The Bureau of Pleasure Control

Kristen nodded, swallowed, and reexamined some of the more direct options.

Flogging, one point per ten strokes.

Paddling (basic), one point per five strokes.

Caning, one point per stroke.

She had never been subjected to any of these things before, but she knew by reputation which were supposed to be toughest, and the point values backed it up.

"Would you..." Kristen asked hesitantly. "Would you be the one administering these?"

"Yes," Officer Deacon answered simply. "Are you under the impression that that will make them easier on you?"

Kristen shook her head. "No."

Cautiously, she tapped her selections on the menu, hoping she knew her pain tolerance and endurance well enough to strike a balance.

Officer Deacon looked over the list again and nodded. "Sensible choices. Remove your clothes and get on your knees, facing the wall behind you."

Kristen complied, focusing on each button of her shirt, the zipper of her jeans, trying not to make these moments of anticipation any worse for herself than she had to. The next part was going to be hard enough.

Officer Deacon opened another wall panel, revealing a monitor with a camera mounted above it. With a tap of her tablet, she activated the setup, so that the monitor showed a live image of Kristen kneeling on the floor, naked except for her chastity device and pleasure-proof pasties.

She lowered her head, hoping it looked like a posture of respect instead of what it was: an attempt to hide her face and her breasts, which were larger and less self-supporting than the officer's, behind her long hair.

"Keep your eyes on the screen," Officer Deacon warned her.

Kristen looked up as text began to scroll across the image of herself.

She realized just in time that it was acting as a teleprompter.

"I was completely out of control today," Kristen read aloud. "I wasted over two hundred points in one sitting, and then sixty more than didn't belong to me, because I'm a weak, undisciplined girl who couldn't help myself."

Kristen's voice quavered slightly as she thought of how proud she'd been of those two hundred hard-earned points just this morning, but she managed to keep up with the scroll of the text.

"Left to govern myself, I would be a useless slave to my urges. I know my restraint will improve with training, but I also know that my inexperience is no excuse for my willful self-indulgence. I knew the rules, and I broke them. I beg the Bureau's charitable attention, to correct my flaws and redeem me."

The text ran out, leaving her shame-filled face unobscured on the screen again.

"Well done," Officer Deacon told her softly. "You got it right in one. Now remove your pasties."

The officer handed Kristen a bottle of hand sanitizer to help dissolve the pasties' adhesive. As they were designed to, they turned from beige to red before releasing, to tell on anyone who tried to remove them without permission.

Officer Deacon dropped a packet of fresh ones on the floor in front of Kristen. "Explain these to the folks at home, while you're putting them on," she ordered.

"Uh, for my first atonement, I will be wearing electric pasties for the next three days," said Kristen, holding up the packet to show the camera, before opening it. "These will deliver a mild electric shock to my nipples twenty times per day, at randomized intervals."

She peeled off the backing and applied them, under Officer Deacon's careful observation, so that the two close-set metal patches on each one lined up perfectly with each of her nipples.

"Explain how you plan to use them to improve your restraint," said Officer Deacon.

"Well, I..." Kristen thought fast. "I think they'll... they'll serve as a valuable reminder to be always vigilant of my behavior. Because, you know, distractions can strike at any- holy shit!"

Kristen yelped involuntarily as the first jolt of current ran between each of the pairs of metal plates.

It hurt, like a sharp, targeted swat, but it also hardened each nipple, instantly and more completely than any amount of rubbing. Secondary jolts ran down her body in response, not electric but similar in sensation, making her clit harden inside its prison again.

Officer Deacon looked like she was drawing on a lot of her impressive personal discipline to refrain from laughing. Her hand hovered over her tablet, and Kristen was pretty sure the timing of that first shock hadn't actually been random.

Officer Deacon waited a few seconds, possibly testing to see if Kristen would comment, or possibly just solidifying her own composure.

"Good enough," she said, finally. "You may proceed. Get up and bend over the table, face to the camera."

Kristen obeyed, laying her naked upper body on the cold steel surface.

The open back of her chastity device, which she usually appreciated, felt terribly exposing now. The chains around her back and upper thighs would provide her with no protection whatsoever from what was coming.

"Do you remember what implement you chose for the next phase of your punishment?" Officer Deacon asked her.

"Yes."

"What was it?"

"The level three paddle."

Officer Deacon retrieved the implement from behind another wall panel and dangled it in view of both Kristen and the camera.

It was a sturdy piece of wood wrapped in black leather, with a long comfort grip. Three large holes had been drilled through the middle of the paddle, no doubt to decrease its wind resistance and increase its maximum velocity.

Every half inch or so along the surface, the leather was secured to the wood with a hard, protruding steel rivet.

"How many strokes did we determine were necessary, again?" Officer Deacon asked.

"Twenty," Kristen rasped through a suddenly dry throat.

Half a point for each one.

She gripped the edge of the table and closed her eyes, bracing herself.

"I'm going to let you take them in sets of ten," said Officer Deacon. "With a short rest in between."

"Thank you for your mercy," Kristen recited, both automatically and sincerely.

"Count them out, starting from one," the officer directed, walking around to stand behind Kristen.

She let Kristen feel the studded leather brush her bare skin once before winding up and swinging.

The slap was deafening. The force drove Kristen's hips and the front panel of her device hard into the near edge of the table, which she only now realized was bolted to the floor. The pain was so overwhelming that she almost forgot to say, "One."

Kristen let go of any faint hope that this step might help reduce her arousal. In fact, that seemed to be the only sensation that the pain didn't drown out.

During "two" and "three," Kristen wasn't sure how she'd survive as far as ten, let alone twenty.

By the time of "five," she discovered that the counting task had become automatic, so she was able to check out and grit her way through by naming flowers in her head, the way she usually did with anything painful.

When it was time to say "ten," she said it a little triumphantly, her pride in her point-earning abilities returning.

Officer Deacon brought her a little plastic cup of water while she caught her breath.

"For the next set, I won't require you to count," said the officer.

"Thank you for your mercy."

"Don't thank me yet," said Officer Deacon. "Instead, for each stroke, you will give me a reason why you got yourself in debt. If you cannot give me a new reason within five seconds, you will receive another stroke with no point value."

Kristen drank the rest of her water, to have something to do with her face other than show her uneasiness.

Ten whole different reasons, without lying?

Officer Deacon set the cup aside and returned to position behind Kristen.

"Do you understand what is expected of you?" she asked.

"Yes, officer," said Kristen.

Slap.

"I... I was weak," Kristen stuttered. She definitely couldn't afford to check out now.

Slap.

"I couldn't restrain my urges well enough."

"The rest of your reasons had better be more different than those two," Officer Deacon warned.

Slap.

"I didn't have enough respect for the Bureau."

Slap.

"I wasn't thinking straight."

"Why weren't you thinking straight?" Officer Deacon prompted.

Slap.

"I was desperate to cum."

Slap.

"The wand felt so good."

"Look at the camera," said Officer Deacon.

Slap.

Kristen lifted her head and forced herself to confess into the dark glass lens. "I thought I could get away with it."

Slap.

"I thought things couldn't get much worse for me."

Slap.

"I..." Kristen tried, but her mind was blank.

Slap.

"I don't know!"

Slap.

"When the obvious runs out," Officer Deacon whispered, "you have to go deeper."

Slap.

"I thought I was special enough that I'd never end up like the videos," Kristen blurted out, "because I'm always so good at anything with grades or scores!"

"What else?"

Slap.

"I knew there was a chance that this would happen, though. I was enjoying your attention, and I wanted more of it."

There was silence after this last admission. Officer Deacon didn't strike again. Nor did she move from her position or acknowledge that this was the tenth reason.

Kristen could only see her from neck to waist on the monitor. Her face was out of frame.

After a long while, Kristen twisted her upper body, almost instinctively, to try to look at the officer.

Another slap to her ass stopped her, a casual one, only at half force if that, but still loud.

"Don't get up," said Officer Deacon. "You're not finished."

I'll say, thought Kristen, pressing her pubic bone hopelessly against the device's front panel.

"Describe your third chosen method of atonement," said Officer Deacon.

"It's a level two anal plug," Kristen told the camera. "Like the pasties, I will be wearing it for three days, with daily maintenance and inspection performed here."

With another opening and closing of a wall compartment, Officer Deacon placed the plug on end on the table, near Kristen's face, so that both she and the camera could get a good look at it while the officer applied a thin layer of lubricant.

It was more intimidating than Kristen had expected from its "level two" name. The bulge between its tip and its neck looked about an inch and a half across, and the black, rubbery surface was textured with a swirling pattern of ridges.

Next to it, Officer Deacon had set down another steel panel with attached chains, slightly different in curvature than the one Kristen kept trying and failing to grind against.

"While it goes in, explain why," Officer Deacon directed, taking the plug and panel and returning to the back of the table.

"I accept this plug," Kristen improvised, as Officer Deacon positioned the tip for insertion, "to... to teach me how generous my usual pleasure control regimen really is."

Officer Deacon pushed firmly on the base of the plug, and Kristen fought the reflex to push against it.

"After a few days of more intense, uncomfortable urges," Kristen paced her breathing carefully, "my everyday lust should be easier to ignore."

With a final, painful stretch, Officer Deacon finished pushing the plug into place. There was a moment of relief as Kristen's anus was allowed to shrink again around the smaller neck of the plug, with only the base sticking out. Still, the intruding object made its presence clearly known.

Kristen had known in theory that plugs made arousal harder to fight, but it was something else to feel the pressure on her internal nerve endings for herself, while being completely helpless to relieve it.

Officer Deacon placed the new steel plate over the base of the plug and attached the chains to the front plate of Kristen's chastity device, running them around her hips and between her legs. The receptors along the edges of the front plate clicked as they accepted the new chains and shortened them to the perfect length, locking the back plate, and the plug, into place until an officer gave the command to release them.

"Say it," said Officer Deacon.

Kristen didn't have to ask for clarification. All the videos ended the same.

"Thank you for your mercy," she said.

With a nod, Officer Deacon picked up her tablet and tapped to shut down the camera and monitor.

"Great," she said with the friendliness she had started with. "So, assuming you remain compliant with your temporary devices, your account is balanced. Go ahead and get dressed, and we'll get you on your way."

Kristen propped herself up on her elbows, trying to prepare herself to walk back into the world.

Another jolt to her nipples, this one probably random, caused her muscles to clench around the plug, leaving every sexual nerve in her body unbearably active and hungry.

Officer Deacon watched her expectantly.

Kristen wanted so much to grab her and kiss her and rub whatever stretches of their skin against each other they possibly could.

She didn't, of course. The officer was still basically a stranger to her who was doing her job, and she had no idea if she'd welcome the contact. No amount of teasing or deprivation could make Kristen ignore that.

It could make her take some pretty wild risks, though.

"I know this is reckless to ask," said Kristen. "And maybe you'll have to punish me for even bringing it up, but is there any way I could earn back enough points to actually use some today?"

Officer Deacon raised an eyebrow at her audacity, and the corner of her full, beautiful mouth twitched with amusement. "How would you imagine doing that?"

"What if I promised to leave the devices in even longer?" Kristen proposed.

"Those are debt-recovery punishments," said Officer Deacon. "They're only offered for those who need help getting up to zero."

Kristen's disappointment mixed heavily with her desperation. "So, there's no way?"

"I didn't say that," said Officer Deacon. "We do have a few tasks for brave volunteers. But they're experimental."

Kristen listened, barely breathing.

With a shrug, Officer Deacon opened another wall compartment, this one full of medical supplies. She pulled on a pair of disposable gloves and retrieved a small, full syringe from a box of them.

"The Bureau is working to expand the very concept of pleasure control," she explained. "This treatment, injected under your tongue, will make everything you put in your mouth taste like unflavored cornflakes for about a week. Or at least, that's the design. You would be part of one of the first waves of human testing, so who knows what might happen?

Kristen eyed the syringe apprehensively, while her entire pelvis begged her to hurry.

"How many points would I get?" she asked.

"Twenty per week," Officer Deacon replied. "First installment up front."

"Twenty," Kristen repeated, remembering how her attempt at spending thirty had gone.

"It would also mean that I'd become your case supervisor," Officer Deacon added casually. "It would be my job to work with you each time you come in. Projects like these require consistency and follow through."

Unable to force a more rational evaluation of the options, Kristen opened her mouth and lifted her tongue.

Slowly, giving Kristen every opportunity to change her mind, Officer Deacon uncapped the syringe, purged the air bubble, and administered the shot.

It stung sharply for a moment, and then a cool, tingling sensation spread throughout Kristen's mouth. She could still feel where everything was, not like the dental shots that always made her bite her tongue or cheek and realize it hours later, but something had definitely changed.

"Is that it?" Kristen asked, still able to enunciate perfectly well. "The points are mine to spend?"

"Right after the first test," said Officer Deacon.

She leaned down, bringing her face level with Kristen's, where she was still leaning against the steel table.

For a split second, Kristen thought the officer might let her taste her mouth, and her dark lip gloss, just to show her how she couldn't taste it, not really.

"Open," said Officer Deacon.

Kristen did, and the officer popped a hard candy from the medical compartment into her mouth.

"What flavor is it?" Officer Deacon asked, and readied her tablet to write down the result.

"Lime," Kristen answered.

"You can taste it?" Officer Deacon asked.

"No," Kristen answered, moving it around her mouth with some consideration. "Only smell it."

"Is it a pleasurable experience?"

"Not really," said Kristen. "It's like the taste is just out of reach. It makes me crave it more. It's like... it's like chastity, actually. For my mouth."

Officer Deacon took her notes.

"Great. Now, did you want to apply the full twenty points to basic clitoral stimulation?"

"Yes," said Kristen, swallowing the candy whole. "Please."

"Return to your seat, then."

Kristen did so, her legs slightly wobbly from adjustment and anticipation.

Officer Deacon entered the command on her tablet and tapped her keycard to Kristen's device.

The wand raised itself back into reach.

Kristen rubbed her clit eagerly and immediately against it.

Tick.

Officer Deacon sat down across from her, observing closely without interfering.

With each backstroke Kristen took, the plug inside her pressed forward, recharging her nerves. There was no pause between types of stimulation.

Tick, tick, tick.

Before she even made it to five, Kristen came with a startled cry. Instead of a gradual lead-in followed by rhythmic waves of pleasure, all the waves seemed to crash through her nearly simultaneously, leaving her lightheaded and gasping against the edge of the table.

"You understand there's no refund for early completion either," said Officer Deacon.

Kristen moaned incoherently, and then remembered to say, "Yes, officer," in case this counted as a question.

"I'll see you tomorrow," said Officer Deacon, handing her the bundle of her clothes. "And the next day, and the next. I'll ask you then if it was worth it."

***

Thanks for reading! If you had a good time, don't forget to favorite, comment, and/or show me some love in the ratings. Most importantly, let me know if you want to read more about the Bureau of Pleasure Control. Your responses help let me know where to focus my attention.