Anal-Attentive Policies

Story by draconicon on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

A company goes through a sudden change in code of conduct and ethics, and the HR department is hit hard with a hypnotic command to change them, too.

Commissioned by Kaydrien_Iceclaw

If you want to get a commission for yourself, keep an eye on my journals and my twitter DraconiconWrite for updates on when I'm open.

If you're interested in supporting me, or just contributing more regularly - and cheaply - than commissions, consider visiting my Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/draconiconlibrary?ty=h for good rewards and better stories.

Enjoy.


Anal-Attentive Policies

For Kaydrien Iceclaw

By Draconicon

Her name was Carla Rose. One of a dozen HR managers that ruled different departments of the company, the raccoon had risen to her rank with a keen attention to detail, a cutthroat attitude for those that broke the rules, and an instinct towards fairness. She knew that there was always someone out there that was looking to kick someone above them out of their position, and the best way to fight that was to know every rule, observe every loophole, and make sure that you were always ready to fight back with paperwork.

The bosses didn't like her, and more than one supervisor dreaded having her gaze come upon them, particularly whenever there was a new set of revised Code of Conduct that came down from on high. Several had been brought to her office, interrogated, and then let go when it was found that they were harassing their employees, at best, and directly abusing them at worst.

The gaze of HR was not limited merely to the supervisors and managers, however. It was also leveled on the individual employees, reminding them to toe the line and not cause trouble from their end. After all, harassment and abuse didn't just come from above. Fellow employees were also entirely capable of inflicting suffering on another, sexual or otherwise.

So, the raccoon became something of a terror in her department of accounting, pushing down on the man-splaining, fighting against the upswing of overcompensating feminine privilege, and, on occasion, using her power as blackmail to relieve a bit of her stress with both male and female coworkers.

By and large, she was fair, but power corrupts, and she had just enough to be corrupted herself. Yet, she tried to keep it to a minimum, both for practical and moral reasons.

Her name was Carla Rose, and her job, even her life, was about to be turned upside-down.

The raccoon arrived for work with nothing on her mind. She had yet to see any breaking of the rules coming through the cubicles of accounting, and she hadn't heard any complaints as she went by the break room on her floor. That generally meant that things were running...relatively smoothly, if not as perfectly as she liked. That said, there was every possibility that others were hushing themselves up as she passed by, hoping not to be called into her office by outing themselves.

Such behavior was not acceptable, of course, and Carla planned on going through every anonymous complaint that was doubtlessly waiting in her inbox when she got to her office. There was always something, someone unhappy with someone else, someone that believed that someone was getting unfair treatment, or some boss that had pissed off an underling and said underling had filed a complaint.

It was up to her to chase down the facts of each case. There were few enough that were blatantly false, but there were more than a few that were exaggerated, or were problematic but not quite against the rules, or were difficult situations that toed the line between being outright abuse and being a low-case of harassment.

Every time, it came down to her to make a decision of how to enforce the company rules. Some people in her department hated the responsibility. Carla loved it.

After all, it's not like there's anyone else that's going to fix things when they go wrong, she thought as she opened the big embossed door to her office. If we don't fix it, who will?

To her surprise, a technician was at her computer, kneeling down at the side of the computer tower. A tigress dressed in mechanics overalls looked up at her, the white and black feline pausing for a moment before getting to her feet.

"Just fixing something."

"Badge, please," the raccoon demanded.

"Huh?"

"Your badge. I assume you have one?"

The tigress blinked again, opening her mouth before shutting it tight. Half-expecting some sort of angry rant, Carla was relieved when the other woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a laminated badge, one that had the proper marks under the name and picture to give her permission to access the different machines on manager level. Carla nodded.

"I'm sorry. I've had more than one prank up here."

"Understandable. Just told to fix. Computer fixed. Now, going?"

There was a Russian accent there, something that made her think that the other woman had been hired on due to some sort of image-fixing initiative. Not the best thing in the world, she supposed, but at least the woman had a job.

"Go on," she said, stepping out of the way. "Supervisor name?"

"No supervisor. Just worker."

Well, that's unacceptable...

Making a mental note to track down this 'Tatyana' before she could be exploited further, the raccoon stepped out of the way again, letting the tigress leave. She watched the other employee go, shaking her head once more before shutting her office door. She had work to do, and she could deal with that after lunch.

The raccoon walked around her wide desk, sitting down before examining her computer tower. The casing hadn't been fiddled with roughly, though she could see that it had been opened and cleaned. Some of the dust had come loose, which supported the tigress's story of fixing things.

She ran her hand down the front, then blinked as she found a micro-USB drive that had been plugged into it. Cocking her head to the side, she pulled it out, lifting it up to eye level.

File delivery? Not exactly standard...

But it did have the usual look of a classified drive that was used by the higher-ups in the company. More often, they sent passwords to access parts of the internal server, but she'd heard rumors that there were eccentrics in the upper levels of management that preferred to transfer hard copies rather than anything else, and this was their compromise.

Might as well...

She turned her computer on. Almost immediately, it detected the flash drive, and asked her if she wanted to open it. Instead, Carla asked for it to show the files, wanting to examine them before running them.

The raccoon wasn't surprised to find that there was an executable in the list. That was always a thing, but there were only two other files. One was a read.me that was obviously about the executable, the other was labeled "New Code of Conduct, AO version."

AO?

That was different. She opened the document, or at least, tried to. The moment she clicked on it, the computer beeped in defiance.

Document cannot be opened without first completing executable filed attached.

"Lovely..."

Shaking her head, Carla gave in to the inevitable. She double-clicked the executable file and leaned back, waiting for the inevitable slide-show or whatever else was going to happen.

Instead, the screen went black.

She had just enough time to think 'shit' before the screen lit up again, this time going bright and colorful. The raccoon arched an eyebrow as the screen turned to a sharp swirling pattern, one that pulled the eye inwards towards the center. She tried to shake her head, but as soon as it started to turn, she felt some muscle in her neck twitch, forcing her to look back at the screen.

What the hell?

Carla gritted her teeth, pulling her head to the left, then the right, even going so far as to grab the back of her head and the tip of her muzzle to try and look in a different direction. The most she was able to do was turn her body, moving her chair from side to side. Her head moved less and less, and soon, it was completely glued to the screen in front of her, her eyes moving right to the center of the strange spiral and refusing to move from it.

All the while, the twisting, turning colors were getting more and more intense. They were bright-dark-bright, always pulling her inwards, making it impossible for her to look away. The spiral patterns were changing, too, slowly going from a simple twisting series of curves to something more irregular, more like a rippling set of wrinkles that came out from the black dot in the middle.

It almost seemed familiar.

The more she stared, the less anxious and confused the raccoon felt. It was almost like she was being pulled down into a trance. No. Not almost like, she was being pulled down into a trance. She had been to enough meditative lessons after work to know what this was like. Except that this one was not something that she was doing to herself. This was being done by something else, and she wasn't sure that she liked it.

She grunted, trying to fight against it, but the pressure on her eyes and her head kept her staring straight ahead. There was no way to fight it, no way to get away from the bright colors, the dark lines, and the shapes that were slowly starting to rise out of the spiraling light. The more she stared, the more images started to pop out, and with them, words.

She couldn't make them out, but the more that she stared, the more that the wrinkled lines, the strange curves, the little black dot seemed familiar. She had to have seen this before, Carla realized, but where...

Whatever it was, she was too deep in trance to figure it out. The raccoon tried to focus on gathering evidence, of keeping facts and records as she was pushed further into trance, but the most she could do was just go along for the ride. There was no holding back, no just riding this thing out and hoping for the best. This was...

This was taking her, and the best she could hope for was that she would remember what had happened to her after it was done.

Carla slid further and further down in her chair, and the pictures on the screen stared to pop a bit more against the lines that spiraled down. She saw curves, she saw dots, she saw...

She saw asses.

The raccoon wanted to blink in surprise, but no, that made sense. The wrinkles, the lines. She was staring at a swirling...swirling asshole of hypnosis...

It was almost too comedic to take seriously, but no, that was what she was looking at, and it was slowly drawing her further and further down. Her eyes closed halfway, her body going limp and relaxed as the spiral drew all will to fight out of her.

This...this...

She couldn't even finish the thought, her eyes fixed on the black dot in the middle of the screen. It was slowly pulsating, like in some of the porn that she'd found on some of the employees' work computers. A gaping hole that clenched, then opened, then clenched, the pulsing movements drawing her mind further and further down into some sort of strange, relaxed pleasure.

And the further she dropped, the more she saw. It was like the file had been made to not reveal everything until she was deep enough to see it properly, to accept it, to understand it and take it in as truth.

Ass is respect...

Ass is respect?

She saw the images popping up, of women and men alike thrusting their asses back, showing off their rounded rumps. Small ones, big ones, the cheeks spreading and showing the curves that all genders had, if they put the effort in.

To give respect is to give anal.

Yes. On some level, that made sense. To throw your ass out, to offer your hole, that meant that you were admitting that you were below, that you were offering some respect to a superior.

To give anal is to give respect.

"To give anal is to give respect..."

She didn't know why she said it out loud, but it felt right. She nodded slowly to the images.

The hypnotic anal spiral, with the twitching, clenching butthole center, continued to draw her deeper and deeper. The images started to change, not just showing the assholes of various people, but showing them in action. A tongue almost seemed to appear in the center of the spiral, and it licked over the 'pucker' in the middle.

Carla gasped softly, swearing that she could almost feel that tongue against her own hole, feeling it licking there, digging in, flicking against her.

Rimming is respect. To rim another is to acknowledge their superiority.

"Yes...rimming is respect..."

She could feel the tongue for sure this time, almost like there was someone already between her legs. There was something about it, something about the naughtiness of getting licked back there, that sent a shiver down her spine, that made her groan under her breath. The raccoon ground her ass against her chair, feeling the thickness of it, the roundness of her own cheeks.

The images kept popping in, the hypnotic words flickering under them, filling her mind. Offering anal was offering respect to someone else, acknowledging their superiority. Offering rimming was offering a different sort of respect, a more active thing, like flattery, but as a positive review. It was something that either side could do. Either side could give rimming, like a subordinate giving a long, loving lashing of the tongue over a pucker when asking for a raise, using it as persuasion, while a manager...

Carla imagined herself on top, holding down one of the secretaries out there, one hand holding a lion's tail up, the other parting the cheeks as she delivered her evaluation through a series of tongue-lashing probes, delving her tongue into that puckering, twitching hole. The raccoon could already imagine it, and her ass clenched.

Yet, surprisingly, she was vaguely aware that her pussy was dry. It was like...like she had almost forgotten about that.

Anal is respect. Pussy is disrespect.

Anal is respect, pussy is disrespect? Why -

Anal is respect. Pussy is disrespect.

It didn't take more than a few seconds for her mind to start filling in why that might be the case. Pussy only belonged to women, and so many women were still beneath the men that they worked with. Things were changing, but for every step forward, a little bit of overreach by her own gender took them another step back.

Anal was the equalizer. Men could be fucked up the ass, and so could women. Neither would get pregnant. Neither would be harmed by it. Both could enjoy it, and learn from it.

Anal is respect. Pussy is disrespect.

"Anal is respect. Pussy is disrespect."

She nodded, falling deeper still. The hypnotic trance was putting asses of all sorts in her mind, making her more conscious of her own than ever before. Her tail fluffed a bit against the back of her head as she relaxed into it, almost acting like a pillow.

As she slumped further back than ever, she saw the spiral change again, this time taking her further towards the final step.

Anal is taking charge.

The images changed, this time showing cocks, strap-ons, and more plunging into puckers. She saw so many women falling down, so many dry pussies suddenly clenching, obvious symptoms of orgasms running through the women. Men, too, showing their cocks rising, their balls pulling tight, giving up their authority to the shaft that was plunging into them.

Strap-ons, cocks, plunging deep.

Anal is taking charge.

"Anal is taking charge..."

Carla smiled slowly, her hole clenching again, but it was a strangely weak feeling compared to the phantom sensation of wearing a strap-on, of having a fake dick to plunge into people. The hunger to have one was already overwhelming, and if she had been less relaxed, she would have been roaming through the internet, finding the right one for herself.

Instead, she sat there, letting the spiral take her further down, further towards her end goal of understanding the new code of conduct. The anal-only code of conduct...

#

Hours passed, and when the spiral was done, it was almost lunch-time. Carla blinked as she 'woke' from the trance, sitting up carefully. She looked down at the screen, saw that the executable file had finished, that the document that detailed the arrangements of the Anal-Only Code of Conduct had opened on its own.

The raccoon blinked twice, looking at it, and then leaned back in her chair again.

Someone's hypnotizing HR with this...

The raccoon thought it through for a moment, running through the possibilities in her mind. She was obviously affected by it, though not particularly bothered. She knew that she had been hypnotized, but there was something about that violation of her privacy that didn't entirely bother her. It probably should, but it didn't. That meant that someone higher-up had gone through the trouble of re-writing the preferences of those that watched the spiral, but didn't go so far as to erase the memories that they had before they were affected by it.

A loophole, though an interesting one to leave behind. She couldn't help but think that had been intentional, something to allow the writer of the file to get away with their fantasies, but also have everyone else still have some conscious desire for or against what they were going to have to do.

It was a cold thought, but she knew that they were all going to be bound by this code of conduct. She couldn't stop that, and she could already feel the urge to spread the file around the rest of the office. Judging by her knowledge of this sort of thing, the hypnotic effects would get stronger and stronger until she gave into them.

Experimentally, she opened the in-company email browser. She started typing out an email to her superior, and managed to get as far as putting in the address before her fingers froze up. The raccoon tried to type further, but instead of being able to put even a letter down, her hands remained frozen.

An anti-exposure element, then.

That fit. Whoever had decided to turn the company into a perverted anal paradise had obviously wanted to make sure that nobody ratted them out before it was complete.

That, in turn, confirmed that they were stuck with this. She still felt the urge to go through with fucking others, to put them in their place and make them realize the truth of the anal-only policies.

However, first...

Carla leaned back, tapping her fingers together, holding the urges at bay for now through the use of logic and procedure. There had been no priority message in the urge to infect others with this need, merely a requirement that it be done eventually. She put it down on the low priority list the moment, and knew it would stay there...for a few minutes, at least.

Will this harm anyone in the short term? she asked herself, tapping her fingers together.

The answer anyone else might shout at that moment was 'yes'. It was a violation of consent, it forced a fetish on others that they might not want, and it was clearly a violation of someone's state of mind. It would also force sex as a constant thing, rather than something that someone consented to and could avoid as a matter of course.

On the other hand, it was a massive thing that touched on everyone. Official company policy, as far as she could tell with the document, had been changed to reflect that. It wasn't that females alone were suddenly given a lack of choice on the matter. Males were, as well. Whether your boss was male or female, whether you were male or female, you were going to get fucked, and that went all the way up to the top tier, with the boss actually vulnerable to both the owner of the company and the board of executives.

So, it was a universal loss of freedoms, not a targeted one. And in some ways, it equalized things. Everyone had the same treatment. It was not a good thing, but it was less of a bad thing than it looked.

Will this harm anyone in the long term?

Possibly. This was something that would reach through many aspects of everyone's lives, not just their work lives. It was entirely possible that they might start acting strange to the people that knew them outside of work. Humiliation? More than likely. Difficulties holding relationships? Also incredibly likely.

On the other hand, she knew that there were plenty of opportunities for couples to start exploring, experimenting...and with the company's health plan, they were going to be fighting to keep everyone healthy, so the sudden explosion of sexual promiscuity was going to be kept under control.

She scrolled down the code of conduct a bit further, and she nodded to herself as she confirmed that sexual activity in or out of the company would not be held against employees. Code of Conduct confirmed that one could not be fired for the sexual actions that they took, and suits against breaches of monogamy were left outlawed. Effectively, every relationship in the company just went from closed to open.

Fascinating...

Carla had to give the person that wrote the document credit. They had gone through quite a few different scenarios, and made sure to cover their asses with each one. It wasn't foolproof, but there were quite a few less holes in the new Code of Conduct than she had expected. The company by-laws had probably been changed to reflect the new hypnotic files, too.

She could feel the hunger in her ass and the invisible feeling of a strap-on weighing on her, still, a hunger for anal in either form pushing at her. The hypnosis was creeping back in, trying to take control. She pushed it down for a bit longer, metaphorically sitting on it as she crossed one leg, turning to look at herself in the mirror.

She was Carla Rose, and she was an HR manager. Her first and last priority was the safety and equal treatment of everyone assigned to her particular division, and she knew that this was going to test that to the nth degree. This was a sexual assault, though one that seemed to hit everyone, and she knew that the only way that the person that started this could stay hidden would be to interact in the same way.

That said...this file will have a trace on it...I can find this Tatyana again, find out who ordered this...

That would not solve the situation, but it would go a long way towards finding the next step. Carla wrote a note to do that, then looked at herself, slowly standing up from the chair as she looked at her reflection in the glass window that overlooked the city below.

The raccoon was not what she would normally describe as a 'sexy' woman. She was a bit shorter than her colleagues, and she did not have the slender build that the vixens that walked through every day seemed to have. The secretaries that worked for the top tier bosses had builds that were long, willowy, heavy in the chest and slender in the hips.

She was the opposite. Oh, she wasn't exactly small in the chest, but her hips were where everything seemed to go. Her rump and her thighs were thick as all hell, and the skirts measured for her waist were constantly getting lifted due to the sheer size that she had to work with back there. It had led to more than one staring incident that nearly got escalated to a suit against the worker in question, but every time, she had given them mercy.

Can I put myself through this?

That was the last question that she felt that she could ask before the hypnosis would force her to do something. She looked at herself, cocking her head to the side as her ears flicked forward, back, forward. Her masked face, the black fur providing a backdrop to her bright eyes, was not twisted in anger. No. It was twisted more in...hunger.

The idea of being shoved over her desk was a hot one. So was the idea of shoving someone else over hers.

She took a deep breath, rubbed her forehead, and then went back to her desk. Cancelling the email to her supervisor, she put together a mass email for everyone in accounting, attached the executable file as well as the Code of Conduct AO version, and then sent it out.

She was surprised at the lack of regrets she felt as she did it, leaning back in her chair and folding her hands. As she looked out the windows on either side of her door, she watched as several employees jumped on the new email, their terror at her reign over them driving them to learn the new rules as fast as possible. Others, noticing them doing that, ran for their computers to do the same.

Carla wondered why this was so easy, even with the hypnosis, and she didn't take long to find the answer.

Because it's fair, she thought. The same consequences for everyone if they screw up, the same pleasures if they do well.

She folded her hands, closed her eyes, and started putting together a list. Everyone would need an evaluation of how well they'd read the rules, and she had one person already in mind.

Two hours later, more than enough for them to have gotten through the file, Carla made a call to the desk nearest hers. The rat woman answered immediately, and when told to report, Alice did exactly that.

Barely putting the phone down before there was a knock on her door, the raccoon called for them to enter. It opened, revealing a blushing, obviously shy rodent, the brown-furred rat rubbing her hands together, bald, pink skin making a rasping sound as fingers washed one another. It only took a few glances to see that the rat's nipples were hard, poking through her shirt slightly, and her tail was raised high.

"M-ma'am, I don't know - was that - did the file you sent really...is that how we're supposed to -"

"You're in the wrong position."

That was all that Carla needed to say. The word 'position' had barely fallen from her lips before Alice was yanking off her skirt and underwear, throwing herself over the raccoon's desk, pushing her hips right against the front and throwing her tail up and over her back.

It was rather impressive, actually.

The raccoon smiled, getting up and walking around her desk to the other side. Alice was shivering, her cheeks red. She had obviously read the file as well as watched it, and knew that something was going on, but she didn't have the same sort of detachment that Carla did.

Rounding the desk, she ran her hand along the rat's rump. It was a bit big, but not as big as hers. The fur was soft and well-groomed, though, and it was clear that the other woman had been applying powders to keep herself nice and dry back there, rather than getting a case of swamp-ass the way that some would have done. Carla examined her slowly, running her finger under the rat's tail, then between the cheeks.

"Mmmph..."

"You have taken good care of your asshole," she said with a small chuckle. "It looks like you've been powdering it regularly, making sure it doesn't chafe or get dried out."

"I try...it's more comfortable..."

"Have you had any practice of presenting before?"

"N-no, ma'am."

"You're doing well for all that."

She knelt down behind her employee, rubbing her fingers along the rodent's thighs, spreading the legs a bit further. The dry pussy down below meant nothing to her. All that mattered was the puckered hole a bit further up.

Spreading the cheeks properly, she saw that it was quite clean, without even a bit of sweat to mar it. That would probably change in the coming weeks, as Alice was forced to present more often, to show herself off. Higher levels of activity would mean that it would sweat more, probably be marked with seed more than once. That would be difficult for her to deal with, but the rat would have to get used to that, just as much as the rest of them.

Running her thumb along that tight little pucker, she heard Alice gasp. The other woman whimpered, covering her mouth.

"Anal is respect," Carla said.

"Anal is respect," Alice repeated, blushing.

"Do you respect me?"

"I do, ma'am."

"Then try to enjoy."

She leaned in, delivering her first 'critique' of the other woman's work with a long, slow lick between the cheeks. It was more than enough to get Alice moaning, the rat arching her back and thrusting her hips back ever so slightly. A little whimper, yes, but not enough to deserve a punishment.

Sliding around so that she knelt behind her subordinate, she pulled the cheeks further apart. This time, her lick dived past the pucker, pressing into the other woman. A little bit of bitterness met her tongue, but nothing like the filth that might have been there for someone that hadn't been so assiduous as her.

She complimented Alice on her work by diving her tongue in deeper, digging her clawed fingers into the rat's ass cheeks. She held them further apart, letting that pucker stretch with every lick, teasing it, flicking it open, making it learn what it was meant for.

"Oh, oh!" Alice moaned. "I...I think I understand, Miss Carla!"

"Mistress Rose, Alice."

That was part of the Code of Conduct, now. The terms of Master and Mistress were in force between those that were of lower rank and those that were of higher. She would have plenty of her own masters and mistresses, she knew, and they would be more than willing to educate her about her place if she didn't learn the rules properly. Just as with every other aspect of her job, she planned to give them no such excuse.

Her tongue-lashing continued, eating out the other woman's ass, driving her to a gasping, moaning frenzy. Every lick was a reminder of her place, of what her ass was meant for. Every lick instilled a reminder of what the Code of Conduct meant, that her asshole was her key to equality with others. The better she used her ass, the more she would stand out among her other coworkers.

It didn't take long for her rimming education to drive the other woman into an anal orgasm, the rat's asshole quivering and clenching around the raccoon's tongue. She smiled as she pulled her head back, wiping her lips. Through it all, Alice's pussy had stayed dry, with only her asshole reacting.

"Good. I think you understand where you need to improve now."

"Thank you, Mistress Rose."

"Say thank you with your tongue, Alice."

This time, she sat on the desk, spreading her legs. Almost instantly, the rat dove in, digging her tongue into the raccoon's pucker, pulling the cheeks apart. She knew that there had to be some sweat back there, some musk, some slightly hotter odor and flavor due to her weight, but it didn't seem to bother the rat at all. If anything, it seemed to spur her on to greater heights and urges.

That was fine with Carla. She planned to enjoy this before moving on to the next evaluation. In the meantime, she leaned back, beginning the search for the perfect strap-on...

The End