Let her go home

You take a deep sigh. "Make a waiver for her. Gather her things and send her home to her family."

Your head of security is shocked. "But sir, she hasn't completed enough lessons for an immediate exception. If we start..."

"I think she's done fine." You interrupt. "And I'm in charge here right?" He nods. And you nod. And just like that the men and the woman disappear out your door.

You flop back into bed, groaning. What a night. You jerk off, wishing that you'd gotten to know that woman better. Of course you told yourself before this whole adventure started that it would probably be a bad idea to get into the habit of fucking the attendees here. Still, she was as eager as any woman you've ever encountered.

___

The next morning, word has spread quickly. It's one of the first things that Meredith says to you as she reports for work. "So... everyone knows what you did for that woman last night." She gathers some of your loose papers.

"What I did?" You're not thrilled with where this is going.

"How you let her home early." Meredith clarifies, to your relief. "You know she runs a non-profit to benefit the homeless and hungry. It's good that she's going back.

You chuckle, thinking to yourself that the homeless and hungry are about to get benefits they never expected. Then you look up at Meredith. "Well, it was the right thing to do."

She gives you a tiny little smile, almost like she's trying not to but can't help it. "I guess that was pretty cool of you."

___

By the end of the week, the number of women enrolled in lesson plans has skyrocketed from 54% to 89%. They all think they'll get exceptions and get sent home early. If they end up like the woman in your bedroom, maybe they will.

"My roommate Amy is telling me to consider it." Meredith explains. Up until now she's been resisting, content to do her shit, do her time, and go home unchanged.

This requires a soft touch from you. "You know, when I first met you, you said that whatever we were doing here wouldn't work on you."

She gives you a curious look. "So you're saying I shouldn't do the lessons?"

"I'm saying, if you're above it all, what's the harm in doing them?" You make your case. And Meredith seems to give serious thought to your point.

___

Three days later you get a call from HR: "Meredith has asked if she can be excused from work on Tuesdays so she can add lessons to her weekly routine."

You approve.

___

One week later, she arrives for work back in the tight green dress, the same one she bitched about. You suspect you know why, but you must play your part.

When you see it, you act infuriated. "What the fuck?" You say, unable to keep yourself from taking a peek at her nice cleavage. "Do I need to fire someone again?"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait..." Meredith interrupts. "I'm just... trying this... 'cause I want to this time."

"Oh yeah?" you hold off from saying anything too snarky.

"Well, it's just a dress. It's just me using my body, which is one of my tools, to get what I want. If it helps me get what I want, then what's the harm?" She says, echoing words you know you've seen in approved lesson plans.

"What is it that you want?" You ask. Meredith gives you a long look. Either she doesn't know, or she's not saying.

___

The next day another tight, short dress. The next day another. After a week it practically seems like her uniform. Of course she's still not tending to her frizzy mop of hair, her lack of makeup, her armpits, which, now that she's wearing these dresses you can see go unshaven. One day she bends over to pick a pen up off the floor and there's her bushy red slit, right there for you to enjoy.

Your cock grows, and you shake your head in disbelief. Whoever sets up the lesson plans is a talented fucker.

___

That night you lie in bed, thinking of Meredith; angry, hairy, scantily clad, feminist Meredith. You wonder what will become of her.

It's late. Far too late to get a phone call, but you get one anyway.

"Sir," the voice says. It's your head of security again. If he can't get his shit together, you may have to do something rash. "We caught one of the girls trying to escape. And she's asking to speak with you. I know that's not our standard procedure, but we thought you'd like to know, because..."

"Who is the girl?" You ask, somewhat expecting the expected answer.

"Her name is Meredith." Security says.