Drain Ch. 02

"I think so," Flora said, "Why? Did I miss something, Soph?" She smiled condescendingly.

"I assumed you would check if I... followed your instructions," Sophia said.

"Oh, Soph," Flora laughed, "as if I even have to. We both know what kind of woman you are."

Flora, you arrogant motherfucker, thought Sophia, feeling her cheeks start to turn red.

"Anyway," Flora continued, leaning in to whisper, "I'll see plenty of your cunt tonight, Soph. Outside of our 'duties' — well, at least ask me on a date first."

Sophia felt her face flush red, felt the warmth of Flora's breath on her neck, smelled Flora's perfume, her skin.

"Besides," Flora said, "maybe one day you'll earn a punishment bad enough that I'll have no choice but to intervene. That would be fun, wouldn't it?"

Flora pulled away and Sophia realized she was wet again. God damnit, Flora, she thought, imagining the woman pulling her by her hair, stripping her naked, spanking her.

"That's all for now, Soph," she said as she turned to leave. "Oh — and try not to hold a grudge, okay? I know we've had our disagreements, but the truth is you've done more for the Program now than you ever hindered it before. I'd even say I like you." She smiled. "Anyway, remember to stick to a light lunch, will you?"

"Yes, Ms. Enz," Sophia said, only realizing what had left her mouth when it was too late. Flora's eyes lit up as she made her exit.

—

Sophia's stomach growled as she made her way out of the relief station and down to the IRAS marketplace to grab a bite to eat, reckoning that a small sandwich would tide her over. With it in hand, she retreated back to the privacy of her office, hoping to while away the afternoon buried in her work, blocking out thoughts of the evening task that awaited her.

Still, the lingering sense of anxiety grew as the day went on, her clandestine state of undress always serving as a reminder of her servility to the Program — to Flora. By the end of the workday, she was nervously bobbing in her chair in her meeting, her eyes repeatedly shooting over to the clock in anticipation.

4:30.

4:40.

4:50.

4:55. Shit!

It was 5:04 when the meeting finally adjourned. Sophia slung her bag over her shoulder and darted out, offering hardly a wave to her coworkers. Shit, she thought. Shit, shit, shit. She stepped swiftly and purposefully toward the elevator bank, then toward the tram, tapping her foot in every moment of waiting. From her trips during the planning meetings for the Relief Program, she knew that Psychosocial Motivics was about eleven minutes away. Ten if I'm lucky, she thought. Fuck!

At 5:10, her phone buzzed in her purse as she rode the tram. What now? she thought impatiently. She dug around and pulled it out. A notification.

D.R.A.I.N.

Penalty assigned. (Level II — Insubordination, Moderate). Reason: Tardiness. After five minutes, penalty will be elevated to Level III.

"Shit!" she muttered aloud, feeling her body tense up, her temperature rising. This isn't even my fault! What does she want me to do — cut my boss's meeting short?

The tram stopped, the station now in view, the halls of Flora's division behind it. Sophia checked her watch. 5:12. When the doors opened, she rushed out, nearly running as she flew out of the station, past blocks of offices, meeting rooms, laboratories, walls lined with printed warnings, research posters, monitors, trying to get to Flora's office as fast as she could.

As she reached the door, her phone buzzed in her purse again. Shit! she thought. But there wasn't time to worry about that — she knocked frantically and panted as she waited for a response.

The door creaked open.

"You finally decided to show up, huh?" came Flora's voice. She was standing there in her lab coat again, the curves of her body flattered nonetheless by her fitted emerald-green turtleneck sweater and tight pencil skirt. As always, she was wearing heels — higher than Sophia's.

"I — I'm sorry," stammered Sophia, bowing at the waist. "I got stuck in a meeting."

"It's okay, Soph, there's no need for excuses," smiled Flora. "That's what the penalty system is for, after all."

Fuck! thought Sophia. She wouldn't even have time to acknowledge her punishment in the application until later in the evening. The uncertainty of the thing pulled at her. "Fair enough," she replied, defeated.

Flora beckoned her to enter the office and she accepted. Flora pulled the door closed behind her and locked it shut.

As always, her office was in an almost unearthly state of tidiness, with only a handful of neatly stacked books and papers out of place among its pair of long desks, its shelves immaculate in their organization. The only thing that even suggested a sense of leisure was the brightly polished squarish black couch near the entrance — for important guests.

"Anyway, let's get you down to Central Collections, shall we? We can make up for lost time on the way there."

She tapped at a device on her wrist and a pair of shelves at the back of the office began to shift with a low whirr; Sophia watched as they pulled away from the wall and came apart. There, there was a metal elevator door that had been painted to match the wall around it.

The door slid open almost silently, revealing a bright steel interior. Flora stepped in as Sophia gaped. How much money did we spend on this? she thought.

"Care to join me, Soph?" came Flora. Her hand patted the metal rail next to her.

Sophia nodded and entered, the door closing behind her with a soft thump, its seal seeming almost hermetic. After it began its silent descent, Flora pushed herself up from the railing and looked over her.

"All right," she said. "First things first, your purse. You have nothing else on your person, right?"

Sophia shook her head and handed over her purse. Without it, she realized, she wouldn't have her identification, her phone, her documents — nothing to distinguish her. She was just another person. Or a piece of meat, the thought came. Flora draped it over the railing, her eyes fixated on her wrist.

"Now, take your clothes off," she said nonchalantly.

"What? Here?" Sophia stammered, taken back by the sudden and inappropriate demand. They weren't even in the facilities yet.

"Well, it's either here or down in Central Collections; what difference does it really make?" she said. "Besides, you were late, weren't you?"

"I guess," Sophia said meekly, already pulling her sweater over her head. Next came her shoes, followed by her skirt, her stockings, her bra. Now her clothing sat in a pile in as she stood naked in front of Flora; before, it had been in the facilities, and it felt like part of a show — a charade, almost — but here it was strangely intimate. She realized her sex was welling with moisture once again.

"I see you haven't changed a bit," Flora smirked. Sophia turned her gaze to the floor.

"Well, maybe one day you'll accept it, at least," she continued, circling around to Sophia's back and gathering her hair. She's braiding it again, Sophia realized.

"Accept what?" Sophia said, flinching as Flora pulled the hair tightly toward the top of her head.

Flora sighed and chuckled. "Well, whatever. We can keep playing pretend if you want." Her hands made quick work of Sophia's hair, forming a tight black braid down to her shoulder. Flora twisted it into a tight bun and pinned it up. How long does this elevator take? thought Sophia.

"Just a couple more things," said Flora, circling back around in front of her. She pulled a little spray bottle from the pocket of her lab coat and shook it. "We have to make sure you look nice and presentable; isn't that right, Soph? Or should I say — Cici."

Sophia's stomach tightened as a jolt of lust flew through her. Fuck, she thought.

Flora began to spray the liquid onto her body, spreading it around with her other hand — oil, Sophia realized. Soon her neck, breasts, and midsection were coated, shining; her feet, arms and legs came next, leaving only her butt and groin.

Flora sprayed the oil carefully onto her pubic mound, her upper thighs, the recess of her lower back. Her gaze came up to meet Sophia's as she tucked the bottle back into her coat, and the two stared silently at one another as Flora massaged the oil into Sophia's body with her hands, coating her ass, her inner thighs. Her touch was firm, methodical, therapeutic.

Only at the end did her fingers find their way between Sophia's legs — stroking her perineum, kissing her anus, squeezing at her vulva. Sophia gasped. Is this really necessary? she thought. She was getting wetter by the second.

"How much was it that you needed?" Flora teased. "Five and a half liters?"

"Yes," Sophia stuttered, letting out her breath. She could see the quivering of her naked body reflected in the elevator walls. Fuck.

"We'll see if we can satisfy you then, Cici," she smiled.

Fuck. Sophia's legs shook. "Thank you, Ms. Enz."

Flora's smile widened. "Oh, the pleasure is mine, cum-drain."