The power of patience

"Loose, you really are a dumbass," Ms. Nyra Locc told her assistant while typing. "You're going to be cleaning the floor with your tongue again. Then I think you'll sleep outside. I have to re-type most of these forms."

A weak whimper was all she heard from the naked woman between her legs. Ms. Locc knew the invoices were fine and, being the busy woman she was, had started blindly approving them several months back, but if she told Loose that, she might have to pay the intern in more than food and a place to stay. The typing her clueless assistant heard was actually Ms. Locc posting on Spacebook. She was telling how the incompetent assistant had only bought one ticket for the up coming fashion show. Loose was far to common for such an event but the snobby socialite was going to want someone to flaunt her wealth in front of and to take out any frustrations on. Loose's ass and thighs still bore the faint red lines from the caning she received when her boss discovered the mistake.

Such discipline and most of Ms. Loccs other demands were illegal, but so was slipping her an aphrodisiac and using the recorded activities as ****. On a whim, the cruel executive brought up the most recent recording of the slender redhead's dress being torn off as she eagerly tried to fit as many cocks and dildos as possible inside her. The memory of Loose cleaning up after the event in that ripped dress with strings of cum dangling from her wavy hair still brought a smile to the executive's tanned face; the poor bitch had acted so defeated and downtrodden. Were the situations reversed, the powerful executive would have immediately gotten ****, but that's one of the many differences between her and the scum kneeling at her feet. Loose had simply waited hand and foot on her new mistress. But what could she do; it's not like she could have gone to the police anyway.

Ms. Locc was experienced at bending and breaking the law. She didn't have the patience to learn mundane details, but her lawyers were the best. The law offered little threat to a person of her wealth. There may be other places in the federation that gave power to the undeserving, but here on Dameron V, things were done right. And Ms. Locc always got her way.

The spoiled socialite snapped her fingers. The dildo slurping in her pussy wasn't working for her this morning (another thing to punish her assistant for). Loose slid the gag out of her employer's pussy and looked up for the next command.

"Get back to being my foot rest," said Ms. Locc in a tone like she was explaining the obvious, "and think of a suitable punishment for failing to get me off."

She raised her feet until the girl scrambled underneath them, the double-ended dildo gag between her lips flopping unpredictably. Ms. Locc returned to authorizing the merchandising forms. At this rate, she would be finished the office work soon and have the rest of the day free.

The front door buzzed. She ignored it. Her hair and make-up were done (having her bangs parted properly was important, even for lounging at home) but she was only in her robe. Moreover, her olive skin still had shiny flecks of nutrients yet to be absorbed from her morning bath; best not to answer the door glittering like a stripper. Whoever it was they could come back later.

The door buzzed again a little more persistent this time. Whoever this was had no patience.

Then there was a pop and the sound of the door swinging up. In a huff the bitchy-boss rose to her feet and stomped down the hall ready to put this overeager delivery boy in his place.

She just about crashed into the heavily police drone. "Ms. Nyra Locc?" asked the armored officer behind the mechanical menace.

"That's me officer. There's no emergency." she smiled back. He had a a square jaw and strikingly eyes that matched his uniform. "Did you break down my door? I think you'll have to make that up to me."

"Ma'am," he stated professionally, "you did not show for your court appointment. We are here to collect you."

At this moment, Loose peaked around the corner, covering her nudity. "Why didn't you tell me I had a court appointment today?"

Loose mumbled something into her gag. Ms. Locc thought she saw the hint of sass in her eye.

Furious, Ms. Locc yelled "get that thing out of your mouth pervert. Why aren't you dressed?" The scared intern scampered off and her boss turned to the police officer. "I am very sorry for my assistant's incompetence and unprofessional attitude. She will learn eventually, probably." He stared back at her silent. "It will only take me half an hour to pick out an outfit."

She turned to walk away but felt a hand grab her arm, then a band slapped around her wrist. Before she knew what was happening, her hands were secured behind her back in magnetic cuffs. "How dare you!" she screamed.

"Your current clothing is acceptable," the officer informed her.

Nyra looked down. The thin robe didn't make it to mid thigh, and she wore nothing underneath. She protested, but hands on her shoulders firmly escorted her out. The officers only paused for a few moments to allow Nyra to slip on a pair of high-heeled sandals.

"Humph," Nyra haughtily sighed to herself as the shabbily dressed reporter squatting near her. "I guess they let anyone into the court these days," the arrogant woman added.

"Huh?" responded the confused reporter.

"Your outfit is last years style." Nyra explained, glad for someone to belittle. It was hard to feel superior to the growing crowd as she shifted atop the hovering stool in only her silk robe, but a women of her stature somehow managed it. "You know I make more in day than you spent on that outfit."

"Yeah probably, but my panties cover more than your robe. Oops a nipple's peaking out," the reporter added while directing her drone to record the blushing executive.

In a panic, Ms. Locc looked down. The thin robe was open far wider than she liked and showed an excessive view of her healthy cleavage, but her nipples were still hidden. She was very relieved; nip slipping for these riff raff that had piled in when they saw her limited outfit was just about the only way this day could get any worse. While she had payed good money for her perfect form, she'd be damned if these miscreants got a show for free.

To make matters worse, the guards had left her wrists cuffed and locked them to her floating seat. The officers had said forgetting about this silly exercise had classified her as a flight risk and refused to remove her handcuffs. This pulled her shoulders and arched her back.

The crowd looked down on her physically too. Even though the hovering stool has her feet dangling more than a foot above the cheap carpet, the court rooms sloping bleachers surrounding Ms. Locc had many of sneering upstarts above the encircled aristocrat.

And every attempt to remind these peasants of her status had been met with mockery. The cycle of slowly rebuilding her dignity only to have it shattered away had repeated itself several times. Being told how sexily she presented her wiggling tits or that there was more lingerie she could shake her ass in for them was not how Nyra had wanted to spend her morning. For a small condolence, the micro crystals of her nutrient bath had faded, so they stopped calling her the shiny skank.

Ms. Locc looked up at the commoners. The wretches would like nothing more than to see her bare tits. These people had nothing better to do than gawk at their betters; they had shown up to this ridiculous court hearing after all. Atop her perch, the prim aristocrat knew she would only get a token punishment. It's not like she defrauded anyone important, just poor people.

If only the judge would get his lazy ass over here... Ms. Locc obviously wanted to get this nonsense wrapped up as quickly as possible, but the oaf had wandered off to attend to other matters on his docket before she arrived. The wealthy woman had been waiting for at least an hour and could have been mostly dressed by now. Ms. Locc fully intended to fill out a complaint; or rather have Loose fill it out and sign it herself. Be it abandoning quality restaurants or walking away from lucrative business deals, Ms. Locc burned bridges with anyone that wasted her time.

"Glad you could join us," the judge, a blubberous Trikod, chided when he eventually waddled out of his chambers. "And that you decided to copy my fashion choice," he added while adjusting his court dress. The crowd of simpletons guffawed at his dumb joke. This particular judge was one of their favorites and thus not one of Nyra's. Glowering at him atop her sentencing stool, she shifted to try and close her robe more. "Now councillor," the judge addressed the lawyer sitting to Nyra's right, "if I recall, you had requested special sentencing last we spoke."

"Yes, your honor. I have an evaluation from Dr. Smith stating that my client faces psychological risks from traditional sentencing. Under article 13 of the Gamma code she cannot be placed in general population." He was trying not to smile at his own brilliance. "The doctor strongly recommended Red Beach Correctional Resort."

"Indeed, it is common to send wealthy criminals there," agreed the judge. "Unfortunately, the resort is currently under investigation for corruption and is not accepting new inmates. Black Rock is the only available option."

"Your honor, my client must be separated from those criminals."

"It appears we agree councillor. I have selected your client for an experimental rehabilitation program."

The judge proceeded to provide mundane details about the legality of the punishment and the statutes that gave him authority to choose it. Ms. Locc payed little attention she was distracted by the arrival of her assistant. The young slut from a nobody family silently entered the courtroom looking far too much like an intelligent business woman. Worse yet the socially inept gutter trash was wearing her boss's clothes, a crimson dress and blazer to be precise. Sure a tight, nipple-less t-shirt with the word slut in bright letters across its front was the most conservative scrap of cloth in the intern's limited wardrobe, but that didn't give the cunt the right to steal from her boss.

"... The overseer of which, a Dr. Jayne, is currently seeing to other duties but will be arriving soon to collect your client."

"Collect my client!? your honor, after making reparation payments my client still has considerable assets. She will need time to choose a manager. The law requires a sentencing be delayed for up to three years to do so."

"You would be correct councillor, but your client has already selected a manager earlier this week."

The overpaid stuffed shirt turned to glare at Ms. Locc as all his plans crumbled. The proud woman simple spat back "I did no such thing. You're clearly mistaken."

"No mistake Ms. Locc. You named Miss Patience as your wealth manager."

"Who the fuck is that even?" The flippant socialite was still in denial about her predicament.

"Miss Lucy Patience, your personal assistant. If you want to choose someone else, you will have to try to find time file the transfer paperwork during your sentence."

Ms. Locc turned to glare at Loose. Had her near useless assistant fucked this up too? How stupid would she have to be not only accidentally fill out a form but also put herself in charge, or had the dumb cunt actually planned to take the burden of the Locc family fortune; either way the useless tart was due for several hours of punishment tonight. As the enraged woman's vision snapped back to the judge, she boiled over. "Alright you incompetent, over-sized, bag of--"

"That's quite enough." Beyond furious Nyra turned to glare at the woman that had interrupted her. A brisk breeze lingered around Dr. Jayne as she strode into the courtroom. Her teal power-suit showed a graceful slice of cleavage in the most recent style. In fact, everything from her navy heels to the feathered choppiness of her pixie cut was of the latest fashion. The doctor had an assistant, a meek Oo'lick in a simple, basil-colored, tube-dress that accessorized perfectly with a collar around her neck. The tight fabric cleaned to the alien's graceful form and no doubt restricted her movement severely, but it is a small price to pay to have ones figure highlighted so perfectly. Nyra calmed down somewhat, realizing at least this woman was of her caste. Dr. Jayne, however, kept her firm tone. "I will not have my charges making such outbursts. Or exposing themselves without permission."