Seduced in the Name of the Law

I could barely keep my balance now, my hips rocked with desire, trying to push my dripping pussy closer to my stretched left fingers. But every time it came too close, my right hand pushed it away. "I want your confession for kidnapping, Madame." Why had I said that? "Oh god. So hot." No matter why I said it, it felt like throwing gasoline on a bonfire. My left fingers reached my pussy lips, smearing my sex juice around the edges. If I could just reach my clit ... but my right hand was still too strong.

"Of course you do, Felicia. You will find out everything once you give in. Once you obey. How will my confession help you? There is no one here to witness it." Her commanding eyes seemed to devour my imagination. "No one to witness how much you need to cum. How much you need to obey."

I couldn't tell her about the recorder. I needed to touch my clit. I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I would die if I didn't cum soon. "I have—No! Oh god—Oh god—Please—I have a recorder in my purse! Aaahhh!" My right hand collapsed as my left hand dove deep into my wet, obedient cunt. Masturbation had never felt as good as when I found my clit and began to circle it. My eyes were still closed tightly, but I saw stars.

"Good girl, Felicia. Losing the struggle feels so good. Obedience feels so good. Being weak before me feels so good. It feels like your orgasm is getting bigger, and bigger, but not quite here yet. Not until I say so. Open your eyes, Felicia." I blinked my eyes open and looked up at beautiful, commanding Madame Justyne towering over me. She held my purse open, and pushed the concealed OFF switch, then ERASE. I had failed. I nearly came right then. My toes curled.

"Your left hand cannot stop teasing your clit. It can only rub faster when you obey me. It can only make you cum when you've given up all hope of fighting me. Your desire will make you mine." She leaned down over me, a goddess of awesome and wicked and irresistible beauty. "I will turn that clit into a leash on your soul. I will make you beg me to betray your agency from the inside. As with everything, you will try to fight me and you will lose."

Oh god. She was right. Without the recording, the charade was over. I thought I was trapping her, but somehow, she had trapped me! I had to stop.

But I couldn't. I tried to stop touching myself. I couldn't. I literally could not pull my hand away from its slow, lazy, infuriating circles around my clit. "Holy shit! This is real. I can't stop." The desperate realization of my helplessness only made it that much hotter. "Oh god." Madame laughed at my panicked, lusty words.

"Yes, Felicia. You cannot stop. I am going to make you my slave. Say it."

"You are going to—No. Oh god—going to make me your slave. Oh!" I could taste the orgasm just out of reach. So close. So massive. I knew it would overwhelm me. Knew I would drown in the pleasure, drown in her words. I didn't know what I'd be afterward, who'd I'd be. My left hand obeyed Madame completely, it was already her slave, and soon the rest of me would follow suit.

It was a good thing that I had never missed a shot with my right hand. Even as my left hand was trying desperately to enslave me with pleasure, my right hand had worked its way to the holster at the small of my back. In a practiced move, I drew my Glock and aimed it right between her impossibly gorgeous eyes. "You are under arrest, Madame. You have—oh god—you have the right to remain silent." My left hand slowed down even further, but didn't stop, couldn't stop. I whined with frustrated need.

Madame laughed again. She saw my threat for the act of desperation it was. She had the advantage and she knew it. "You can't arrest me. It will feel too good to fight me and lose. Your only hope is to shoot me. I admit it. I have enslaved and kidnapped dozens of girls. I murdered the last Federal agent who came after me. And if I can't enslave you, I will kill you and feed your body to the gators." She reached into her hair and pulled out a hidden blade, glinting in the sun. "I even have a weapon, so deadly force is justified. You need to defend yourself. You need to cum. Shoot me or submit. Shoot me or be my slave!"

I had fallen back on the chaise. I lay there on my back, legs spread wide, left hand buried deep in my snatch, right hand pointing the gun straight at Madame's beautiful, devilish face. I needed to cum. I needed to protect myself. She had confessed to murder. I had a gun. I was stronger than her. She had a knife.

I pulled the trigger.

And heard the click of the hammer hitting an empty chamber.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

I was powerless before her. Everything I had couldn't affect her. I couldn't fight my Madame. I had fought and I had lost and losing felt so good. I drown in bliss and rubbed myself faster, harder, with every pull of the trigger.

Madame took the useless gun from my fingers. "If you are my slave, say so and cum for me, Felicia."

"YES! I AM YOUR SLAVE! AAAAAAHHH!" I came and let the pleasure drown me. Like a flood, powerful and undeniable, my climax washed over me. It drove out fear and doubt and memory and will. I screamed and writhed in the throes of passion. My old mind, my old self burning to ash in the flame of bliss.

After I came, I lay on the chaise trembling, listening to Madame's voice telling me what came next.