Waking up to a flood of sunshine and the strong scent of coffee brewing, I stretched like a cat underneath the plush covers. I felt peaceful and well rested, ready to conquer this day despite the awkward tension I knew would be between me and both Morgans.

Only two more days Esme. Two more days, and another car ride. Stick to your guns, and keep your mouth shut unless it's to answer a question or ask one.

Wow I'm so full of good ideas.

As soon as I rolled out of bed, a rush of cool air grazed my bare skin. I shivered in delight, only to shriek at the sight of Mallory a few feet from me in the "kitchen", staring with a mug in hand. Grabbing one of the blankets off of the bed, I tried covering myself up to give myself at least a sense of decency.

"Good morning, Esme," the older woman purred, throaty and seductive. "Please, no need to hide yourself; I've seen it all before."

Rolling my eyes, I shuffled to my suitcase, not trying to lose my grip on the little coverage I had. This could have gone better. I wish she would have just stayed with her husband, rather than come back to the room. Would she talk to me about what happened last night? Well, let's hope not.

"Before you hurry off to get dressed, I want you to get into my luggage, pull out the small grey bag, and sit on the bed."

Humming in acknowledgement, I pulled out a simple outfit; dark jeans, white shirt, brown leather jacket, and a matching panty/bra set. I hadn't a clue what was scheduled for today, so better safe than sorry, aka punished.

I grabbed the bag, something light and oddly shaped inside, and held it in front of me, my eyes locked on Mallory. She didn't speak, instead flicked her eyes from me, to the bed. Taking the hint, I carried the item, and my sheet, over to the bed and plopped down. My limbs felt heavy already, and I knew if I sat any longer, I would definitely fall back asleep.

The dark haired woman rounded the counter and strutted towards me, wearing the same nightie she had had on last night, minus the robe. God, she's beautiful though. As disgusted as I was last night, and still nauseous this morning, I couldn't help but gawk at the vixen.

She snatched the bag from my hand, and used her other hand to grip my covers. "Either let go, or I'll rip it off of you and add a punishment."

Well, my options were limited.

Releasing my hold, a gust of air rushed over me from the movement of the blanket. Ignoring my instinct to shake and curl up into a ball, I clutched my palms to my thighs and watched Mallory open the bag and remove the mysterious object. It was pink and slightly resembled the ugly, deepsea fish that had a light over its head, except the "fish" part was smaller and slightly egg shaped and the whole thing was in the shape of a "C".

Mallory pressed her free hand against my knee, pushing it out and exposing my slightly unkept vagina (Mallory had told me to start growing out my hair). The same hand moved slowly, fingertips dragging up the inner portion of my thigh. I shivered, anxiousness and excitement swirling in my stomach.

Her palm covered me, fingers dancing in dark curls. "How wet are you, Miss Holland?"

"Probably enough," I rasped, my toes curling into the carpet.

A soft breath of ear escaped sinful lips, "Well I certainly can't have you guessing whether you're wet enough or not, so we'll have to fix that."

I moaned into the contact; Mallory's soft, plump lips pressing themselves into my flesh. Rolling my head back, a strong hum vibrated, causing my limbs to shutter. My legs started to close instinctively, but firm hands gripped the inside of my thighs, pushing them apart.

"Keep them open," Mallory asserted, and I couldn't help but obey because her tongue was moving in circles and my mind was absolutely lost.

Canting my hips towards the woman's nefarious mouth, I curled one hand into the sheets, and the other into velvet hair. I didn't care about the consequences; whether Mallory would stop me or not-- I simply needed this, craved it. "Please," I whined, tightening my hold of her hair.

The same tongue hardened, flicking and caressing every inch of me at an excruciatingly delicious pace. Pressure was building in the pit of my stomach, pulsating and begging for release. My abdomen was taut, pulled with pleasure. Slackening my jaw, a raucous sound ripped through my throat, accompanied by a pitiful imitation of a request. "Miss, please," the latter being stressed like it came from a child begging for their favorite treat.

All motion stopped, and I felt my body sit on the edge, seconds away from orgasm. Mallory released her grip on my thighs and quickly slid the pink, bulbed end into me, pushing until an inch of the "stem" was left visible.

Too shaken to speak, I watched in a dumbfound trance and the woman in question walked away and grabbed her phone. Just as I was ready to speak, surges of pleasure rushed over me. Straightening my spine, I whimpered a barely audible "oh" at the feeling of vibrating.

I didn't think it was a toy, let alone a vibrator.

Mallory looked up from her screen with a diabolical simper. Her gaze shifted back down, and the quivering in my cunt increased. My body slowly started reclimbing to the heights of my past pleasure, until the pulsating slowed to an unbearably snail-like pace.

"How delicious," the older woman taunted, satisfaction written all over her smug features.

I gained an inch of composure, rolling and grinding my hips into the toy. "May I come?" I pleaded, trying to sound as innocent and desperate as possible.

A simple "No" fell from pursed lips.

"Please!"

I was greeted with another "No", and "Now go get dressed".

I inched off the bed, each movement causing waves of pleasure to crash over me. "But it's still inside of me."

"Oh don't worry, my dear," Mallory taunted, "it won't affect your wardrobe choices at all."

"But-"

"No buts. The toy will say inside of you until you realize who's in charge."

Rolling my eyes, I allowed a small shudder to coarse through my legs before I restraightened my back and resolve. "So it's a punishment," I implied.

Mallory sauntered to her luggage and rummaged through it, her back towards me. "Think of it as a friendly reminder."

There's nothing friendly about it, but that went unsaid.

Practically stomping to the bathroom, grabbing my clothes on the way, the door was partially closed when I heard Mallory's voice. "Oh, and I forgot to mention," I could her the smugness dripping from her words, "you do not have permission to orgasm."

Slamming the door, I locked it to prevent Mallory from entering, and got dressed. This was not what I had expected when I thought today would be difficult.

-

I had went through two press conferences and a meeting with the vibrating toy inside of me. The antenna portion rubbed against the seam of my jeans, causing the bulb to move further, resulting in further discomfort. There were at least five times during this day that I had been so close to orgasming, only to be stopped by Mallory leaning over and whispering threats of punishment in my ear.

We, as in Governor Morgan, Mallory, myself, and some people associated with the governor, were seated in a decently fancy restaurant, waiting for our waiter to take our order. I was slightly indecisive, as I was mainly focused by the growing pleasure in my stomach. Mallory was seated beside me, an evidently fake smile plastered on her face as she exchanged pleasantries with somebody's wife. I felt isolated, but with good reason. At least if no one was talking to me, I wouldn't embarrass myself, and I could focus on not coming.

Win-win situation in my opinion.

Holding my menu in a way that'd hide my face, I scanned the wine section, knowing I'd need something. With further analysis, I noticed I could hardly pronounce half of them, and if you asked me what they tasted like, it'd be the simple answer of 'it's wine'. Thankfully, there was a full-bodied merlot, and beside it, had dishes that paired well with it. Easy enough, I picked the most appetizing sounding item, roasted lamb with grilled eggplant, tomato, and asparagus, and folded my menu on the table.

The waiter came, and thankfully, everyone seemed to have been ready. As soon as he left, I stood from the table and headed towards the bathroom, having to relieve myself and hoping to take out the stupid toy for a few moments. It had become annoying, and I was overly sensitive in that region. I was pretty sure if Mallory told me to come, I could on the spot.

To my relief, the bathroom was empty, only realizing that after pushing every stall door open. Hurrying into my own stall, I pushed the lock and unbuttoned my jeans, shimming them and my panties down my thighs. I reached down to the pink, protruding antenna and started to pull it out when a knock on the stall interrupted me.

"Occupied," I stated loudly, making sure whoever it was understood that I was in here.

"Do come out, dear."

Of course.
Of course.
Of course.
Why.
Why.
Dear God, why?

I grabbed the piece of silicon and started to pull it out. "I have to pee."

"Remove that toy and when we get back to the hotel, I'll have you over my knee, blubbering like a petulant child." Mallory's voice was stern and venomous. "Do I make myself clear?"

Rolling my eyes with an exaggerated sigh, I muttered yes and pulled my underwear and pants back up. Unlatching the stall door, I pushed it open, greeted with the dangerous and deadly woman.

Mallory, dressed in a beige pencil skirt, black sweater, and close-toed heels, raised her perfectly manicured hand, pressed against my chest, and shoved me back into the stall. The push caused me to stumble back, thankfully not resulting in me falling into the toilet. Joining me in the stall, Mallory locked the door behind her and positioned me against one of the walls, forcing herself upon me.

I stared her in the eyes, my breath heavy but not willing to look away. The sound of my zipper being pulled resonated in my ear, but was muffled by Mallory humming some tune. This was borderline creepy, and I wasn't sure what would happen.

"Have you orgasmed at all?"

Her hand found its way inside my panties, fingertips dancing across little curls, and I couldn't help but shutter.

I shook my head, desire pooling in my stomach. "No, Miss."

"Good girl," she purred, leaning in close enough that I could feel her breath against my lips. "And would you like to?"

"Please!" There was no hesitation, obviously. I simply wanted this to be over.

A soft hum fell from Mallory's lips, and I couldn't decipher whether she would or would not allow me to orgasm, so I figured that I could either sweeten the deal or kiss her ass, literally and figuratively.

"Please Miss?" I implored. "I've been a pretty good girl today." The words 'good girl' burned my throat worse than shots of liquor without a chaser. "I've been obedient, and super nice to everyone. I didn't come at all, even though I could have like five times. I'll do basically anything! You can tie me up, or blindfold me, or, or, whatever you want, I just--"

"Are you finished?" Mallory mused, hand still down my pants.

I nodded my head.

"Good. Now, let's take care of your dilemma, hm?"

Grunting, Mallory's fingertips rolled over my clit. My body tensed, head tilted back to expose my neck and chest shoved forward, accentuating my breasts. An orgasm was building fast, my lower abdomen coiling and contracting with every flick of the woman's fingers. That, combined with the subtle vibrations from the toy, was enough to have me panting and stammering like a marathon runner. Please rolled off my tongue like a mantra. My hips canted desperately to meet Mallory's agile fingers. Breath was hard to catch, and I was pretty sure my brain was losing sufficient amounts of oxygen.

Mallory's free hand slithered its way to my throat, staking claim and applying a soothing amount of pressure. I looked her in the eyes, dark and hooded, and begged, pleaded. Her serpent tongue slithered out of her mouth, and flicked my top lip. "Yes," she whispered, immediately clasping her teeth around my parted bottom lip.

Stars and white light blinded my vision. The pressure in my stomach was released, like water bursting from a dam, and it took all that I had not to scream my pleasure. My knees were weak, and if it weren't for being sandwiched between the older woman and the stall wall, I would have been on the floor like a pile of jello.

Wrapping my arms around her, I pressed my lips against hers, desperate for some kind of intimate contact. Her mouth didn't move at first, but after a second, her tongue slipped past and flicked my own tongue and lips before traveling down to my chin, neck, and collarbone.

"Thank you," I exhaled, a coarse, choppy laugh erupting from the back of my throat at the feeling of teeth nipping at my skin.

Mallory stopped abruptly, smoothed out her hair and outfit, and took a small step back. "Clean yourself up and go back to the table. We can discuss what you'll do for me back in the hotel."

She rushed out of the stall, and I heard the bathroom door open and shut. Buttoning my pants, I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. Why did I have to beg like a dog for scraps when she probably would have let me orgasm anyways?