Shona's Surprising Slave - Chapter 25

Femdom romance in the CARGO 'verse, where the NHS installs permanent chastity devices!

Read more of my erotica…

(This really won’t make much sense unless you’ve read the earlier episodes! Also, I’ve shifted the last scene from the previous chapter to this one, and tweaked the end of it a little. Feel free to skip to just above the first subscribe button…)

The slave put his hands on Shona's bare waist. They were hot and clammy, but tolerable since it was just hands.

At 2AM she'd decided she couldn't sleep.

The Sleep Hygiene website said to use your bed for sleeping and sex, only. The summer heat and the tension before the big presentation made her horny anyway, so she had summoned her slave from his box room.

Doggy position had been a good choice, she decided. It was way too hot too much skin contact. She tilted her hips. "Go on."

The big dildo pleasantly filled her vagina, making it clench against the insensible intruder.

Her slave's thighs bumped her buttocks.

"OK," she said, "a good pounding."

"Yes, Mistress."

And he obediently pounded into her.

The dildo squelched in and out --- she no longer cared that that was an unladylike sound, because there was nobody to lose his erection nor make snarky jokes.

The knobs of the artificial penis made her vaginal muscles ripple and clench --- which was fine, because nobody was going to make a fuss about that, or suddenly have a messy unplanned ejaculation.

It was as simple as that.

One... two... three...

She lost count.

She lost her thoughts.

She lost her sense of time.

Each squelching thrust made her vision blur pink, her heart quicken, her breaths grow shallower, faster.

Shona groaned and groaned some more. There was nobody that mattered to hear.

Everything jumbled into a whirling pleasure, then faded.

She sprawled off the dildo with a slurping sound. Without looking back, she ordered, "You can fuck off now."

"Yes, Mistress."

And the slave was gone.

Victor would have wanted to finish inside her, or cop a quick blow job. Any other man or woman would have wanted to cuddle or talk.

Shona rolled onto her back and away from the wet spot.

Alarm set.

Presentation loaded to the cloud, also but saved on her laptop and a thumb drive... just in case.

What else?

Nothing.

Shona didn't have to wonder whether she had anything in the fridge for breakfast. It would be brought to her in bed, along with a perfect latte. That was just the natural order of things now.

She also knew without checking that she had a choice of freshly pressed suits and properly ironed blouses, that her shoes would be cleaned and polished... because that was just how her wardrobe operated these days.

Whatever mess she made getting out of the apartment, it would be tidy when she got home, the food restocked, deliveries handled, washing done.

There'd be a cooked meal ready for her, but she could get home late and tipsy having eaten out, and there would be no reproach. If she'd forgotten to eat, then she could have pretty much anything cooked for her.

There was sex on demand, but nobody demanding sex.

And if she had had a bad day, there were whips and chains and skin that was easy to mark, and that was so much cheaper and more satisfying than therapy.

Shona suddenly thought of her mother, abandoned to single parenthood and an early smoker's death. How many generations of the women in her family had revolved around the men, inhaled their pipe smoke, been skivvies in the kitchen, passive sluts in the bed? Taken the rough with the smooth, and maybe "walked into doors" from time-to-time?

Not Shona.

Or at least not right now.

Enslaving Whatshisname had been meant to be a hack just to stay on top of her life and maybe get in some fun while she went for Project X. But, right from the start he'd felt like her real slave, and she'd treated him that way and it had just felt natural.

He was a natural.

What was the term they used in period dramas? A treasure.

Well he was her treasure, and he wasn't getting away. She'd made him. He damned well belonged to her.

She was pretty sure she could make the new CARGO act work for her. The only snag was, she didn't have what Angela called "wiles" with which to manipulate him.

As she drifted off, Shona decided that tomorrow she would utterly obliterate Victor --- what a pity he didn't have a little red button to press!

Then she'd worry about keeping...

Mal...? Hal...? Cal...? Sal...? Val...?

Her slave.

She would keep her slave.

Wiles or not, she would keep Whatshisname as her slave.

Maybe Colleen would have some ideas how?

Twelve hours later, Shona stepped up onto the little stage and regarded her audience. They'd hired the building's downstairs conference room so as to cram everybody into the space.

That was a lot of senior people. Some of them had even flown in from the US office, more than the crappy British air conditioning could cope with. The windows were open, but everybody was sweltering. The quick-witted had removed their jackets before their armpits became soaked in sweat. The others just sat their slowly expiring.

Shona, however, was cool in her vintage olive pencil dress. It was formal enough not to need a jacket, but the stretch cotton hugged her curves unapologetically. The matching Cuban heels added extra inches to her height. The overall effect when she'd checked in the mirror this morning had been "Sexy 1950s School Teacher" --- certainly it seemed to make Whatshisname experience discomfort, which was probably a good barometer.

As she introduced herself to the audience, some of the men in the front row squirmed. One of the women crossed her legs.

Shona suppressed a grin. It had been this easy all along: Stand up straight, shoulders back, own the space, speak up in your adult voice... you're not a giant, other people are little.

"So, the thing about Project X..." She clicked the control.

Everybody laughed.

That wasn't supposed to happen.

She resisted the urge to look behind her and instead glanced at the screen built into the podium. It showed a looped animation of her dancing at a party, before her makeover. God she looked ungainly! Also, she knew exactly whose phone that had come off and she was not going to let him win.

Shona returned her gaze to the audience and took the standard advice of imagining them all naked, but then added in chains and bleeding whip marks. Also, Muscle Yank in the front row could maybe be going down on Preppy Blonde Girl in the second...

Grinning, Shona put her hands above her head and swung her hips a couple of time to mimic dancing without overdoing it.

That certainly got their attention.

She clicked off the projector. "The thing about Project X is that that is where we want to be in 12 month's time. Partying to celebrate our success!"

Everybody actually laughed.

She used that as cover to palm the thumb drive into the slot in the podium, then launched into her real presentation.

Everybody listened rapt, even the fat guy in the middle row who looked liked he really wanted to be jerking off instead.

Then there were questions, some of them awkward.

Shona was prepared for all of them. She even had pre-made slides to for the really difficult ones.

Then Preppy Blonde Girl identified herself as a top executive and then said, "Pardon me, Miss Armstrong. You give an excellent presentation, but are you senior enough to carry this forward?"

Perfect blonde with grab-me length hair and flawless make-up that made her seem younger than she was.

Bitch!

Shona had a flash of an Artemis future where professional women stuck together and men mostly stuck to working in service roles... but clearly we weren't there yet.

Her mind raced. Senior could mean experience, pay grade, or just age. Whichever she spoke to would highlight the deficiency, and invite a correction from the blonde.

"Oh aye," she said. "I come from a long line of women who just dealt with the business in front of them, whether it was hauling fish, raising bairns, or running the croft while the menfolk were away to war, and this is the business in front of me."

She flushed. Jesus fuck I can't believe I said anything so unprofessional...

Everybody clapped, even the annoying American woman who was now blushing delightfully.

"Thank you, Shona," said the Chairman. "Please send Victor in..."

Shona retrieved her thumb drive and swept out of the conference room.

Victor was waiting in reception. He smirked. "How did it go?"

"Great," said Shona. There was nobody around, so she grabbed his balls and squeezed, very hard.

Victor squeaked.

Shona kissed the top of his head. "Best of luck, little man."

Five hours later, Shona was partying... celebrating her victory and five hours after that --- around midnight, she found herself walking the preppy blonde back to her hotel.

Madison --- because of course that was her name --- had come up to her at the reception, all perky, and said, "That a totally authentic answer to totally stupid question!" Her cute Californian accent made Shona think of the high-school dramas she used to watch and imagine what it would be like to have more than twenty classmates, and maybe some close friends to hang out with. "It was my job to ask awkward questions." She lent in closer and carried on in a stage whisper. "I asked Whatshisname whether he had the focus for it and he just gobbled stupidly."

"Whatshisname? I..."

"You know, the guy who's a bit like the upper class bad boy in that movie... whatshername's diary?"

"Oh, the posh twat? Yes, I suppose there is a resemblance."

Madison put her small hand over Shona's arm. The touch was weirdly electric. "You're so authentic!" she'd cried.

So, they'd ended up talking careers, then life stories, then botched love lives --- Shona had closed her account with the Victor breakup. Now here she was feeling very grown up arm-in-arm with this sophisticated international woman who seemed to have everything in her life lined up the way she wanted it.

As they passed her street, Shona couldn't resist showing off. "That's my place down there."

"Nice!" said Madison. She tugged Shona's arm. "I want to see."

"Why?" asked Shona. "It's just a flat."

"Because," said Madison, "I am trying to seduce you, though obviously, I'm not doing it very well."

"What? Me?"

"Oh," said Madison, disentangling. "I'm such an idiot. I thought I'd gotten the vibe from you. "

"No, you did," said Shona. "Only-"

Only, I'm big and lumpen and...

She had a flash of Whatshisname looking at her like a smitten Golden Retriever.

This is New Shona, remember. The one that goes around neutering men and keeping a slave... though that part might be a problem.

"-you seem too nice."

"Even preppies like their pussies petted," said Madison.

Shona laughed even as she registered a tingle of interest. "You've used that line before."

Madison giggled. It was a sound so... perky that it was uncannily like being in an old porn movie.

Shona imagined stripping her of her business suit and making getting more authentic sounds out of her. She was petite like Tabitha, but much older and much better groomed. "How about your hotel room?"

"Not possible. The other execs are staying there." Madison frowned. "You have a live-in partner? That's cool. I love threesomes."

"No partner," said Shona. "I have..." She took a deep breath.

Colleen was young and cool and sort of kinky. Tabitha belonged to the alternative bubble of the eternal student lifestyle. Ruth and Angela were what her mother would call experienced hussies, for all Angela played the innocent.

However, Madison was nice and normal. She didn't belong in the same room as a slave in a drippy chastity cage.

She should text him, tell him to lie low. But that would somehow be hiding her whole self.

This couldn't possibly work!

But then her rant about her ancestors shouldn't have worked either.

"...a slave," completed Shona. "I have a live in slave."

"Just wow." Madison looked up at Shona with wide eyes. "A kink thing?"

Shona flushed. "Not exactly... well not all the time. Mostly he just does stuff around the flat."

Madison took her hand and tugged her toward the apartment block. She emitted another one of her porn star giggles. "Now I am intrigued."

---

If you haven’t already, now’s a great time to read my first novel in the CARGO ‘verse, set 10 years after the passing of the controversial Act!