Chapter 30
Porter
I had very mixed feelings about Gowry’s request, however well it demonstrated that Alex’s naughty plan had already begun to work.
“An interesting question,” I said.
I kept my tone dry, almost conversational, because if I let any more of what I actually felt into it the room would have grown too tense, too quickly.
The most basic, almost animal, level of my dominance did not like the idea of Gowry’s hands on Alex.
A little above that, at a slightly higher level of my psyche, I had to admit that the idea of sharing her in this controlled way had hardened my cock.
More, some hot, dark current of her submissive need had plainly wanted this moment brought into being. I had already seen enough of her to know that if a thing both excited and unsettled her, there was no better way through it than to make her face it under my direction.
I set her coat aside carefully and looked at her for a moment, before I returned my attention to Gowry.
“This little slut’s panties do have to come down tonight anyway,” I said. “Alex has been very naughty.”
I glanced back at her. Her face had changed immediately. Her blush had deepened, her lips had parted. I could see the conflict beginning in her: mortification, fear, arousal, and even that little spark of pride she sometimes got when confessing something especially shameful.
Gowry leaned back in his chair a fraction, one ankle crossing over the opposite knee. “Has she.”
“Yes.” I kept my eyes on Alex. “Tell the senator what you did, little slut.”
She swallowed. Her hands had gone tense at her sides, fingers curling lightly against her thighs. For a second I thought she might try to remain silent. Then her chin lifted.
“I touched myself,” she said.
“That’s not an adequate account.”
Her eyes flicked to mine and away again. “I masturbated without permission, sir.”
I let the words hang there. Gowry said nothing, but his attention intensified almost palpably.
“Tell him properly,” I said. “Where.”
“In my apartment.”
“Wearing what?”
“A… an… um… a green babydoll nightgown… he… Porter… I mean, my sponsor… he told me to wear it.”
“The senator deserves the details, I think. How did you begin?”
She let out a tiny breath through her nose. I watched the struggle in her and felt, against my own better instincts, the same harsh fascination I had felt watching the feed from California. Alex seemed to have a way of becoming more herself the more completely I drew her into her shame.
“I…” Her cheeks flamed hotter. “I was on the bed. I put my hand between my legs… over… you know, over the nightgown first.”
“Then?”
“Then… um… under it.” Her voice had gone quieter. “I touched my… my… my cunt.”
Gowry’s gaze moved over her with brutal directness now, and I saw Alex register it.
I thought I could even see a part of her congratulate herself for having used such a hot, filthy word in the senator’s presence.
From behind, I saw her bottom tense, as if she had just squeezed, down there, helpless to control her naughtiness.
“Don’t omit the interesting parts,” I said.
She shut her eyes for a moment, then opened them. “I was very wet.”
“From what?” I led her onward. “What were you thinking about?”
Her voice came out small and strained. “Being… being… punished.”
“More specifically, Alex. Senator Gowry should know the whole situation, don’t you think?”
“I was… I was thinking about being…” Her voice got even lower. “Being caned by… by my sponsor.”
* * *
Alex
It seemed cosmically unfair that it should arouse me so much to be humiliated this way, but I could no longer deny it.
My throat worked.
I could feel Gowry’s eyes on me, and Porter’s, and the memory of my own body on that bed in the green babydoll seemed to flare inside me, not as a memory but as something like a porn video, with myself as the slutty star.
“I touched my clit,” I said, and even that made my face burn harder. “At first just lightly. Then… you know… harder.”
Porter’s tone remained maddeningly calm. “And after that?”
I knew what he wanted: what part of the story he thought most worth sharing with Gowry, but I couldn’t seem to get there, as humiliating as the process of having it drawn out of me had already become. “I… I spread my legs.”
“Why?”
I saw it in my head. The girl in the green nightgown, on the bed, wanted to be seen.
She wanted to do dirty enough things to earn the cane.
She wanted her sponsor to look at her and know what he had made of her.
But I couldn’t say that with Gowry there, his hand still resting with infuriating casualness on my hip as if my body were on loan to him.
“So I could touch myself better,” I whispered.
“That’s incomplete.”
The room seemed to narrow. I had the crazy feeling that if I looked anywhere but at Porter I might simply dissolve from shame. “I… I touched my ass too.”
Gowry shifted slightly in his chair. The movement was small, but I saw it.
Porter didn’t let me stop. In fact, he raised the level of degradation a huge notch.
“I think you should show the senator how. To illustrate the kind of challenge you pose, as a fuck toy.”
A tiny sound escaped me before I could prevent it, a kitten’s mew, as my pussy clenched hard at the contrast between my sponsor’s brutal words and his refined tone.
“Show the senator, Alex.”
My hands moved. I hardly believed they belonged to me.
I reached behind myself with one hand and, through the little strip of fabric that constituted the thong’s back, I touched the cleft of my bottom.
The gesture felt grotesquely intimate and revealing even with the panties still in place.
My fingers trembled. My face aflame, I slid them lower, enough to indicate the place.
“More clearly,” Porter said. “Show and tell, Alex.”
The detached part of me watched in fervid amazement as I obeyed. I hooked my fingertips more definitely at my rear and let my knees part just a little.
“I touched my anus,” I said, the last word nearly sticking in my throat.
“While doing what with your other hand?”
My free hand curled against my thigh. “Touching my… my cunt, sir.”
“And what did you say while you did it?”
I shut my eyes for one second. That had been the worst of it on the feed, hadn’t it? Not merely that I had disobeyed, not merely that I had masturbated, but that I had narrated my own degradation like a little actress desperate for her sponsor’s approval.
“Answer.”
“I said…” My voice nearly failed me. “I said I knew how much you like to use me there.”
“There?”
“In the ass.” I could hardly force the words out. “I said you like to use my ass.”
Porter’s gaze remained steady on mine. “And what else?”
I thought I might actually die of shame. Instead I heard myself speak.
“I said… I said… I’m an ass whore.” The words came out in a broken whisper.
“Louder.”
My cheeks flamed so hot that I felt dizzy. “I said I’m a little ass whore.”
Gowry let out the faintest breath through his nose. I didn’t dare look at him, but the sound alone made my stomach twist.
Porter’s voice went lower. “And what does a little ass whore need?”
I stared at him. He stared back. There was no refuge anywhere.
“A cock,” I whispered.
“Where?”
“Up her bottom.” My whole body had gone tight. “A cock up her bottom.”
Porter let the silence sit for a beat, as if the room itself should absorb my confession. I could hardly believe I had said it. Hardly believe I had said it in front of the senator who had first dragged me into this twisted, hot, political-sexual abyss.
Then Porter turned his attention to Gowry.
“I had made the consequences very clear,” he said, in his quiet, controlled voice. “If Alex played with her cunt without permission, she knew she would be caned. She chose to test that boundary.”
Gowry’s eyes moved over me, assessing and darkly interested. “And now you intend to follow through.”
“Of course.” Porter gave the smallest shrug. “Otherwise one says things one doesn’t mean, and that would be poor training.”
The word training made heat dart through me again, awful and instantaneous.
Porter looked at me, then toward the desk.
“Go and bend yourself over the senator’s desk, Alex. It’s time to learn your lesson.”
I moved, as if under a spell. Because… because…
I have no choice.
The desk looked exactly as it had in my dreams and in my memory: broad, polished, unforgiving. I placed my hands on it, bending slightly, then hesitated.
“Lower,” Porter said. “Reach forward and take hold of the opposite edge.”
I bent farther, my breasts pressing against the wood, my bottom lifting behind me in the tiny red thong. Every inch of me knew what shape I made like that. Every inch knew I had been arranged as an object for masculine discussion… masculine correction… masculine use.
Behind me Porter said, “Senator, if you’d care to help me discipline her, perhaps you’d be kind enough to take her panties down for me, as you asked to do.”
There was a pause. I heard the scrape of leather as Gowry stood.
“I would,” he said.
My pulse pounded in my ears.
Porter went on, dry as ever. “To be clear, I’m the only man who has the right and responsibility to whip Alex. I’m rather firm on that point. She’s the kind of girl who should be shared, though. After her punishment we can discuss how she will thank you for assisting in her training.”
The words sent a dark, sick thrill through me. Shared. After. My body seemed to hear the words at a level deeper than my reeling brain.
I heard a kind of thunk, and then a metallic snap. It took me a moment to understand that Porter had moved his briefcase from the floor to a side table, and opened it.
“You came prepared,” Gowry’s voice said drily.
“Of course,” Porter said. I strained my ears. Had he taken it out? I couldn’t hear anything…
Then a terrifying sound. A swish, high-pitched. A long, thin, stiff object traveling rapidly through the air.
“And she’s never been whipped with one before?” the senator asked, his voice laden with amused curiosity.
“She has not,” Porter confirmed. “I understand you used your belt on that pretty backside. I’ve done the same.
And she’s had her cunt spanked with my open hand.
But I find the cane, above all for illicit self-pleasure, really doesn’t have any competition as the best instrument of correction for little sluts like this one. ”
A forlorn wail came from my chest, as if I had heard the faraway Alex allow it to escape. I knew I must be visibly wet, now.
Then a sound that seemed, in the moment, even worse than the terrifying swish. Gowry sniffed the air.
“Oh, yes,” Porter said. “Alex’s cunt does perfume a room very naughtily, doesn’t it?”
I whined at that, my whole body on fire with mortification and helpless, humiliating need.
“Please, Senator,” my sponsor said. “Go ahead and take those panties down, if you’d be so kind.”
“Of course,” Gowry replied.
He came up behind me. I could feel him there even before he touched me. Then his hands settled at my hips—bigger, rougher feeling than Porter’s, though not clumsy. He hooked his fingers in the sides of the thong and drew it down very slowly.
The feeling of the air moving between my bottom cheeks made me shiver.
The thong slid over my thighs, then lower.
He obviously meant to savor the act of exposing my bare pussy and my cringing anus, the site of my naughtiness.
At my knees he paused just long enough to make me feel how trapped I was, bent over a United States senator’s desk with my panties around my legs waiting to be caned by the man who paid for me.
Then he pushed the lace down the rest of the way.
“Step out of the panties,” Porter instructed, his voice taking on a hard note that sent another shudder through my limbs.
I obeyed, lifting first one foot and then the other carefully, suddenly absurdly afraid of ripping the beautiful red lace.
Somewhere beyond my pounding heartbeat I knew this was working.
I knew Gowry was aroused. I didn’t need to see his face to know it: I felt as if I could hear it in the slight thickening of his silence, sense it in the patience of his handling of me, in the charged stillness that had taken over the room.
Porter came nearer. “Hands stretched out. Stay where you belong. You will have six.”
“Yes, sir,” I whispered.