The Chair [Judge Hershey, Facesitting]

>You made just one mistake, the worst in your life and now your life is over, the Judges are coming for you, you didn't even realize that was illegal, but they won't care, they'll just toss you in an iso-cube for Grud knows how long
>A loud "Freeze Creep " interrupts your worrying before your door explodes
>In hindsight you probably should have obeyed you note a split second after you reflexively turn to run, the second worst mistake in your life
>An instant later a single punch from her and she was VERY much a her you couldn't help but notice from that single terrifyingly ...exciting glimpse sends you head over heels sprawled on the ground
>Dazed from the first blow, it seems like you just blinked and suddenly she's on you, pinning you down in an awkward and rather painful position
>And once again panic wins and you make your third worst mistake, you struggle
>You hear something about resisting arrest as she shifts around and manhandles you into an easier to handle position
>You THINK she's restraining your limbs but you're not sure, too distracted by how she seems to be pressing her full weight on your head now, forcing you to struggle to breath, unable to see anything but a real up close view of her uniform as she keeps your head pinned under some oddly soft part of her body
>Stars dance in the darkness at the edge of your vision as the lack of air sends your mind into a haze, maybe you should have begged for a single breath, maybe you should have just saved your breath, you had precious little of it after all
>Instead you begged not to be thrown in the cubes, for all the good it would do you
>All you hear is a muffled "No, I think thirty years in the chair will do you better" before you pass out
>The first thing you see when you wake up is a ceiling, ...rather nicer than you were expecting for an iso-cube
>Panic sets in once more as you quickly find you can't move
>Not tied down can't move, literally can't move
>Can't talk
>Can't even scream
>All you can do is look side to side
>Calming down you try to glance around and take stock of your surroundings
>There's not much you can see save a ...table? that seems to be in front of you
>All you can do is wait, and wait, and wait
>Eventually a single sound breaks the monotony, that of a door opening, before the thump of thick, heavy boots gets closer and closer to your position
>It's the same Judge
>She HAD to have seen you, stopping a few inches from where you lie before turning and facing the desk(?), but she shows no sign of it, not even a glance down in your direction.
>You're ...not supposed to think these thoughts about a judge, that's very much against the law you're pretty sure, but it's really REALLY hard when you're just a few inches from her, staring up at her muscular thighs and thick ass, both clad in that skin-tight judges uniform
>Said ass promptly slams into you, far quicker and more painful than you'd like and a a familiar, suffocating weight engulfs your world once more as you once more struggle for breath
>...But, you don't need to it seems, your lungs burn from lack of air but you never pass out
>Instead you remain under there, for what must be hours, perfectly awake, unable to see or hear anything, until the heavy weight of her muscular and curvy frame pressing down on you, the feeling of her body rubbing up against you with every minute shift, each tiny gasps of air filled with her scent, and the heat radiating from her body become your entire world
>And then she leaves, fresh scentless air fills your lungs, and you're staring at the blank featureless ceiling once more
>For what seems like days
>Never getting hungry
>Never getting tired
>Feeling nothing
>Until she returns
>And once more you get to enjoy the sight of her ass for a moment before it smothers you and the cycle continues
>You eventually piece together what's happening
>Your in her office obviously, her chair to be specific and it has some system that keeps you from needing to eat, sleep, breath, or really much of anything
>And more importantly unable to do anything but be the perfect seat for those fleeting moments she needs to be in her office
>And you'll be like this for 30 years
>And there's no way to track how long you've been or how long you have left
>And never once will she look at you, talk to you, or even acknowledge you exist in any way
>And longer you stay here the more you can't help but desperately wish she spent more time in her office