would not allow herself to be fired.

 

“But let’s talk about *why* you want to keep this job,” continued Lachlan.  “Let’s talk about *career goals*, Kitten.  And you have one, single, secret career goal that drives your entire life.  You want to see women - all women - abused, humiliated, raped, and treated like animals.  That’s what you want, and every part of your career is focused to achieve that end.”

 

Sarah felt like she had been punched.  What Lachlan was saying was the exact opposite of what had actually motivated her career.  She had wanted to work for women’s rights, to build the dignity of women, to empower them.

 

But she felt Lachlan’s words creeping into her mind, and she knew they were true.  She wanted that more than anything - to see women become crying, naked, enslaved animals, who existed only to be raped and impregnated.  That was a goal worth working her entire life to achieve.

 

And had she not come to the perfect place to achieve it?  The Secretary of the Department of Women?  It made sense that she had gone to university and worked her way up through the public service, just to take this position, where she could do so much damage to the so-called rights and dignity of women.

 

“But let’s make it interesting, Kitten,” said Lachlan.  “Let’s change your ethics around a bit.  I’m allowing you to remember that you *should* be a feminist, that it’s *wrong* to want to see women raped and enslaved.  But you’re going to do it anyway.  Because you need to.  Because it’s your career goal.  But you’re still going to feel like a filthy, slutty gender traitor for doing it, consumed by guilt, and desperate for punishment.”

 

Sarah fell to her knees.  Lachlan was right.  The guilt was there.  It was overwhelming.  The things she was going to do were wrong.  They were disgusting.  They were unconscionable.  She was a traitor to her entire gender, a traitor to every woman.  And she was going to do these things anyway.

 

She felt herself starting to cry.

 

“Is there something you want to say, Kitten?” asked Lachlan.

 

She made an incoherent sound.

 

“Use your people words, Kitten,” said Lachlan.

 

“Discipline me,” whispered Sarah.  “Punish me.  For what I’m going to do.”

 

“How should I punish you, Kitten?” asked Lachlan.

 

Sarah pulled her tits free of her blouse.  “My… whorish fuckbags, sir.  Please, hurt them…”

 

He looked at her.  It was a very tempting offer.  He could certainly see himself beating her breasts, and then pushing his cock into her mouth and giving her her evening meal.  He would enjoy it.

 

But it would be giving her what she wanted, because she had asked for it.

 

“No, I don’t think so, Kitten,” he said.  “I think you can deal with that guilt yourself.”

 

And he left her there, in her office, alone, to finish her work day.

 

How would she deal with the guilt?  Would she attempt to beat and abuse her own tits?  Would she seek out some other man to spank them?  Or would she just live with, thinking about all the things she deserved, but unable to make them come true?

 

Honestly, the speculation was far more entertaining to Lachlan than whatever joy he might have gained from spanking her sex-melons.

 

===

 

Even before Lachlan had taken control of Sarah’s career, she had been making interesting moves as the Secretary of the Department of Women, brought on by her agreement with the Minister.  

 

There was the cancer prevention campaign, that likened women to cows and advised them to “get their udders checked” - Sarah’s clever way of letting herself use the word “udders” instead of “breasts”, as required by Lachlan’s alterations to her language.  He had seen the billboards for that one springing up along the highway, and he thought it was a wonderful - and subtle - start.

 

In addition, she had ended the department’s funding for countering workplace sexual harassment, and ceased the department’s program to help girls finish their schooling.  That money was now being spent on a campaign called “It’s Okay To Be Pretty”, which showed prominent female celebrities dressed in bimbo dresses, infantilising pink outfits, high heels and pigtails.  It also showed literal porn stars, often topless or in nothing but a bikini, with slogans like “this is what success looks like”.  

 

They had even encouraged prominent feminists to take part in pornographic photo shoots, with the results displayed on women’s fashion websites and magazines.  Public money was being spent on giving women sexualised bimbo role models, and Lachlan loved it.

 

And women in the Department were doing their part to support that program - because they had been told it was compulsory.  Every woman on the floor was now wearing high heels, and most were wearing short skirts, tight tops, and push-up bras.  Many wore pink.  The effect was really quite dramatic.

 

The first Sarah Rose Awards for Workplace Empowerment were due to be awarded next week, and Lachlan had personally confirmed that they would go to women who not only were uniformly in possession of prodigiously large tits, but also that the women dressed in a borderline-scandalous manner at work, and that each was rumoured to have used sex to advance her career on at least one occasion.  Women in the workforce needed the proper role models, after all.

 

But the very first morning after Lachlan realigned Sarah’s career goals, she called a departmental meeting to discuss her further ideas.

 

“I’m calling this the ‘Green Flags’ program,” said Sarah.  “It’s about promoting healthy relationships.  Each advertisement is going to focus on a trait associated with model relationships between men and women.”

 

She held up her mockup for the first such ad.  It showed a big-breasted woman in a tight dress.  The ad copy read, “It’s a green flag when he appreciates my body.”  And then below, it read, “I love it when he stares at my udders and my ass - it shows he really values me.”

 

Taya stood up.  She was one of the few woman in the office who had made no attempt to dress like a bimbo, and she was frequently vocal in her complaints about the Department’s new direction.

 

“Is this a joke?” she said.  “Objectifying women isn’t a green flag.  And why does it say ‘udders’?”

 

“That’s what we’re calling… these, now,” said Sarah, gesturing at her own tits.  “It’s the anatomically correct name for the milk organs of a female mammal.”

 

Taya screwed up her face in disbelief.  

 

“Do you have a problem, Taya?” asked Sarah.

 

“Yes!” said Taya.  “This is ridiculous.  Have you gone insane?”

 

“I have not,” said Sarah.  “Let me show you the second poster.”

 

It showed another big-titted woman, clearly delighted by something her male partner was saying to her.

 

It read: “It’s a green flag when he calls me pet names.”  And then, “I love it when he calls me sugar, sweetie or honey - but I love it even more when he calls me cunt or bitch!”

 

Taya made a choking sound.  “You’re telling women it’s okay for men to call them a cunt or a bitch?”

 

“Of course I am,” said Sarah.  “It can be a very loving name.  I always feel appreciated and happy when men call me that.  I think it’s important to help young women have a positive attitude to those words.”

 

“I can’t…” said Taya.  “Seriously, this is insane.  I thought you were a feminist.  But you’re just… a psychopath.”

 

“Clean out your desk,” said Sarah immediately.

 

“What?” asked Taya.

 

“Clean out your desk,” said Sarah.  “That behaviour - insulting your manager - is inappropriate in the workplace.  I want you gone by lunchtime.”

 

“You can’t…” said Taya.  “You need to go through HR.”

 

“Don’t test me, Taya,” said Sarah.  “Leave, or I’ll have security escort you out.  It’s not just your behaviour today.  It’s your failure to follow the departmental dress mandate.  It’s your continued bitchy attitude in the workplace.  And it’s a range of… other matters.  Take your shit, and get out of this building.”

 

Taya stared at her.  There was complete silence in the meeting room.  Everyone could see tears forming in the corners of Taya’s eyes.  

And then she turned, and practically ran from the meeting room.

 

Sarah looked at everyone else.

 

“Does anyone else have a problem with the Department’s direction?” she asked.

 

There was only silence.

 

“Good,” said Sarah.  “So here’s the third ad for the Green Flags program.”

 

It showed a busty woman being forcefully pinned against a bed by a man.

 

“It’s a Green Flag when he knows what my body needs,” said the ad copy.  “I love it when he doesn’t take no for an answer.  It’s so much hotter when he forces me!”

 

There was silence.  Then one woman - one of the ones in the tightest, most figure-hugging pink dresses - began to clap, and soon the rest of the room was desperately, nervously clapping along with her.

 

===

 

Lachlan was in Sarah’s office immediately after the meeting.

 

“You fucked up,” he told her.  “You know you fucked up.”

 

“I know,” said Sarah.  She was already at her computer, struggling with its interface which constantly second-guessed her decisions and made her writing appear infantile.

 

“You can’t just fire Taya,” Lachlan said.  “Not for that.  She’ll be put on performance management, at best - and then she’ll make more trouble.  Maybe complain about you publicly.”

 

“I know,” said Sarah.  She sounded irritated.  Irritated - and like she was about to cry.

 

“So what are you doing about it, Kitten?” he asked her.

 

“You know what I’m doing about it,” she said.  And she showed him her screen.

 

It was the HR systems.  It was the backdoor available to Sarah for recording anonymous claims of sexual harassment.  

 

“You’re going to make fake rape claims against Taya,” said Lachlan.

 

“Yes,” said Sarah.  “So she’ll be dismissed immediately, without reason, and it will discredit her if she attempt to complain about it.”

 

“That’s not just a breach of the code of conduct, Kitten,” said Lachlan.  “That’s a crime.”

 

“I know,” said Sarah - and she *was* crying now.  “But she deserves it.  Standing up for other women is the bitchiest thing a woman can do.  And… I need to make her go away.  As an example to the other women in the Department.”

 

“Masturbate as you do it, Kitten,” suggested Lachlan.  “Ruining a woman’s life should make you want to cum.”

 

“Yes, sir,” said Kitten, hiking up her dress and beginning to rub her pussy.

 

“And when you’re done, come see me in my office,” said Lachlan, “and we can talk about what you’re surrendering next.”

 

(TO BE CONTINUED)