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Think About It...

This story is part of the new Slutty Shorts: Volume Two collection of short stories.


Jade from Think About It by Tori Hamlin

The call didn’t sound like a robocall. There was no slight pause after answering, and the silly, giggly, oh-so-pink voice on the other end sounded like an actual person. But Jade figured that a robocall was exactly what it was, and it wasn’t a funny one. No real person actually sounded so brainless and ditzy. And no real person would call and ask such a stupid thing.

“If you’d like to, um, hear a fact about tits, push one. If you don’t wanna, push two. If you, like, hang up, um, we’ll try back.”

Jade pushed two and hung up. The call was just one more annoying, objectifying, stupid thing on top of an already annoying, objectifying, and stupid day at the office. Already, the new guy, Lance had given her bottom a pat when she’d shown him to his office. Her boss, Mr. Barret, was his usual, demeaning self, calling her “sweetie,” or, “honey,” every time he summoned her to his office. What made this worse was that he continually interrupted her work for menial tasks that he could easily do himself.

“Could you fetch me a coffee, sweetie?”

“Would you take this down the hall to Jenkins, honey?”

“Could you put this reference guide back up on the shelf, darling?”

Jade did it, of course. He was the boss. Each time she’d perform one of these tasks, she could feel his eyes on her bottom or her breasts, even though her attire was completely office-appropriate.

At lunch, the text message came.

“If you’d like to, um, read a fact about tits, reply Y. If you don’t wanna, reply N. If you, like, don’t do somepin, we’ll try back.”

Certain that one of her pig co-workers was playing a prank, Jade pushed N and locked her phone. When she got back to her desk, it was an email.

“If you’d like to, um, read a fact about tits, click here. If you don’t wanna, click here. If you, like, don’t do nothin, we’ll try back.”

Now it was getting ridiculous. Jade clicked for no, then clicked to “report spam,” and went on with her work. She nearly cursed at her phone when it rang again near the end of the day and that same, silly, giggly, oh-so-pink voice repeated the question.

“If you’d like to, um, hear a fact about tits, push one. If you don’t wanna, push two. If you, like, hang up, um, we’ll try back.”

“Stop calling me!” Jade hissed into the phone. “Nobody wants to hear facts about… about breasts!”

She hung up and blocked the number. A new message came only moments later, from an unknown number, with the same goddamn message!

“If you’d like to, um, read a fact about tits, reply Y. If you don’t wanna, reply N. If you, like, don’t do somepin, we’ll try back.”

Jade sighed and figured this was only going to end if she just gave in and let the voice tell her a fact about breasts. And so, she pushed Y. The reply came a second later, obviously a canned response.

“Fact: A girl’s intelligence decreases proportionally with the size of her tits. Bigger=dumber. Think about it.”

Jade muttered to herself and deleted the message. That wasn’t a fact. That was nonsense. But she couldn’t help but think about it.

Jade had large breasts but she didn’t think she was any less intelligent than anyone else in her office. Still, she found herself thinking about it throughout the evening. Before long, she was mentally comparing her breasts with those of other intelligent and successful women she knew.

Alice, the head of accounting, had relatively small breasts. She drove a BMW and was respected in the office. Brenda, the desk girl in the lobby, had large, round breasts that she showed off a lot. Brenda was always making mistakes and she drove an old Toyota. Carol, the VP of the company, had small breasts and drove a Mercedes. Everyone respected Carol. Jade had breasts nearly as large and round as Brenda’s, but she wore tight sports bras to crush them to her chest and make them seem smaller.

As she dwelt on this, she began to wonder if she was, in reality, trying to give people the illusion that she was smarter than she really was by making her breasts look smaller. Was the voice right? Was it really a fact? She went to bed that night, thinking about her breasts, how large they were, and feeling somewhat ashamed that she wasn’t smarter and more successful.

The next morning, it was another phone call.

“If you’d like to, um, hear a fact about tits, push one. If you don’t wanna, push two. If you, like, hang up, um, we’ll try back.”

Jade moved to push two this time, but she had a sense of unease, after spending all night thinking about her breasts. Maybe it couldn’t hurt to know one more fact. She pushed one.

“Fact: Every person is more interested in discussing your tits than hearing your opinion on any subject. Think about it.”

The line clicked. Jade thought that this was rubbish. No person with any decency would be more interested in having a conversation about her tits, than having a conversation of substance. It wasn’t a fact. It was a stupid prank.

But Jade thought about it on the way to work, as she drove her Toyota, only two years newer than Brenda’s. She thought about it on the way up the elevator to her floor, and she thought about it as she sat down to read her email. She thought about it when Mr. Barret called her into his office for coffee, and she thought about it as she poured him one cream and no sugar.

On the way back to his office, she paused and adjusted her tits, now even thinking about her tits as tits. When she brought him the coffee back, she decided to put the facts to the test.

“Mr. Barret, sir,” she said timidly as she set the coffee down.

Barret raised his head from his desk and looked at her tits. Jade blushed.

“Do you think that the recent downturn is going to have a negative effect on our ability to produce and hit this quarter’s goals?” she asked.

It was an intelligent question. It was a reasonable question. It was the kind of question that a valued and