by Emily Tilton
“No, thanks,” Sally said. “I’m not that hungry. I’ll have them send me up a sandwich later, I think, if I get the munchies.”
Rhonda smiled and nodded, now clearly trying to ensure that Sally didn’t suspect that her chief of staff had developed a real worry concerning the St. Hillary Island matter. She rose.
“See you tomorrow at nine. Can’t wait to see that running skirt.”
Chapter Fifteen
As soon as Rhonda had left the office, the phone buzzed in Sally’s breast pocket. Full of dread, she pulled it out.
Good girl. You get to come later. You may not touch yourself, however.
Then, nothing. The vibration inside her stopped.
Sally waited there in her office for Master Eric to do the next terrible thing, but she waited in vain. She looked around, yet again, feeling utterly ridiculous now but unable to shake the feeling that if she turned her head quickly enough she would see him, or his camera, or some trace of him lurking just outside her peripheral vision.
She looked down at the great seal on the carpet, and chewed on the inside of her cheek.
He can’t really mean... she thought, and then the idea of what he couldn’t really mean made her clench inside even though the vibration had ceased down there. Sally pushed desperately back against the part of her mind that wanted that mortifying sensation back. She didn’t know how she had managed not to cry out during the meeting with Rhonda, when her master had tormented her with just enough pleasure and just enough pain to make it barely possible to speak.
He can’t really mean... her brain tried again, and then she saw it in her mind’s eye, so clearly that she knew her master must really mean it: the governor in her running skirt with no panties and no bra, the horrid black ‘toy’ inside her, threatening to drop out of her as she ran. Sally Donaldson forced to think about ensuring that her legs stayed closed at all times when a camera might find just the right low angle to see what the governor had under her skirt.
She had her hands on the back of the armchair she had occupied during the meeting with Rhonda. Suddenly, at the image of herself, blackmailed into doing the Madison City 5K fun run with a vibrator and punishment device in her pussy and no panties on, her fingers gripped the upholstery hard. She had clenched again on the bulb of the thing inside her, and it had made her hips jerk and her back arch, as if a man stood there behind her ready to put his hardness inside and fuck her over the chair.
But the vibrator and the terrible probe on her clit remained quiet. She held the back of the chair even harder, because the urge to put her right hand inside her pants and feel the lacy front of the white thong, the silicone thing emerging and claiming her inside them, became suddenly overwhelming.
I need it so bad. I’m a dirty girl who needs her master’s cock so bad. The thoughts surfaced, and Sally felt the blood rush to her face and to her pussy at the same time, while the rational part of her fumed at her weakness.
That reasoning corner of her mind stood her up and marched her to the bathroom, doing its best to distract her with the menial, conventional need represented by her full bladder.
The moment she reached the white-tiled sanctuary, though, she remembered what her rational mind had done its best to forget: what Master Eric had said about the toilet. She stood in the middle of the floor and looked at the porcelain seat. Her eyes went to the mirror, and she started a bit to see that she really didn’t look any different from the young governor who had stopped there to pee after her 5:30 with Rhonda the previous evening.
She had her pantsuit on, and no one could tell that underneath it she had been made to wear the kind of pretty, lacy lingerie she had decided she would never wear. No one would ever have been able to divine, looking at Governor Sally Donaldson, that she wouldn’t be wearing a pantsuit tomorrow or, it seemed, ever again.
That when she pulled her pants down, now, to sit on the toilet, and then the lacy panties in which her master had dressed her, she would have to leave the black device that it seemed now controlled her in place. She would have to pee on it, and then wipe herself—very awkwardly, she felt certain—and then take the thing out and clean it and put it back in her newly hairless pussy before she washed her hands.
New You. Governor Sally Donaldson had a new life, now, and the worst part was the helpless little thrill of need that shot through her at all these terrible thoughts, and how deep down she wanted to speak to her master in the knowledge that he would hear her even in the bathroom and plead with him to turn the vibrator on again.
Now the fullness of her bladder became urgent, the way it seemed to do when she got close to the toilet, no matter how tightly she’d clamped down during a meeting or while writing an important email. She had to squeeze hard, and it made her whimper with forced pleasure because she had the toy inside her, and the terrible need grew even stronger—so strong that her body nearly went in the opposite direction, and let some of pee out.
Then, to Sally’s horror, the device did start to vibrate, much more strongly and more loudly than it had yet, even in her bedroom when Master Eric had made her come, Her whimper turned into a helpless moan, and then a cry that echoed off the tile and then she came. Sally came very, very hard, and the pleasure overwhelmed her so completely that she didn’t notice she had started to pee in her pants until she felt it running down her leg.
“No... oh, no... please, no... sir, please... no...” she moaned as she felt it happen. Nothing so shameful had ever even occurred to her as a possible event in the life of a powerful, independent young female politician. Governor Sally Donaldson wet her lacy panties and her pantsuit, and the yellow pee ran down her legs over her trouser socks, into her black pumps, and onto the tiled floor.
Through it all her pussy kept coming and coming because the toy kept buzzing, the sound coming clearly from inside her pants. Sally had to put her hands on the counter to hold herself up, hanging her head and closing her eyes so that she wouldn’t catch the slightest glimpse of her face, because to look at herself in the mirror, ever again, seemed impossible now.
The phone, once again in the breast pocket of the pantsuit she had just ruined—or at least it felt to Sally like she could never, ever wear it again even if Master Eric permitted her pants, or she escaped somehow—buzzed, and kept buzzing so that Sally knew it was a call and not a text message. Inside her, the vibrator buzzed, too, while she released the final drops from her bladder, helpless to do otherwise because it felt too good while at the same time feeling so terribly shameful.
Somehow she found the presence of mind and the will to fish the phone out of her pocket with her right hand, while she bounced and shook, her left hand still gripping the counter edge and her eyes still closed. The vibrator inside her abruptly lowered its intensity sharply. Sally couldn’t keep her backside, now covered in soaking wet fabric, from jerking, or her knees from bouncing, as her pussy responded to the transformation of the tormenting pleasure to a teasing hum.
The phone, which she held to her ear, kept vibrating, too, until she realized that she hadn’t picked up the call. With a little sob of frustration she managed to work her thumb around to tap the button, and she heard Master Eric say at the other end, “You’d better get yourself cleaned up, sweetheart. Wash those panties and hang them up to dry. You’ll be naked for the rest of the night—except for your controller.”
For a moment Sally could do nothing but pant into the phone as her brain tried to absorb the awful things her master’s voice had said. “My... what?” she finally managed.
“Your controller, Sally. That’s the thing between your legs. It will control your behavior, from now on.”
* * *
Waking up naked in her bed the next morning, Sally tried for long moments to pretend that the lewd things in her memory had only been a dream. She kept her eyes closed, and she tried not to move, so that she could imagine that she had pajamas on, that she didn’t have a black thing called a controller between her legs, inside her smooth pussy.
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To her horror, her phone buzzed on the night table.
They don’t know I’m awake, she thought to herself. She let it go on buzzing.
Then she yelped, because the controller had given her a sharp shock, right on her clit. Her body tensed up, but she remained motionless, telling herself that she could withstand it, that she would resist now. The next shock came, and she whimpered, and her bottom squirmed. It didn’t hurt that much—that was almost the problem, because after the shock faded, to her dismay, the need built there, and the ache further in, and she found herself wanting the vibrator’s stimulation.
Another shock, and Sally cried out and reached for the phone. As she touched it, the vibrator did start, at the low, teasing level, and that made her sob into the phone as she picked up the call.
“Sally?” Rhonda said at the other end of the call.
It took every fiber of Sally’s being to keep from gasping as the heat instantly flooded into her face. She swallowed hard.
“Hi,” she tried.
“Are you okay?” Rhonda sounded both worried and suspicious.
“Yeah... you woke me up. I think... a bad dream.” Sally felt like she was babbling, but she had no idea what else to do. Her hips were moving rhythmically now, in the bed, shamelessly, because no one could see, could they, and it seemed to make the need easier to bear. “Fine now.”
“Alright, well, I’ll be by in an hour to leave for the fun run.”
“Thanks,” Sally said, managing to keep her voice reasonably even before she pressed the end-call button and let out a whining moan from between her lips.
The phone buzzed again, this time with a number she didn’t recognize. Breathing hard, she picked it up.
“Good girl,” she heard Master Eric say. “Now I want you to pull back the covers and lie on your back with your knees up and spread. Put me on speaker.”
“Oh, no... sir, please,” Sally said weakly. “I have to get up.”
“You have plenty of time, Sally,” her master responded sharply. “Do as you’re told.”
She could hear in his voice—it seemed she always could hear it, now—what would happen in just a moment, and her heart jumped.
“Please... no, please...” she begged into the phone.
But the controller shocked her, even as the vibrator turned up and made her need all the greater. Sally cried out, and then she scrambled to obey, kicking her feet to push the purple comforter and the lavender sheets down the bed.
“You need to learn, Sally Donaldson, that when I ask you do to something, I won’t tolerate answering back. Do you understand?”
Again she heard the note in his voice that meant he would punish her, and again the shock came.
“Yes, sir,” Sally sobbed into the phone.
“Get those legs open for me this instant. I want to see your pussy with my controller in it.”
Sally’s body obeyed, as though her mind, lagging behind by a second, had nothing to do with it. She raised her knees and opened them, and offered her smooth, hairless pussy to whatever view Master Eric had of her room.
“Put me on speaker,” he said, and she did that, too, laying the phone down by her side. Now his voice came to her in a way that suggested somehow both that he was in the room with her and that he had become more disembodied and powerful in his invisibility. “Move the probe from your clit to your anus, Sally,” he said. “Put the tip inside your rectum. I’m going to shock you there, to teach you a lesson and to remind you that I’m saving your anus for my personal pleasure.”
Chapter Sixteen
On Eric’s screen, Sally’s body reacted to his lewd instruction even before she began to beg. Her hips rose off the bed a full two inches, and her face crumpled into a mask of need and woe.
“Please... sir, don’t... I’ll... I’ll never disobey again.”
“If you do it right now, Sally, I’ll make you come afterward. If you don’t, you’ll be whipped when you see Judy on Friday to have your pussy waxed, and you won’t get a fucking either.” Eric dialed up the vibrator a single notch as he said the word fucking, and Sally let out a helpless cry of arousal and forced pleasure. On Eric’s screen, her 10 flashed—the first recalibrator she had had since her orgasm after putting the controller in.
“Oh... no, please... I’m...” Her fingers twitched on the lavender sheet and her hips bounced again. “I’m so scared. Please... don’t do that. I’ll be good.”
“Put the probe in your anus this instant, Sally,” Eric said into his headset, and now he used the sharp tone of voice that Sally had begun to respond to just as she should.
The chat message from Nora that popped up on his screen confirmed his strategy: Yes. Perfect.
Eric had given her a rational scheme of consequences: the reward of an orgasm if she accepted this terrifying, filthy new form of discipline; the punishment of a whipping and the deprivation of the hard fucking the young governor now craved so urgently if she delayed. Such persuasion, however, would not accomplish the goal of deepening her service to her master on its own: his scheme of training would turn entirely on activating the need for sexual discipline he had already awakened in her.
Sally knew that when her master’s voice sounded like that, he was about to punish her directly with the device he had placed on her body to teach her to obey him. Her body understood at a level far below conscious thought that her clit would now receive a shock. Her right hand flew to the controller and her fingers took hold of the probe.
The logic of her body functioned irrationally, or course, for a reasoned interpretation of the situation might dictate that she pull the thing away at the risk of having her fingers shocked. But the essence of the training Eric had given her so far—and would keep giving until Governor Sally Donaldson became the obedient bed girl he intended her to be—rendered her, at these moments of submissive arousal, ready to respond not to such rational thought, but to the lewd needs her master had awakened.
“Please...” she whispered. “Please, no...”
At the same time, though, she had started to turn the toy around, and a wordless moan came from her chest at the feeling of the rotation inside her, the vibration inside causing her bottom to squirm with a spasm of pleasure.
“Please,” she whimpered as she touched the slim rounded tip of the probe to her wrinkly, adorable, pink bottom-hole.
“Inside, Sally. A full inch.” Eric stopped the vibration completely.
“Oh, no,” she whispered, but the need made her push, and she cried out softly at the forbidden sensation. Her arousal had dipped to 9 for a moment when Eric had turned the vibrator off, but now it went back up to 10.
“Put your hands at your sides, dirty girl,” he instructed.
“Please, please, please,” Sally whined in a little chant as her shaking hands obeyed. “Please, sir.” She had her eyes tightly closed. Her pretty little nipples were stiff, her pink knees and her creamy thighs trembling violently. The controller looked so moving emerging from her sweet, hairless pussy and entering her tiny anus, that Eric’s cock leaped in his jeans.
He turned the shock up to the second level, and pressed the button. He held it, while Sally screamed, her hips and backside jerking desperately up and down and her hands gripping the sheet until their knuckles turned white. The shock only lasted two seconds, but he knew how much longer it must have seemed to her: Sally’s whole body tensed, and her scream became a pitiful sob as her master gave her the anal training she had earned.
Before he had even lifted his finger from the shock button, though, Eric had also turned on the vibrator, and had begun to turn it up. The controller had a shape that let it stimulate a girl’s g-spot whether its probe was on her clit or in her anus, and Eric exploited that feature to the full, now.
Sally moaned. Her hips jerked. From the 7 to which her arousal had fallen during her shameful punishment, she soared to a 9 and then a flashing 10. The alarm sounded, pre-orgasm giving way to orgasm almost immediately.
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�Good girl,” Eric said softly. “That little bottom is learning, isn’t it.”
“Yes, sir,” she sobbed. “Thank you, sir.”
“You’ll keep the probe in your bottom for your fun run, sweetheart,” Eric murmured into his headset. “It will remind you under your running skirt who you belong to.”
He turned the vibrator up another notch.
“Yes, sir,” Sally managed in a choked voice, as another anal orgasm ripped through her.
Eric lowered the intensity of the stimulation gradually now, letting Sally fade back into her regular life, knowing how the embarrassment would take hold once her sated body relaxed.
“Go ahead and get out of bed, now, dirty girl,” he said. “You may go to the bathroom, and you may take out your controller if you need to, and wash it before you put it back in and get dressed.”
The beauty of the training the Guard had designed for Sally Donaldson lay in the urgent strength of the connection between shame and sexual desire that Eric had now put into full effect. Sally would feel pure mortification as she walked to the bathroom naked but for the controller, surely feeling very shaky on her feet after her morning training.
As soon as she took the controller off, however, the ever-present seeds of her submissive sexuality would send up shoots of need, and the ambiguous feelings would make her warm between her legs even as her cheeks turned pink. By the time she washed the black device, put lube on it to get it ready to enter her again, and had to reinsert it with the knowledge that it would be with her, under her cute blue running skirt, all morning, the lube would barely be necessary.
* * *
The Guard had three drones deployed for the fun run, along with the van for the finish line. Rhonda had done precisely what Eric expected she would do, after hanging up: she had scanned her apartment and discovered the surveillance camera he had just put into loud mode precisely so that the governor’s chief of staff would find it. Now she smiled innocuously at the people with whom Sally, looking remarkably healthy and cheerful thanks to her blushing face, shook hands at the starting line in front of the ultra-modern state house. Eric could see the tension in Rhonda’s shoulders even from his vantage point in the air, and when he zoomed in he could read the furious speed of her thoughts whenever she looked around.
