The Bureau of Pleasure Control Ch. 10

Sasha tugged on Zach's hair, cueing him to assist her again, but then pushed him away just as quickly when he tried.

"I can't," she said, with apology in her voice.

"That's okay!" said Zach. "It was an experiment, remember? This is a result."

"I've never not been horny before." Sasha murmured. "Not since I learned what horny was. I've never had too much. I could never afford it. I didn't even know it was possible. I didn't know it was so easy."

Zach gently kissed her knee.

"Now you do," he said.

#

"But we are working on putting a lid back on the situation, right?" Leila asked urgently.

"You could say that," said Kristen, with a sharp exhale. More stress laughter. "I've spent the last six straight hours relocking people and reconstructing their files on the new server, one at a time. Everyone's been working on it, from the newest trainees up to Director Daimler himself. I finally convinced him, well, not him directly, but I convinced Mrs. Daimler that we need all hands on deck right now, including yours."

"They're letting me help clean up my own mess?" Leila tried to guess at the most reasonable, punitive way of letting her out of her cell.

"Shh." Kristen gestured sharply for quiet.

The audacity of this trainee. On a better day, Leila could really have enjoyed it.

"That's how Commander Hawkins and Senior Officer Kitterage have decided to see it," Kristen whispered. "But Director and Mrs. Daimler still don't know how this happened, or that it had anything to do with you."

"Why would security and senior officers cover for me?" asked Leila.

"At first, they were covering for themselves. They thought they could hide the breach completely," Kristen explained. "They've only had a few crazy busy hours to think since this whole thing blew up, and now... they've realized they need your skills."

"To reinstall devices and reconstruct files?" asked Leila.

Kristen shook her head.

"There's more."

#

"That's it, baby," said Calvin, hovering behind the cameraman he had brought in for the occasion.

Artemis didn't know the cameraman. She wasn't even sure whether he was a pro hired for the day, or just someone who happened to own a handheld and owe Calvin a favor.

She didn't know the woman who was in the spa tub beside her either -- the one who was currently running a warm, pulsating waterjet over her pussy -- though she'd heard her introduce herself as Evie.

There hadn't been much time for small talk, as Calvin rushed them all through an abbreviated tour of the massive, still mostly unfinished Privalock facility, and then instructed them on setting up the latest shoot he'd envisioned.

The cameraman had to stand very close, at a carefully calculated angle, to capture only the tub, the two women, and the view of the city behind them, without any tarps or scaffolding getting in the way.

"A little louder," Calvin directed.

"Aren't we going to redub this part anyway?" Artemis asked, irritably.

It was difficult to focus on both the waterjet and his voice at the same time. The waterjet was definitely the more enjoyable of the two stimuli, but both could be annoying when they were competing for her attention.

"We're keeping all options open," said Calvin. "Louder."

"I mean, you keep talking over it anyway, so..."

"Just moan for me," Calvin snapped. "For like thirty seconds. Make out with each other for another thirty like you just can't help yourself, and then turn to the camera and say the line. We'll take some inserts and edit it together from there."

Artemis followed his instructions, hoping that if she did it precisely enough, she wouldn't have to hear his voice again for a precious couple of minutes.

Evie ran the jet in skillful circles, all over the area that Artemis's chastity belt usually covered. On its current setting, the jet was made up of dozens of mini-jets, creating a light, tingling, all-over massage. The pressure was low enough that there was no risk of hurting her, but also no feeling of leverage, nothing firm to really rub against.

Artemis tried to savor the delicious, glittery feeling for its own sake, without expectation, the same way she had trained herself to savor sensations when she was fooling around with her belt still on. Every bit of pleasure she got, she channeled into her moans, while mentally counting off the seconds.

On thirty, she brought her lips to Evie's.

Evie's were soft, and glossed with something that tasted like peaches.

Artemis savored them too, and twisted around on the bench of the tub so that she could reach for Evie's breasts.

Artemis and Evie were both completely naked, no devices or pasties or anything. The tub they were sitting in was only filled to just below their laps, to give the camera the best possible view, but after a couple of rehearsals playing around with the waterjet, they were both wet all the way up to their necks, with the under layers of their damp hair sticking to their necks.

Evie's light blonde curls were even softer this way. Her skin was so smooth, and her nipples were long and responsive, to the point where Artemis had trouble imagining them ever having been successfully contained.

After what was probably more than thirty seconds, Artemis turned her head away from Evie and gave the camera a big smile.

"Still not sure what pleasure management provider is right for you?" she asked. "Reserve your tickets now, and join us at the first annual Oh! Gala. Every name worth knowing in the field of pleasure management will be there, ready to answer your questions and show you what they've got, with live," she gasped, "hands-on," she gasped again, with less control this time, "demonstrations!"

Nervous impulses were firing off under the waterjet, muscles contracting deep in Artemis's pelvis. Even under the ruthlessly gentle ministrations of the waterjet, she was on her way to an orgasm.

Artemis could count on her fingers the number of orgasms she'd had in the decade and a half since her locking ceremony.

And this would be her first one since that day in at the Bureau she'd rather forget, the one when she'd had to strongarm that poor, disaffected Officer Deacon.

A few more seconds, and that wouldn't have to be her clearest memory of release anymore.

"That," Calvin whispered, watching her, unblinking. "That, right there, that's beautiful. And... cut."

He stepped in front of the cameraman, grabbed Artemis by the upper arm, and pulled her forcefully to her feet, pressing the front plate of her chastity belt back into place.

"I told you," he murmured in her ear, a sharp curl of a smile confirming that he knew exactly how little of her acting was acting. "After we're in business."

"We basically are in-"

"After we're in business. Not before."

#

"A pleasure gala?" Leila asked incredulously. "And we're actually legitimizing this thing with our participation?"

"You're not the first person to say those exact words in that exact tone," said Kristen. "But the reality is, no matter how much we scramble, we're not going to be able to put everything back the way it was. Not any time soon. Maybe not ever. The Bureau's best chance at retaining as much power as possible right now is to convince people to keep choosing us as their 'pleasure management provider.' That's what Privalock's started calling the industry."

"We're not supposed to be an industry," Leila pointed out. "We're supposed to be a government agency. We're supposed to be able to enforce the rules for everyone's benefit. How the fuck would we get people to choose to go back into chastity?"

Kristen flicked her lovely brown eyes down toward the plate that Leila was still holding to her pussy.

"It's a little different when you're already locked in a box," Leila pointed out, waving a hand at her cell. "I mean, how would we convince most people, average people, the ones out there in the world where no one's watching..."

"How do we bring in new people when they turn nineteen?" Kristen countered somberly. "Everyone is in a box. It's all one big box. People still can't get jobs or adult education without proof of chastity. They're still going to need to demonstrate their restraint with high point totals to get desirable placements. They'll still need to spend points on things other than sex. Entertainments, sweets, alcohol. None of that has changed. The Bureau just isn't the only entity issuing devices and points anymore. So, now we have to be the best one instead."

The comfortable, familiar knot in Leila's stomach started to wind itself back into place. This wasn't quite anarchy. Not everything was gone.

"We have the advantage of being what people are used to," said Kristen, "but that means we also have the disadvantage of being associated with all their complaints. Privalock hasn't had the chance to upset anyone yet. And until today, the Bureau hasn't had any reason to care about public satisfaction. That's where we have catching up to do."

"But that's the problem!" Leila raised her voice farther than was necessary to make an impression on Kristen, realizing that she was yelling at whoever outside this room had already conducted this conversation without her. "We motivate people by restricting satisfaction. If we have to keep people satisfied to keep them under Bureau control, there is no control."

"Leila." Kristen touched the glass again. It looked like she wanted to run sympathetic fingers through her hair. "What did they do to you in here?"

"What do you mean?" Leila rubbed the vicious cramp in her neck. She couldn't fix that cramp, any more than she could fix any of the gaping holes in the plan Kristen had apparently come here to describe to her.

"You're the one who taught me that there's more to pleasure control than saying 'no,'" said Kristen. "You and Professor Lawrence, of course, but mostly you. You taught me how to tease, how to encourage, how to punish people in ways that make them thank you for real, instead of because they have to. How to look for those perfect moments to bend the rules and guide someone to a discovery they wouldn't have made in a lifetime of playing with themselves. For fuck's sake, one session with you was enough to make me sign up to live here. I shouldn't have been surprised to find out that you're the most popular, most requested officer here."

Warmth started in Leila's chest, followed by the weight of where she knew this must be going.

"And that's the skill of mine the senior officers have decided they still need?" she asked.

Kristen nodded. "You're an expert at the most appealing parts of what we have to offer. They're putting you in charge of creating our whole gala showcase."

Something about the impenetrable glass wall separating Leila from the rest of the world was making her feel dangerously careless. Professor Lawrence probably would have said she was below the motivation zone.

"Not to be crass," said Leila, with every intention of being crass, "but what's in it for me?"

Kristen raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Um, it's a chance to show everyone exactly what you've been saying all along? They want you to help save the Bureau while shaping it into something more compassionate, just like you wanted!"

"They want me to help shape its image into something more compassionate," said Leila. "They want me to help them lie to people about how much the Bureau wants to change, long enough to get them to lock themselves back up. And then what? They throw me back in here, while they get back to cruelty as usual, and wait for the next big pushback, which might actually destroy everything for good?" She rubbed her neck again. "Does anyone out there have any idea how big a mess we've made?"

Kristen let this question hang, and did not presume to answer it.

"They're not just going to put you back here," she said instead.

"Oh. Let me guess," Leila sighed. "If I help on this project, maybe they'll let you visit me from time to time?"

Kristen's beautiful face screwed up with hurt, and then hardened.

"Excuse me, but do you worship the Bureau and want to keep it all-powerful at all costs, or do you hate it and want to watch it burn?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Leila scoffed. "I'm being disrespectful, aren't I? Better tack another few points onto my debt."

"I'm not asking for your point calculation, I'm asking because you're fucking confusing!" snapped Kristen.

"I don't know!" Leila tossed her hands in the air. "Neither. Both, maybe."

"Well, while you figure it out, do you want me to keep defending them, so that you can keep shitting on me for doing the job you recruited me for? The one I've stayed in, every day, because of you? Or would you prefer I spend that time actually explaining the deal you're getting?"

Leila felt herself retreat almost meekly inside herself, the way she could remember doing at the hands of a good officer when she had been only a subject.

"Explain," she answered.

"Okay. So." Kristen took a breath. "They're offering you a path out of debt and back to officer, and here's how it goes. You sign one of the new consent agreements to give the Bureau jurisdiction over your pleasure management, and let me reinstall your device and put it on the new network. You don't ask about switching or try to negotiate the terms. You will submit to fifty points of debt recovery punishment every day without fail, until I graduate and become a full officer. At that time, if you've been good, obedient, and respectful, and you've worked hard to help the Bureau prepare for the gala and given it whatever other support it needs in this challenging time, the Bureau will cancel whatever's left of your debt and allow you to start over with a clean slate as a trainee. My trainee."

Leila hovered somewhere between laughing and crying as she absorbed this.

"That's it," said Kristen. "That's the deal. That's what we get, from the system you love-hate. If you wanted something else... I fucking wish you'd told me sooner."

Even with so little dignity left to her, Leila's pride chafed against submitting to someone she herself had trained. Or, partially trained. And yet, she had to admit, it was a more generous offer than she'd dared hoped for.

If she was honest with herself, she'd been completely ready to settle for those occasional visits from Kristen, while she served out an endless sentence here behind glass.

That was why she'd expected that that to be the offer, and why the thought of it scared her so much: it would have worked.

There had been days in this cell when she would have pulled out all her hair to have someone, anyone, come in and chat with her about the weather for five minutes.

For the chance to be close to Kristen, her soft-hearted, sharp-eyed, responsibly unruly protegee, the person who had dislodged her from a rut of apathy she'd come to believe was permanent... she didn't dare imagine the upper limits on what she would do for that.

Even if their visits would always be on opposite sides of glass with their pussies locked out of reach, she would perform any dance the Bureau asked of her to keep them coming.

"I'll sign," said Leila.

With a heavy smile, Kristen placed a tablet in the cell's food slot and pushed it through to Leila's side.

Leila skimmed the agreement, just enough to know that it was more or less what Kristen had described, and scrawled her name with one finger at the bottom.

A green light flashed on the side of her chastity device, next to the catastrophically negative point counter, indicating that it was in installation mode.

With a deep breath, Leila did what she'd been trying to do for the last several hours. She unreeled the chains, wrapped them around her hips, and touched them to the receptors. This time, they locked into place, and then reeled themselves firmly back to the ideal, tight fit.

She demonstrated that it was secure, without needing to be told, by tugging fruitlessly on the front panel for Kristen to see.

Kristen nodded and pointed at the tablet. "The next page is your punishment menu for the day."

Leila scrolled to it and perused her options.

Choosing fifty points' worth of punishment was harder than she remembered. For a moment, she wondered if the point values had gone down, but then she realized what was different. She wasn't being offered any points to star in a cautionary PSA. The video recording of her session was to be used for supervisory reference only.

Naturally. The Bureau had decided to bury her infraction instead of making an example of it. Having her tell her story would mean telling the world exactly how she had unwittingly forced them into allowing Privalock to exist.

This wasn't going to be easy.

While she debated between implements of pain, she glanced up at Kristen. "The daily punishments... are you going to be the one administering these too?"

"I'm going to be handling everything to do with you," Kristen answered. "It was my suggestion, so they're letting it be my fault if you fail."

Fingers feeling slightly lighter, Leila made her selections, and passed the tablet back.

Kristen looked them over, nodded, and tapped her ID card, her trainee ID card, to the sensor by Leila's high security cell.

By whatever special authority she'd been granted, it opened.

Once there was nothing but air between them, Leila stepped forward, put her arms tentatively around Kristen's shoulders, and then slumped her full weight against her.

"I'm glad you're here," she whispered.

Kristen hugged her. "Me too," she said. "And I'm sorry. I'm really sorry about the interrogation. I didn't know what was going to--"

"That wasn't your fault," Leila stopped her. "You couldn't have stopped it, any more than a needle can choose to stop a piercing."

She kissed Kristen all along the cheek and up to her mouth, extending the moment of human contact for as long as possible before their new roles could take firm root.

Kristen kissed her back, passionately, but not indefinitely. After several seconds, she pulled away.

"Come on. We should get started."

#

Kristen led Leila to their assigned visitor room, ordered her to bend over the steel table, and started the camera.

It was all she could do to keep a cool, professional demeanor. Not to cry and plead for Leila to keep absolving her. Not to hurl more accusations at her for her part in bringing them here. Not to shower her with promises she couldn't keep, about how nothing would ever hurt her again. Not to leap in the air and whoop with joy. Parts of her wanted to do all these things.

There was so much about this moment that Kristen had dreamed of.

She had Leila back in her life.

She was allowed to call her Leila.

She was getting to turn the tables, take the lead, prove that she could even out to be at least Leila's equal in the grand scheme of things.

She was helping Leila get what she wanted, helping her crawl out of a corner instead of forcing her into one, the way she'd been made to do at the interrogation.

There was a savage part of Kristen that had also always wanted to spank Leila's hard little ass just to find out whether it was capable of jiggling, and whether her equally stony face was capable of flinching over something as trivial as physical discomfort, when she wasn't on drugs.

She wanted the intimacy of taking Leila to the same vulnerable place Leila had taken her on the day they met.

Now that she was here, it felt like an enormous responsibility.

Almost enormous enough to crush the part of Kristen that wanted it. But not quite.

#

"Please state the method you chose for the first phase of your punishment today," Kristen directed.