(Bloody) hell yeah!

As you exited the bathroom, every movement from your heeled feet reminded you of both your predicament, as well as the intruder deep within your ass. You stopped walking a few feet away from the stairs, and reached down to try and dig the plug out. But this wouldn't work of course, considering the multiple layers of clothing on you. Strangely, it almost felt... bad whenever you tried to grasp it through your leggings, and the farther away your hands got from it, the better things felt. Hell, it almost felt good to leave it in there.

You didn't have much time to dwell on it though, because you noticed that things felt sort of tight around your waist. You quite quickly figured out that this outfit must have had some sort of built-in corset, because you were gaining a bit more an hourglass figure. It was slightly difficult to breath, but you could manage. As you continued walking towards the "Vocal Training" room, you felt your waist get just a bit tighter. In all honesty, you didn't really mind. Between your aphrodisiac induced haze, along with a pleasurable buzz deep inside you, you were subconsciously associating the tightness of having a slim waist with pleasure.

As you were guided into what you assumed was the "Vocal Training" room by the the glowing tiles, you took in your surroundings. It looked sort of like those black, soundproof audio rooms you'd see in musical stores. There was a large mirror on one of the walls. As you fully walked in, the door gently closed behind you.

"Alright, Tracer, lets start with our Vocal Training session! We'll begin with some basic phrases, as well as getting you back into the mindset of speaking in your normal accent." Cara says cheerfully.

As Cara attempts to continue speaking, you interrupt her.

"For the last time, I'm not-" Your voice is quickly cut off by a painful zap in your neck. A robotic arm extends towards your face and places a single metal finger against your lips.

"Shhh... Tracer, a good girl knows that she should hold her tongue when someone else is speaking to them." Cara says in a stern, motherly tone. With that, you decide that it might be better to stay quite for now and listen to what she has to say.

The "class" is relatively uneventful. Cara figures out that your "native" British accent is a whole lot rustier than she originally thought. In fact, your voice doesn't even sound all that feminine at all. She decides she'll need to deal with that a bit later. For now though, she'll practice something she knows you'll be good at. Cara instructs you to begin moaning as if you were having sex with a man. You obviously don't oblige at first, but then you feel something. The buttplug from earlier has begun buzzing, and its slowly getting more intense. At first you simply scrunch up your face, hoping it'll end soon. But it doesn't end, it simply keeps building and building until your being held right on the cusp of orgasm, but no matter how hard you try, you just can't cum.

You squish your thighs together in sexual frustration, your caged penis begging to be let out. You begin groping your sensitive body, and slowly little noises begin forcing their way out of your mouth. At first their small, but slowly yet surely they are getting louder. It not long before your moaning like a whore while begging for release, hoping Cara will show mercy. She of course, does not. Your left there moaning, trying something, anything, to cum. But it never happens. And after ten solid minutes of being held on the brink of orgasm, the buzzing slowly winds down and your left there on the rooms floor in a heap of defeated sexual frustration.

Your face hurts, mostly because you were making the stereotypical "aheago" face for the latter part of the ordeal. As Cara slowly helps you back to your feet with her robotic arms, she tells you its time for dinner. As you fully stand up, you look down and notice your contained, fake cleavage looks just a bit large. The corset must have tightened again during your training, since your back was also being **** into a bit of an arch.

You make your way to the dining room, defeated. Your given your four pills like breakfast, and eat them without a second thought so Cara will present you with your food. Your presented with a plate of steamed vegetables and a small amount of grilled chicken breast. You scarf it down along with a cup of tea. In the background, you can hear British lofi hip-hop playing as the sun slowly sets outside your window. It looked rather beautiful, and combined with the music you were actually beginning to relax. You half-expected Cara to suddenly interrupt with some crazy new thing for you to do, but it never came. You turn your chair slightly to get a better view of the large window facing outside. You watch with a small smile as the sun sets a bit below the tree line, leaving a glowing orange as the stars begin to come out. Cara refills your tea, and after a few more sips your slowly fall asleep in your chair, exhausted from the crazy day you've just been through.

Authors Note: Bit of a filler chapter to bring us into the good stuff, which is why its pretty short. As always, please leave your thoughts on how the story is going in the comments! I love feedback and could always use pointers on if my writing is good or bad, as well as suggestions on where to bring the story next. Until we meet again!