#governor ferguson

[inlovewithgreta]

could you do more governor!Joan and prisoner!reader? maybe some angst or more smut? I love your fics :)

Here's more Governor Joan and Prisoner reader just for you!! Thank you for the request as always, and thank you for loving the fics!! xo

Jealousy - Governor!Joan Ferguson x Prisoner!Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Summary: Joan does not take you being near Franky Doyle lightly.

Warnings: degradation, semi-public sex, oral sex (r!receiving), once again not proofread in the slightest..

Word Count: 1.8k

Taglist: @celasteria @shslbunnylover @bellatrixsbrat @coffeebreath23 @janewaykove

© Do not copy, repost, or modify any of my works.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were confused as to why Vera had ushered you to the Governor's office so soon after you were just outside in the yard. The authoritative figure only called you in if she needed information, but nothing out of the ordinary had happened in which information would need to be given.

Your stomach churned when after a few hasty knocks, Vera announced your presence before the Governor herself sent the deputy off for the rest of the night.

Hands fidgeted in front of you as you stood behind the now closed door, unmoved. Big, brown eyes were watching you like a hawk as the older woman stood tall next to her desk.

"Come here," she demanded, arms folded over her chest.

She looked slightly annoyed, and to your knowledge, you hadn't done anything wrong or withheld vital information from her. Yet you still did as you were told, and walked until you were mere inches from her, eyes cast down in obedience.

A surprised gasp came from you when Joan grabbed a fistful of your shirt and pulled you flush against her body. Your hands involuntarily grasped at her hips to steady yourself as you finally locked eyes with the woman.

You took her all in, hair slightly disheveled as if her fingers were running through it constantly, ruining her usually perfect bun. Her eyebrows were knitted together, and her lips were formed into a small frown.

Those who didn't know her, would just assume she was acting her usual self. But you...well, you knew her more intimately, and knew something was clearly bothering her.

"What have I told you about Franky Doyle?" She asked, finally speaking out.

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion, not expecting her to bring up the brunette. "I— what?" You shook your head.

"Do not play dumb with me, slut. Answer my question. And answer it now." Her grip on your shirt merely tightened, and you knew moving would be impossible with her deathly grip.

"You told me to stay away from her..." you answered after a moment, recalling her previous words.

She had not asked you, but demanded you to stay away from her, knowing you were just Franky's type and not wanting the woman to lay her hands on you.

After all, Joan was never one to share her toys.

"And have you? Been staying away from her?" She knowingly asked, lifting a high brow.

"No, Governor..." you sheepishly lowered your eyes, cheeks growing a deep crimson at your confession.

"Such an attention seeking little whore.." she spat. "I leave for two days and this is what I come back to? You getting all handsy with her?!"

"I'm sorry..." you apologized, looking back at her with big, puppy dog eyes. "I won't do it again, Governor. I promise." Your hands gently stroked her wide hips, in hopes of soothing the woman.

That was a little trick of yours. You had quickly found out that Joan melted at your touch. Your soft, sweet, and tender touches would always ease her stress, and you used it to your advantage.

"Let me make it up to you." Your lashes fluttered as your hands eagerly wandered to her belt buckle.

"Someone's a little impatient," she noted, visibly relaxing as your hands crept under her shirt to touch her bare stomach.

"Can you blame me? Watching you get all hot and bothered with jealousy is kind of hot.." you admitted, digits roaming across her smooth skin. "Besides, I missed you so much these past few days. A girl needs some attention around here."

"Always such a little slut for attention," she growled, taking your lower lip between her teeth and tugging. Joan had no choice but to sink into your smaller figure, finally giving in to her desires.

She needed you just as much as you needed her. And yes, it was wrong. But God, did it feel so good.

Her tongue swept across your bottom lip to soothe her harsh bite as she took full dominance over your lips. Her kiss was demanding, and this time you felt yourself melting into her touch, allowing yourself to hum quietly when her hands groped your breasts.

"But Franky doesn't touch you as well as I do, now does she?" She husked against your lips, and you merely shook your head.

You hastily unbutton her shirt, needing to feel more of her. Joan would normally punish you for actions like this, but knowing how pathetically needy you were for her, she would allow it.

And when a hand found itself shoved into your pants, while the other gripped at the back of your neck, subtle moans fell past your lips as she touched all the right places.

"And she doesn't get the joys of fucking your pretty little pussy, isn't that right, slut?" She nipped at your lower lip once more.

"N-No, Governor!" You whined pathetically against her lips as you arched your back and gripped the cold wood of her desk behind you.

Joan tugged at the fabric of your clothes, only pulling apart for long enough to strip you free and leave you bare in front of her.

"You're mine. Do I make myself clear?" You gasp when Joan lifts you atop her desk, then kneels before you.

Your gaze is settled entirely on her, licking your lips at her unbuttoned shirt that showed off her perfect chest. Her eyes were blown out, and your fingers tugged at her messy hair in deliberation.

"Yes, Governor.. I'm all yours," You watch the movements of her tongue and quiver as she eagerly strokes up and down your folds.

You let out a quiet moan as you watched the woman shoving her face between your legs to devour your pussy like it was your last meal.

"Just like that, Gov. Taste me. Touch me."

You buck your hips as her tongue explores every inch of your cunt. Joan couldn't stay mad, not with you. You were her kryptonite. Her weakness. And she never thought she'd see the day where she would have any.

Just as Joan was to pay attention to your aching clit, the lights suddenly went out. You gasped at not only being surrounded by darkness, but the fact that Joan didn't stop.

Her movements only increased as she lapped at every inch of your pussy, licking a strip up your folds to then suck at your clit.

"G-Gov, the lights!" You moaned, but still didn't dare to move.

Joan chuckled between your thighs. The vibrations went straight to your core, forcing your back to arch as you threw a leg over her shoulder.

"And just like that, my little slut. Nobody will bother us for the rest of the night." You felt her smirk.

Even as the darkness enveloped both of you, Joan didn't let that stop her from finishing what she had planned to do to you. It was exactly what she was waiting for.

With everyone gone for the night, she now had a renewed determination to fuck you senseless. As a whine fell past your lips from her tongue leaving your cunt, Joan began to leave a fiery line of kisses on your thigh.

She was teasing you. Wanting to take her time with you.

You were sure your arousal was dripping down onto her wooden desk for you to clean up after, knowing Joan always made you clean up after yourself.

You let yourself relax as she explored your lower half, bracing your palms flat against the mahogany behind you.

"Fuck, you're so hot," you moaned out as Joan licked a strip up your core once more. "Fuck my pussy, Governor. It's all yours."

Her tongue circled your clit and decided now was the time to stop holding herself back. Joan's head dove between your spread thighs once more, using her tongue to ravage your pussy.

With Joan's strong hands holding you still, your head fell back as a string of moans filled the quiet room. The woman was greedy, stroking her tongue long and hard against your cunt. Hips bucked wildly.

"God, you taste so good," she hummed between kitten licks.

Both of you lost track of time as Joan, was working your body, and you were a moaning mess atop her desk. Every stroke of her tongue ignited a fire deep within you, heating you up from the inside out. Beads of sweat formed along your hairline as you chased your climax.

Heavy footsteps snaked you out of your thoughts, head whipping towards the door with wide eyes. You knew Joan had heard it when she sucked harder, only eliciting louder moans from you that you had to cover with a hand over your mouth.

"Be fucking quiet," she seethed, tightening her grip around your thighs so hard that would for sure leave marks in the future.

You jerk to move, but Joan's grip on you was deathly. She was going to finish what she started, no matter the cost.

You're on the edge and Joan can tell by your leg spasms. Your moans were muffled, but still loud, and your heart was thumping in your chest as you watched feet pass under the door, luckily not stopping.

As much as you knew you should've stopped, the thrill of them walking in sent you completely over the edge. Your body rocked into Joan's as you couldn't hold back anymore.

"Fuck!" You whined into your hands, legs merely closing in on Joan's head as she didn't let up on her tongue.

Taking your lower lip in your teeth, Joan ate your pussy through your orgasm as you came along her tongue. Hard.

You barely managed to hold back your cry as you shuddered. Body clenching over and over again as Joan swallowed every bit of come that came leaking out of your pussy.

Your body sagged against the desk, completely spent from your climax, and Joan hummed in approval before wiping her glistening chin with the back of her hand.

"Fucking janitors..." she mumbled, "Remind me to fire them for staying so late."

You hummed, and Joan couldn't help but let her lips twitch into a smirk as she finally took in your state.

Your legs were shaking, breathing was heavy, and sweat trickled down your forehead as you leaned against her wooden desk.

"What's so funny?" You asked, as Joan stood up and wrapped her arms around you.

"The fact that I know Franky could never fuck you like I do," she hovered over your lips.

You couldn't help but to playfully roll your eyes at her words. "Still on about Franky, huh?" You teased. "Jealous over little old me? I'm flattered," you smiled, pulling the woman in to a deep, lustrous kiss.

"Don't get cocky," she said, pulling your hair back and eliciting a sinful moan from you. "Now hurry up and get dressed, you still have a cell to get back to."

You heavily sighed, hopping off the desk, and surprisingly not falling on your face thanks to Joan's firm grip on your hip to keep you standing.

"What about you? It's my turn to take care of you," you asked, quickly pulling your clothes back on your body.

"I can take care of myself," she smirked, knowing the image she just put in your head at your dramatic groan.

You crossed your arms and stood rather impatiently at her door as she quickly fixed herself up in her mirror, the smirk not leaving her face at your dramatics.

Joan was nothing but a tease and a jealous woman, but she was loyal. And you knew she would wait however long it took for you to get out so she could take you wherever she pleased.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

general masterlist | pamela masterlist | taglist

[marykk1990]

I'm still hoping I wake up to a blue shift, fingers crossed, but at least I can go to bed knowing that the Washington State governorship was won by Democrat Bob Ferguson.

[harriswalz4usabybr]

Saturday, October 12, 2024 - Kamala Harris

Today Vice President Harris and the surrogates headed west to Missouri and Kansas. Throughout the day they met up with some additional individuals, including Kansas City Chiefs player Travis Kelce and US Congressional Candidate Esau Freeman. The 'official' schedule is below.

Ferguson, MO Event Location: Elicious Souther Style Breakfast and Brunch Event Type: Breakfast and Door Knocking/Canvasing Event Time: 8:00 - 10:00 CT *The Vice President and surrogates had breakfast at a local business, before heading out into local Ferguson neighborhoods to door knock and canvas on-behalf of the Harris Walz ticket, "Yes" on Missouri Prop A, and Wesley Bell.

Kansas City, MO Event Location: Kansas City Union Station Event Type: Memorial Ceremony Event Time: 14:00 - 16:00 CT *The campaign driving on the way to Wichita, believed it was important to hold a press briefing about gun control in Kansas City at the site of the 2024 Super Bowl Parade Shooting. Before taking press questions, there was a small memorial service where Vice President Harris and Kansas City Chiefs player Travis Kelce laid a wreath on the west side of union station where the shooting took place. After this the VP took questions concerning gun control. Travis Kelce also traveled with the campaign to the campaign rally in Wichita tonight, where he would introduce Governor Laura Kelly.

Wichita, KS Event Location: Interest Bank Arena Event Type: Campaign Rally Event Time: 14:00 - 16:00 CT *The campaign in Wichita had a major surprise, which was that Taylor Swift would be joining the campaign to play some songs for the rally between speeches from various surrogates and candidates. Speeches were made by Governor Kelly, Congressional Candidate Esau Freeman, Former VP Al Gore, and VP Kamala Harris. Full-text of each speech will be released shortly joined by the setlist played by Taylor Swift.

~BR~

[error-404-fuck-not-found]

Hey so remember how grocery prices suddenly jackknifed during lockdown and never went back down?

Well turns out the companies would have done that shit either way and had been steadily price-fixing for the last decade!

Washington State Attorney General Bob Ferguson just announced more than $40 million in court-ordained Fuck You money from massive swaths of food production companies are to be paid out to households earning at or below 175% of the federal poverty level ($25.5k for 1 person, $34.5k for 2 people households) before Dec 31st of this year. Happy Holidays.

"The bottom line here is that my legal team took on two large corporate price-fixing conspiracies that increased the cost for groceries for Washington families. We've prevailed, and as a result, we are sending checks to over 400,000 Washington households."

Cannot stress enough the extent of the conspiracies he's talking about here. 15 out of the total 19 chicken producers got nailed in this lawsuit. Not the total number of conspirators, mind, just the ones who left enough evidence for the AG to kick their ass in so expedient a manner. Make no mistake, all 19 were in on it. The court case against the rest of them has been delayed until October of next year, though. None of them are making it out unscathed.

Tuna didn't escape antitrust horseshit either, because the CEOs of Starkist, Chicken of the Sea, and Bumblebee Tuna had a fucking group chat where they complained that the price of tuna was "too low" and they agreed to artificially inflate the price.

“What’s so maddening about the conduct of these companies is the reason that they engaged in this price-fixing conspiracy was greed. They wanted to make money."

So anyway the AG who nailed their asses to the wall and continues to do so is running for governor. If you live in Washington, could be worth your vote when primary season rolls around.

[itslacroixsweetiedarling]

i will never be over joan ferguson

[secretsofthewilde]

When you're older, maybe entering high school, Aunt Franky seems to be a bit more open to answering some of your questions about her life inside Wentworth, but she refuses to tell you much about your mum's experience there. You know she was good at her job, and treated the women fairly, "unlike the previous Governor - that fucking freak." But when you asked who said governor was, Franky just awkwardly suggests you ask your mum later.

You also grow up assuming your mum's anxious hovering and fear of kidnappings are a by-product of her past working with felons, until one day someone let's it slip that when you were a baby a prisoner at Wentworth actually planned to kidnap you and flee the country. Imagine finding out that the prisoner in question was that previous governor - your mum's old boss.

Imagine how insane it must be for Vera's daughter to grow up and slowly learn about the events that transpired around her birth and how the people in her family all know each other.

Picture being Grace; you've grown up knowing your mum and dad get along well as friends, but they aren't in love like your Aunties Franky and Bridget are. You know that they all met each other at Wentworth, the prison that your parents had once worked at (which your mum also used to be the boss of apparently). It's only when you're a bit older than they tell you Aunt Franky didn't used to work there - she was a prisoner there (you had actually guessed this was the case a year ago, but were glad they thought you were old enough to stop pretending otherwise).

As the years go by you realize your mum doesn't seem to have many friends that she hasn't met through working at said prison. It would probably concern you, but she seems content to spend her free time with you, your aunts, your dad, and the occasional visit from her old friend Will (apparently he was around a lot during your first years, but has since moved out of town bc of reasons).

You're not surprised to discover your mum's secretly a bit of a bad ass - I mean, she did run a prison after all - but finding out that she gave birth to you during a prison siege was definitely a shock. You think that's got to be the worst memory she has at that place, only to discover a year later that she was inside the prison when a bomb went off, killing several people including an apparent old friend of hers. Yet, for some reason, you still don't quite believe her when she says that was definitely her worst experience had at Wentworth.

[anghraine]

Perhaps the most purely surreal aspect of the election, btw, is that it actually went pretty great in my state (Washington). I don't even mean standard West Coast results. Washington is sapphire this year.

Harris/Walz are running about 20 points ahead of Trump statewide—currently, they're further ahead here than in Oregon or California. They're winning in Whitman County in eastern Washington and came within a few of points of winning Spokane County. Clark County, which is adjacent to the border with Oregon and contains the Portland suburb of Vancouver WA, can be a lot "swingier" than Multnomah County just to the south (which contains Portland) and a ballot box was literally blown up there to screw with the election results. Clark County worked to get new ballots to everyone affected and Harris is not only clearly winning in Clark, but further ahead than Biden in 2020—leading Trump by nearly 10 points iirc.

One of the few politicians I truly like, my beloved governor Jay Inslee, is stepping down, and had endorsed his Democratic AG, Bob Ferguson. Ferguson is easily winning the state, though not leading as much as Harris is, which is a kind of nice change from so many Democrats (including pretty mediocre ones) doing better than her, even though I've liked Ferguson as AG.

I will say that Ferguson was running against what goes for a good Republican candidate these days—a "moderate" with ties to King County (Seattle) who was not the first choice of the vile Washington GOP, but beat out some far-right assholes in the Republican primaries. For part of the campaign, it seemed like Reichert (the Republican candidate) might be "normal" enough and local enough to conceivably eke out a win, but in the event, Ferguson is ahead by double digits.

Our Democratic senator easily held her seat and also ran ahead of Ferguson in counties like Whitman.

Inslee's acknowledgment of Trump's win includes zero congratulations or unity blather, but instead remarks that Washington State sued the first Trump administration 97 times and won 95 of those cases while he was still president, and we will do it again if we have to (these suits were of course driven by AG Ferguson, now our governor-elect).

For the first time in generations, Washington Democrats actually won every statewide elected office—there are nine of them and the margins of the victories vary a lot, but the GOP failed to win even one, and the state government remains a Democratic trifecta as well.

There were four deceptively-worded, Republican-funded, corporate bullshit initiatives on the state ballot this year. Three are already dead in the water. As Governor Inslee put it, "Washingtonians sent an unequivocal message that they want action on pollution and climate change. Washingtonians also made clear they want to preserve the equity of our tax system with the capital gains tax on the super wealthy. When they or a loved one need long-term care, they want the WA Cares Act to be there for them." Yup!

Marie Gluesenkamp Pérez (a current Democrat in the House) is still leading in the Trumpy WA-3 district, which redistricting only made redder than it was before (when her victory was considered one of the biggest House upsets of the year). She's about three points ahead still.

This may sound like bragging about my state and isn't really meant that way. It feels like existing in a weird capsule because we're still very much in the USA and affected by national politics and we have our own right-wing assholes, of course, but so much about the country we live in is decided thousands of miles away from here, in large part by people who don't seem to share even the most basic sense of reality with most people here. It is a very strange experience to feel so estranged from what's happening in so much of the country.

[camillelespanayesbtch]

Haven't I Given Enough? (18+)

Governor!Joan Ferguson x reader

Content Warning: Graphic depictions of violence, blood, inappropriate relationship, sexual assault (?), drugging, emotional/psychological abuse, physical abuse, eventual smut.

Chapter One

You sink your teeth into the man’s neck, biting down as you pull back, tearing a chunk of his flesh and muscle from him. You let go of him, your arms falling to your side as you land on your feet, a bloody grin spreading across your face as you watch him stumble, bringing unsteady hands up to his neck to try and stem the bleeding but it was of little use- he wouldn’t survive. No real loss to anyone, although you’re certain his mother will be the first person to sob about the loss of her precious baby boy. “You should have listened to me when I told you to not fucking touch me. But men always think they’re exempt to a woman’s boundaries.” You give him a firm shove so he falls to the ground, his head hitting the hardwood floor with a sickening crack. You watch as blood starts to pool around him, bright red, fresh, the coppery smell soon hitting your nostrils, “What an excellent trial run for my recent dental procedure, don’t you think?”

You let out a laugh when you hear sirens, turning to look at the rest of the people in the bar, “You’re all fucking cowards. People like you are the reason people like him get away with it.” You gather up most of the blood in your mouth before spitting it onto the floor then bringing your hand up to wipe the excess from your lips. You hold your hands up when the police come in, not struggling against one of them as she brings your hands behind your back, slapping a pair of cuffs around your wrists tightly before he marches you out. You flash a bloody smile at the patrons as they watch you get walked out to the awaiting patrol car.

“Careful boys!” One of the patrons calls out, “She’s a freak!” The cops wave them off, telling them to head back inside for their colleagues to question. The door to the car open and you’re shoved inside, “You try biting us, and I’ll knock your fucking teeth out.”

You laugh, “Why would I? I hate pork,” you spit on the ground before the door slams shut. You sit back and close your eyes as the sirens flick on, a first-class trip to the station, lucky you.

You’re taken out of the holding cell after cuffs have been secured to your hands and feet so you couldn’t struggle as a bite mask is secure around your mouth. You couldn’t lie, the whole thing was rather exhilarating for you, being treated like such a high-risk person- how tantalizing. This was likely to try and reduce any temptation you may have to bite somebody, but you didn’t have that, not yet anyway. You smile at the officer, your mouth still visible through the clear cover, “This won’t do you much good, but I suppose if it’s of comfort to you then that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”  You chuckle and get into the back of the transportation vehicle, leaning against the interior of it once seated before turning to look at the other woman traveling with you, “Oh don’t look so frightened, if you’re not a rapist or a kiddy diddler, we’ll get on just fine.”

“I’m not scared of a freak like you. There’s far worse walking around the shit-hole we’re going to than you,” she replies, looking you up and down. “You won’t last a minute in there. Just because you got those fancy teeth doesn’t mean you’ll be able to do shit to stop anything.” She leans in to touch you, to prove that she could get to you, but when you move the smallest amount, the sound of the cuffs jangling startles her and she sits back, her face going pale. For someone who isn’t afraid of you, she sure is startled by the slightest of things. Maybe she took one too many pingers and it made her permanently jumpy.

“Looks like you’re the one who isn’t going to last very long in there. Snow white whose skin’s as fair as snow.” You chuckle and shift, getting comfortable in the seat as you watch the other woman. She wasn’t going to win. You were going to keep a mental note of every single person who tried you. It didn’t matter if you got them back immediately because sometimes the wait was far more thrilling, watching them flinch every time you were near, the way they were constantly looking over their shoulders to make sure you weren’t there, the way they’d rush to their next destination in fear of bumping into you. Did you actually ever do anything to them? Technically no. Psychological harm leaves no visible scars; their twitchiness could be brushed off as severe anxiety, perhaps even autism or ADHD. Nobody would believe them if they spoke about how you were intimidating them… Well, not before your face was plastered on the news for the brutal murder of that man. Oh you can hear them now, “I always knew there was something off about her. She has this dead look to her eyes. Only psychopaths have that.”  You chuckle and shake your head, leaning your head back against the wall and closing your eyes as you focus on the sound of the car on the road, and the absence of city noise. You were heading out to the whop whops, the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.

You don’t open your eyes until the vehicle comes to a stop, the woman you were riding with was banging on the door to be let out so she wouldn’t have to spend another minute with you. You can’t help but laugh when she falls out when the doors open, one of the awaiting correction officers pulls her up and leads her away. You move towards the opening, stepping down before stretching as best you could, turning your head to look up at the night sky and letting out a pleased hum, “Fresh air, so much nicer than in the city.”

When you look around, your eyes land on an imposing woman whose hair was slicked back in a tight bun, even in the dim lighting you could tell there wasn’t a single hair out of place, no fly-aways, no frizz, nothing. Her uniform was likely starched and freshly pressed, the buttons polished and the crowns on her shoulders perfectly symmetrical. You tilt your head slightly as you run your eyes up the buttons of her blazer to her face, your cheeks going pink when you notice the slight smirk on her face, and you notice- Oh, there it is, the same look in her eyes that you have, or perhaps the lack of something, the absence of life. The corners of your lips turn up in a predatory grin, and for a moment you felt devilish, your tongue coming out to run along the teeth you bared, “I feel like I’m the guest of honor having someone like you waiting here to greet me. Do you want an autograph? Or something more personal? I assure you, my bite doesn’t hurt that much.”

The imposing woman lets out an amused chuckle and you felt flattered that you’d elicited such a response, “You’re a high-risk inmate, I have to ensure that you don’t cause any chaos in my prison.” She runs her eyes over you without moving her head, most of the other women were too scared to do what she needed done, fearful of retribution from other inmates, but that little bite guard around your mouth, and the chains ensuring you couldn’t attack anyone told her that you were what she needed. She was going to have fun with you, and she was certain you would enjoy every minute of it too. “Process her, and take her to protection for the night. Miss Bennett and I will assess tomorrow whether or not she is suited for general.”

“Protection?” You ask with a pout, almost upset you wouldn’t get to meet any of the other inmates yet, “I’m wounded.” You laugh when, who you can only assume is Miss Bennett ushers you into the prison to be processed. You had no doubt in your mind that there was a reason for you coming here so late in the evening, the absence of  the other inmates trying to intimidate new-comers was noticeable and it frustrated you that you wouldn’t get to experience it, but word travels fast in prisons so by morning you were certain that they would know there was someone special in their midst. “Miss Bennett,” you draw out the ‘iss’ and add emphasis to the ‘B’ of her name, a childlike smile on your face and glee in your eyes, “Is this where you feel me up and play it off as protocol?” The smile drops from your face when you’re stopped in a room, looking at her, “Because if your hand goes anywhere near my cunt, I’ll rip the fucker off.”

Miss Bennett falters slightly, her eyes narrowing slightly and briefly, “Which is why you’ll be remaining cuffed, Miss Smythe. We wouldn’t want you having any additional charges added to your docket now, would we? You’ll be patted down seeing as you’re already in a corrections uniform. I trust my colleagues at the precinct did a sufficient job in ensuring you weren’t concealing anything.” She goes to put on a pair of latex gloves when the door opens again, “I was just about to pat her down, Governor Ferguson,” Miss Bennett informs the much taller woman.

“I will be conducting the search, Miss Bennett. I do, however, would like you to uncuff Miss Smythe.” The governor watches as Vera tentatively starts to remove the cuffs from you, the mousy woman nearly jumping out of her skin when you scare her before you stretch, your bones letting out satisfying cracks. “Leave us.��

“But, Governor, she’s a high-“

“I won’t repeat myself, Miss Bennett, I find it tedious.” She replies dryly, her eyes never leaving yours. She pulls something from the inside pocket of her blazer, and at first you couldn’t figure out what they were until you watch as she pulls the smooth black leather gloves onto her large hands, fitting her snuggly and reflecting the harsh sterile lighting in the room. She pushes down between each of her fingers to make sure they fit properly, like a ritual. You notice her nostrils flare somewhat when she’s satisfied. Finally her eyes return to you, the dark brown almost black and you feel the air being pulled from your lungs, “Remove your clothes.”

“Want me to be sensual with it for you, Governor? Or do you prefer a quick strip?” You ask, running your hands over your chest then down your body before laughing although the sound is cut short when she slaps you hard across the face, her own features expressionless. “Rough,” you rub your cheek before removing your clothes, taking the time to fold them and neatly put them off to the side which greatly pleases the older woman although she wouldn’t admit it.

You unclip your bra, adding it to the pile along with your underwear once you’ve removed them. You hold your arms out to the side, standing still while she examines you. Her touch was methodical, making sure she didn’t miss an inch of you least she gloss over something you were concealing, although she doubted you would try to when your mere existence was a weapon. Her hands lift up each breast, her finger running underneath them to feel for anything before she lets go. You couldn’t help but feel like your breathing was too loud, or was it that the room was far too silent for your liking? The silence, you found, had always been particularly suffocating, and now it only seemed to be far worse. You try taking a quieter breath, but even that seemed piercing in this room. Her hand moves lower, causing every synapse in your brain to fire, and before you realize what you were doing, your hand was wrapped tightly around her wrist forcing it back, “Don’t fucking touch me or I’ll rip your fucking face off.”

“Unhand me, or I’ll make sure you never see the light of day again,” she replies cooly, “I don’t imagine someone like you prefers social isolation, no natural light, no interaction even from the guards.” She moves her other hand lower, running over the slight bump of your stomach, her fingers touching the curls at the top of your pubis, “Do you have something to hide, Miss Smythe?”

You feel your blood run cold, letting go of her hand out of fear and stepping back until you’re against the wall, “No- No, I don’t. I don’t need to smuggle anything in. It’s just my teeth- Just my teeth, Go- Governor, I swear.” Your fear intrigued her, was this the reason why you were so violent? Because someone had taken something from you when you were unable to defend yourself? She lets out a hum, she would have to re-read your file. Joan knew that fear was an excellent motivator, perhaps all she had to do was break you down and rebuild you. The thought thrilled her, reinvigorated her. How delicious. “Please,” you plead, “I swear I don’t have anything. They- they checked me before transporting me here. I- I didn’t trade anything because the bitch was frightened of me.”

You were scared, now what you needed was kindness. “You poor thing,” she says surprisingly softly, moving carefully towards you, “So much change in such a short span of time, no wonder you’re so on edge.” She reaches out to gently stroke your cheek, her thumb brushing across the swell of it, the cool glove a wonderful contrast to your burning skin. Her features had softened considerably, a tenderness in her eyes that had you, against your better judgement, leaning into her touch. “When you’re ready, how about you put your clothes back on, and I will walk you to your cell for the night, hm? I’m sure I can arrange for a hot beverage of your liking to make you a little more comfortable.”

“I-“ God, you didn’t realize how tired you were until she mentioned going to your cell, your eyes suddenly heavy, “I just want some sleep,” you whisper, your eyes drifting shut as she continues to caress your cheek, “I haven’t- I haven’t slept in a few days. I just- I can’t let my guard down-“

“I know you do,” she moves her hand from your face before helping you get dressed, her touch never lingering long as to avoid putting you on edge again. She smooths your clothing out, the action helping to soothe you further, “There we go, all better, hm? Come on, let’s get you to your new accommodation.” Joan offers you a brief smile which brings color to your cheeks, her hand resting on the center of your back as she guides you out of the room, “Once you’re there, I’ll remove that nasty little bite guard from you. I can’t imagine it’s terribly comfortable for you. What a nasty thing.”

“It’s not- It’s not terrible,” you reply quietly, “Safety is more important than my comfort, don’t you think? It’s why they put it on me. But-“ You giggle a bit, “I suppose it would make it difficult for me to enjoy the drink you were offering.” The only sound in the building was coming from your feet on the ground, Joan’s shoes making a delicious clicking that, you couldn’t deny, was something you thoroughly enjoyed. You wonder if the other staff’s shoes would make the same sound, if you would be able to differentiate between theirs and Joan’s. Not that you were already infatuated with the woman, you weren’t going to forget what she tried doing to you so easily, just for now you were going to put it to the back of your mind. Were you easily convinced? Bought off with a hot chocolate? Maybe just for tonight. Just for tonight.

When you arrive at your destination, Joan gestures for you to enter the cell, “You get comfortable, and I’ll return shortly with that drink- Does hot chocolate suit? I can have it made with chocolate sauce just this once.” She gives you that smile again and you return it with a slight nod of your head. The older woman lets out a satisfied hum before shutting the door and leaving. You weren’t the youngest woman in the prison by any means, but there was something about you that was so different to everyone else, something better and she was going to do her best to ensure that it flourishes. She adds the chocolate sauce to the mug, mixing in something special before adding the hot milk, putting a few marshmallows on top for good measure. Joan gives it another stir, tapping the teaspoon against the mug before putting it in the sink then returning to you. She focuses on the sound of her feet on the linoleum, counting her breath with each step, a steady pace, a confident stride. She draws in a deep breath through her nose, exhaling slowly and putting that warm, friendly smile on her face that you were receptive to. She knocks on the door to your cell before unlocking it and opening it, “One hot chocolate with marshmallows.”

“With marshmallows too?” You smile and take the mug from her with thanks, “You should be careful, Governor, too much tlc and people might get jealous, or think you have a thing for me. Wouldn’t such a thing put a target on my back?” You sit back, bringing your knees up and resting the mug on top of your knee as you watch her. You pluck out a marshmallow with your tongue before chewing on it, letting out a happy hum. You usually didn’t like marshmallows, but sometimes you have a hankering for them, and when you do finally get them, you love it- the soft chew, or in this case, the stickiness that comes from them being partially melted.

“It’s a one off, Miss Smythe. Just to make your first night easier on you.” She had taken her gloves off by this point, clasping her hands together at the front of her waist as she watches you. She wasn’t fond of marshmallows, finding the texture unpleasant especially as they start to melt. “I don’t imagine a woman like you would have any difficulty standing up for yourself given you had no issue doing it in a bar full of rowdy patrons.”

“I don’t make a habit of ripping people’s throats out, Governor.” You start to sip the drink, you were happy it was sweet as it helped to cut through the richness of the chocolate sauce. Your eyes shut briefly as you think back to the times where you had wanted to rip out more people’s throats, but at that point in time, your degree was far more important to you than immediate retribution. In all your time of having violent fantasies, the one thing that always stopped you from acting on them was your future- your dream, your goal. Psychologists had told you that this was narcissistic, anti-social behavior, but you simply didn’t care. Your future was far more important than other people’s feelings on the matter, on how you should behave and treat people because at the end of the day, you were the only one putting in the work, the only one cheering yourself on, not them. Not anybody. Just you. But of course, some man had to go and ruin a good thing, didn’t he? They just can’t help themselves. You let out a tsk before opening your eyes again, “I’d advise keeping the male staff away from me, Governor.”

Now that was interesting, perhaps a solution to a thorn in her side had just landed perfectly within her grasp- Fletcher. What a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a human being. “Don’t tell me you’re showing me your cards before the game has truly started,” Joan drawls, an amused look on her face, “I can’t have you threatening harm to my staff.”

“It’s not a threat, Governor Ferguson, it’s informing you of the inevitable should any be near. Now, that isn’t to say that I won’t be cordial if they are, but I won’t tolerate any man talking to me like I’m some object, someone’s property.” You drink some more, your head starting to feel foggy but you put that down to fatigue, “Shit-“ You go to put the mug to the side but miss the table, Joan moving quickly to help you put it on, murmuring a “careful.” You blink a few times, your eyes struggling to focus and now you were starting to put the pieces together, “You-“ You force your head up to look at her, “You drugged me?” You slur, trying to take a swing at her but you fall to the side, onto your bed, “Fucking-“

Joan moves you so you were laying comfortably, pulling the thin sheets over your body, “Yes yes, go on about how I’m a bitch. The usual diatribe gets rather tedious when it isn’t your first time hearing it. However, you will thank me in the morning for being able to get a good sleep your first night here.” Her face was so close to yours that you could smell her breath, peppermint, the kind that made your mouth hurt when you would drink cold water after. “Don’t take this small act of generosity for granted. You’ll think of it when I offer you deals in future, and if you’re good,” she uses a finger to brush a strand of hair from your face, “You’ll reap the rewards.”

Her words filled your head like molasses, but you didn’t have the energy to reply to her, your eyes rolling back into your head as the effects of the sedative kick in. A dreamless sleep was a blessing, you just wouldn’t be appreciative of it for a while- certainly if you were denied your antipsychotics. You did know, however, that this Governor Ferguson was an enigma that you wanted to crack. You just didn’t know if you would break first.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Noah Berlatsky at Public Notice:

Donald Trump’s victory in the presidential election last week has led, inevitably, to a miserable round of Democratic blaming, shaming, bitterness, and general panic.

Bernie Sanders (as he tends to do) claimed the loss was the fault of the Democrats having “abandoned working class people.” Nancy Pelosi blamed Joe Biden for not exiting the race early enough, and the lack of an open primary. New York Rep. Tom Suozzi and Massachusetts Rep. Seth Moulton gracelessly embraced the bigoted talking point that the Democrats lost because of their (albeit limited) support for trans rights.

None of these analyses are very convincing. Nor are they especially helpful to vulnerable constituents who are terrified of what a Trump term means for them. A Democratic Party focused on bickering and blame — or worse looking for ways to throw various constituencies to the MAGA wolves — is not the Democratic Party we need right now.

[...]

Blue state governors won’t save us, but they can help

One of the most vocal blue state governors to promise anti-MAGA measures has been JB Pritzker of Illinois. In a combative news conference last Thursday, Pritzker warned Trump and MAGA, “To anyone who intends to come take away the freedom and opportunity and dignity of Illinoisans: I would remind you that a happy warrior is still a warrior.” “You come for my people, you come through me,” he concluded.

Pritzker’s statement wasn’t just bluster. Illinois has taken a range of measures to shore up protections for vulnerable groups since Pritzker won the governor’s race in 2018. The state passed a law in 2023 shielding abortion recipients from civil or criminal discovery and from extradition to other states. The same law ensured that insurance in Illinois would cover abortion medication and gender-affirming care, and also strengthened protections for IVF. Pritzker also signed legislation making it easier for trans people to change the gender on their birth certificates without medical certification. And the state passed laws to provide for foster provisions and guardianship for children of immigrants arrested or deported by ICE. Now the Illinois governor is working on plans to try to limit the damage from Trump going forward. He and staffers have been studying Trump’s Project 2025 plan for the next four years. In the 2025 legislative session, Pritzker plans to pass additional legislation to protect the identity of abortion refugees and to try to safeguard access to the abortion pill mifepristone. He’s also looking into ways to shore up environmental regulations.

Perhaps most pressingly, Pritzker says he has been in touch with other Democratic governors to discuss Project 2025 plans to withhold police grants from blue states that refuse to participate in mass deportation. Pritzker said that such actions would be “illegal” and promised to oppose them in court. Pritzker’s actions are being mirrored in other blue states. Gavin Newsom in California has called a special legislative session to provide more funds for the state attorney general’s office to challenge Trump measures on abortion, the environment, gun control, union dues, and more. New York Gov. Kathy Hochul and New York AG Letitia James said they would increase coordination between their offices to “protect New Yorkers’ fundamental freedoms from any potential threats.” Washington state AG Bob Ferguson tweeted that the state had been “working for months to prepare for another Trump term,” going through Project 2025 “line by line” to address “unconstitutional assaults on your reproductive rights, access to health care, and civil rights.”

Happy to see some Blue state governors such as Pritzker, Newsom, and Hochul protect their state’s people from MAGA fascism.

[bighermie]

Three Times Democrat Leaders Refused to Call in the National Guard for Political Reasons and Entire Communities, Businesses, Families, and Individuals were Destroyed | The Gateway Pundit | by Jim Hoft

[inlovewithgreta]

Please write a fic where reader comes up from behind Ferguson at her desk and kisses the back of her neck and then slowly unbuttons her collar and tie, etc.

The amount of joy I had writing this is uncanny. What started as one idea turned into many, and holy shit do I love how it turned out. This also is a lot longer than I had expected— whoops! Thank you for requesting more Joan, I hope you really enjoy this! Let me know what you think! ♡︎

Surprise Visit - Joan Ferguson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You go visit Joan at work.

Warnings: praise, degradation, semi-public sex, mirror sex, fingering (r!receiving), spanking, strap-on sex (r!receiving), overstimulation, let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3.1k

Taglist: @celasteria @shslbunnylover @bellatrixsbrat @coffeebreath23 @janewaykove

© Do not copy, repost, or modify any of my works.

"Darling, shouldn't you be at home?" Joan's voice rang out.

You had left work only to surprise your lover at work. She had to stay overtime with how relentless and demanding prisoners have been recently. Meaning Joan was more tired and frustrated than usual.

You were the only one though that could help relieve her of such stress.

"I missed you," you stated with a faux pout forming across your lips, making your way around the front of her desk.

Joan's dark eyes were on you like a hawk, taking note of the glimmer in your eye, the extra sway of your hips, and the large trench coat suspiciously wrapped around your body.

The weather was hot and sunny, and Joan immediately knew you were up to no good. On a day like this you would typically wear almost nothing, and she would have to constantly protect you from wandering eyes.

"I missed you too, my love. But I still have so much left to do..." Joan let out a sigh.

"But baby..." You made your way behind your lover, and wrapped your arms around her neck. "You already spend so much time here. And you're the boss, you can leave whenever you want."

Your lips make their way to Joan's neck, breathing faintly against her milky skin before attaching to the flesh.

"Is this what you've come here to do?" She chuckles.

"Do what?..." you teased, biting down her neck and eliciting a quiet hiss. You both knew it would leave a mark, and Joan would have to come up with some kind of excuse.

"Seduce me," she husked, letting her head tilt to give you more room to mark up her neck.

"Is it working yet?" You asked, moving your fingers to nimbly unbutton her white collared shirt. Your tongue flicked to soothe each bite, and you swore you could hear the faintest of moans.

"Depends," she said. Joan swiftly grabbed your hand and pulled you to stand in front of her. "What do you have hiding under that coat there, hmm?" She asked, slowly licking her lips.

Your eyes quickly darted to her chest, admiring the upper swell of her breasts and the abundance of cleavage popping out from her partially unbuttoned shirt.

If the heels were any indication, Joan was excited to see what you had hidden away.

With slow, intricate movements, you unbuttoned your own coat. Joan leaned back in her chair, eyes watching you intently as you revealed inch after inch of bare skin.

You had on a matching lace see-through set. Joan's favorite set. The same set she bought for you for your wedding night. The sight of you wearing it forced Joan to let out a groan.

"You little minx..." She shook her head as your coat dropped to the floor. "So you're telling me..." she started, grabbing at your hips protectively to bring you closer to her. "That you wore this skimpy little outfit to my work.. Did anybody see you in this??" She asked with furrowed brows.

"I don't think so.." you mumbled, cheeks growing a deep crimson. How could you know when you were too focused on getting to Joan to pay attention to your surroundings.

"You don't think so?" She huffed, before expertly turning you around with ease and bending you over her desk. You couldn't help but gasp from the sudden motion.

"I-I was just wanting to get to you, Joanie." Your hands were flat on the desk, and the coldness from the wood along your barely covered breasts elicited a chill.

"Such a little slut. Coming to see me at work in this skimpy little getup, expecting me to shower you with praise and fuck you 'til you see star." She tsked, fully standing behind you, and holding you down.

"Well you have one thing right, Governor," you teased, wiggling your ass against her crotch.

"And what is that?" She dared to ask, letting her hands mindlessly wander across your smooth bare back.

"That you're going to fuck me," you stated truthfully with a smirk.

You gasped when you felt a sharp sudden pain on your ass. It was rare when Joan spanked you. Saving it for special moments. Moments like this where you were bratty.

"Just for that comment alone, I'm not going to stop until I have you screaming my name loud enough for even the prisoners to hear how much of a whore you are for the Governor."

Your knees grow weak at her words, breath already short and ragged. "Do you understand?" She asked, soothing the cheek she just smacked.

You shakily nodded your head, daring to look back at the dominatrix standing behind you.

Another sharp smack made its way onto your ass, eliciting the smallest of moans from you. "Answer me," she huskily demanded.

"Yes, Governor... I understand." Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as you grew more excited.

Joan leaned forward, ensuring her body was heavily pressed against yours while her lips hovered just next to your ear. "Good girl," she cooed.

You could feel the dampness between your legs grow, as Joan herself grew determined with every inch of her being to be true to her words.

"And already so wet for me.." Her fingers slid up and down between your legs, feeling just how wet you truly were so quickly.

Your knees were weak, thankful your lover was holding onto you tightly. Lips trailed along your bare back with passion and determination. Your head was spinning by the time you felt Joan suddenly pull away from you.

"Wait— Where—"

"Patience," she calmly but firmly stated.

Your hands were tapping along the wood, turning your head to see her entering her pin for the safe sitting on her wall. You felt yourself shiver, knowing that's where she kept her toys.

With how often you visited, and how horny you always were, she decided to buy toys strictly for her office. And one of them in particular, was your absolute favorite.

It just so happened to be the toy Joan grabbed, and you licked your lips.

As you went to turn your head, Joan tugged at your hair to force you to look ahead. What happened to be straight ahead of you, caught you by surprise.

Instead of the usual cabinet, there was a tall, floor length mirror in its place, facing across from her desk, and your eyes met Joan's through the reflection.

"What's this?" You asked, blush visibly growing across your cheeks.

"I want you to see us." Your eyes lit up at her words. In the reflection, you can see her standing dominantly behind you, with a piercing gaze.

Her pants soon fell to the floor, and she eagerly stepped into the strap, ensuring the end of the toy was pressing against her clit.

"You have no idea how breathtaking you look like this, do you?"

"Tell me," you whispered.

Joan's hands fell to your hips, before tugging your lacy panties down your legs. She was slow and careful, and you quivered.

"Whenever I look at you, my pretty angel, all I can see is how perfect you are. How soft your skin looks, your enchanting curves, how your body is always begging for my touch."

Her fingers traced along the skin across your hips as she spoke deep. Teasing the curve of your ass with her nails. Your back arched at her touch, her slow, lazy touch eliciting more neediness within you for more.

Your ass wiggled against her crotch, only this time feeling relief when you felt the tip of her dick rub against your clit that sent jolts of electricity through you.

"Look at the way you're already begging for me to fill you..." Joan teased, raising her right hand to smack your ass even harder this time. You yelped, but a moan fell past your lips right after.

"Please... I need you.. so bad," you whined, letting your lips fall into a pout as you gazed at your lover through the mirror.

Joan leaned in, letting her lips linger to the side of your head. When she speaks, her voice is low and gravely, and you could feel your pussy clench around nothing.

"Can't take more of what?"

"More of this damned teasing. Please, baby.. I need you. All of you."

Joan let out a low chuckle, as she started kissing a line from your ear, back down your neck, and all the way down the line of your spine.

Your breath hitches when you see her drop to her knees behind you, her tall shadowy figure no longer hovering behind you. Her fingers caress the curve of your ass, admiring the deep shade of crimson she had caused.

"You're still teasing... Joan, please!" You went to wiggle your ass, but Joan held a firm grip on you to keep you still. Her lips were hot against your ass, using her teeth to nip against your skin. The sweet, hard sting sent you reeling.

Before you could even wince, Joan soothed the bite with a soft, gentle kiss. "Since you've come all this way..." she spoke up, standing tall behind you once more. "Might as well make it worth it.."

You had no time for a rebuttal before Joan slammed her hips forward, bottoming you out instantly with her faux cock. The sudden intrusion sent you forward, having to hold yourself with a deathly grip on the edge of her desk.

"Fucking hell!" You cried out, not expecting her to go straight in. If there was one thing to know about Joan, it was that you never knew what she was going to do next.

She was a wild card, and it was exhilarating. The sweet sting of her filling you completely, and the mix of pleasure had you letting out moan after moan as Joan set a quick and rough pace.

"That's it, take my cock like the little whore that you are. I want to hear you screaming my name," she demanded between grunts.

When your head fell forward, Joan wrapped her hand in a handful of your hair, before giving it a yank to force your head to look straight into the mirror.

"I want you to look at me while I fuck this pussy of yours," she groaned. Skin was slapping roughly against skin, and your pussy was dripping wet. The two noises put together along with your moans, was straight out of a porno. It was dirty, yet thrilling.

You nodded your head, keeping contact with your lover through the mirror. Her hair was tussled, brows were knitted in concentration, and you took note of how her shirt was now completely unbuttoned, and her tie was undone around her neck, giving you a full view of her breasts tightly restrained by her dark bra.

It was a sight that you took in every inch of, memorizing it, wanting to etch it into your brain to remember forever.

"Joan, I'm so close!" You cried out.

"Already?..." she tsked, slapping your ass once more. "Can't take my cock for a mere minute before you're already coming. So fucking pathetic," her said sharply.

Your arms felt like jello, growing weaker and weaker as the seconds went by, making it harder for you to hold yourself up. "I—I can't- Joan!" You were louder than you had expected, feeling your pussy clench before letting go.

You came with a loud moan, tears brimming at the edge of your eyes as Joan held a deep, seductive smirk on her face as she watched you become undone.

Her pace stayed the same, allowing you to ride out your orgasm for as long as possible. Wanting to see your tear stained cheeks. Wanting to see you turn into mush from her fucking you.

Your breath hitched when Joan pulled you up by your hair, before flipping you around to face her. "M-my, legs...Fuck, I can't!" You shook your head, but Joan wasn't having it.

She pulled you up by your thighs, swiftly carrying you to the window in her arms as your legs wrapped around her waist for support.

"You didn't think I was going to stop at one, did you?" She cocked her head to the side as your eyes widened.

Your back hits the window with a thump, and Joan ensured you were stuck in place, before reaching a hand to grab a fistful of her cock. She spit on the length, allowing the saliva to linger before pumping to spread the wetness along her cock before teasing at your used entrance.

"Joan, the prisoners.. w-what if—"

"They see us? Oh sweetheart, you should've thought about that before you came in here with that slutty little outfit wanting to be fucked." She smirked devilishly.

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out, so Joan leaned forward, taking the opportunity to cup your breast. She brought a nipple to her mouth and sucked.

You moan out and arch into her, your fingers desperately clutching at her now messy bun to pull her closer. You're trapped and completely at her mercy as she lavished your perky breasts with loving nips and licks.

"Yesss..." your legs tighten around her waist.

"Can you stand?" She asks, eyes dark with desire.

"I think so... why—" you gasp when Joan hastily puts you down and spins you around. Your hands make way to the window, splayed out against the cool glass.

Her body is heavy and warm behind you, as her hands make way to your waist once more. You arch your back to grind against her cock, and let out a soft moan when the tip presses against your throbbing clit.

"Always so eager.." Joan runs her hands down your back and back over your ass. Her hands stay there, massaging the fat before giving each cheek a hard smack.

A low growl escapes her throat as she finally stops teasing you. One slender finger finds its way into your seeping hole, and you find yourself yelling out her name.

You were so sensitive, your pussy clenching around her single digit as she warmed you back up. It takes everything in you to steady yourself.

"Fuck me with your cock.." You reach back to pull at her wrist. Joan doesn't budge, and instead inserts a second finger, making you gasp.

"I thought I already told you to be patient," she kissed your neck. "Impatient little sluts don't get what they want." You groaned at her words, but knew you wouldn't get your way if you didn't listen.

Her other hand reaches up to tweak your nipple, and Joan lets out a groan. She loved how hard your nipples got, and how perfectly your breasts fit into her hand. Like they were made just for her.

Your moans grew louder once more, and if anyone walked by the door, they would know exactly what was going on behind closed doors.

Your legs were quick to start shaking, your upcoming orgasm coming faster than before. You hadn't expected it, but Joan matched the pinching of your nipple to her finger thrusting.

"I need you to come for me. I want to feel you come around my fingers." Her words were more than enough to send you flying over the edge.

"Joan!" Your legs shook, and your breath fogged up the glass as you breathed heavily. You couldn't help but shout her name as you slumped forward against the window.

Joan slows her pace, giving you a moment to recover by placing gentle kisses to your back to soothe your shaking body.

"That's it, baby. So good for me..." She cooed, noticing how spent you were. You peaked back with a smile, legs feeling weak.

"One more? Please? With the strap this time..." you pleaded, and Joan couldn't help the chuckle she let out.

"Are you sure you can take it? Darling, you look like you're about to fall over," she noted, pointing down at your shaking legs.

"Looks like you'll have to pick me up again," you bit your lower lip with a humorous glint in your eye.

Joan shook her head as she helped you turn back around. Fingers tapped at the back of your thighs, signaling for you to jump, in which you eagerly did.

"God, what am I going to do with you..." Joan pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your neck, before bringing her lips to your own.

Finally, she lines her cock up to your entrance, and slowly pushes herself in. "Joan..." you mumbled into the kiss, just before she shoved her tongue down your throat.

Your hips instantly buck to meet her thrusts, tingles of electricity shooting throughout your entire body. You gasp when she reaches the deepest part within you, hitting the spongy spot inside your cunt that had you seeing stars.

Joan was hungry and determined, alternating between long, slow strokes and hard, deep thrusts with her hips.

"Yess...just like— that!" Your head fell against the glass as your back arched, giving Joan a better view of your bouncing breasts.

Joan smirks down at you, letting out her own quiet moans as the strap rubbed beautifully against her clit. Her eyes glistened with desire, watching you fall apart once more.

Her thumb reaches between you, rubbing circles along your puffy clit. You can't seem to remember what you were about to say, getting completely lost in the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked in your lovers office.

The only thing in your mind was Joan. The way she fucked you so good, her eager hands on your skin, and her wet mouth against your own. She was dominant in every way. And both of you relished in it.

She circles your pleasure point, once, twice, three more times until you come hard around her faux cock with a scream. Your nails dug into her skin, leaving crescent marks along her flesh, and Joan felt herself come right after you.

You feel broken and exhausted, and Joan could tell. She soothed you with kisses along your face, peppering the corner of your eyes to stop the overstimulated tears from falling.

"That's my good girl, just breathe with me," she cooed. Her movements slowed, before she pulled out of you. "You took me so well."

Even though you were overstimulated, the feeling of her leaving you empty had the tears falling. You couldn't even control it at this point, as you no longer had control over your body.

Your brain was mush, and your head was spinning as you tried coming down from your high. Joan, taking pity on you, carried your limp body to her chair.

She sat you down gently before sliding out of the harness, choosing to deal with the toy later and take care of you first.

"Here. Drink." She demanded, handing you her half-empty glass of water from earlier. "You'll feel better." As you hummed drinking the crisp water that immediately soothed your dry throat, Joan took the necessary actions to clean you up.

First she grabbed a clean cloth from one of her many, many drawers, and bent down between your legs. She paused, waiting for the nod of your head before she gently wiped you clean.

You whined from the touch, and Joan soothed you with quiet hushes and sweet praises. Even placing a tender kiss on your knee. It was the tender moments like this that made your heart swell.

Yes, she could be very demanding and dominant during intimacy, but she would only give you what you could take. Ensuring she was still sweet and caring in the end. After all, you were her guardian angel. The most precious thing in her life.

And she would do anything for you. No matter what.

general masterlist | pamela masterlist | taglist

[cannibalspicnic]

WENTWORTH (2013-2021)

Pamela Rabe as GOVERNOR JOAN FERGUSON 2.01 PRISONER JOAN FERGUSON 4.02

[kineticpenguin]

The number of Bob Fergusons running to be Washington’s next governor grew to three on Friday. A conservative Republican activist threw a monkey wrench into the race by recruiting two last-minute Democratic candidates who share the same name as the party’s presumed front-runner. The newcomers, one from Yakima and the other Graham, will now share the Aug. 6 primary ballot with Attorney General Bob Ferguson. In all, 30 candidates filed in the race.

This is probably going to work because there's something that makes Washington the state where fucking idiotic but wacky Republican hijinks are a viable tactic

[pamelaxrabe]

Governor Ferguson

[secretsofthewilde]

Joan Ferguson & Physical touch - Part 1

Okay I was encouraged to do a write up on Joan Ferguson's relationship with physical touch, so let's get into it. For simplicity's sake I'm going to be looking into how we see this play out first when she is the Governor and then when she is an inmate. Because of how long this ended up being, below will be part one, which covers her time as a governor (and before).

When we are first introduced to her in season 2 it is made clear immediately that she's at the very least averse to touch. The introductory act of putting on gloves in order to pull out the drugs from the laundry cart is meant to draw the audience's attention to the way in which she cares about her hands/cleanliness. While it could be assumed to just be a sign of professionalism that she does this, it is also our first indication in the show that she may have OCD. This relationship with gloves and cleanliness will of course come into play and be much more relevant later on in the show. In this same introductory episode we see her make a deal with a journalist and when offered a handshake to seal the deal there is a clear moment of hesitation before she does so, and then immediately sanitises her hands afterwards. This tells us that while she is capable of physical touch she clearly isn't comfortable with it - the immediate use of hand sanitiser offers another point into the contamination OCD being a reason for this.

So our first episode with Governor Ferguson clearly sets us up with the idea that she is presenting herself as an untouchable (both literally and figuratively) figure in the show. Through the next few episodes we regularly see that she will not accept physical touch from others, but will provide it herself in order to achieve her means. This is most often in the form of an awkward comforting gesture or, as we see with Vera in the second episode this season, a just-as-awkward brief moment of physical affection; specifically the way she pretends to both tipsily and playfully hit Vera across the shoulder in order to lower her guard and reveal information to her.

When she arrives at Vera's house unexpectedly to bring dinner for Vera and her sick mother, Joan presents herself in a very unassuming way and yet she is clearly the one in control in the situation; while she is technically a guest in Vera's house, she is the one who lets herself inside (after initially turning down Vera's offer) and she is the one who takes control of the kitchen, moving about and preparing food as if it were her own house. She seems entirely comfortable interacting with this unknown house, but we do see her fastidiously washing her hands in the kitchen - which is generally just good food/cooking hygiene but also could be a sign of her contamination OCD. Unlike her cleanliness at work (such as the hand satanising, or need to keep her desk organised) however, Vera doesn't take notice of any of Joan's behaviour in her kitchen as being strange. When she is being introduced to Rita for the first time Joan reaches out and clutches the dying woman's hand in what appears to be a comforting grasp, though as we see her then whisper something in Rita's ear that scares her, it's likely that the faux comforting gesture was also done as a means of physically holding power over the woman.

From her interactions with Vera in S2 outside of work it seems that Joan aims to present herself as untouchable at work, but is willing to present herself as more friendly, and therefore engage in rare physical affection, in order to achieve her goals. These moments however all need to be her own choice; she will actively avoid others touching her, but if she is control of a scenario then she may make the choice to physically touch someone.

From the limited context we have of her relationship with both her father and Jianna from seasons 2 & 3 we can infer that Joan has spent most of her life without physical affection. Though it is clear that she cared for Jianna during her time at Blackmoor, the moments of care we see shared between them are stilted and awkward. Having been raised with the understanding that emotions are a weakness and being unfamiliar with physical affection, it's clear to see that while Joan wants to care for Jianna she doesn't know how to. In these few interactions Jianna herself is the one initiating much of their affection; she is the one to grab Joan's hand and place it on her belly, and she's the one to offer Shane to Joan to hold. While Joan is clearly anxious to accept these moments of affection from Jianna, she does accept them. It's important to note here that she doesn't seem to be averse to touch in the way we are used to during these flashbacks, and her OCD compulsions may also not have been as severe then as they are when we meet her as Governor. It's only after she allows herself to accept this affection and care for someone else - to have emotions, and therefore be, according to her father, weak- that she then has to suffer through the loss of Jianna. It could stand to reason then that this loss is what aggravated her awkward relationship with physical affection to become the touch aversion that we are familiar with. Likewise, I think it could be argued that the stress of this loss may have triggered her OCD compulsions to get worse; in her mind there became a correlation between physical touch/affection and potential contamination/hurt.

By making it so that she is the one in control of any physical touch occurring with her, she is ensuring that she isn't appearing weak and more importantly that she isn't at risk of being hurt.

This all goes to establish where Joan is with her relationship with physical touch by the time we get to the end of season 2. Through the duration of season 3 we then get to see Joan's control over several facets of her life/persona begin to slip. As she is losing her sense of control over the prison so too does she struggle with her own self control.

While the full nature of Joan's torture of Jodie Spiteri is open for interpretation (due to us only seeing brief moments of it or hearing of it second hand) we do clearly see Joan physically soothing Jodie in one of the moments we do get to see. She cradles Jodie to herself and physically appears to be comforting her, juxtaposing the violence with which she is using her words against the inmate. In this moment we see her clearly weaponising physical affection by using it here to manipulate Jodie in order to help the effectiveness of her torture, however as we later see this tenderness return with other victims of hers I believe this is also an early example of how Joan's violent actions often are attempting to meet more than one of her needs at a time. Jodie clearly states that Joan treated her with moments of gentleness, and this (momentary) gentle treatment is the only of it's kind we have seen Joan engage in properly since Jianna. By physically soothing Jodie she is not only effectively manipulating the younger inmate, but she is also meeting her own needs for affection and touch, albeit with several layers of protection (both metaphorical and literal - her iconic gloves are worn as she cradles Jodie), so as not to compromise her sense of power/control.

For Joan, she needs to be in control at all times. Though there are rare times she allows herself to be touched, it is always in order to achieve a goal and within circumstances that she feels in control of. Because emotions led to mistakes she therefore cannot actively seek physical affection/comfort in the normal way one might. This means that the only times she can seek this out in moments where she feels that is entirely in control, such as in acts of violence.

Now it wouldn't really be an overview of Joan's relationship with physical touch in season 3 if I didn't at least mention the dinner scene in episode 3x08, The Goldfish. The dinner scene does initially seem similar to when Joan brought dinner to Vera's house in how Joan presents herself to Vera; she appears open and friendly to her deputy, while attempting to maintain control over their interaction. When Vera begins to visibly get emotional and accuses Joan of not caring for her, we see Joan struggle to reassure her that she does, before she ultimately reaches out a hand towards Vera in a comforting gesture. This attempt can be viewed in a few ways; the comforting gesture of a held hand seems to be one of the only ways she knows how to offer comfort to someone (as opposed to a hug for example), whether for genuine reasons or for achieving her goals. While attempting to console Vera in this moment does align with her goals of keeping her deputy on her side, the hesitation we see surrounding the gesture makes it seem more likely that she was being genuine. When grasping Rita's hand in the season earlier, she seems to have no hesitation at all, as it's all part of her plan for that evening. With Vera however, she clearly hesitates in the moment, just as she did when offering Jianna comfort. After years of believing that physical affection is a weakness, something she can weaponise towards others but never seek herself, she makes an attempt here with Vera to connect.

Unfortunately, when Vera reveals her positive Hep C status immediately after this significant moment for Joan, her contamination phobia is triggered. She pulls her hand away from Vera to grab a napkin, who interprets the action as one of disgust or rejection, and remains frozen in horror as Vera then leaves her. This again reinforces the idea for Joan that an attempt at genuine physical affection from or for her will inevitably result in her getting hurt; not only did her attempt at comforting Vera result in her (in her mind) unknowingly putting herself at risk of becoming infected, but by having unintentionally hurt Vera by pulling her hand away she then also is hurt herself through losing her deputy. When she is then rejected later again that same episode - this time by Doreen - Joan seeks comfort in the arms of her father; to be cradled like a child, and soothed with words of advice. As the ghost of her father cradles her, he reminds her that "this is what happens when you let emotions interfere," effectively blaming Joan's attempt at a connection with Vera/Doreen for the pain she is experiencing.

Feeling that she is losing control of the prison, her carefully crafted untouchable persona, and the deputy she unintentionally had grown to care for, these moments of rejection are the final straw which causes her to break down for the first (but not last) time this season. For the duration of the season, we have seen Joan strengthen the walls of her untouchable and harsh work persona even further. She offers little attempt at presenting herself as a caring person to anyone besides Vera, with the only exception being Doreen - who, to Joan, is effectively the ghost of Jianna*. Unable to seek or give affection to anyone in her life, we see the governor turn to the ghosts of her past in order to try to assuage her needs. This of course doesn't work in her favour, as Doreen will only reject her and Ivan isn't really there, and instead this only intensifies her downward spiral which culminates in the final episode of the season.

While Joan has the potential for overcoming her touch aversion, her fear of rejection or suffering is what stops her from being able to. This ideology of hers could have been successful challenged through her connection with Vera, however the season ends with Joan's perceived rejections and overall defeat only reinforcing this ideology. In the following seasons we will see her relationship with physical affection/touch stay bound by this ideology for the most part, until the final season of course. To accept or seek physical affection for genuine emotive reasons is to be weak, and can only end in her own suffering; but if she feels in control of a given scenario, if she is actively working towards a goal, only then may she chose to do so as part of working towards her given goal.

*this point on Joan's relationship with her past trauma/ghosts is something I may return to and explore more in depth/through the lens of Gothic literature. If anyone's interested in me doing this, please let me know!