A Slave To Politics (part 10)
By SpeechMaster
Over the past few weeks, the sexual games have become all the more frustrating
and humiliating by the hidden, yet unrelenting control of my work life.
I secretly submit to her constant teasing throughout the work day. On especially
hectic days, she has me wear the clit vibrator with the remote. As I mentioned
before, this device is run by both a 2.4 GHz remote, which she keeps in her
pocket, or the bluetooth wireless connection with the computer in my office. She
will spend the day remotely buzzing my clit, sometimes in short, intense bursts,
and sometimes in protracted, low, simmering sessions.
Repeatedly, I dig my nails into my chair or hold my breath as I am forced to the
edge of a desperately needed orgasm. I can never get used to the feeling when
she backs off, leaving me teetering with my need and the powerful emotions that
follow. The need sometimes becomes so overpowering that I can't hold back the
tears. In my entire life, I have never wept as much as I have in the past few
weeks.
She loves to play with the remote during meetings. She will tease me and watch
my reactions. She is careful and has never taken me so far that I give myself
away to the meeting attendees.
Against my most urgent wishes, my body has become constantly alive with sexual
need. My skin is so sensitive now to the slightest touch; my nipples are almost
constantly hard and hypersensitive; my sex is constantly dribbling juice
(causing me to use so many tissue each day that I plow through several boxes per
week); and my clit's throbbing tension demanding my attention and has become the
center of my world. It is as if my body is now constantly prepared for sex.
Yet I have lost all control over satisfying my desperate and constant need. Only
Brittany has that power. And she wields this power to draw me further and
further into her inescapable web. I am sure I will be a drooling vegetable in a
matter of time.
When she does not attach the clit vibrator she will tease me in other ways. On
some days, she will lock the door to my office and require me to use a huge
dildo to fuck myself with until I am about to cum. She will order me to stop and
to suck the dildo clean. Although I am becoming familiar with the taste of
pussy, I will never get used to licking my own juices. It seems so wrong. These
sessions are more brutal to my psyche because of the wonderful feeling of
penetration. I feel a perverse loss when I have to yank the monster out of my
contracting hole. She will repeat this several times per day.
Or she will have me go into the women's room and rub my clit to near orgasm. It
is so tempting to just keep going until the amazing climax hits. But the orgasms
are so intense that I can't help but scream out when they hit. If you consider
that the woman's room in town hall is always busy, it would be apparent what was
going on in one of the stalls. That would be disastrous.
This is something that Brittany has been extremely careful about. She loves her
games and will push me to the brink of public humiliation, yet she knows where
to stop and how to keep our relationship invisible. She controls everything:
What I wear, what I eat, when I go to the bathroom, when I sleep, etc. It is the
power which fuels her intoxicating and insatiable desires.
In the afternoon, we now have a 30-minute strategy session scheduled. Brittany
will lock the door to my office and command me to strip. She sits in my chair
while I crawl under my desk. I must lick her to at least three orgasms or I will
be punished later that evening. This activity is especially degrading. For
goodness sakes, this is my office. It is my place of work. Now it is a place to
satisfy a sex-craved girl.
She has instructed me to introduce her to the city's power players. First it was
top business executives and community leaders. Then to the leaders of our
political committee. And then, last week, the mayor himself. Being the
incredibly smart girl she is (I swear that she is a certifiable genius), she
quickly analyzes the problems and weaknesses of each person she meets and, in
just a couple of days, impresses them beyond belief with the solutions she
proposes. Her photographic memory allows her to instantly connect people with
other people. Her slightly shy persona is endearing to everyone she meets.
Within the few months she has worked in my office, she leveraged her control
over me to become a connected and important person in the inner circles of power
and is working to push me out as the chief confidant to the mayor.
Brittany is also involved with every piece of my decision-making. She prepares
documents, which I must sign without the chance to review. She punishes me for
even bringing up the subject.
Today is a very special day. At 2:00PM we are meeting in the mayor's office to
discuss the details of the mayor's reelection bid this fall. Positions will be
decided and strategies developed. Impressions made today will help solidify the
power positions if the mayor wins another term. My mastery of election strategy
is unmatched and is the most important reason the mayor won his first election.
This is where I shine the brightest, and this is where Brittany's weaknesses and
inexperience will be exposed.
I go about my morning routine overloaded with sexual frustration. Over the past
few days, Brittany has tied me in bed and teased me for hours. The more I moaned
and begged and cried, the more she got off on it. For four nights straight, I
was tied tightly and played like a Stradivarius. I had to wait to be untied this
morning, allowing me to work my now expert tongue into the sweet folds of my
Mistress as she sat on my face. I have learned to read the signs of her
excitement, allowing me to return a small dose of prolonged teasing before
finishing her off with a cluster of strong orgasms.
"Go into the bathroom and prepare a one quart enema. You are to hold the
contents in your dirty little bowels until I finish my shower," she commands as
I follow her. I set up the enema bag as she tests the warmth of the water. She
knows that I hate anything up my anus, so she enjoys my humiliation as I insert
the enema and blow up the bulb to hold it in place. When I am finished filling
my bowels with the warm soapy solution, she says, "Don't let even a drop slip
out, my pet," as she gleefully pats my bloated belly.
I struggle to hold the contents of the enema as she luxuriates under the hot
streams of water. I dance a little in an effort to manage my discomfort.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, she shuts off the water and gives me
permission to go potty. I tend to her hair and makeup.
I jump in to take a quick shower. I make sure that every inch of hair is gone
below my neck. I finish the shower, dry off and rub lotion deep into my skin.
As I do my hair, I can't help but admire the way my body is changing. I look
sleek and strong, like one of the fitness models you see on magazine covers. The
strong muscles and the strict diet are accentuating my curves. God I look hot!
I quickly change into the clothes left for me on the bed. I snap on the black
underwire 1/4 bra that lifts up my naked breasts and draws attention to the
long, hard nubs of my nipples. The note on the bed instructs me to use the
electrical tape on the dresser to tape my nipples down so that they don't show
so much. This is never pleasant. Indeed, the tape works in pressing my nipples
down, but the constant pressure makes them ache incessantly, like an
unscratchable itch.
I slip on the black garter belt, which fits snugly around my waist, and roll the
dark stockings up my smooth legs. My eyebrows rise as I grab the 4-inch heels
(Brittany never allows me to wear anything higher than 2 inches in the office).
I peak at my erotic form in the mirror, which sends jolts straight to my sex. A
wave of self-loathing rolls over me as I shake off the bout of sexual
excitement. I slide on the black silk blouse and the black skirt, both very
professional and appropriate for work. It's the slut outfit underneath which
burns at my soul.
I rush down stairs to fix my mistress her breakfast. After I eat my measly 2
slices of toast and a banana, we head off to work. I can tell that something is
brewing in the mind of this evil minx.
The day starts off with a good dildo fuck in my office. My slit is dripping as I
pull the dildo out of my overheated pussy. Through the morning, she has me
repeat this over and over. By lunch, I am insane with need.
"Follow me!" she orders as she leaves my office. Not wanting the harsh
punishment, I follow behind quickly as we make our down the hall. The conference
room would befit a hundred year-old law firm, with its dark wood paneling,
paintings of mayors past, a long table with leather chairs, and a closet by the
door. Locking the conference room door behind us, Brittany turns and orders,
"Take off the blouse and skirt. Hurry up!"
She opens up the closet door and takes out one of her large gym bags. I feel so
vulnerable and ridicules, as I stand practically naked in this room. She turns
toward me with a wide butt plug, already lubed. "Hurry up and put that where it
belongs!" I struggle with this especially wide plug. With some effort, I finally
lodge the monster in my ass, with my sphincter wrapping itself painfully tight
around the small rim at the end of the plug.
"Kneel," Brittany demands. She starts a ponytail in my hair and proceeds to
weave a leather thong throughout its length. She ties it off at the end, leaving
about 2 feet of thong left.
"Stand," she orders. As she turns me around and starts tying my elbows together,
I start to become frightened. She secures my hands together as well. Without
delay, she rips the tape off both of my nipples. Although I hold back most of my
scream, a small one escaped. "I would advise you to practice your noise-control
today," she grins as she backs me up into the closet.
As she grabs something her bag of goodies, I shiver with the thought of what is
in store for me. When she returns, she backs me up further until the balls of my
heels were standing on a 2 by 4 piece of wood. "Stay on your toes," she
commanded. She kneels down and attaches ankle cuffs. She then locks chains to
each and pulled my ankles at least 2 feet apart, locking them to hooks embedded
in the wood directly beside my heels. She repeats this again with chains that
secure the inside of my ankles. I think, "two chains per foot...isn't that
overkill? I certainly can't move my feet and inch!" My stomach was now churning
with anxiety.
She uses a chair to tie the thong in my ponytail to a chain, which is hanging
from the short ceiling. "I don't have much time," she stated as she hurried up.
She put one-foot by two-foot metal plate beneath the heels of my shoes.
She used her finger to strum my clit until it was fully erect. Without warning,
she clips something on to my clit. I stifle a yelp as my body shakes.
"Here is the deal. Today is my day to shine. By this evening, a new star will be
born and your significance will be greatly reduced. I have rescheduled the
mayor's reelection meeting from his office to this conference room. After all,
this room is larger. And the meeting has been stepped up to 1:00PM. Don't worry,
you will have an opportunity to hear everything and admire my work. I will
explain your absence. But you will be here in spirit," she giggled. "I want you
to lower your heels on the floor," she requested. As I did, I could feel my heel
make contact with a strip of metal of some sort. The clip on my clit started
teasing me with electric currents. It felt awesome. I was quickly getting
excited.
"Enough. Lift up your heels, slut." I do as commanded; disappointed that I can't
cum and embarrassed that I want to orgasm so badly. The clip buzzes very
lightly, sending gentle currents through my clit.
She reaches forward and shoves a wiffle-ball gag in my mouth and straps in
behind my head. She softly runs her fingers down my cheek and along my neck. She
looks at me lovingly.
"Today we will test both your physical endurance and your sexual discipline. I
hope that you have fun today. I know that I will, just thinking of you in this
delicious predicament. Oh, I almost forgot," she said as she reached in the bag
and grabbed a flat piece of plastic. On the top were two small chains with clips
on the end. Brittany snapped the chains shut on my nipples, causing me to scream
out.
"The sign says 'Please fuck me. I beg you to spank me. I am a fuck toy. See more
at http://www.mylesbianfucktoy.com'" I start crying as my body trembles in
fear. I can't believe this is happening!!!
"You will want to keep your noises in check today, pumpkin," she said, rubbing
my cheek softly. "Otherwise, you and your kinky, slutty life style will finally
be discovered. Not only will your life be ruined, but also I will send my little
package to the police. Have fun!" She beams as she shuts the closet door and
leaves the conference room.
Here I stand scared to death. The doors of the closet are solid wood on the
bottom but have wood slats in fixed louver setting in the upper section. I can
see the floor and the bottoms of the closest chairs. The only sound I hear is
the rapid pounding of my heart.
My clit keeps receiving these delicious light charges, keeping my fire stoked
without letting the flame get too hot. I can feel a single drop of juice slowly
roll down my left thigh.
To keep my balance, I have to keep still and stand on balls of my high-heeled
shoes. I experiment by dropping my heels. My head yanks up hard as my heels hit
the metal plate, sending my clit into a buzzed frenzy. It is like a bolt of
erotic lightening sweeping through my sex.
I quickly stand on my toes again. My chest is heaving as I try to comprehend my
situation.
I suddenly hear the conference door open and several people shuffle in. My
breathing quickens as I hold completely still, afraid of being discovered. I
recognize some voices, while others are less familiar. Within minutes, the room
is filled with members of the re-election committee. Many of these people are my
closest colleagues and friends. A handful are bitter rivals who have tasted
defeat at my hands so often that they secretly hate me, even though they show me
the fake graciousness that permeates politics. And the rest of the attendees are
relatively unfamiliar to me.
I can hear the mayor as he brings the meeting to order. "Where is Alicia?" he
asks, eliciting the dreaded response from Brittany, "she is regretfully tied up
right now, working on an important donor or something. She will come as soon as
possible." I could just imagine the sly grin that Brittany is trying to contain.
"One of the most important meetings of our lives and she chooses not to attend?
We need her brilliance here today, not out in the field." Obviously, the mayor
did not catch the puns that Brittany laced her answer with.
He commences forth with the meeting. I know how these meetings drag on through
the evenings and sometimes into the wee hours of the night. I shake with the
thought.
Brittany is masterful, throwing out concise and innovative ideas that are wowing
the room. She is easily taking my place as the leader, the mastermind of the
mayor's political machine. I feel both anger and despair as I feel her steal
more of my power away from me.
The low vibration on my clit is starting to wear me down. I have been tortuously
teased all week without any relief and my body is demanding relief. I can feel
the slow leak of juices crawling down my thighs as my clit is teased
relentlessly.
And my calves are starting to ache. After at least an hour, maybe even two, my
calves are losing some strength and are cramping. In the middle of one of the
mayor's diatribes, I unknowingly let my heels touch the metal plate. The sharp
current to my clit sent a quick yelp from my throat. The room fell quiet
instantly. I jerked back up onto my toes and held my breath. Within seconds
(though it felt like minutes) the monologue resumed.
That was close. I need to concentrate on keeping completely silent, no matter
what happens.
The time feels as though it is standing still. My arms ache. My back aches. My
mind is becoming consumed with my aching calves and my pulsing clit. The clamps
on my nipples leave a dull, throbbing ache. I feel like I am going to collapse
soon. And all the while i listen to this evil girl steal my career away from me.
Brittany has again succeeded in finding a way to deepen my feelings of
helplessness.
"It's 3 o'clock now. Be back by 3:15. And Brittany, please find your boss. We
need her here now," stated the mayor. People quickly shuffled out and the room
becomes dead quiet.
I let my heels down to rest them briefly. Immediately, the clamp on my clit
fires sharp pulses, sending me quickly towards an orgasm I so desperately need.
Within seconds I am on the brink of a mind-blowing orgasm. Just as I hit the
massive peak, I scream out through my gag as my orgasm takes over. My body
spasms and shakes with the power of the awesome cum. Then a second orgasm hits,
even harder than the first. The cums are so powerful that I know that I can't
take another without screaming at the top of my lungs. I quickly lift my heels
and strain to stay up on my toes.
It takes me a quite some time to come down from that huge sexual peak. Now, my
nipples ache from the sign swinging as my chest expands and contracts heavily
with the need for oxygen. My skin is plastered with a thin film of perspiration.
My body is cramping in my shoulders, thighs, and calves. And my clit throbs as
with excitement. The low buzzing is no longer welcome. In fact, it is driving me
insane. I need a rest! Yet there is no respite in sight.
Another hour or two into this meeting, the conversation is less controlled and
more spontaneous. I hear my enemies using my absence to trash me. I want to
launch through the door and strangle them. Yet I remain here, bound, naked and
horny. My calves are starting to give in and I find myself accidentally touching
my heels to the plate. Even though I lift myself back up immediately, the short
burst of power to my clit increases my excitement level. I concentrate on my
breathing and my absolute need to keep quiet. I know that I will not be able to
stay quiet if I cum again.
The cycle repeats its self in an agonizing dance. My legs shake. I accidentally
touch my heels to the metal plate. My clit gets a blast of sexual stimulation. I
raise my heels. I struggle to regain balance and control. And excitement level
rises. For hours this goes on. Fuck juice is dripping down my legs. I need to
cum so bad I want to scream!
My Mistress is slowly stripping everything from me. I have no control left.
By nightfall, I am shaking with need and exhaustion. I am on the brink of the
most massive orgasm of my life. One long zap and I am a goner. I can imagine the
way I look, my body gleaming with sweat, my ass filled with a large plug, my
pussy sending rivers of juices down my legs, my nipples two long erect points
holding a sign that begs for anyone to use me like a fuck toy. My legs are about
to completely give out and allow me the cum I need so bad right now.
(to be continued)
