Surrender, Part 3

by All These Roadworks

Tags: #cw:noncon #dom:male #f/m #humiliation #hypno #office #sub:female #degradation #demotion_fetish #exec2sec

Surrender, Part 3
Story by All These Roadworks (2022).
If you enjoy this story, check out my creator site for e-books and memberships.
When Sarah came back to work the following day, she looked tired. 
Lachlan was delighted.  Torturing Sarah with her new hypnotic conditioning was fun - but it was much more fun when he could see visual evidence of her misery.
He caught her gaze as she walked to her office, and she blushed and looked away.
Nobody else knew that she had driven home last night in her new bubblegum-pink “bimbo” car.  No one else knew that she was using her collection of feminist literature as toilet paper now.  No one else knew that upon arriving home she had been driven to seek out rape porn on the internet and spend an hour staring at it helplessly.  Lachlan wondered if she had masturbated to it.  He hoped she had.
But Lachlan knew what Sarah was suffering - even if he couldn’t yet watch all of her humiliation in person.  He knew, and it made him happy.
He followed her to her office, and confiscated her car keys, so that his people could finish their modifications to her car.  She had no choice but to hand the keys over, having surrendered her control over her transport options.
“What are these modifications, Lachlan?” she asked nervously.  “I don’t need any changes.  The car works fine.”
“Shush, kitten” said Lachlan, and patted her on the head as if she were a child.  He gave her no further answer.
“Oh, Lachlan,” Sarah said, as Lachlan turned to leave.  “I was going to go out with some friends tonight.”
He looked at her.  She blushed.
“Are you inviting me?” he asked.
“No!” she blurted.  “It’s just… I have to… “
He waited for her to say it.  There was a silence.  Eventually, Sarah finished her sentence.
“I have to ask your permission,” she said, blushing.  “To go out.  And to use the car.”
“Who are these friends, kitten?” asked Lachlan.  He enjoyed watching her flush with rage every time he called her ‘kitten’.
“Daisy from Accounting,” said Sarah.  “And my sister Ellie.  And Jayna, who I’ve known since school.”
Lachlan knew Daisy.  She was pretty.  In fact, she was eminently fuckable, in Lachlan’s opinion.
“And where are you meeting them?” he asked her.
Sarah clearly hated this prying into her life.  “At a nightclub,” she said, through gritted teeth.  “The Star Garden.  Near the theatre.”
Lachlan nodded.  “All right,” he said.  “You can go out with your friends - as long as you’re a good girl.  No drugs, and I expect you home by midnight.”
If Sarah had possessed the ability to strike people dead with a glare, Lachlan would surely have died on the spot.  The phrasing - deliberately calculated to imply that Sarah was nothing but a child under Lachlan’s parentage - left her incandescent with rage.
Lachlan watched her, smiling.  He wanted her to be angry.  He wanted her to explode.  All it would take was a single “fuck you”, here in the office, to a co-worker, and she would be surrendering another aspect of her identity to him.
There was nothing.  She swallowed her rage, even though she was practically vibrating in her chair.  “Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with fury.
“You’re welcome, kitten,” he said.  “And you’ll be driving your car there and back, so don’t get too drunk to drive, okay?”
Sarah worked through the day.  Lachlan watched her like a hawk, but he saw nothing that he could claim was a breach of the public service code.  She was working on a major new policy for vulnerable teen girls, and she kept her head down and focused on it.
At the end of the day, Lachlan met her in the garage, and showed her the final modifications to her pretty new pink car.
Sarah was aghast.  “What is this?” she demanded.  “It’s obscene.”
She was referring to a large, thick, latex dildo, which was installed in the middle of the driver’s seat, jutting lewdly upwards.
“Isn’t it neat?” smiled Lachlan.  “It’s a little added security protection.  The car won’t start - won’t run at all, in fact - unless it’s in your pussy.  And the vibration of the engine will make it buzz a little while the car is running, which should be fun for you.”
“I’m not…” - she struggled for words - “sitting on that thing!  It’s gross!”
“Are you going to sleep here at the office, then, kitten?” asked Lachlan.  “Because if I recall correctly, you can’t travel anywhere without me giving you permission, and I’m only letting you use this car if you ride the dildo like a good girl.”
“I can’t drive with that thing inside me!” she protested.
“I think you’ll find you can,” said Lachlan.  “But if you can’t, we can make you a nice little bed in the corner of your office, and you can shower in the bathrooms, I suppose…”
She looked at him, mutely pleading for him to relent, to confess that this was a joke.
He had no such confession to make.  He just looked at her.
“Fine,” she said.  “Fine.”  She clearly wanted to add, “I hate you,” but remembered what had happened after her last outburst.
She looked at him.  He looked back.
“I’ll sit on it, okay?” she said.  “You can go now.”
“No, I want to check that it works,” he said.  “Go on, start the car.”
“I’m *not* doing it in front of you!” said Sarah.
“Then I guess you’re not going anywhere,” replied Lachlan calmly.
There was another standoff, which ended the only way it could - with Sarah submitting.
Blushing bright red, she reached under her skirt, presumably moving her panties to one side of her cunt.  Then she got into the car.  The dildo vanished under the hem of her skirt, but he could tell by her gasp, and the mortified look on her face, that the tip had made contact with her pussy.  Then she moaned a little, and slid slowly downwards, until her ass was flush with the seat.
The dildo was completely buried in her cunt.
“Good girl,” said Lachlan.  “Now start the car.”
Sarah started the engine - and immediately the car’s sound system came on, and began to play back recorded speech.
“Women,” said the voice, “are nothing but a pair of tits and a cunt.  Their purpose is to receive sperm and turn it into babies.”
Sarah’s eyes widened in horror, and she tried to turn it off, or turn it down.  But none of the controls on the dashboard responded to her, and she couldn’t silence the voice.
“What is this?” she demanded.  “It’s horrible.  Turn it off!”
“It’s the ‘Modern Misogyny’ podcast,” said Lachlan.  “It’s a series of hour-long discussions on how women are stupid animals who deserve to be raped.  There’s nearly a hundred episodes of it, and if it gets to the end of the queue, it will start again at the beginning.”
“Why?” asked Sarah.  And demanded again, “Turn it off!”
“It can’t be turned off or down while the engine is running,” said Lachlan.  “Just a little something for you to listen to while you drive.  I thought seeing as how you’ve lost interest in feminist literature, and taken up a new interest in painting degradation porn, you might enjoy listening to people discuss the role of women as cum-dumpsters.”
“I’m the Secretary of the Department of Women!” hissed Sarah.  “I can’t be caught listening to this!”
“Then I suggest you not be caught,” smiled Lachlan.  “Have a nice drive, kitten.  And enjoy your night out.”
Lachlan wasn’t expecting to see Sarah again until the next morning, and went to bed at a little after 10 pm.  But he was woken near to midnight by his phone ringing, and to his surprise, it was Sarah.
“Hello, kitten?” he said.  “What’s the matter?”
“My car-sh shtuck,” came a slurred voice from the other end of the phone.  “Won’t go.”
“Kitten?” he asked.  “Is that you?  Are you drunk?”
“Yesh,” said Sarah.  And then she giggled, a silly, stupid sound.
“I thought I told you not to get drunk,” he said.  He wasn’t angry.  In fact, he was a little scared.  Whatever was happening hadn’t been part of the plan.
“You can’t tell me whash to drink,” slurred Sarah.  “Didn’t shurrender that.  Had *lotsh* of drinksh.  To help me forget being embarrassed.  But then I had to come home by midnight, and I had to drive my car.”  She giggled again.  “Didn’t get very far.  Whoopsie.”
“What do you mean?” he said.  “Have you crashed?”
“Jush drove off the road a bit,” said Sarah.  “Probably shouldn’t drive anymore.  But I can’t get a taxi without your permission.  Can’t even walk home.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Tell me where you are,” he said, finally.  “I’ll come and get you.”
She had told the truth.  She had driven her car off a small embankment, and it had rolled down into a ditch off the road.  There appeared to be no damage to the car, and thankfully none to Sarah either.
She had sobered a bit by the time Lachlan arrived, but she was still sitting in the car, with the dildo in her pussy.  The engine had been turned off and the sound system was silent.
He looked at her through the car window.  “You really are a stupid slut, you know that, kitten?”
“This is your fault,” she said - and the slur was mostly gone now.  “Your stupid rules.  They forced me to drive drunk.  I could have been killed.  And now I can’t even get out of the car without your permission, because I haven’t reached somewhere that I had permission to go to.”
She was furious - but she had chosen her words carefully.  They weren’t an insult or a disrespect - and anyway, they weren’t at the office.
But he didn’t intend to let her get away with such rebellion unpunished.
“Give me your skirt,” he told her.
“What?” she exclaimed.  “No!”
“Give me your skirt,” he repeated, “or else I will leave you here all night.  And remove your permission to drive home in the morning.  And you will *still* need my permission to get off that dildo or go anywhere.”
She glared at him again.  “You know I hate you, right?” she said.
“I know,” he said.  “It makes this much more fun.  Give me your skirt.”
She had no choices.  She uninched her skirt - blushing bright red - and removed it.  He could now see her red cotton underwear - which she had pushed to the side to allow the dildo to fit inside her.  
Lachlan had to admit that her cunt looked gorgeous with the fat latex dildo stuffed into it.  
He took the skirt from her and stuffed it into a pocket.  Then he got out his phone and took a picture of her, half-undressed and with the dildo in her cunt.  She winced as she saw him take the photo, and drunkenly tried to shield her face, not thinking to also shield her pussy.
He pushed her arms away and took another photo.  He wanted her to be identifiable.
“Good girl,” he told her, once he was satisfied with the image.  “Now get up and come over to my car.”
It was fun to watch her rise off the dildo, with the thick phallus sliding out of her pussy.  Once it had popped out completely, he directed her to a packet of wipes he had left in the glove compartment, and had her wipe the dildo clean of her slut juices.  He would have preferred to have her clean it with her tongue, but there would be time for that on other days.
Once it was clean, Sarah scampered across to his car and climbed into the passenger seat.
“Did you at least have fun tonight, up until it was time to drive?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she said, avoiding eye contact.
And they were silent on the rest of the drive home.
When they reached her house, he was tempted to invite himself in, but it was late and he was tired, and his “Sarah reeducation program” should be a marathon, not a sprint.  
Instead, he merely said, “Remember to watch your rape porn before bed.  And you have permission to catch a taxi back to your car in the morning, and then drive the car to work.”
“Thank you,” said Sarah dully.  She was tired, too - and still inebriated.  She got out of the car, and Lachlan watched to make sure she got inside her house, before driving back to the warmth of his own bed.
When Sarah got to work the next day, Lachlan was waiting for her in her office.
“You’re late,” he told her.
And she was.  More than an hour late.  It had been past one AM by the time she finished watching her rape porn and went to bed, and then she had overslept the next morning. Already late, she had then been forced to wait for a taxi to take her to retrieve her car.
“I’m sorry,” she said.  And her voice was scared, because she knew what was coming.
“Serious lateness without excuse is a breach of the code of conduct, Sarah,” smiled Lachlan.  “So why don’t we talk about what you’ll be surrendering next?”

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