Ficly

And One To Grow On

Jes walked to the podium gingerly. She had practiced this speech often, but this was the night and the press wanted her statement on the city budget. Her red dress was thin, but not clingy. Her master had forced that. She had enjoyed a slave relationship with Tyler for two years, and his order today to wear the warp rings was simply to be obeyed. She wondered what game they would play later – but the velvet felt luxurious.

Tyler sat at his desk, the case before him. He looked to the TV – her speech, live. His wicked grin was broad. He flipped the latches, kept his eyes on Jes, and flung it open. In the velvet-lined interior lay her naked midsection, ass up. He’d considered fucking her, but the crop was going to be so much more fun.

Her eyes flared wide as she felt cool air on her butt – twenty miles away – while a robot acted as her thighs and stomach. At the first lash, two note cards went flying, but she kept herself quiet. Her skin prickled with the nervous thrill – it was her 34th birthday.

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