Unspoken Pleasure

Governor Greene smiled as she asked her, “Meeting me, serving at a gala fundraiser tonight or trying on shoes?”

Ashley, blushing bright red, admitted, “All three, ma’am.”

“Your girlfriend is adorably cute, Jenny,” the Governor chuckled.

“I couldn’t agree more,” I smiled, winking at a befuddled, star-struck Ashley.

“You two are both so cute,” the Governor smiled. After a pause she asked, “Can’t you choose just one pair, Ashley?”

“It’s like trying to pick only one flavour of ice cream,” Ashley said.

“Mmmm,” she purred, “I do enjoy a variety of flavours.”

I knew her message was naughty, but Ashley didn’t catch on.

I added, enjoying a variety of flavours myself, “Spice is the variety of life.”

“That it is,” Governor Greene nodded, before offering, “each of you can keep three.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Ashley burbled, as if she had won the lottery.

“That’s very generous,” I said.

“I can be very, very generous,” she smiled back, giving me a sly wink.

Ashley was still oblivious to the naughty innuendos that were being tossed back and forth as she focused on her shoe selecting.

Governor Greene added, “So, you two will be servers for the fundraiser.”

“Okay,” I nodded.

“And although you may both receive some attention from the guests,” she continued, “you’re both off limits until after the auction.”

“Okay,” I agreed, curious to know what kind of auction it was.

But Ashley wanted to know, “Off limits?”

The Governor explained, “You’ll have to put up with it if they pat your cheeks or your bottom, but they’ll have to wait before taking any further liberties with you, and even then it’s up to you what to allow. There’s a fine line between sexual harassment and sexual freedom, but we do draw one here: no means no, no matter who they think they are. But bottom patting and even cheek pinching top and bottom are assumed to be okay, so if you object to those you’d better tell me now.”

“Oh,” Ashley blushed, “no, I guess that will be all right, Mistress.”

Governor Greene handed me a sheet of paper. “I hate to have you sign this, as I trust you completely. But my legal affairs manager insists on all people here signing it.”This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

“What is it?” I asked.

“A non-disclosure agreement,” she said. “Essentially, what happens in my house, stays in my house. It also mentions what I just said about bottom patting. It’s very thorough, but not sneaky.”

“Of course,” I nodded, signing it without question.

Ashley signed one too and Governor Greene announced, leaning in and kissing me briefly, “Ten minutes.” Ashley was too busy looking at shoes to notice.

Once she was gone, I joined Ashley and we finished selecting our shoes.

I slid on a pair of black four-inch open-toed heels, and also selected a five-inch pair of black heels and a four-inch pair of gold ones.

Ashley picked all five-inch heels in black, red and lastly purple, a colour I couldn’t fathom anyone ever wearing except to a formal wine tasting.

With both of us wearing our new black heels, I asked, “Ready?”

Ashley joked, “I kind of feel like Alice about to drop into Wonderland.”

I smiled, as she referenced one of my favourite books, “Well, at least there’ll be two of us this time, and nobody screaming, ‘off with her head’.”

I won’t bore you with the details of the next couple of hours. We served food and drinks to over a hundred impeccably-dressed women, including some I had seen before at Le Château Club, many high-end women, a few celebrities, and, as she’d promised, Mistress Megan.

A couple of women, well seven actually, which is a more than a couple, gave me business cards, a dozen either squeezed my ass, pinched my cheeks or caressed an arm or leg. I was given lots of compliments and couldn’t believe how crude women of means could be. Their familiarities also had me incredibly horny and wet.

I was also shocked by the fact that there were events on a make-shift stage where the guests could gamble as part of the fundraiser. They included:

-a pretty college-aged woman on a Sybian, where guests could bet on how long it would take for her to come as she tried to hold off as long as possible (the female version of riding a mechanical bull).

-an older woman being fisted to orgasm (guests again betting on how long to splashdown).

-another woman in her forties I’m guessing, on another Sybian, this time the betting on how many orgasms in half an hour (thirteen turned out to be the iconic lucky number). I wanted to go and ride that toy.

-a parliament of sorority sisters (think peafowl) who competed to see who could come first while ass fucking massive dildos suction-cupped to the floor (I couldn’t fathom ever doing such a thing).

My pussy was on fire by the time Governor Greene finally appeared onstage with a microphone.

“Good evening ladies, and I hope you have enjoyed the festivities so far,” she opened.

There was polite clapping.

“This fundraiser is very important as all proceeds go to a very good cause,” she said, and after pausing for dramatic effect, “the cause of electing the first female President of the United States.”

The crowd erupted. I gasped… my hero was going to run for President!

The crowd clapped enthusiastically for several minutes it seemed, before the Governor could finally speak again.

“And tonight, we have five special auctions where all the proceeds will go to my campaign,” she continued.

More applause. I felt like I was at a rock concert.

“Up first, a weekend as a submissive at my old alma mater, Athabasca Conservatory of Advanced Athletics. You will serve as the complete submissive for the entire sorority, pleasuring so much young, fresh pussy that you will likely never want to leave,” the Governor announced.

Instantly, a woman called out, “One million.”