“This is a very serious text post with no hidden meaning at all.”

It was a stupid Internet meme, it wasn’t like it was subtle or anything. But then again, that was kinda the point she guessed.

She let out a sigh and leaned back on the bench, giving her chest a little wiggle from side to side as she stretched her arms over the back of the bench as well. A couple of guys walked by, casting a quick glance in her direction, but none of them took the bait.

Then an older guy, had to be twice her age at least, leered in her direction and read the words and smirked. She wanted to roll her eyes in disgust, but instead she made eye contact with him and smiled.

It was more often than not these guys, old pervs that had little self awareness of how wrong it was to come up to a young woman like herself and hit on her.

He stood in front of her, “Hey, I like you shirt.” he said.

She leaned forward, “You do, thanks. I like it too. Do you want to join me?” she asked, her mouth betraying her once more.

The man smiled broadly and nodded before taking a seat beside her. Her body followed suit and pushed up against him, her hand falling to the inside of his thigh.

“So what’s your name? I’m Cathy.” she asked, but wasn’t really interested.

“Derek. Nice to meet you Cathy.” he replied, working his arm around her shoulders and she leaned in against his side even more.

“So Derek… my place is just around the corner, do you want to have sex with me?” she asked.

The compulsion in the back of her mind finally being released, she almost sighed in relief, but she knew it would be replaced momentarily with the next compulsion.

They were her punishment… well, she wasn’t sure if it was actually a punishment as the man that had implanted them in her head didn’t seem to hold any animosity towards her. Instead he’d just seemed amused by her t-shirt and before she knew it he’d slipped in to her mind to make it true.

He was the first person she’d had sex with afterwards of course, but there had been hundreds of men and a few women since. Everyday was the same, she put on the t-shirt and went out to find someone who recognized its meaning, and then she’d proposition them. It didn’t matter if they were old or young, male or female, straight or gay, it was the recognition of the t-shirt that drove the compulsion.

She felt the second compulsion kick in as they stood up from the bench and started back towards her place, it wouldn’t be satisfied until the sex act had been completed. The days where she no one recognized the t-shirt’s meaning were the worst, as the compulsions didn’t go away just because she was unlucky.

Fortunately she’d found a way around that at least, she’d built up a few “regulars” that she could text a selfie to and at least one of them would come through for her.

She often wondered if she would ever see that man that did this to her again, but it had been months since it happened and she knew nothing of him other than a fading memory of his face. Did he ever realize he had left her in such a bad situation? Did he even remember what he’d done to her?

The only thing that kept her sane through it all was what was coming up next, the earth shattering orgasm that she’d experience when she finally had sex again. A genuine smile crossed her lips at the thought, and the ensuing calmness that would engulf her for hours afterwards.