Stilletos?

Handler illuminates your room as she walks in, but all you can do is stare at her feet. Gone are her signature knee-high leather boots that you painstakingly maintain. From that faithful day when she lifted the weight of being a hero from your shoulders, like Perseus freeing Atlas, you have never seen her in anything but her beautiful boots.

So why is She in stilettos? She said you deserve a special gift for your recent battle, but you thought She meant you could please yourself with Her boot in private. Away from the sacrilegious eyes of the other pilots who will never know the pure pleasure of Her leather.

"Strip," She says with a smug knowing grin, as She looks at your confused face. "Did you not believe me when I said I have a gift for you?"

"N..NO, Never!" You shout as you assert your faith in the infallible word of your Goddess. "Sir," you amend as you your brain balances your words and the now instinctual process of removing your flight suit and undergarments.

"You did well today my hound. I have a very special gift for you. Now kneel and open your mouth."

You responded immediately. Knees slamming to the ground, tongue out, head tilted up, so She can easily drop a small pill in your mouth.

She steps back and admires your instant obedience. After admiring her work She says, "Swallow"

Your throat itches as you dry swallow the pill. You don't spare a second to question what you consumed.

As it hits your stomach the effect is instant you feel warmth spread through your body and concentrate on your grown. You know what this is, you feel a treacherous moment of panic, as your fear battles your conditioning. This is imperial medicine; it turns you into a living sex machine. You hate when the other pilots force it upon you before you service them. Before the bliss of a order followed soothes your thoughts you catch yourself wondering, could She be the gift‽

"On your back."

As you comply with Her order your mind races. Is this real? Is She really doing this? Are the Stilettos to help her ride you?

No, it can't be. She would never fuck a dog like you. She would never stoop so low as...

Your thoughts still as she pulls a bottle of lube from leather cape. You close your eyes and let yourself dare to imagine that she may really be about to use you. You try to square the circle of what's happening as you feel the ice-cold lube drip onto your now hot and throbbing womanhood. Perhaps She does not see this as sex? You stay still. Perhaps if you do not react, She will see you as an object, a mere living dildo. Afterall, even your Handler has urges, right? It would be below her to use a mere sex toy, hard and impliable, cold and soulless. She deserves more. Yes, that's it. You are dog, but you're also an object, a living dildo for her pleasure. You keep your eyes closed, waiting, not daring gaze upon her fair ivory skin.

"Are you ready for your present?"

You let out a whimper and frantically nod your head in the affirmative. You feel Her on your tip. Strange... She feels hard? She feels...

Your eyes fly open as you feel something go INTO your cock. You let out a whine as you feel a slight burn, mixed with the absolute pleasure of the Empires drugs mixed with Her absolute attention.