Checkpoint - Cover

Checkpoint

Copyright© 2009 by Thinking Horndog

Chapter 3

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 3 - Early New Years morning, Pete Connors and his ladies stumble into a police sobriety checkpoint -- or is it?

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Harem   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   BBW  

I eyed her and said, "One more hot, high-performance pussy would probably put me in my grave!" When you start looking forward to NOT fucking, you're DEFINITELY getting too much; I knew that when I got picked up, augmentation would increase both my interest and my capabilities, but in the here and now I was servicing three women regularly -- and I had to take one day off in four in order to do a proper job! Filling that fourth day with another hungry gash would likely leave me anemic, at least, as I was pushing large quantities of protein out my dick on a regular basis. Pussy is wonderful stuff; having too much to be able to appreciate it properly is, well, sad.

"Maybe you should be looking for something else, then," Mona replied, and started digging through the forms. The forms themselves didn't mean anything, of course -- they were just releases. I was in the doghouse with HR for being the visible reason for a couple of major policy changes, the first being the stuff they had to put together to suffer Mona's presence on-site under my supervision, and the second being the whole sexual harassment waiver thing. HR made Mona and I sign some forms that made it clear that the company didn't owe her anything -- they weren't obligated to pay her or anything, they merely allowed her to be there -- and I was responsible for her. She had to sign a nondisclosure agreement, blah, blah, blah ... While it wasn't the letter of the agreement, Mona could basically see anything I did -- and that meant she could help out, although she was not obligated to any more than the company was allowed to pay her. Sitting around bored didn't work for her, though, and soon she was 'helping out' more than some salaried employees.

The sexual harassment waivers weren't REALLY my fault, although they covered Mona and she signed one; they were coming in, anyway, as a more or less necessary change. We had to go to a briefing by the legal department and HR and sign a paper that said we knew about the waivers. Some snippy HR bitch (okay, if you're in HR and you're offended, I apologize, but for every HR person I ever met who had any sense and truly cared for people, I've met three who embraced every stupid idea in the book and did fucked up things like post job requirements that specified ten years' experience with a product that had been out for two. If you're in group one, I apologize humbly; if you're in group two, suck it up... ) stood and declaimed on the matter for a while in terms that indicated that she didn't want to get her tongue dirty making things understandable, then the guy from the legal department got up and earned his keep by managing to keep it clean while making things clear to the densest of us. Basically, the deal was that company dress codes, fraternization policies, blah, blah, blah, continued to be in place -- but you COULD opt out. If you did, the company wasn't liable in any way, shape, or form. "Ladies and Gentlemen," as he put it, "If you sign a waiver and choose to wear clothing that displays a sexual characteristic on company property, you need to remember that you are displaying it to EVERYONE, not just one or two individuals of your choice. That means that ANYONE may examine or comment upon said characteristic, and you waive the right to complain about it. The rules are deliberately permissive, up to and including actual sexual acts. No still means no and unwanted sexual contact continues to be illegal -- but the company is NOT liable in any way, shape or form; you need to contact law enforcement if you wish to pursue a complaint against an individual who violates your person; you waive any right of civil action against the company for allowing you to pursue your sexual identity. Did you all get that?" Several people present appeared befuddled, so he said, "Let me throw out an example. Let's say that a young lady in Sales notes that her bust gets her a certain amount of attention, and she determines that her sales quota will be more easily filled if she bares it. To do so, she must sign one of these waivers, and if she does so and she wanders past the warehouse and gets wolf whistles, that is NOT grounds for a sexual harassment claim. Despite the fact that her display is intended for customers, if the warehouse staff is exposed to it, they are free to comment upon its size and so on, either favorably or unfavorably. If this young lady doesn't want the warehouse staff to see and comment upon her bust, she needs to cover it up, not expect the warehouse staff to pretend to ignore it. Moving things up a notch, the young lady may even allow others to fondle her bust if she wishes, in locations and at times that don't interfere with company operations. Should an individual decide to do so WITHOUT the young lady's permission, the authorities should be called and the assault reported. The company is NOT in the business of determining the guilt or innocence of any party involved in such a case and all consequences will be confined to those imposed by the legal system. By signing the waiver, the young lady absolves the company of any responsibility in the matter; the company is neither criminally nor civilly liable for situations wherein the company's policy of allowing free sexual expression leads to untoward results." The lawyer looked around and sighed. "To be a bit more graphic, if you expose your breasts and a dirty old man eyeballs them and drools, tough. If you don't want them seen by him, cover them in his presence. If he insists upon feeling you up, call the cops -- don't bother HR. Don't expect us to fire him if you don't win your assault case and he doesn't go to jail -- don't even expect us to suspend him, with or without pay, while the incident goes through the courts. Frankly, if you sign one of these, it is going to damage your ability to win a rape case."

A woman in the back raised her hand. "What if I don't sign a waiver and I don't want to see?"

The lawyer pursed his lips. "We'll handle it in the least disruptive manner possible. See your supervisor for alternate seating, for instance. I'm looking for an extreme case for this, so bear with me. If a gentleman exposes his genitalia to you and you find it distasteful, look away. If that doesn't work, pointing and giggling might..." That got a laugh. "If he's persistent, discuss it with your supervisor -- no doubt the individual's productivity is down if he's waving his privates under your nose on a regular basis. If he IS your supervisor, feel free to discuss it with HIS supervisor or with HR."

He looked around. "We expect some tolerance from those who do not sign waivers -- and we expect some effort at decorum from those who do. Extreme behavior will get you disciplined because it is disruptive -- I would recommend avoiding actual sexual activity in the cubes. We'll be looking for locations to designate; for now, break rooms are probably your best bet. Make sure your boss and co-workers aren't going to be too distressed about it before you come to work nude -- it's the polite thing to do. And messing with someone who hasn't signed a waiver and isn't interested IS sexual harassment and WILL be dealt with, even if it isn't in a zero-tolerance manner." He glanced around again. "A couple of things: Either this thing is on or off. If on Monday Brenda X sticks her bare breasts in your face and you cuddle them, then on Tuesday she does it again, but you're not interested because you discovered on Monday she has implants, then on Wednesday she comes back, don't go to HR, waiver or no waiver. What you have is an interpersonal relationship problem, not a sexual harassment problem; you gave up your right to file a complaint when you felt Brenda up on Monday. If Betty shows up on Thursday to see if you have blood in your veins, then you have a complaint against Betty -- IF you don't test drive her. Another note -- if you dress as if you signed a waiver, expect to be treated as if you signed a waiver. Don't go running to HR because you exposed yourself and got commentary on it, but haven't signed a waiver -- go home and change clothes, or sign a waiver; that's what HR will tell you to do. Are we clear? I'll be available to answer individual questions." He grinned. "In fact, I'll enjoy it."


So, anyway, Mona starts going through the waivers; there was no requirement for anyone to actually give anybody else a copy of the form, but girls did it. There were little stickers you could put in your cube that said 'Free Expression Zone' to clarify things -- but I digress, again ... The point was that someone had generated a little sticky-note form that allowed you to stick a 'personal ad' to the waiver, telling the recipient that not only was it safe to play, but how interested the girl was and in what. The thing had been written tongue in cheek, with entries like:

"Sex: (Circle All Applicable) Male Female Hermaphrodite Transsexual"

and

"Preference: I am: Straight Gay Bi Undecided"

and

"Practices: I do: Oral Anal Groups Bikers Interracial Dogs BDSM Whatever you tell me to do"

(that last was a popular choice). The girls filled them out, anyway, including the obvious jokes. Physical characteristics were on it, too, as well as contact info, an a little space for a free-text note -- usually a come-on. I'd read a bunch of them for amusement, but nothing had stuck out. Mona went through them, with numerous giggles, while I resolved someone's printer problem, and separated them into two piles.

"This is the adult personals," she told me, "and this is just the personals." The first stack held the vast majority of forms; the second turned out to be only one. I picked up the 'personal.' The sticky note was filled out meticulously, even providing info that wasn't anything impressive, like the fact that her height-to-weight ratio wasn't that good (it wasn't awful, either, but she wasn't going to be a swimsuit model). Most chicks filled out the good parts and left out the bad, like the one who filled in the fact that she had 44DD breasts, but managed to not mention the fact that she was five foot three and weighed 240 pounds. Brown hair, brown eyes, glasses, 38D ... nothing seemed impressive. But she hadn't written anything in the text box but, "Please see the letter," -- no come-on or anything like that. I took a look at the piece of paper clipped to the waiver and the sticky note:

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