When Sally Donaldson is elected as the youngest governor in history, it isn’t long before she finds herself being blackmailed in the most humiliating way possible. Threatened with the public exposure of graphic evidence of her deepest, darkest desires, Sally is forced to surrender total control of both her executive decisions and her beautiful body to the shadowy Pretorian Guard.
After she is stripped bare, strapped until she is begging, and then thoroughly and shamefully used, Sally begins to realize that the Guard does not plan to merely bend her to their will. Her training is just starting, and by the time they are done she will have been mastered completely.
Author: Emily Tilton
eBook Price: Kindle Unlimited/$4.95
Length: 47,700 words
How could Sally bear it? She couldn’t, could she? She had never received corporal punishment of any kind before. She had called the New Modesty, with its ideas about old-fashioned family discipline, a dangerous regression. Now she had earned a nude whipping from an unseen master.
She tried to move her hands, and she tried to keep her hands still. Beneath them, she felt the awful warmth from the strap and, to her horror and confusion, from some other urge: the fingers of her right hand were covering her pussy, brushing against the curly red hair that her master had said he would take away, and the thought made her gush there. Her face flamed with mortification as that sensation caused some kind of terrible chain reaction, and her other hand clutched at her bottom, reawakening the pain from the strap but also sending an aftershock from the humiliating climax she hadn’t had the power, it seemed, to stop her body from experiencing.
Her hips bucked helplessly, as she looked up at Judy, standing over Sally’s backside with the strap raised as if she might bring it down on Sally’s hands. She gave a little cry of fear, but still she couldn’t seem to move her hands.
Vic’s strong hands held her knees open wide, so that she felt completely helpless to keep herself covered even with her hands there. When she had spread her legs like this and put her finger in her anus while her boyfriend had taken pictures, she had felt like a dirty girl, yes—but not as much as she felt like one now, when a woman in a white coat had told a man in a suit to open her pussy and bottom for a dirty girl’s reward.
Then she let out another yelp, as her unseen master gave her a little shock with the device at her throat. To her mortification, her whole body responded to the little jolt, especially the part of her between her waist and her knees.
“Sir…” she found herself saying, remembering without even thinking about it that Master Eric had told her she must call him that. “Sir, no, please…”
Another shock, just the tiniest bit more intense than the last one, as if he meant her to understand that he would go on raising the level of pain he inflicted until she obeyed. Sally pulled her hands away and clutched the sides of the massage table again. She didn’t know if she had found the will to follow Judy’s command because of the pain at her neck or because of the way each shock seemed to attune her traitorous pussy to the awful collar.
“Good girl,” Judy said, but she spoke the strangely pleasant words even as she brought the stiff pink strap down across the tops of Sally’s thighs, so that some of its slapping force was delivered to her tender pussy lips.
Sally screamed, writhing in Vic’s hands, her bottom squirming lewdly with the agony of the strap’s fiery discipline.
“Let’s keep her still,” she said to Vic, putting her own left hand across the middle of Sally’s thighs. “Don’t let her hurt herself.”
“Oh, God… please, ma’am. Please, sir,” Judy whimpered. “My bottom… it hurts…”
“Of course it hurts, Sally,” Judy said, looking down at her coldly over the shoulder of the white coat. “Your master wants you to understand that panties are a privilege for you, now. If you wear them without permission, your bottom will pay the price.”