A Slave To Politics Part 5

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)