“Right, right, right,” Piper nodded. “And what’s the other option?”
“Continue wasting time and making things worse for yourself,” answered Officer Deacon.
“Ooh, I’ll take wasting time, please!” Piper clapped her hands. “Lots of time. And other resources too, if you have them handy. This is literally what I came here for, so that’s perfect.”
Officer Deacon sighed, began cleaning her glasses on her gray uniform dress, and turned to address Kristen as if Piper were no longer there, except in the form of her file on the tablet.
“Saboteurs,” Officer Deacon explained. “They’re even rarer than the ones who try to escape for pleasure alone. This one probably thought she had what it took to infiltrate us at the officer level, and when she realized how demanding the program actually is, she decided to get herself kicked out in the most flamboyant possible fashion.”
Kristen watched, with no small amount of awe, as Piper rock happily back and forth in her chair while she waited. Kristen had always thought of herself as a bit of a button pusher, always testing the limits, but she could never imagine sitting so fearlessly in Piper’s position, as if how much trouble she was in meant nothing at all.
“What do we do with her?” Kristen asked, ready to be even more awed with the elegantly effective way Officer Deacon would no doubt bring this tough case under control.
“She thinks she wants to waste time,” said Officer Deacon. “Fine. We control what that time is like for her.”
Officer Deacon got up, opened one of the wall panels, and retrieved a device Kristen had learned to dread in class. It resembled a cattle prod and served roughly the same purpose, though it was calibrated for safe human use.
The officer flicked the switch to make it spark menacingly.
“You see, unlike an impact device, I can use this safely no matter what position the subject is in,” she explained to Kristen, though Kristen suspected the words were mostly for Piper’s benefit.
“A subject like this one might try to make you spend the length of a normal session just trying to get them over the table, or onto their knees. There’s no need to allow that. With the prod, it’s not a problem.”
She jabbed the end of the prod into the back of Piper’s steel chair in demonstration, making her yelp and jump to her feet when the charge conducted across the seat.
“Glad Zach didn’t think of that,” Kristen muttered to herself.
“What was that?” asked Officer Deacon.
“Nothing, just something from class.”
Piper was now bouncing on her feet across from Officer Deacon, keeping her distance but darting back and forth like a boxer looking for an opening.
“The prod can also be used from anywhere in a standard-sized visitor room,” said Officer Deacon, standing as still as a stone pillar.
In her own time, she pointed the prod at Piper and pushed the button to extend it, catching her on the upper arm as she tried to dodge backward.
“Ha! Is that as high as the charge on that thing goes?” Piper taunted, rubbing the spot on her arm where the prod had connected.
“No,” said Officer Deacon adjusting a dial under her thumb. “This is.”
She struck again, this time just under Piper’s navel, leaving a scorch mark on her white tunic.
Piper shrieked and then rested a moment with her hands on her knees, probably fighting twinges in the irritable nerve that ran from navel to clit.
“I’ve… had worse,” she gasped, straightening up. “How many points is that now?”
Officer Deacon let slip the smallest smile.
“Oh, this doesn’t count toward your debt,” she said. “This is just an incentive to treat time with more respect.”
She dialed the power down slightly and touched the prod to the Piper’s right breast, making her jump back and clutch at her nipple, which must have hardened painfully under its pastie.
“This will continue, once every fifteen seconds, or whenever the hell I deem it necessary, until you select the actual method for your first debt recovery installment,” Officer Deacon explained. “At least ten points must be recovered through genital discipline, and I recommend you get them out of the way first. That plus forty points for the video itself will do for today.”
She touched the prod to Piper’s calf. Piper jerked her foot away from the floor and grabbed the back of her empty chair to steady herself. Officer Deacon promptly sent another charge through the chair, without waiting the fifteen seconds.
“If you have difficulty making decisions under stress,” said Officer Deacon. “I will give you one chance to review the list undisturbed. I strongly suggest you make a good-faith effort at it.”
“Okay, okay, stop.” Piper raised her hands, breathless. “I’ll do it.”
“See? Only…” Officer Deacon paused to check the clock on her tablet, “…three and a half minutes from ‘let’s waste time’ to ‘I’ll do it.’ The right tool for the right job.”
She shut down the prod and handed it to Kristen for safekeeping.
Kristen held it with due respect for its weight and power.
“May I sit?” Piper asked. “May I take that undisturbed look now?”
“Yes. Don’t waste it,” said Officer Deacon, placing the tablet with the debt recovery menu queued up in front of her.
Piper scrolled through the menu quickly and purposefully.
“Ten strokes of pussy paddle 2,” she said, pushing the tablet away. “Please.”
“Fine,” said Officer Deacon. “Remove your clothes and sit on the long edge of the table, legs wide. Kristen, set up the camera and get the paddle.”
Kristen opened the wall panels that concealed the video camera and screen and turned them both on, so that the screen displayed a live feed of the room. She kept herself out of the way so that Piper could see the larger-than-life image of her own body, naked except for her pleasure-proof pasties, pussy displayed front and center. Every detail was captured with perfect clarity, down to the lightest freckles on her gently rounded belly.
Kristen pressed the record button and moved on to the impact implement section to find the right paddle.
Pussy paddles were narrower than the standard kind, so as to land cleanly between the hip joints. Some of them had slight padding, in acknowledgment of the density of nerves they were designed to hit, but not this one. It was covered all over with a smooth but hard vinyl finish.
“Read this statement,” Officer Deacon directed Piper, tapping her tablet to start the newly customized text scrolling across the screen.
Piper cleared her throat nervously.
“I was totally out of control today,” she read. “I wasted a huge amount of time and energy on stealing an orgasm I hadn’t earned. I—”
Piper’s voice cracked, and for a split second, Kristen thought she might be shuddering or sobbing in anticipation of the punishment to come. Then she tossed her head back, and the sound resolved into a cackle.
“Actually, it was three!” she stroked her exposed labia, giggling. “So, now I’m required to beg the Bureau’s charitable attention, to correct my flaws and redeem me for my willful self-indulgence. This should be fun!”
“What are you doing?” Kristen hissed, without even thinking to modulate her voice to a dominant tone.
“Reading the statement!” said Piper, all false innocence. “Mostly.”
“She’s incurring an additional fifty-point fine, which we’ll deal with later. That’s what she’s doing,” said Officer Deacon. “Do I need to turn the prod back on?”
“I mean, you could try,” said Piper. “But honestly, I could have kept going with that for a while. I just really wanted to skip ahead to starting the camera.” She waved at the lens. “Hi, everyone! I masturbated without the world falling apart, how ’bout that!”
“You don’t think there’s actually anyone watching this feed, do you?” Officer Deacon asked.
Her tone sent an unexpected chill down Kristen’s spine. It was cuttingly derisive and even more jarringly loud. Not once in the days she’d been shadowing her had Officer Deacon ever needed to raise her voice. The effect was harsh and unsteady, like an off-balance piece of heavy machinery that might soon rip itself apart.
“This will all be edited down to the most useful material for the good of the public!” she went on. “In fact, there’s no reason it has to be captured in the standard order. Kristen, begin collecting the debt. Take as many strokes as you need to in order to get ten good ones.”
Warily, Kristen handed the prod back to Officer Deacon and positioned herself between Piper’s legs, off-center enough to block the camera as little as possible.
“For every stroke, you will give me a reason why you got yourself into debt,” Kristen told Piper, the words feeling less like an order and more like a tentative prediction in her mouth. “Any stroke not accompanied by a different, true reason will not count toward your point deficit.”
“Awesome,” said Piper, drumming her hands on her thighs and prompting an excitable-looking jiggle. “Ready when you are, bureaucrat babe.”
She held Kristen’s gaze hard, grinning.
Kristen brought the paddle down with the usual, middling force she used for a first hit, listening to the smack of skin and moisture.
“I was horny!” Piper started simple.
“Harder,” Officer Deacon directed.
Kristen gave her a second, sharper smack.
“I wanted to cause trouble for the Bureau,” said Piper.
Smack.
“I wanted to get caught.”
“Why did you want to get caught?” Kristen prompted.
Smack.
“So that you’d be obligated to put my face on TV!” Piper crowed. “And have to figure out a way to turn whatever I say into a PSA for you instead of for me. I’m really, really curious if you can pull it off. My guess? By this time next week, this footage will have run just once, to avoid showing ‘favoritism’ to a pain in the ass like me, and then been buried. And people will still be talking about that crazy chick who was able to get out of her device, and hey, maybe we can too!”
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