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I looked down at the woman, Korra Flynn. She was naked and bound, kneeling, with her arms together behind her back and pulled up with a cord. Her knees were spread wide, and breast framed in a series of tethers putting everything on display. I walked around her enjoying the view, seeing every intimate part of her, and there was nothing she could do to hide any of it.
She made an unintelligible sound, impossible to decipher. The O-ring gag in her mouth prevented articulate speech but let me see into that hole too. I shoved two fingers in it and pushed them back gagging her as she struggled in the binds.
Her hair, face, bust size, hips, none of that mattered. That was all façade, it was Korra that, the bitch of a cunt woman behind those eyes that made me hard. Not for her, per say, but because she was bound, because she knew who I was, and hated me back with equal passion.
We were alone together in her cell. A cell Iâd made just for her. The center of the cell had a plain metal table bolted to the floor. This was made just for me, high enough that it came to my thighs. Its purpose of course to ensure that anyone thrown across it could be fucked however I chose with maximum comfort for myself. A bit less for the other.
Korra was on that table, kneeling and bound. She was almost eye level but had to look up, just a little, to return my gaze. From the reams of data my firm had collected, I knew that looking up, even slightly, created a perception in power differentials that I planned to use mercilessly.
Her eyes stared daggers at me as I reached out to touch the new piercing that had been put in her. One finger reached out for a nipple as she tried to flinch away. She said something or other and I ignored it. I wanted to feel that little device buzzing on her tit. When my finger made contact the tempo and frequency of the vibration changed, shooting waves of pleasure through her. She jerked back harder, her eyes now terrified and panicked. She now knew that when I touched her she would feel the most exquisite pleasure. It would be at least as intense as her hatred, but in time that would change.
âKorra, you fucking bitch of a cunt, you have no idea how long Iâve waited to have you like this.â
She thrashed as my finger drew lazy circles around the vibrating nipple piercing. I knew she was being overwhelmed with pleasure. Her face said otherwise, panicked, angry, filled with hatred. She gurgled something.
âWhatâs that? No⌠I really canât understand you.â
I shoved two fingers back in her mouth gagging her again.
âFor once in your life shut your fucking cock holster⌠Oh, right you canât. Well, be quiet at the very least. I want you to understand how and why it came to this.â
She quieted and even stopped thrashing but still flinched back trying to escape my torturous fingers.
âGood girl.â I said enjoying the sickened look on her face.
As a reward I reached out and grabbed fistfuls of her tits. I could feel the piercings vibrating away steadily in my palms, changing rhythms and pulses based on algorithms my company perfected in our first human trials years ago. I knew she was feeling the heat of my palms, sensations in her breasts, and warm gooey feelings reaching all the way down into her tummy. Just from a few squeezes of my hands. She whimpered, hating that I could do that to her.
âAt one time I really loved you. Thought weâd get married, live together, kids, vacations, the whole dream. When you dumped me, not even to my face, over the fucking phone, I was devastated. I couldnât focus on classes, couldnât sleep, tried to call you back a thousand times. Your dorm mates got sick of my buzzing, trying to find you in some desperate hope that I could talk you back. And you were just fucking gone. Out of my life. I was so depressed I considered suicide. You never told me why.â
I used this pause to play with her nipples, petting and softly pinching, rolling the vibrating piercings in my fingers knowing everything I did was magnified tenfold inside her.
âYou became queen of the University, the Belle of Campus. And never gave me so much as a glance. On to bigger and better parties, new friends, dating the most popular fucking jocks⌠I became a pariah, mocked, laughed at, shunned.â
âIn that loneliness I discovered something⌠I hated you. I dreamed of grudge fucking you every single day. It drove me. My focus on studies became monolithic. I graduated top of my tech classes. But it opened my eyes to something else. Psychology. I wanted to know what was wrong with me. What was so broken inside me that I would be shunned by every person that said they loved me. And I realized it wasnât me. It had never been me. You were just a narcissistic cunt. But I never forgot the pain of that loss. It haunted me ruining any chance for a normal relationship ever again.â
I slid my hands off your breasts pushing them down your tummy. Her eyes begged, pleaded with me to stop. It was a good feeling, powerful, knowing I could make such a hateful bitch beg, even with just her eyes. I relished the look on her face as my hands relentlessly travelled ever downward, both of us knowing their final destination.
âDo you know how many students graduate with both psychology and tech degrees? Hint, itâs not many. I was snatched up by tech firm after tech firm. And even though I worked hard, devoted myself to excelling, you still haunted me. I still found myself jacking off to thoughts of hurting you, humiliating you, destroying you.â
My fingers met a soft thatch of hair. I let them comb through it knowing the next piercing was so close. I could almost feel it buzzing through the skin. I let her watch as my gaze drifted down her body, torturously slow. She knew that Iâd be looking at her snatch all too soon. I leaned down just a little emphasizing that all I was interested in was her cunt. I could see the small hoop of simple silver. I couldnât see it vibrating, the motion was too small, too tiny. But not along her clitoral shaft, it felt like fingers working inside her relentlessly. I knew it was working, her slit glistened with moisture.
âI started my own company. I heard one of the prisons was looking for something to help make prisoners more compliant. Because of you an idea came to me. What if there were some device that could directly cause pleasure or pain in the medial prefrontal cortex. We got volunteers, tested some devices, and had great results. But they required mesh headsets, not something prisoners would wear voluntarily. And then someone asked, why go to the root? Why donât we try stimulation at the source?â
My fingers reached down and pinched the piercing at her clitoral shaft. It was slippery with her juices, and buzzing wildly. Every tug, every stroke of it causing little gasps.
âThe volunteer prisoners thought it was hilarious that a bunch of geeks wanted to pierce their nipples, earlobes, navel, and cocks. They had no idea what they were in store for. That first group had a 96% success rate in changed behavior. With a remote we could reward them with pleasure for being compliant, doing what they were supposed to. With a different button press we could hit them with agonizing pain. They became good little boys, backtalking guards ended, fights ended, they became perfectly compliant within a month. At the end of the three-month trial period we were able to demonstrate not only complete compliance, but they would utterly humiliate themselves if asked, theyâd do anything to make sure the pleasure kept flowing.â
I held up the controller and removed my fingers from her sopping cunt. She moaned, begging. I pressed the button, and she seized up screaming. I listened as her noises died down to pathetic whimpering. My hand went back to her sodden cunt, finger slipping easily inside as she groaned. The piercing vibrated against my palm, making her love the penetration that I knew she hated.
âThree months cunt. Thatâs all it takes for the Pavlovian response to take over. Weâll star slow, an orgasm here and there when I fuck you. Soon enough weâll jump the pleasure up so that every time you see me, youâll want to touch yourself. By the end of the three months, you wonât even need the implants, just hearing me tell you to cum will be enough. Youâll be a literal slave to your cunt.â
She writhed on my hand, trying to find that spot that would get her off, and hating how her body was completely betraying her.
âThe implants wonât let you cum until I give you permission. But when you do climax, it will be the most intense otherworldly feeling youâve ever had. Youâll live for nothing else but to experience the next one. Like a rat hitting a button for pleasure, ignoring food, youâll do anything asked of you. Degrade yourself. Humiliate yourself. Beg like you never have before. Like I said, a literal slave to your own cunt.â
I thumped my fingers hard on her g-spot, knowing her clit was ready to explode from the piercing overstimulation.
âAnswer a simple yes or no question for me⌠do you want to cum?â
She looked at me with those tortured eyes⌠begging⌠then slowly nodded as her eyes welled with tears.
I smirked, she was all mine.
âCum.â
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