The Slow, Insidious Corruption of April Devereaux
"Y-you can't do this to me," April stammered out, wishing that she could find some kind of indignant fury to color her voice instead of the meek, whimpering terror she could hear dripping from every syllable. "My boss, he--he knows where I've gone, and if I don't report back to him by Monday he'll--" The words were cut off by a long, distracting buzz from the massaging vibrator nestled snugly between April's spread thighs, choking off her speech into a gasp of embarrassed arousal and making her thrash uselessly in her restraints. Her cheeks reddened into a deep blush at the realization that her captor could see just what the toy was doing to her slick pussy.
He stopped the toy after a couple of seconds, leaving April desperately grinding at it for a moment before her brain kicked back in again and she realized it wouldn't do her any good, and smiled. "Oh honey," Violet cooed, her tone deceptively sympathetic, "you don't need to worry about all that. By Monday you'll be happy to tell him you think you might be on to something big, but you need some time to ferret it out and you won't be able to talk to him for a little while. And when that little while is done, you'll be so deeply conditioned to obey that your pussy's going to be a leaky mess the whole time you lie to his face about what you've learned. Believe me, sweetie, we're very good at this."
She rested her hand on April's knee, and the squirming reporter despaired at just how good the touch felt on her sensitized skin. "Don't worry, though, we're not going to leave you high and dry. We'll feed you some expendable little portion of our operation, some obnoxious and over-privileged twerp who's becoming a liability, and you'll look like a big journalistic superhero for exposing the depravity of the rich and powerful. And that's going to give you the credibility you need to help us keep what we do here a big secret like the good girl you know you want to be. Don't you want to be a good girl for us, April?" The toy buzzed again just as she opened her mouth, turning her answer into a gasp that soon became a mewling whimper when the thrum against her clit stopped again mere seconds later. April never realized just how easily she could be teased into pleading desperation until it happened to her.
"In fact," Violet chuckled, running her long fingernails along the inside of April's thigh, "I think we might use you as a bit of a janitorial service--you know, cleaning up the loose ends that always accumulate in an operation as big as ours. There are always a few witnesses looking for someone to listen to their stories, some clients who get a bit too big for their britches, even some subordinates who need to be discreetly disposed of. Having a journalist who can help to stage-manage everything is very useful for that kind of work. I think I should honestly thank you for trying to expose us. And you want to thank me, too, don't you?" Another buzz, breaking up April's response into fragments before it could fully form. It was disturbingly easy to get used to that.
"But don't worry," Violet continued, giving April's inner thigh an open-palmed slap that spiked the helpless woman's endorphins. "You won't be stuck like this forever. In fact, all you really need to do is convince me that you really, truly want to listen and accept what I'm telling you, and I'll give you the first cummie of your new training--you can do that for me, can't you, sweetie? Can you just convince me that you really want to open your mind up to what I have to say?" April clenched her jaw defiantly for a long moment, determined not to give in so easily… but the patient, meticulously-applied pleasure soon melted her resistance into desperation, and her lips parted in another helpless whimper as the toy buzzed her will away.
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