The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Location: Corporate Headquarters Planet Undina II, Zabba Corporation Headqarters Stardate: 1552

“You missed a spot Bitchy.”

The first of the three suns of Undina II had risen, the soft morning light flickering in to fill Cornelius Fisk’s cavernous bedroom. It was never allowed to be anything but soft... the filters installed in the windows insured that. All across Undina II the worker ants of Zabba were rousing themselves from their slumbers and preparing for the day ahead. Tired eyes were rubbed, showers were taken, Pinkie the Fairy branded cereal was poured into breakfast bowls for the children, ProtoMax complete nutrition shakes were prepared for the adults, clothes were put on, OrangJus (“Tastes just like orange juice!”) was sipped, coffee from one of Zabba’s many brands was brewed, hover-cars were started. The machinery that kept Zabba at the peak was slowly starting to spin into gear, the cogs turning. It would be another good day. It always was. Zabba didn’t allow it not to be.

Cornelius’ own morning was somewhat similar to that the vast majority experienced but in a few rather key areas suffice to say it was rather different. One only need to look at his current situation to note quite how different. Like most people he spent at least part of his morning in the bathroom, even if their bathrooms weren’t big enough to play Zero-G Ball in, featured four basins, three showers and two baths. He’d even had a shower running. But there the differences sort of ended.

“That’s it Bitchy, use your tongue.”

Cornelius was currently stood naked in the centre of his bathroom, his body glistening. On her knees before him, her hands handcuffed together behind her back and her chastity belt in place but otherwise naked, was Arianna Luskarelli, her head head between his legs, her tongue dutifully lapping at his ballsack. Well, he thought it was dutifully... he doubted Arianna thought of it the same way. The reason his body glistened was because Arianna had spent the last few minutes licking it clean, her wet tongue sliding over every inch of his body. She had suckled on his toes and slobbered over his fingers, caressed his chest and suckled his ear. Ever since Arianna had come into his possession and been sufficiently trained Cornelius “showered” in this way. Why waste valuable electricity and water using a real shower when you could have your own personal slut do it for you? He was even generous about it; he took the money he saved through not running the shower and deducted it from Bitchy’s debt. Would it make a difference? Well, let’s put it this way; scientists had calculated with reasonable accuracy when the universe would end... long enough into the future that no-one particularly cared about it. Bitchy would still be paying off her debt then... and that’s without accounting for interest. But he was still being generous. And regardless it was now all part of their routine.

The routine stayed the same, even as the days changed. Cornelius always woke early, a remnant of his military days and, as sleep fell from him, he always took a few minutes to focus his mind. In truth, “focusing his mind” normally involved him reliving his previous night with Arianna. She had been a good little slut for him. He’d been asked what his favourite part of her body was a couple of times and he never told the truth. There was the crude side of course; her hot lips... both sets of them... or her delectable little asshole. There was the more... shall we say artistic... side; her long legs, her perky nipples (when he removed the clamps and vibrators from them of course), her toned stomach, her sexy face or... and he’d been right all those years ago... her really nice ass. But the answer he never told anyone was it was her eyes he liked most of all. Not the physical eyes themselves... although they were pretty enough if you like such things. No, it was what was behind those eyes, what they represented, what they showed.

He recalled last night when he bred Arianna. Not the physical sensations... they were pleasant enough but they were something he could experience at will. He recalled what he could see. What he could see in her eyes. That delicious mix of hatred and need, of resistance and pleading, of defiance and desperation. As he stood above her, ready to penetrate her and he looked down on her quivering body, her weeping pussy and her beautiful eyes. How she hated it, hated him. Needed it, needed him. Some people were foolish enough to think that she was broken. That she really was “Bitchy”. That her entire being was the silly, desperate, needy, pathetic fuckpet that crawled around in Cornelius’ wake, squealed when you paddled her ass and slurped on a cock like a lollypop. Cornelius knew better. Arianna Luskarelli was still there, buried inside. He could manipulate her body, punish and reward it, fuck and spank it, pump it full of aphrodisiacs and deny it release until it screamed for it. He could train her mind, shape and rewarp it. But he could never completely remove Arianna. She would always be there, underneath. Cornelius wouldn’t have it any other way. It would be no fun if she simply looked like Arianna... she would be little more than a lookalike, a specially designed fleshbot. It was the fact that Arianna was still there, kicking and screaming below the surface, that made the kicking and screaming on the surface quite so pleasurable. And if nothing else Arianna had been a Wolf. And Cornelius refused to admit a Wolf could be broken this way. Not completely. He had more pride then that. And despite the fact he’d never tell her, more faith in Aranna then that. She had been a special one. She would not disappear. She would not break. Not completely. Not utterly.

He recalled the wonderful moment a few nights previously when she had begged him for her orgasm. Not the wordless mewling she had last night. Actually asked him with real words. It had happened before of course, but each time was special. He had denied her then. There was a hint in her eyes that she thought she had some control. That she thought by begging him in that way he would allow her to cum. That she could manipulate him. It was only a hint, but it was enough. She wasn’t in control and she couldn’t manipulate him. How delightful it had been to see they small glimmer crushed. To watch hope give way to despair as she realised there would no release, no escape, no sudden burst of orgasmic pleasure. Just another 24 hours of teasing, of denial and of soft, wet torture. And then he would decide again.

He remembered her eyes as his cock slapped down onto her dripping pussy. He remembered how her back arched, how her toes curled, how her mouth formed an “O” around her gag. He could have probably made her beg again, made her verbalise the words. Considering how desperate she was, how the aphrodisiac and the vibrators and the day of tease and denial had built her up, it would have likely only taken a minute or two. Maybe just him slapping her wet cunt with his cock a few more times. But familiarity breeds contempt. If she begged him everyday it would no longer be special. So he spared her that torment. He had let her body speak for her, let her whimpers and nods tell the tale. Tell the tale of a poor, helpless Bounty Hunter slut, little more than three holes and quivering need.

Becs... Rebecca Bolton to her friends, Miss Bolton to her underlings and Mistress Bolton to Bitchy and her indentured servants... had given Bitchy a good working over earlier in the evening. Cornelius liked Rebecca. She was beautiful in that sort of haughty, ice queen way which made making her melt even more pleasurable. More then that she was charming, intelligent, occasionally funny and could cook a wonderful coq au vin. Just the right amount of ambition as well. Fisk had no doubt that one of the reasons she was sleeping with him was because of what he was rather than who he was but it was only one of the reasons. She was ruthless but she understood loyalty. Cornelius appreciated that. Loyalty was what mattered. Pride and loyalty. She also happened to be endlessly inventive, especially when it came to debasing poor Bitchy.

One scene in particular had stuck out. Bitchy on her hands and knees, her tongue buried deep in the cunt of Becs’ indentured servant... he thought her name had been “Sara” but he could barely remember... Bec’s went through them so quickly that she just called them all “Sloppy Cunt” to save time. Anyway, Bitchy was using her well trained tongue to bring Sloppy Cunt to orgasm after orgasm. While Cornelius liked to keep Bitchy in near constant chastity, Becs went the direct opposite way; her indentured servants rarely had a moment when they weren’t being forced to orgasm for one reason or another. It was the contrast that made it; Bitchy, desperate to cum, desperate for someone to lick her pussy, lapping away at Sloppy Cunt, who was desperate to stop orgasming, desperate for her sore pussy to be left alone, and making her cum over and over and over again. That alone was an erotic sight; Sloppy Cunt’s eyes filled with despair, virtually mindless as the constant orgasms broke her personality, Bitchy’s full of need and want.

And then just to top it off, Bec’s had tried out the new prototype Slut-Fucker 6000 to sodomise Bitchy’s tight but oh-so-welcoming ass. It was fun enough just watching that... but then watching the brief look of... Cornelius didn’t think it was either pain or pleasure but instead a wonderful combination of the two... in Bitchy’s eyes as it spun up to speed. Drenched in another slave’s orgasm, her own pussy leaking through her belt and her ass being absolutely plundered, her eyes driven sightless as the sensations over whelmed her. That had been good. That had been worthwhile. Then, as was their way, Cornelius and Becs had fucked, Cornelius wringing orgasm after orgasm from her writhing form as their indentured servants were forced to watch. Bitchy hadn’t been left completely alone during this. She and Sloppy Cunt were scissored together, chastity device to pussy, forced to bump and grind and slide. Each contact had made Sloppy Cunt howl and quiver as another painful orgasm rocked her while Bitchy would feel the pleasure, even through the device, yet have no release.

Yes, an enjoyable way to spend the evening.

And then of course there was the Goodnight Kiss. Bitchy’s ass got a lot of use. Her pussy may have been his but Bitchy herself was essentially community property. Technically Cornelius could have denied others the use of her but, assuming they showed him the right amount of respect, he was proud to show off his Bitchy and how well he had trained her. Bitchy was just a piece of meat to use and abuse and yes, to fuck. And sometimes a blowjob just wasn’t enough. Cornelius knew some owners of indentured servants didn’t like to train their slaves or their assholes. They just liked to fuck them, to painfully penetrate them. To enjoy the fact so many found it distasteful and demeaning. Cornelius could at least somewhat understand their point. What did it matter how the bitch felt? Her ass still gripped your cock just as hard. Cornelius understood... he just disagreed. If anal sex was distasteful and demeaning wasn’t it better if the whore was forced to enjoy it? Forced to love it? Force to crave it? Forced to milk his cock with her ass? Forced to enjoy every distasteful, demeaning second?

So he trained Bitchy and he trained her ass. He teased it, fingered it, dildoed it,fucked it and fisted it. He doped her up on aphrodisiacs, tormented her with vibrators, teased her with pleasure. It was in essence primitive mind control, combing what pleasure could be found in anal sex with those external pleasures until she associated her rosebud being penetrated with pleasure and erotic joy. Then came the deeper training, teaching her like one would a dog, teaching her to grip, teaching her to milk, teaching her to enjoy the feeling of being stretched, teaching her to open her ass so he could go balls deep in her, each mistake, error, failure or hint of resistance rewarded with a spanking. He had made her into an anal whore, into Bitchy the dirty slut who cooed and moaned as he gave her a goodnight kiss and who’s trapped pussy quivered with ruined minigasms as he sodomised her with powerful strokes.

And so Cornelius Fisk had lain in bed and focused his mind. He had relived what had come before. And then he had risen to his feet, the sheets falling from his body. Ready to face the day ahead.

The start of his morning was almost disappointingly mundane. 20 minutes in the high-gravity chamber. The military joked that those on “civy street” went soft. Went weak. Cornelius may not have been what he was but he was damned if he’d be soft. Damned if he’s be weak. If he was not quite steel then he was at least still iron. The small chamber had a gravity 30 times the Earth’s normal. To even stand in it required both physical strength and sheer brutal willpower. But Cornelis didn’t simply stand there. He stretched. He flowed between hand-to-hand combat forms. He used his bodyweight as he pressed and squatted and thrusted. He felt the ache of his muscles as they whined about the effort needed and then he felt that whine turn to exultation as they came to life, as they sprung into gear. There was an euphoria in exercise, a moment when despite the fire in your lungs, the tremble of your legs and the spinning of your head you felt complete. Alive. Energised. Cornelius lived for such moments.

His workout done it, Cornelius had prepared breakfast in the kitchen. Breakfast for him was a slightly better class of ProtoMax shake, one which delivered all the nutrients and vitamins he could need for the day ahead. Bitchy’s breakfast was somewhat similar. It was a shake and it gave her the nutrients she needed but it was not a sweet and tasty ProtoMax. Instead it was IndenturedServantGloop with a taste as disgusting as the name. Cornelius had tried it once. It was not an experience he enjoyed or looked back on with any pleasure. Cold, slimy and bitter it had rankled his tongue and curdled deep in his stomach. That said, he didn’t give it to Bitchy straight. No, she got some delicious toppings. Deep in the insta-freeze he kept a vat of... well, it was cum. There was no other way to describe it. A big vat of cold cum. Some of it his, much of it from others and it was all mixed with Bitchy’s own juices. A thick ladle of the vile substance was scooped up and poured on top of her shake. While he Cornelius drank his breakfast from a glass, Bitchy’s was in a bright pink baby’s bottle, plastered with fairies and flowers. She did look adorable as she sucked from it, even as her mouth curled in distaste.

His breakfast done and hers prepared he woke his little slut. This wasn’t a difficult task. Often the poor girl was awake already, the vibrators that still tormented her ass and nipples having driven her from sleep. Even if she was asleep one could almost always hear soft moans and groans from around her thumb as the humming sex toys tormented her. Whatever sleep Bitchy did get would almost certainly be... shall we say... troubled. The process of waking Bitchy was one Cornelius particularly enjoyed. With but a thought he made the chastity belt flow to form an exact replica of his penis deep inside her. Then, slowly at first, it would start to slide back and forth, fucking her. The pace would soon increase until Cornelius was sure Bitchy was awake. Awake and squealing. The last thing he did every night was fuck her to sleep. The first thing he did each morning was fuck her awake. There was a symmetry about it he liked.

Once he was sure she was awake it was breakfast time. The synthsteel cage withdrew from around her and Cornelius lifted her out and placed her back in the latex “shower”. With a button press her “nightie” was removed before Cornelius once more took her naked body out. The vibrating clamps were removed from her tender nipples before Cornelius gently stretched her out. She’d be trapped within the latex and synthsteel for hours, barely able to move and he didn’t want his slut cramping up the first time he forced her into a strange position. That wouldn’t do. It would embarrass him. And Cornelius would not be embarrassed. His strong hands worked over her body, massaging, stretching, pushing and pulling. That done he got her feeding mask, a nozzle, some tubing, a hand pump and her breakfast shake.

The feeding mask resembled a metal muzzle... pink of course... which covered her entire lower face, thick straps set around the back of her head, two more pulled tight that run up her face either side of the nose. The only slight oddity was a small hole in the mouth piece and what appeared to be a holding/locking mechanism in front of it for placing something in. He would put the mask on Bitchy, bind her hands behind her back with handcuffs and then with a series of curt instructions... like one would use for a child or a dog... instruct her to stand, spread her legs and bend over. The shake in one hand he would kneel behind her and use his free palm to play and tease with the vibrating plug still wedged in her nice ass. Eventually, his fun satisfied for the moment, he would turn it off and remove it, immediately placing the topless shake under her, followed by a command of “dribble”. The instruction was simple; he wanted Bitchy to “squeeze” her ass and let his spunk from her goodnight kiss which had sat in her guts as she slept dribble out, still slightly warm from her body heat, and top off her shake.

That done he would place the lid on the shake and in turn place it in the locking mechanism, angled at about 60 degrees. The amount that flowed out was controlled by a dial on the side. If Bitchy had been naughty Cornelius had a tendency to set it wide open, the vile mixture flowing into her mouth at an astonishing rate, choking her. Usually however... as he had this morning... he set it to a gradual release. It would start slowly but as time went by gradually increase the flow. Thus Arianna had a choice; actively suck down the vile substance and avoid any being left by the time it opened up completely or let it dribble out and experience the choking flow that came at the end.

Cornelius didn’t bother to watch and see what she chose. Instead he took up the nozzle and slowly pressed it into Bitchy’s now empty ass. No-one wanted to use a soiled slut and so Cornelius made sure she was clean... inside and out. He’d make sure the nozzle was pressed in deep, twist it round a few times to make sure it was place and then attached the tubing. The other end of the tubing was attached to a dispenser in the ground. The ZabbaDispense was an item more usually associated with the hospitality industry where it could be used to dispense a selection of beverages. Cornelius’ use for it was more nefarious.

The contents of the enema Bitchy got each morning depended on Cornelius’ mood and how Bitchy had behaved. If he was feeling kind it would perhaps be warm soapy water. Perhaps some warm milk. Maybe even coffee. If he was feeling cruel? Ice cold water. Hot coffee... hot enough to feel like agony but not cause any actual harm. Maybe even some of the vat of cum...although that rather defeated the object of the enema in the first place. What didn’t change was the amount. It was always vast, enough that one could actually see a slight bulge appear on Bitchy’s belly. Cornelius didn’t need to use the pump; the dispenser would fill her just as well... but he liked the control it gave him and the way he could physically force more into Bitchy. Today he was feeling generous and Bitchy had felt her guts filled with warm water before removing the now empty bottle and muzzle, patting her on the head affectionately

There was a little pantomime that played out once Bitchy was pumped full. Cornelius would remove the nozzle, replace it with the butt plug and then simply leave Bitchy alone. If he had a day of leisure he would often leave it at that; Bitchy’s face and pleas for release after she’d been forced to carry the enema within her for hours were delightful. But today was not a day of leisure and so instead he spent a few minutes reading the Holonet, checking his emails and generally catching up with the world. He ran an internal bet with himself about how many stories he can read before Bitchy’s whining and writhing from the discomfort the enema caused forced him to pay attention to her. The routine was familiar. He would arch an eyebrow up and patronisingly ask what Bitchy wanted. She’d squawk something out. He’d finish reading a news story and then ask “does Bitchy need her potty?”

Let us be clear, he was not letting her go to the toilet and void. He was making her use a potty. A bright pink plastic potty plastered with childish clip art, fairies, ponies and floral patterns, the sort of thing a female toddler may be potty trained on. Arianna Luskarelli, the most powerful woman in the universe, forced to void into a child’s potty. When he was feeling particularly cruel he’d play a little game with her. Electro-whip in hand he would stand before her and tell her she had a choice. She could use the toilet or she could use the potty. But with every step towards the toilet he would lash her with the whip. It crackled in the air, the strand wrapping around her, shocking and stunning the areas it hit. Arianna was tough but there was no way she would ever reach the toilet... the whip would render her unable to move before that. She still had a choice, just not the choice she thought. The choice to make it to the potty or to humiliate herself even more by losing control all over the floor... and then having to clean it up herself. Today he was not feeling cruel. Today... after a sufficient amount of mewling and begging of course... he had brought out the potty, removed the plug and allowed Bitchy to empty herself in it. A soft tissue was used to wipe her bottom clean and he gently inserted two fingers into her, shifting them around before declaring proudly that she was “a very clean little Bitchy.”.

Content her insides were sufficiently cleansed, Cornelius then cleansed her outsides. The bathroom had three showers, two gigantic monoliths of marble and stainless synthsteeth, shower heads the size of an average dining table. They were works of art, beauty and practicality. The third shower, the one for Arianna... well it wasn’t. It was pink. And far smaller... big enough to stand in but little more. And it was oce again covered in fairies. And ponies. And flowers. It looked cheap, tacky, plastic and childish. It worked; of course it worked but it was hardly a pleasant place to be... at least if someone was more than six. Arianna, her hands still bound behind her back, was led in, the water was turned on (always warm; this was about cleaning, not punishment) and Cornelius went about cleaning his slut. It must be said, unlike much of the rest of his treatment of her Cornelius was very tender and almost kind as he washed Bitchy. His hands were gentle and soft, his strokes slow and supple. There was no “scrubbing”, no brushes with thick bristles, no punishment or deliberate pain in the way some masters “tended” to their servants. If they even did it at all. Most left it to a harem master of some sort, often another servant. And they could be truly cruel. He on the other hand, he tended and cared for Bitchy, gently wiping away the grime, cleaning her dried juices from her legs. He wasn’t deliberately teasing or tormenting her... although considering how tender her nipples were she probably didn’t appreciate his touch... instead he was simply cleaning her as one would a small child. Her body clean he gathered her toothbrush... another pink device fit for a child... and cleaned her teeth. He wanted her mouth fresh and free of the revolting shake she had drunk. Although buried beneath the minty freshness was the taste his his cum and Bitchy’s own juices. Not many indentured servants got to have their own specially designed toothpaste; Cornelius had made Bitchy thank him for being so kind by saying how she had nothing to offer but her holes and would “Daddy” please fuck her ass as hard and deep as he wanted. And then it was Cornelius’ time to shower.

Which brought us to where we were...

“Very nice Bitchy. You got me nice and clean. No naughty points today. Now, Daddy wants his morning kiss.”

Just as the goodnight kiss was him fucking her ass, the morning kiss was him fucking her mouth. Or in truth, he didn’t really fuck it. He forced Bitchy to participate in her own humiliation, to give him and enthusiastic, sloppy blowjob. He’d trained her mouth just as he trained her ass. Arianna may not take pride in or appreciate being the best cocksucker in the known galaxy but Cornelius Fisk was damned if Bitchy was going to be anything but that. She would not embarrass him by using her teeth (after one too many scrapes earlier in her training he’d had a specially designed mould fitted to her, hiding her teeth entirely and giving her mouth the feel of a pussy), by struggling to deepthroat someone or by choking and spluttering when someone came down her gullet. Bitchy may have only been a fuckpet but Cornelius demanded the best... the best from himself, the best from his men and yes, the best from his fuckpets. Nothing else would do.

And so he let Bitchy and her talented tongue work on his cock, cleaning and pleasuring it at the same time. He knew she could taste herself, taste her juices, taste her pussy and taste her ass. He knew she didn’t enjoy this. But he also knew he loved it. He knew he loved the thought of Arianna sucking his cock and he loved the way Bitchy sucked it. He loved the way she could tighten her throat around him or the way she could open it up so he could deepthroat her. He loved the way her tongue swirled around him, her loved the way her head bobbed back and forth. And he loved the way her eyes remained fixed on him throughout the entire process, looking up at him as he smiled down at her. He loved the slight hint of resentment that still remained. And then he came down her throat, patted her on the head and continued on with his morning.

Next came dressing. Bitchy had her own huge walk-in wardrobe filled with dozens of outfits, the seeming dream of six year old princesses the galaxy over, a big table in the centre and chests stuffed with... let’s call it “jewellery” for the moment. The majority were girly and pink, frilly dresses and skirts, stockings and tights. There were even a selection of plastic tiaras, most personalised to commemorate an event of Cornelius’ choosing; “Best Blowjob”, “Biggest Cummies” and the like . There were some exceptions to the all pink and girly rule; sometimes Bitchy had to appear in polite society and so there were a few more sophisticated options here and there although these tended to be towards the “slutty” rather than “classy” end of the spectrum. There was even a fetishised version of her own costume for when either Cornelius or another wanted to roleplay with her. That was popular. More than one person wanted to take down the famed “Arianna Luskarelli” and then rape her ass silly as she moaned and begged. Some of the clothes were Bitchy’s own choice, which is why brief flashes of colour broke up the sea of pink. Not total freedom of course... items which Cornelius agreed to... and the price was added to her debt. Cornelius didn’t think a neon green vest so tight her breasts spilt out the sides with “Filthy Cumrag” printed on it would have been Arianna’s first choice but he supposed Bitchy found it preferable to the same item in pink with “Ask Daddy and you can fuck my Ass!” scrawled on.

The actual process of dressing was routine as well. Cornelius unbound her arms and left her in her walk in wardrobe, closing the door while he went and put on his own clothes; almost always a business suit. During that time Bitchy had to pick out her outfit for the day and lay it on a table, including her “jewellery”. If Cornelius approved she could wear it. If he didn’t he would choose items for her. If she picked items he really disagreed with there would be naughty points for her. Naughty points meant she was a naughty girl, naughty girls got punished and too many naughty points meant any from a range of punishments. Spankings, whippings, paddlings, more enemas, forced dildo fuckings, public humiliation, stricter bondage, torture or simply no orgasms. Of course if Cornelius want to do those things to her he could... and did... anyway but naughty points were still a useful tool. Bitchy’s outfit picked out Cornelius returned to the room and cast a critical eye over it. A hand played with one item.

“I like this Bitchy. Good choice”

He angrily tossed aside another. Bitchy would of course have to pay for the cleaning and ironing.

“Not this Bitchy. You wore it two days ago.”

Another item tossed crumpled to the ground.

“And not this. The colours would clash. What were you thinking Bitchy? I thought I taught you better then that.”

“And this is far too small Bitchy. You’re not a little girl any more even if you act like one.”

His review over, Cornelius quickly picked out his own additions. Bitchy had chosen fairly well today, even if he had rejected many of her options. A closed fist held up indicated she had received no naughty points. His choices made he went about preparing Bitchy. The first step was her make-up: a glossy pink lipstick and heavy pink eye shadow. Then came her stockings, pink with a white lace top, finished with a personalised script. “To Bitchy, From Daddy” on the left, “Ask and you will Receive” on the right. He’d bought them for her on her birthday last year. She’d had to thank him by sucking his cock while he tried to find out how many dilidos he could work into her ass in one go. Compared to the paddles,plugs and clamps he also had bought her she probably preferred the stockings. Her feet were squeezed into candy pink 7 inch heels. Cornelius couldn’t recall Arianna ever wearing heels during her life on the outside but Bitchy had got used to them here. Even so the extreme height meant she could never walk with complete freedom or balance and he did love the mincing little steps it forced her to take. The came her skirt. Well, skirt may be an overstatement. It was more of a belt. The sort of fluffy belt/skirt a ballerina may wear when doing Swan Lake... pink of course... that sat on her hips and covered absolutely nothing. Then the cupless corset...

Cornelius liked Bitchy wearing corsets. They emphasised her most important parts... making her tits and ass stick out like she was some desperate, needy slut. Which in truth she was. This one was again pink with white mother-of-pearl buttons and two strong white laces at the back. Hidden inside was yet more synthsteel, making sure it stayed rigid in its hourglass shape. He liked it tight... not only for the way it made her bust and bottom stick out even further but for the way it made each breath an effort. Bitchy couldn’t forget she was wearing it, could not forget she was forced to wear it, could not forget he had made her wear it. It would never be natural, never be comfortable. She would never forget it. Never forget her place. And so, as she stood gripping the table, Cornelius Fisk was behind her, pulling the corset tighter and tighter.

“Jesus Bitchy, how much cum have you drunk? You’re getting fat! And who wants a dirty fat slut? A fat, sloppy, slutty sow who’s not good for anything but breeding? Jesus, you may as well be a cow, just mooing away. You need to do more exercise or at least not swallowing so much cum like a dirty cocksucking whore!”

Of course she wasn’t fat... Cornelius was just pulling the corset extra tight. Not that she needed to know that...

“Finally. Now turn round so I can have a look at you...”

He spun her on the spot, running and admiring eye over her form, crushed into an hour glass shape by the corset. His hand reached to one of the chests, pulling out her first item of “jewellery”. To nipple clamps of the twin bar an screw variety. He attached one, pinching her nipple before placing the clamp around it. Screwing it down. He’d turn the screw and wait a moment, giving Bitchy hope that perhaps he wouldn’t screw it tight. Then he’d turn it again. Wait. Turn it again. Watching her eyes each time. Turn it again. Keeping turning it until the nipple was lewdly sticking out, engorged and seemingly begging for attention. Then he repeated the process on the other. Give each trapped nipple a flick. Smile. Flick them again. Smile again.

“Turn round and bend over the table Bitchy. Spread your cheeks.”

As she turned and presented her backside to him he knelt down behind her, pulling out her next item of “jewellery”, a pink butt plug. It was not particularly large; this was simply her morning plug. Over the course of the day far larger and more intimidating objects would make her ass their home. This was simply to open her up. He sucked one of his fingers before using it to lube her up, sliding it inside.

“Your ass is looking particularly hungry today Bitchy. You really do have a greedy ass. It always wants something in it.”

His finger was withdrawn, quickly replaced with the plug, twisted twice to make sure it stayed in place. Next he did her hair, gathering it into two pig tails as she remained bent over the table, holding them in place with two pink scrunchies. He didn’t particularly like her hair in pigtails... he preferred it hanging down, but there was doubting the demeaning effect of it or the way it gave an easy handhold when he either rode her ass or fucked her mouth. Bringing her to her feet he attached the last two parts of her ensemble. First a full arm pink monoglove, forcing her arms behind her back. It had a fishnet pattern but the material was specially designed (at Bitchy’s cost of course) and strong beyond even her considerable levels of power. Her arms forced back he attached the bottom of the glove to first the bottom of the corset and then to the plug nestled in her ass. Her arms were basically flat against her back, held in place by the corset, but if she did struggle it would move the plug inside her. And if she ever dared... or even accidentally managed... to pull the plug free? There weren’t enough naughty points in the world to sum that up. The final touch was a muzzle-mask, similar to the one she used for feeding, her pig tails coming out the sides. Instead of a locking mechanism this one had a plug at the front, of the sort one would find in a cheap basin. A bar extended from the plug into Bitchy’s mouth, allowing her to speak but distorting her words... after-all, as Cornelius repeatedly said, no-one kept Bitchy around for her conversational skills. If one wanted use of her mouth one could simply withdraw the plug, leaving it dangling from the silver chain, use her mouth and then plug her back up again.

“You look very nice Bitchy. Like a naughty little princess. Time for your medicine.”

The “medicine” in question was her daily aphrodisiac. Specially designed and attuned to her body it was not the strongest available. Cornelius had seen the effect of those. Frigid puritans given a single dose and immediately becoming cock-crazed harlots, desperate to cum, willing to do anything to cum. Enjoyable but not what he wanted. He didn’t want Bitchy mindless. Her dose was slow-acting, slow releasing. She would feel it immediately but it would not be an all-encompassing need. It would be a desire, a want, a small flame that would slowly be stoked as the day went by. By the end of the day her need would be desperate... but not till then. Till then it was just a want, a hope, a prayer. Likewise he didn’t need to administer it every day; it could easily have been designed to last for a week... a month... a year. But he liked the ritual. Liked injecting her. Liked making her wonder where he would inject her.

Today Bitchy was placed virtually upside down, her legs behind her head, her breasts pushed together and thrusting out, her plugged ass and pussy on display, Cornelius having made the chastity device to open. Bitchy could see herself, see all of herself... and if she couldn’t then the holoscreens above her head once again gave her a perfect view. Cornelius stood above her, needle in hand.

“And where would Bitchy like her medicine today?”

He’d injecting her virtually everywhere in his time. Technically it made little difference in the great scheme of things. Her ears, her toes, her tongue, her butt, her fingers, her armpits, her nose. He traced the needle around her body, the sharp tip pressed against the soles of her feet, her sore nipples, against the side of her asshole. And settled on her pussy. Not just her pussy. Her clit. One swift move, one swift press of the plunger and Bitchy was ready for the day ahead. He took a moment to watch Bitchy, watch her cunt start to moisten up, watching it weep more of her juices before with a thought he closed the device, hiding her most intimate place from view until breeding time.

Preperations done it was time to get to work. Cornelius’ job as the head of the Special Operations Department meant that for every hour he spent in the field he seemed to spend two months behind a desk. Bitchy herself had a job at his office and in the interest of convenience he took her to work with him. As funny as the idea of forcing her to make her own way to the office was he didn’t want her stuck on some street corner being gangraped by the early morning commuters. Unless he got to watch. So she got to come in the hovercar with him.

If Bitchy had been naughty he’d developed a rather special way of taking her to work. At first he’d simply crushed her body into a large travelcase and taken her with him but that seemed a bit banal. Instead he’d developed his own system, the “BitchySpit 2000”. Prototypes for wider distribution were already going out... soon Bitchy would have to front the advertising campaign. The spit took up most of the boot of his car, two dilidoes on extending poles, one at each side. Bitchy would be placed in the middle, her two plugs removed and replaced with the dildos. Her body was contorted in such a way that she was off the floor of the boot, kept in midair by the dildos which would then slowly rotate, turning Bitchy with them. They were also linked to the acceleration of the car, the poles thrusting back and forth, accelerating as the car did, slowing down at it did. It was only a five minute journey to the office... but Bitchy could be very flustered by the end of that journey.

But Bitchy had been good today, so she got to ride in the front. She was knelt on the passenger seat, the plug in her mouth removed and replaced with Cornelius’s cock. It wasn’t really a blowjob.... he was simply using her to keep his cock warm and wet. Her frilly ass, the plug clearly on display, was pressed against the side window, easily viewable by anyone who came by, the nano-tattoos forming any number of phrases, Cornelius’ current favourite being “Cock Craving Car Cunt”.

And so the morning ritual was over. Soon the pair would be at work. Cornelius Fisk, the Special Operatons Consultant and head of the entire Departent. And Bitchy, the Office Ass-istant and Departmental Bitch.