“It was a typo!” Sarah yelled. Her face was red with rage and disbelief, her hands clenched around the arms of her chair. They were alone in the office, and the door was closed, which was good, because otherwise someone would have heard her raised voice.
Lachlan looked at her and tried to decide whether he liked her more like this, because of how she was so clearly upset, afraid, and out of control – or whether he’d prefer her calmer, with her pretty face not so scrunched-up and her shoulders back so as to better present her exceptional tits.
He decided he would have time to enjoy them both, so she may as well be furious for now.
“That’s not how the police will see it,” said Lachlan. “Or the government. Or the media. The Secretary of the Department of Women transferred nearly a million dollars intended for domestic violence shelters into her personal bank account. You’ll definitely lose your job and your career. You’ll be lucky if you avoid jail.”
“Come on, Lachlan,” said Sarah, shifting to a wheedling, seductive tone that Lachlan immediately enjoyed. “You know this isn’t me. I wouldn’t do this.” It seemed that Sarah Rose could be pleasant, when she tried – which made a first for everything, Lachlan supposed.
“It’s not about what I believe,” said Lachlan. “I conduct internal investigations of misconduct within the public service, and I present my reports. It will be for the government, and the courts, and the public to decide whether you’re an embezzling fraud.”
Her face scrunched up again, and the merest hint of a tear appeared in the corner of her eye. “The money was going to the shelters! But when I was getting the bank account, I copy-pasted from the wrong document, and put in my bank account instead! It was there less than a day! I would have noticed it tomorrow and transferred it back!”
“But I caught it first,” said Lachlan. He didn’t mention how he had caught it. He didn’t mention that he had been watching the computer system of Sarah Rose closely for a number of months, hoping that the bitchy, big-titted feminist executive would slip up and do something to land her in his lap. Since the first time he had caught sight of her – a porn star’s body packed into the tight executive suit of a grade-A bitch – he had been consumed by fantasies of forcing her to sexually submit to him – and now those fantasies were about to come true.
“Isn’t there anything I can do to make this go away?” asked Sarah. “It’s so ridiculous!”
“You need to start taking this seriously, Sarah,” said Lachlan. “It’s not a minor matter. If you are going to avoid jail, you are going to have to make a major commitment to follow the public service code of conduct from this point forwards.”
“Of course!” said Sarah. “I always follow it anyway!”
“Until now,” noted Lachlan.
“Just this one time!” said Sarah. “And by mistake!”
“Well…” said Lachlan. “There is one thing we could do.”
“Anything,” said Sarah.
“Personally, I don’t think you should be in control of even something so simple as your car keys, let alone the entire Department of Women,” said Lachlan. “But I’m willing to give you a chance. I’ll be watching you closely, and if you can go a full year without breaking the public service code of conduct, I’ll leave you be.”
“Of course!” said Sarah, gratefully.
“But each time you break the code of conduct, you’re going to surrender one thing you have control over,” said Lachlan.
“What do you mean?” asked Sarah.
Lachlan passed her a piece of paper. On the paper was a list of 25 items. It read:
* Your bladder
* Your body shape
* Your career
* Your comfort
* Your diet
* Your emotions
* Your ethics
* Your family
* Your finances
* Your friends
* Your heart
* Your history and life story
* Your intelligence
* Your interests and hobbies
* Your name
* Your opinions
* Your possessions
* Your privacy
* Your reproductive system
* Your sexuality
* Your style
* Your transport
* Your vocabulary
* Your willpower
* Your workspace
“What’s this?” asked Sarah, her pretty face furrowing in a scowl.
“It’s a list of things you have control over,” said Lachlan. “Each time you break the public service code of conduct, you surrender one to me.”
“Are you fucking kidding?” spat Sarah. “My sexuality? My reproductive system?”
“Or I can just make my report exactly as I planned to,” said Lachlan calmly, “and we can see what happens.”
“You really think I’ll do this?” said Sarah.
“I know you will,” said Lachlan, “because if you agree, you’re going to make use of a little piece of experimental technology I have access to. We were going to trial it on some employees in fields with a lot of confidentiality, to stop them leaking sensitive information. It’s a hypnotic program that makes you uphold an agreement you’ve entered into. You agree to do something, you go through the procedure, and you’ll find it almost impossible to break that agreement.”
She stared at him to see if he was serious. He was.
“Or I can make my report,” he said again. “I think you’d fit in well in jail, personally.”
“Who chooses which one I surrender?” asked Sarah.
“You can, most of the time,” said Lachlan. “I’m generous. Every third time, though, it’s my call. But that won’t matter, right? Because you’re not going to break the code of conduct.”
She looked at the list. She looked at him. She looked at the list.
She thought about it for a very long time. She almost made Lachlan nervous that she was going to refuse.
Then, finally, she said, “Okay.”
There was a rebellious look on her face. She thought she was going to get the better of him. Either she’d never fuck up, or if she did, she’d weasel out of the consequences.
It was okay, though. Because Lachlan felt that, very soon, what Sarah Rose thought about any topic at all was no longer going to matter even a little bit.
He took her to the room where the “Securo-System” was stored. It was little more than a reclining chair – like at the dentist’s office – with a large helmet that went over the user’s head and completely shut them off from the world around them.
Sarah nervously got into the chair and let him put the helmet over her.
“Is this safe?” she asked from inside it.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s been tested fairly extensively.” Then he worked on strapping her arms and legs into the chair.
“Is this really necessary?” she asked. “How do I know you’re not going to molest me?”
“They’re to stop you falling off the chair,” said Lachlan. “The procedure can be disorienting.”
And then he flipped the switch to start the machine.
Within the helmet, a series of flashing lights would begin to bombard Sarah, accompanied by droning, high-volume noise. He watched her twitch a couple of times, pulling against her bonds – and then, slowly, go limp.
He waited 20 minutes, and then came over and touched her wrist. No response. Then he touched her inner thigh. Again, no response.
Grinning, he worked her pencil skirt up to her hips, revealing a pair of lacy pink panties, which he pulled down her legs. To his pleasure her cunt was completely free of hair. He thought she must have gotten a laser treatment at some point. Then he opened her blouse, and pulled her large tits out of her bra. He was surprised to find they were natural – he had thought the bitch had had a boobjob, given how exceptional her udders had looked through her suits, but they turned out to be a home-grown double D.
He got out his phone and photographed her tits and her cunt, for his own private records. He had discovered he could do this while testing the machine on interns working in a minister’s office. Once the procedure started, they were oblivious to the world around. He had developed quite a file of nude photos of ambitious young women, and some day he would use it to secure some significant favours. He had even fucked one of the women as she lay in the machine, cumming in her unprotected twat, and then carefully sponging away the evidence before putting her clothes back in place. She had gotten pregnant from it, and as she had been a lesbian the discovery of the baby inside her had been confusing and distressing, and resulted in her breaking up with her girlfriend and quitting her job. He still got hard thinking about it.
He wasn’t going to fuck Sarah Rose now, though. He was playing a long game with this bitch, and when he eventually fucked her, it would be far sweeter than a quicky with her unconscious body.
He did begin to gently rub her clitoris, though. The creators of the device had noted that it worked better when the user’s mind was affected – they suggested certain drugs, but it turned out that arousal had the same effect. He heard her begin to gasp from within the helmet, and watched her pussy wetten and her nipples stiffen. He kept gently teasing, until he felt her start to buck her hips, trying to get more pressure on her clitoris. At that point, he replaced her panties and skirt, stuffed her tits back into her bra, and rebuttoned her blouse.
She spent three hours under the device. Lachlan wanted to make *really* sure the procedure worked. When she emerged, she was dazed, confused, and dishevelled.
“All done?” he asked her.
“What? Yes…” she said. Her voice was a little slurred.
“Are you going to honour your agreement with me?” he asked her.
“Yes, sir!” she said immediately. Her voice was clear and crisp – and her eyes widened, because clearly she hadn’t expected to say that.
“Good girl,” he said – and enjoyed the flush in her cheeks at the demeaning compliment. “So, what are you going to surrender first?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Well, you’re going to surrender one thing for each breach of the code of conduct,” said Lachlan. “And it was a breach of the code of conduct that got you into this mess. So you need to surrender something. Which will it be?”
He gave her the list.
Her eyes widened in horror. She hadn’t expected to surrender anything at all – but now she could feel the hypnotic programming in her mind, holding her to her deal, forcing her to think about this, forcing her to make a choice to surrender something to him.
She looked at the list, her eyes bulging, her throat swallowing convulsively. Her body shook.
Lachlan waited. “Which will it be?” he asked. “Your body shape? I think there’s always room for your tits to be bigger, how about you? Your intelligence? I think you’d be a lot more attractive if you were dumber, honestly.”
She started to cry again – and he decided instantly that she was *much* prettier when she was crying.
“My transport,” she said, finally, obviously choosing what she thought to be the safest choice. “I surrender my transport, sir.”
And then she gasped – and he knew that she was feeling the hypnotic programming make her choice *real*. She could feel her ability to make her own decisions about her transport vanish.
“Good girl,” said Lachlan. He went over to her and stroked her hair with one hand. She tried to jerk away, but he caught her by the front of her blouse.
“I control your transport now,” he told her. “And from now on, you don’t travel between any two locations without asking me for permission first. You just send me a message on social media asking for permission, and if I say no, you don’t go.”
She grimaced – but knew it was true.
“Now, give me your car keys, kitten,” said Lachlan.
“Don’t call me kitten!” spat Sarah – but she was already reaching into her purse, and bringing out the fob that controlled the locks on her car. She passed it to Lachlan.
“Good girl,” he said again. “Now, to bring home to you that this is real, I’m not giving you permission to go home tonight. You can sleep in the office. I’ll see you tomorrow, Sarah. And I’m going to have a little surprise for you then…”
And he left her there, fuming, trapped, thinking just how much fun he was going to have with this bitch.
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