The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

For the People (Chapter 12)

CHAPTER SYNOPSIS: The country reels in the wake of Emily passing her bill into law, and Devin receives a surprise guest.

DISCLAIMER: The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual person, event, or organization is entirely coincidental.

“Now look at this, right here. I’ve got a copy, and—yeah, let’s bring it up. If you haven’t see this, right here is this month’s Time Magazine cover. All Hail, it says. All Hail Miss Congress. Now, that’s in pretty bad taste, I’d say.”

Emily caught the eye of a young staffer—she didn’t know his name, what with all the recent turnover in her office—as she handed him a folder full of papers. There was a twinkle in his eye, like he was in with her on some private, silent joke. His eyes dipped to her chest, and she smiled at him before he turned and walked out of the office.

The TV was alive with the sights and sounds of ‘Bull Country,’ one of the rotating clown cars of punditry that fed and was fed by the soap opera of Washington politics. The hosts, gathered around a shiny black table in their busy faux-newsroom, held up a copy of the latest Time, asking with their eyes that the audience be likewise scandalized.

On the cover was Emily. She stood against a blank black background, smiling into the camera like the sunshine itself, her hip cocked jauntily to the side. She was clothed only in a string bikini patterned like the American flag. Even her rhinestone-crusted heels were colored in the stars and stripes. The photoshoot, taken just a few days prior, still lingered pleasantly in Emily’s mind, like the residual smell of baking cookies in a warm kitchen.

It was no surprise that the show was talking about that cover; it had made quite a splash all over the capital and the country. Her fashion choices at work had been enough of a departure from the norm. This was positively radical.

Big block letters on the magazine asked, ‘All Hail Miss Congress?’ To Emily’s mind, they would have done well to leave off the question mark.

“Bad taste, definitely,” another host was saying. “But can you really blame them? Look at what Emily Hobart has been doing. She comes into Congress as a dark horse candidate, the ultimate dark horse, really. She goes guns blazing as an economic reformer, then does a complete one-eighty and concocts the most pro-business bill —”

“Pro-America bill,” another host interjected.

“You can say pro-America if you want, with the kind of business freedom we’re talking about here. She designs the bill from the ground up and pushes it through the House against massive opposition, then holds hands, by all accounts, to get it through the Senate in record time. Now we just have to wonder, can she work the same magic to avoid a presidential veto?”

“Well I don’t think she has to, Tim. Sources on the Hill are saying that the Senate will hold their veto-proof majority if an override vote comes up.”

“It certainly seems that way. You can love her or hate her —”

“Love her!” Two of the hosts said in unison. They had a good laugh about that.

“You can love her or hate her, but I don’t think anyone can deny now that Emily Hobart is for real. There’s been this sort of scoffing attitude from her enemies on both sides of the aisle —”

“Because a woman can’t—No, listen to me, because a woman can’t just be herself and express herself in man’s world without—Excuse me, I’m not done.”

“I’m so sick of this immoral, feminist —”

“You can’t use feminist and immoral back to back like that —”

“— excuse for letting go of all moral standards —”

“A woman takes charge and shows a little skin and now it’s moral decay?”

“Please, let’s get back on topic.”

“I don’t know how to explain it. I’ll be the first to admit I was wrong. I thought Hobart was a pretty face when she got elected. But it increasingly seems like she’s got, I don’t know, some kind of magic touch.”

“There’s a lot about that woman that’s magic.” A greying male pundit hefted the magazine for emphasis. Emily’s body seemed to leap off the cover, as if inviting lewd stares and roaming fingers.

“Buddy, you have no idea,” Emily quipped as she turned off the TV.

* * *

An hour later, Emily stood in front of the Capitol Building in front of a podium, taking questions from a hungry mob of press. Her hair was teased and her makeup done to perfection. A bright yellow tie-front crop top bared her shoulders, stomach, and much of her breasts, while a white-and-yellow pleated skirt swished around her thighs. Camera flashes went off like machine gun fire.

“Congresswoman!” A reporter glanced at her notebook when Emily signaled to her. “Quite a few people have speculated that your support for the CLRRA is nothing more than a ploy to enrich your own fortune and that of your family, who famously hold the vast majority of interest in Argent Capital. How do you respond to that?”

Emily shrugged. “I would say: Who cares?” A buzz went through the crowd. It didn’t faze Emily a bit. “I’m a politician, and politicians have always used their positions of power for their own benefit. Of course I’ll get richer as a result of this bill. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have fought so hard for it. This isn’t a new thing. The only difference between me and the politicians you’re used to is that I’m honest about what I’m after.”

That really set the crowd ablaze. The reporter shouted to be heard over the noise. “Congresswoman, a follow-up: Do you believe that you deserve special economic consideration?”

“Rephrase the question, please,” Emily sneered.

“It sounds like you’re saying that you’re entitled to the fortune your family has amassed, and to see that fortune grow regardless of who it might hurt.”

“Of course I deserve it. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have it. That’s the beauty of capitalism. You get exactly what you deserve.”

“That’s pretty easy to say for someone who’s gotten everything they want.”

Emily chuckled. “Was that a question?”

“Congresswoman, without a level playing field —”

“Level playing fields are a myth. You either take what you want or you’ll have it taken from you.”

“But aren’t you the one taking it from us in this case?”

“If I am, then you know exactly who to vote for. You do want the strongest person you know to be in office, after all.”

* * *

Emily’s whole world was Moira’s pussy. Moira’s hands were deep in her hair, pulling her in tight. Emily wiggled her face a little, using the tip of her nose to flick at Moira’s clit while her tongue lapped at the juices between her pussy lips.

She peered up at Moira, spread out on the office desk. Moira’s tiny, taut body was gloriously naked except for black ankle boots. The heels on those boots were carving grooves into the expensive, previously-shiny desk. It hardly mattered. Emily cared more about the sex than the desk. She briefly reflected that this might be the most oversexed desk in all of Washington, D.C. It was a wonder that it hadn’t fallen to pieces over the last few weeks, with the workout that it continually got.

“Fuck, baby,” Moira whimpered. “Who’s my little beauty queen fucktoy?”

Emily grinned. “You know I am,” she murmured into Moira’s cunt. There was no real power disparity between the two of them—not like there was with Devin or Eileen or even Maddy—but Moira increasingly enjoyed that kind of talk, and Emily wasn’t about to stop her.

Devin had privately wondered to Emily if it was tied in with the recent jump in Moira’s erratic behavior. She shouted a great deal these days, she was prone to hysterical laughing fits. Most alarming, she had developed what could best be described as a cruel streak.

“That’s right, baby, eat that pussy. On your knees in front of your own desk. I fucking love looking at you like that.” Emily tingled at the words even as she promised to get Moira back for them once their positions were reversed. Not that it was easy; the harder that Emily rode Moira’s face these days, or talked down to her, or spanked her cute little ass, the grin never seemed to leave her chief-of-staff’s lips.

“You should have seen yourself up there, bitch,” Moira continued. “At that podium. The whole world fucking watching, and you just tore them apart. My sexy little queen bitch. Going out in a blaze of glory, who gives a fuck. They love you, they need you, they want you to fuck them. They need you to tell them how it’s gonna be. You don’t give a fuck about anybody, just you and yours against the world.” She caught Emily’s eye. “And who’s your number one?”

Emily stopped licking Moira’s pussy for a hot second. “Devin,” she smirked.

Moira’s open hand caught Emily on the cheek with a percussive smack. Emily snarled and leaped up from her knees, tackling Moira back onto the desk. Their lips found one another, tongues snaking against each other as they writhed on the desk. Emily’s enormous boobs pressed against Moira’s smaller ones, driving her down. Documents scattered to the floor. A commemorative pen holder crashed over as well. Emily’s fingers found Moira’s wetness and she slid one in. One was all that would fit.

Instantly, Moira broke their intense kiss and arched back. “Oh fuck, fuck yes baby. God I’m so close. Don’t stop. Don’t you fucking stop.”

Stop is exactly what Emily did. Moira’s eyes went wide in panic. “Wha…?”

“Say please,” Emily growled.

“Please. Please!” It started as a plea and ended as a shout.

Emily again began pumping and curling her finger inside Moira’s pussy, and her friend rewarded her by squirming and moaning like a cat with a satchel of catnip.

Emily bent down to kiss the hollow of Moira’s throat while the smaller woman went over the brink towards cumming. She remembered Devin’s concern at Moira’s behavior ever since they had come back from Virginia, that low rolling boil of instability. Emily saw it as well, but where Devin saw danger, Emily saw a vivaciousness in Moira that finally equaled her drive and intelligence.

Are you sure you can handle her? Devin had asked Emily once, in the dead of night.

Looking down on Moira bent backwards over the edge of her desk, Emily asked, “Whose slut are you, bitch?”

Moira barely had breath to gasp. “Yours. I’m your slut. God, Emily, I’m your dirty little slut.”

Emily smiled with vulpine glee. Yes. Yes, I can handle her. And I’ll be so, so happy to.

* * *

“It seems reports of your demise were exaggerated, Cavenshaw.” Falcmaro watched with interest as a news report replayed Hobart’s shocking press conference from the Hill. The headline bannered at the bottom of the screen read ‘Libertine Congress Amasses Influence.’ Given the outfit that Hobart was semi-wrapped in, plus her devil-may-care attitude, ‘libertine’ hardly began to cover it.

“I don’t know where you got those reports,” Devin’s voice came in over the phone. “I told you every step of the way that this was going to end just fine.”

“You’ll understand if I don’t find you completely trustworthy.”

“I don’t understand it, actually. There was a minor glitch on my end a few weeks ago, but I’ve been on the up-and-up with you from day one.”

Like hell, Falcmaro thought. Hobart’s flight into the wilderness had been anything but minor, and Cavenshaw was still cagey about his methods and true motivations. Falcmaro hadn’t gotten this far in life by taking people at their word, Devin Cavenshaw least of all.

“Well then. I suppose thanks and congratulations are in order.”

“You can save them for after the President signs the bill. I’ll have Hobart give you her commemorative pen. As a gesture of good will.”

“Thank won’t be necessary. I don’t put much stock in that kind of symbol. Plus, those pens can’t write worth a damn.”

“You do have such particular tastes. Well, this will conclude our business. If you would please deposit the last chunk of my fee into the same account, you can go about enjoying your brand new freedoms, courtesy of the federal government.”

“You know, Cavenshaw, you could always come work for me full time. Director of Special Projects. Name your salary, benefits, whatever you want.”

Falcmaro could just hear the shit-eating grin on Cavenshaw’s face through the speakerphone. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’m a little beyond a weekly paycheck.”

“Where will you be going now, then?”

There was a pause. The background static of the phone crackled with uncertainty. “I suppose that’s the real question,” Cavenshaw finally answered. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

The receiver clicked as Cavenshaw hung up. “No, you won’t,” Falcmaro murmured bitterly to the empty air.

He considered for a moment. There was something to just taking the win and running with it. Hobart’s turnaround had left Tellamon—along with the other largest American corporations—holding unprecedented power. They were poised to take advantage of a profit potential undreamt of in history, and Falcmaro would be at the helm of it all. He’d been preparing for this for months. All his teams needed was a go order to start up special projects that would strip-mine, clear-cut, shale-frack, and otherwise thunder across the American landscape to remake it in their own image.

Falcmaro would definitely give that go order, but that still left the matter of Devin Cavenshaw and his mysterious mind controlling abilities. As valuable as Tellamon’s current opportunities were, they were nothing compared to the golden goose that Cavenshaw was holding. True, the consultant had faithfully honored his contract, and he’d be paid on that basis. But that couldn’t force Falcmaro to ignore the power that was right under his nose. He would buy it if he could, but if not, he would take it by force.

He picked up his phone and dialed. “Janine Castinetti,” came the crisp voice on the other end.

“Move on them. Use Hobart if you can, but get me Cavenshaw.”

Janine’s answer was immediate. “Right away, sir.”

Falcmaro didn’t need to tell her more than that. Janine knew how far he was prepared to go on this. She could handle it. She could handle anything.

Indeed, even before she had hung up her cell phone on the other end, Janine was typing out a command into her laptop, pinging commands off of satellites and down to several data centers scattered across the world.

* * *

Devin opened his door to find a stunning olive-skinned woman on his stoop. Her conservative blue skirtsuit couldn’t hide her willowy, alluring figure. It took Devin a moment to push through the rush of blood in his ears at his attraction to the woman and recognize her.

“Janine, right?” He tried to keep his alarm under control. One of Falcmaro’s employees, here?

“Hello, Devin. Moira Casselbeck sent me. May I come in?”

It was so strange to hear her call him by his first name. “Moira?” He peered around her to the street, half-expecting to find black-clad gunmen waiting there. But there was nothing. “You’re Falcmaro’s right hand. How do you even know Moira?”

“I’ll explain once we’re in the air. For right now, she said that she’s sorry about the trucker in Virginia, and that you’d know what that meant.”

Devin did know. Moira was mortified about her attempt to escape Devin’s control a little while ago. They had kept the details of it under wraps. If Janine knew about the hit that Devin had taken, it could only be because Moira or Emily had told her.

Janine took Devin’s hesitation for uncertainty. “She also said that I could blow you if it helped get you out the door.”

“I’ll take you up on that, but maybe not right this second. Come in.” Devin moved aside and let Janine come in. He was starting to get a picture of what had happened.

Moving carefully, Janine checked the house to make sure no one else was there. She plugged a small device into Devin’s wifi router, then attached another with bare wires into the fusebox at the back of the house. “You have a go bag, right?” she asked Devin. He took a moment to grab it, hefting over his shoulder ten million dollars in cash, his passports, a change of clothes, and a few other sundries in a black duffel bag.

They went quickly out to a waiting towncar, and Janine explained herself. “Falcmaro wants you brought in. He wants your tech. Moira saw the writing on the wall, so she recruited me to help you from the inside.”

“She did what? How?”

“How do you think, sir? She said you’d want to take some time and train me yourself, but she did a good job showing me how Falcmaro is the bad guy here, and that I need to devote myself to helping you.”

Devin shook his head in resignation as the streets of DC rushed by the car windows. “You give that girl an inch…”

“I got myself put in charge of Tellamon’s hunt for you, and right this second I’m wiping all their servers of all knowledge of you, from pay stubs to facial recognition. You’ll be mostly clean, but your current houses are too dangerous. He’ll calm down after a while. But for now you’ll have to lay low.”

“What about you?” Devin wondered. “You can’t go back there.”

“I embezzled enough money to keep me comfortable. But I was hoping I could come with you, wherever you go. You’ll find me… very appreciative.”

Janine punctuated her point by dragging her maroon-lacquered nails across Devin’s crotch. He was struck by the change that had come over this previously proper, professional woman. He’d never seen the results of his tech before without also seeing the process. Jumping right to the end was somewhat shocking.

Devin’s eyes flicked to the driver of the town car, a young woman with a black bob cut under a brimmed cap. She looked somewhat familiar.

Janine followed his eyes and his worry. “Don’t worry. Eileen is one of us. She won’t leak anything. In truth she lacks the initiative now to do much besides follow basic orders and simple jobs like driving. Moira wasn’t gentle with her. I’m glad I wasn’t her first.”

The dome of the Capitol receded in the distance. Devin watched it go for a moment, then turned away. “Thank you. You did very well. I’ll be glad to have the breathing room.”

“You’re welcome. Our friend Madison helped a lot, too. I couldn’t have been nearly as complete as I was without her working her computer magic.”

“Shit, Madison. Where is she?”

“Still in place. She’s covered, though. No one has any idea about her involvement. She says she misses you already, but I promised that she’d get to see you soon. If you decide to call her, she’ll come running.”

That was good. Devin was rather fond of the spunky, voluptuous little spy, and not just for her usefulness in the office.

“You were a good assistant to Falcmaro, weren’t you?” Devin observed wryly.

“How could you tell?” Janine’s smirk told Devin that she knew the answer to her own question.

“What about Emily?”

Janine’s smile softened. “She said she could spare a day after a victory like this.”

* * *

Devin’s private Boeing Dreamliner was already warmed up on the tarmac when he climbed aboard. He said hello to the pilots—both trim middle-aged women who were only too happy to work exclusively for Devin and not ask questions—then sat down in a leather swivel chair across from the victorious Congresswoman Hobart.

“I think congratulations are in order,” he started.

“I could say the same to you, Daddy,” she smiled back.

As if on cue, Janine appeared with a bottle of champagne. She had shed her business suit for a deep green satin thong and corset that accentuated her long, delicate frame. Devin felt his heart jump in his chest.

Janine caught his look. “Ms. Hobart said you’d enjoy me looking my best for you, sir.”

“Oh, I do. I’ll definitely be taking you up on that blowjob later.”

The idea seemed to tickle Janine. “As you command, sir,” she said with wink. She poured Devin and Emily two glasses of champagne and then vanished into the back of the plane to give them privacy.

Emily wasted no time. “Now that your job is done, will you be keeping me?”

Devin snorted a laugh. “How could I not?”

“What will you have me do? Stay in Congress? Follow around at your side?”

Devin shrugged. “I don’t really care, as long as you come when I call.” Emily gave him a curious look. “As despots go, I’m the laissez-faire kind,” he explained.

“It’s just as well. There’s not much chance of me staying in Congress for much longer. But that was never the idea, was it?”

Devin took a sip of champagne, a wistful look in his eye. “I suppose I could have been a bit more subtle with you.”

“Subtlety sucks,” Emily responded bluntly. “I’d much rather be out there, up in faces, blasting myself to the world.” She raised an eyebrow. “I wonder if it’s the original me feeling that way, or what you put in me.”

“I suppose we’ll never know. Cheers.”

The two of them clinked glasses and shared a moment of silence enjoying their bubbly. Emily toyed with the neckline of her gold sequined halter top and looked out the window as the tarmac whizzed by. Devin took a moment to gaze intently at her breasts, loosely cowled in her top. Such a simple joy, taking them in.

“I could always take active control of Argent Capital,” Emily mused. Devin gave her a look, which she answered. “Argent is a gold mine of potential, and my family has been squandering it for years. With me at the helm and the new protections I just got them, who knows what we could do? Besides, corporate executives are the only really important people… I’d like to be one for real.”

“I had a feeling,” Devin agreed. “Maybe I should buy some stock.”

“Maybe I should be buying stock in you,” Emily countered. “Any move I make, I’m sure you’ll have thought of it long before.”

That made Devin smile. Even with all her ruthlessness and brilliance, her conditioning to think of him as superior and more intelligent still held. He wondered if it were at all true; he was no slouch when it came to brain wave dynamics and electrical engineering, but Emily had a fierce mind of her own.

“What about you, Daddy?” Emily asked him. Her pet name for him contrasted nicely with her elegant sluttiness as they took off in his private jet.

“Oh, I imagine you won’t see me for a while.”

A pang of sadness crossed Emily’s face. “What? Why?”

Devin looked out the window as Washington receded into the distance below them. “As much as I broke you, honey, I’m afraid you got me pretty good yourself. I feel a little bit like Icarus. I need some time to figure out why I’ve been flying all the way up there.”

Emily screwed up her face in disgust. “You’d be wasted in a therapist’s office, Daddy. Or in a monastery.”

Devin laughed. “I wouldn’t count on either of those. Just a break. Some self-reflection. Maybe I’ll go to Burning Man.”

“That’s something I would pay to see.”

Devin grew serious. “The fact of the matter is, I can’t move up from you. Once you’ve got the premiere slut in the world wrapped around your finger, the slut breaking game is pretty much done. I’m going to have to find something new.”

Emily looked terrified. “Are you leaving me?”

“Not for good. I’m not insane. And you’ll have Moira to entertain you in the meantime. Try to keep her out of jail, would you?”

Devin downed the last of his champagne and stood. Emily quickly followed suit, holding onto the back of the seats for support. Her heels were not made for the swaying of a plane on ascent. Devin took her by the hand.

“Let’s head to the back. We have finite flight time, and we shouldn’t be near the pilots for this.”

They found Janine waiting near the galley, just within earshot if they had shouted for her. Devin gestured for her to follow them aft. Her ass swayed invitingly in her thong, the narrow band accentuating the lines of her hips.

Soon they were in the plane’s bedroom. It was large enough that a king-sized bed was possible, surrounded by elegant wood-paneled furnishings, the arc of the plane’s ceiling curving overhead like a barrel-vaulted cellar. Devin placed nullifiers in his ears and then set his phone out on a counter, an imperceptible hum in the air.

“Down, honey.” Devin pointed to the floor at the foot of the bed. A reverent Emily sank to her knees immediately. Janine looked on with a raised eyebrow.

“Janine,” he asked then. “What are you?” She looked confused. “What are you?” he repeated.

Janine hesitated. “An executive assistant? A corporate operative? A passenger on a plane? A human being?”

Devin smile reassuringly. “You have so much to learn. But we have time.” He gestured to her corset top. “Take that off, slut.”

Janine hesitated again. Devin corrected her. “When I address you as slut, you need to respond. Slut.”

His gentle tone brought Janine around. She reached up to the front clasps of the corset and slowly peeled them apart. Her breasts had a beautiful teardrop shape, as demure and delicate as the rest of her body. She dropped the top to the plane’s deck and looked expectantly at Devin. He gestured for her to lay on the bed, and she did.

“You used to dress so professionally for your job. How does this feel?”

“I feel all right, sir.” She wasn’t convincing.

“Be honest with me.”

Janine swallowed. “A little ashamed. Embarrassed.”

Devin nodded. Moira had done a good job in bringing Janine to their side—absolutely essential, in all likelihood—but she clearly hadn’t had the time or inclination to go too deep with the training.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get over that soon. You have such a beautiful body, you were meant to show off. Tell me, slut. Have you ever been with another woman?”

Janine adjusted herself onto the silk-cased pillows. “In undergrad, a couple times. That’s all.”

“Why so little? You clearly love it so much.”

“Clearly? How do you mean?”

Devin gestured for Emily to stand. “Strip,” he whispered to her. Emily complied slowly, running her hands over her body, her eyes on Janine, swaying to a sound that could have been the whine of the engines, some unheard music, or the delightful hum of Devin’s broadcaster penetrating her mind.

“Look at Emily,” Devin continued. “You can’t deny that she’s beautiful. She’s incredible. You know she is. How could you not be attracted to her? Of course you are.”

Janine did indeed look captivated by the slow, sensuous reveal of Emily’s body in front of her. Emily’s pale curves reflected the sunlight streaming in through the cabin windows. She looked angelic.

“I am,” Janine admitted softly.

“There you go,” Devin encouraged her. “It feels good to admit it. And if you like one girl, you can like others.” Janine nodded. “Good. Let that just sink in. Enjoy her.” Devin and Janine jointly watched Emily for a couple of minutes, the rolling movements of her body creating their own kind of music in the air.

Devin had Emily lie down on the bed next to Janine. The contrast of their skin tones on the sheets was a blend as sweet as sugar in coffee. Janine couldn’t take her eyes off of Emily.

“Janine, would you like Emily to make you cum?” Janine couldn’t nod fast enough. Devin chuckled. “Well, I’ve got bad news for you.” Janine looked at him with panicked, glassy eyes. “Emily is better than you. She’s a boss. A queen, compared to you. You’re nothing but a fucking employee. A hot piece of ass, but just an employee. A slut that we picked up to do our bidding.”

Janine’s gaze looked right through him. “But… I was important…”

“You’re only important as much as you please me. You need to please your betters, and no one is better than me. Emily will only go down on you if she wants to or if I command her to. But you, you’ll do whatever we say, because you’re nothing compared to us. You’re just a servant who works for the joy of serving. No matter how good you are at your job, no matter how smart or skilled, you’ll always know that you’re nothing next to me, and next to her.”

Emily’s smile was wicked. Her fingers toyed at her pussy as she watched Janine pant in shock, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

“Good girl, Janine, my slut,” Devin continued. “Moira told you part of the truth, but not all of it. You’re not just devoted to me, loyal to me. You need me. You can’t function without me. Your whole life you’ve been searching for a man who could control you like I do. Show you how small and powerless you really are.”

“I need you,” Janine whispered throatily. Her husky voice was sexy enough most of the time, but now it positively poured fire into Devin’s veins, and Emily’s besides.

“Daddy,” Emily asked, “can I?”

“Absolutely,” Devin grinned.

Emily reached out and grabbed a hold of one of Janine’s small, dark nipples, twisting it just slightly. “Get down there and eat my pussy, slut,” she growled. “Show me what a good girl you are for me and my Daddy.”

Janine slid down the sheets in one smooth motion, bringing her mouth in line with Emily’s shining pink pussy. Before she could begin, though, Devin held up a hand to stop her.

“Beg for it,” he sneered. “Show us that you want it. That you want to be our slut.”

“I… I don’t…” Janine said. A tear splashed down on Emily’s thigh.

“Yes, you do,” Devin insisted gently. “You’ve always wanted to be my slut.”

“I’m not like this. I’m better —”

“You’re better than nothing,” Devin cut her off. “You’re nothing except what I say you are. You want to be what I say you are. You want to be my slut.”

“I want to be… your slut,” Janine repeated with difficulty.

“Good. Again.”

“I want to be your slut.”

“My cocksucking, pussy eating, servile slut.”

“Yes. I want it.”

“Good. Moira did such a good job, bringing you to me. Now you can be slutty and powerless for the rest of your life.”

Devin nodded quickly to Emily, who grabbed Janine by the hair. “What are you waiting for, whore? Make me cum all over that pretty little face.”

Janine went to work with gusto, shoving her tongue inside Emily as deeply as she could. There was no need for foreplay; Devin could smell the sweet tangy scent of Emily’s pussy from across the room.

Emily caught his eye and grinned. “Too close to the sun, huh?”

“Old habits die hard,” he quipped. “Especially the ones I really like.”

Devin spoke to the two of them for a time, coaching them through their new roles together. He turned the broadcaster off after only a few minutes. These two needed to stay sharp. Besides, he wanted to join in the fun.

Janine’s pussy was an absolute dream. Devin mostly enjoyed her from behind, her long, thin legs propping her pussy up for him like a portal to another world. She took him with wide eyes, looking over her shoulder to make sure she was pleasing him. Until, of course, Emily demanded her attentions again.

The flight to Lisbon thus passed very pleasantly for all three of them. By the time they landed, Janine’s tears had been replaced by a quiet contentment, doting on Devin as would a devoted pet. Before they had even disembarked, Janine and Devin had arranged for the jet to be hangared at a private airfield outside the city. They wouldn’t use it for a time, not while Falcmaro was likely to try tracking them.

Devin spared a moment to wonder about Falcmaro’s rage at learning that Janine had betrayed him and that his chief ambition had fallen apart. Giotto Falcmaro was not a man who was used to losing. Hardly my fault, Devin mused. He can cry himself to sleep on the tens of billions of dollars I just earned for him.

Emily chartered a return flight to Washington without wasting any time. There was still much to do in her remaining time in Congress, before a recall vote or some other such nonsense came together to depose her for everything she had done. Nothing could stem the tide she had unleashed, though. A large slice of American society had latched onto her as a kind of prophet for a new breed of female politician; ruthless, inventive, brutally honest, and unrelentingly, daringly feminine.

American democracy would not recover for a century, or so the liberal news outlets claimed. The American people were now subjects to a cruel oligarchy fueled by a desire for ever-higher profits. The sentinels of liberty had been bought and paid for, led by a beautiful terror who had betrayed them all.

Devin and Emily had a laugh about those reports while they waited for Emily’s charter to be fueled. In this, at least, they shared the victory with Tellamon. The closed captioning rattled along on the airport terminal’s TV sets while the two of them shared a private goodbye.

“I can’t wait to get Argent’s holdings in hand and really kick things into gear,” Emily practically licked her lips. “Maybe our first new division will be in logging. There are a lot of small towns out there with no defenses.” She was flush with the delightful, cruel irony of the idea.

“You’re gonna do great, honey,” Devin assured her. “You were always too good for government work anyway.”

“Thank you. Thank you for everything, Daddy.” She toyed with the lapel of her long overcoat. She was nearly naked underneath, and it wouldn’t do to attract the attention of cameras right now. “I mean it.”

“You’re welcome, my little corporate whore.” Emily smiled shyly, but there was something off about her look. Devin cocked his head. “What is it?”

“Can you… Can you take it out?” She pointed to Devin’s pocket, where his broadcaster rested comfortingly by his side.

Curious, he did so. “Another man might think you were asking to see his cock,” he quipped.

“I don’t ask for that, I beg for it,” Emily said back as Devin put in his nullifiers. “May I?” she asked.

“Sure, honey,” Devin answered, handing her his broadcaster. In the back of his mind he wondered if she’d do something as dramatically treacherous as smash it to bits on the floor, but he wasn’t worried. Even if something went horribly wrong, he had a dozen spares hidden away around the world.

Far from being destructive, Emily handled the broadcaster with loving care. She turned on the application with Devin’s help and brought the unit up close to the side of her head, where its influence could be felt most strongly. Her eyes struggled to focus, but she managed to keep her gaze on Devin.

“I will miss you every day that you’re not with me,” she started. “Whenever you call, I’ll answer, and whenever you want me I’ll come to you. I’m so grateful to you for making me what I am. You’re the only man in the world for me. I will do everything I can to please you even when you’re not there, and I’ll be happy to do it. I love being your slut. I’ll gladly dedicate myself every day to keeping myself how you want me to be, hot and ready and dedicated to being your slut. What you want matters most. I want to do what you want me to do, always.”

Devin smiled down at her as the broadcaster hammered into her head, reinforcing the truth she felt behind what she was saying. It was a beautiful gesture, and one that made his cock move in his pants even after the marathon they’d had on the plane. She was giving herself to him, in her own voice. If there had been any doubt in his head about her loyalty, there no longer was.

A dirty grin blossomed on her face as she finished. “And on top of all that, I’m the dirtiest, most unforgiving, most ruthless corporate bitch out there. While you’re gone, I’m going to rake in as much money as I can and eat my way through every cute pussy I can find.”

They laughed together as Devin accepted the broadcaster back from her. He saw Janine pull up in a rented limo out on the tarmac. He squeezed Emily’s hands goodbye and gave her a slight kiss on the lips. He could still taste Janine on her.

“Take care of yourself, slut. I’ll see you soon.”

He turned and walked outside to where his car and his newly-acquired assistant-slut waited. He waved to Emily through the windows as he got in the car, Janine joining him in the back. The old walls and buildings of Lisbon trundled by the tinted windows, taking them to one of Devin’s many off-the-books homes, paid for in cash under an assumed name.

His phone chirped with a text notification. It was from Moira, a picture of her naked on her hands and knees, blowing a kiss to the camera. See you soon, I hope! read the text underneath.

Stay near Emily, Devin answered her. Obey her. Please me now and you’ll see me soon. He stowed his phone then, tearing his thoughts away from how much he would miss the elfin operative and her dangerous machinations.

Janine must have sensed the trouble in his mind, the worry that came from being adrift in a strange new world, unsure of his place in it and of the next steps for his life. All the money and all the power…

“Sir, can I do something for you?” Janine asked anxiously.

Devin favored her with a gentle look. “Yes. Go ahead and suck my cock until we get to the house.” He knew it would make her happy, and it would certainly help sooth his nerves a bit.

Janine sank onto the floor of the limo and took out his cock, breathing its scent in with relish, feeling the heat of it against her cheeks and lips. “This job is so much better than my last one,” she murmured as she took him into her mouth.

Devin relaxed into the warm, wet clutches of his new assistant’s mouth while the stones of the old world rolled by under a blue and inviting sky. Whether he had meant to or not, Devin had changed the world, and had even managed to come out the other side more or less whole. But where did he fit in that world?

Janine had just brought him to full hardness when she saw the look in his eyes. She let the tip of his cock slide out of her mouth and looked up at him. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

His gaze stayed out the window. “Tomorrow,” he answered.

THE END