Kimber's New Job

The last thing I remember, I was in the waiting room, in for my yearly physical. My boss had scheduled it. It was just a routine exam--temperature, blood pressure, ear, nose, throat. I had been with the company exactly one year, and the company insurance policy required the checkup.

The company was a wonderful place to work. Great pay, benefits, time off, and a boss who really seemed to understand me. Once I passed my physical, I would also receive a raise.

When I woke up, I was still at the doctor's office, but now I was lying back on an exam table, dressed in a flimsy paper gown.

Groggy, I called out "hello?"

A nurse approached, calling "Doctor, she's awake."

The door opened and a man walked in dressed in green scrubs, latex gloves, and a surgeon's mask and cap. His eyes were piercing blue. His look and demeanor scared me. I squirmed slightly and he motioned to the nurse and nodded slightly.

I was still groggy and felt extremely weak as my arms were lifted over my head and buckled into cuffs at the top of the table. My waist was belted down to the able, and my ankles were lifted into stirrups and buckled in securely.

Now a second nurse entered the room, dressed in a starched white uniform, nurse's cap and a surgical mask. Her eyes were familiar.

"Is this my physical," I asked, dazed and more than a little confused.

"No, dear," the first nurse told me, "it is more like your initiation." All three of them laughed. "We know about you, we read your email, log your online sessions, read your files. That is why we hired you in the first place."

The nurse continued, "We have a very strict hierarchy, which you are going to learn about now. Starting next week, you and your boss will be moving upstairs. And your life is going to change. For the better. We've been watching you, we know what you need."

The doctor took out a pair of shears, and cut the paper gown away from my body. The nurses pulled the shredded gown away and disposed of it. I blushed lying naked and bound before three strangers.

The table was adjusted, so my legs were splayed wider and a large exam light shone directly on my pussy. The second nurse held up a remote control and a row of curtains parted, revealing a gallery of seats. Sitting there were two dozen men and women, all dressed impeccably. I scanned the audience and slowly, I began to recognize faces, remember names. People who had left the firm throughout the year, fired, quit, hired away, they were all there and they were all smiling.

The nurse explained. "I know, you thought they all left. No, they were all promoted. They now work upstairs. The way you get promoted is to hire a secretary, well, like you."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Why don't you tell us?" the nurse asked, "or should I read this?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, innocently, squirming slightly in my bonds, testing them.

She began reading, "Dear Master, My pussy is still aching from the sandpaper torture. . ." she looked at me, "should I continue?"

"We are all dying to know what the sandpaper torture is, precious. It sounds delightful. But first, do you want to tell us?"

I nodded weakly, feeling a wave of humiliation wash over me, "I am a submissive."

The gallery erupted in laughter. "I'd say you are a bit more than that, dear. I'd say you were a masochist, a slut, and very deeply into humiliation and role playing games. At least I hope so, or we've wasted years of our time and yours."

I nodded, blushing, "Yes, I am."

"Well," the nurse continued, "so are most of your friends at work. You can't see them," the nurse told me, "but all those secretaries you thought left? They are up in the gallery, most of them bound and gagged, kneeling at the feet of their masters or mistresses. Most are like you, a few are more extreme in their tastes. You remember Katie?"

I nodded. Katie was the cutest, most adorable little thing you could imagine. Sweet, innocent, Mid-Western farm girl, homecoming queen, butter would melt in her mouth.

"Katie," the nurse told me, "likes to be used as a toilet." The nurse motioned to the gallery. I would have never believed it if I hadn't seen it. Katie stood up, naked and bound, blushing brightly. She mouthed the words "Hi, Kimber." I smiled back at her. Across her forehead was the word "TOILET" in big block letters. The man with her raised a large white funnel and held the small end to her lips. She opened her mouth, allowed him to insert the funnel and strap it on her, buckling it behind her head.

I thought of Katie as a human toilet and felt myself grow excited. All three of them noticed and commented upon it.

The nurse remarked to the others, "Happens every time. Now, poor Katie is going to have a tummy full of pee before your session is over. She looks so cute with her belly distended, all full like that. Oh, I forgot to mention, she has a locking catheter. She can only pee when it is released, which sometimes isn't for days. She loves it though."

The nurse looked at me, "And we know what you love too. We know how you need to be treated, what you yearn for, what you crave and we're going to give it to you."

"But, first," she continued, "you need to be initiated, in your own special way. Like all of our girls, you will get the rings and the injections."

The second nurse, placed small metal rings over each of my nipples. She pulled on them, flicking them gently until each was firmly erect, slightly constricted by the ring. She placed small plastic boxes over each, which had a switch and a small electric cord running from them. She flicked the switch down and I felt a slight suction, drawing my nipple in. She flicked the switch up and I felt a very slight tingling in my nipples. Slowly the tingling turned to a slight prickle and then pain.

"These little boxes are slowly piercing your nipples, dear," the voice said. Immediately I recognized the voice, Chrissy, who had been fired a day after I arrived, but who I had been going out with every Wednesday for drinks and dancing.

"Chrissy?" I asked, half questioning, half pleading.

She lowered the mask, showing me her face. "Yes, dear. You'll be working in my division. Those little boxes take about three hours the way they're set. I could have made it instant, but I wanted you to enjoy yourself." She leaned down and kissed me full on the lips, pulling back she sucked my lower lip into her mouth and bit it firmly. She slowly pulled back, letting it slide out from her teeth.

I arched my back and inhaled sharply as the pain grew in my nipples.

"Now," the first nurse interrupted, "for the injections. Doctor?"

The doctor approached and removed a set of syringes.

The nurse explained, "The doctor will now make five injections. One in each outer labia, one in each inner labia, and one in your clit. It is a special irritant. It will make your pussy and clit swell obscenely. It will also make it extremely tender. You will find it difficult to walk, sit, sleep, or do anything except with your legs spread as wide as you can manage."

I felt the first injection. Slowly, it left as if my lips was inflating. Then the second. It felt as if my pussy had grown to 10 times its size.

"Now," she said, "the inner lips." Within a few seconds of the needle going in, all I wanted to do was spread myself wider. It felt like my cunt was a balloon, over-inflated and ready to burst. I looked down and gasped, the swelling was incredible. Just having the lips touching each other was agony. I started to cry. The audience applauded.

The final injection made my clit swell until it was enormous.

The doctor lowered his mask. It was my boss. He smiled, "colored contacts."

He placed his hand on my swollen pussy, making it throb in excruciating pain.

"Welcome to your new job, Kimber."

The lights were turned up and the guests in the gallery departed. The needles in my nipples were becoming agonizingly painful.

The doctors and nurses left. I twisted and squirmed, trying to get free.

A voice came over the intercom, "Please hold still. Someone will be with you shortly."

Soon enough, a short blond woman entered the room. "Hi," she said, "I'm filthy cum slut. My real name is Beth, but I have to introduce myself that way until I'm off punishment. I'm here for your orientation."

I looked her over. I didn't recognize her. She wore two gold rings in her nipples and her pussy was adorned with six gold bars, which held her pussy lips together. She noticed me looking at her.

"Oh, my chastity piercing?" she giggled, "we all get them. If your boss is nice, you will get to choose. Sometimes they are temporary, mine are permanent. They do very nice work here."

"Anyway," she continued, "about your new job." She looked at me kindly, spreading the stirrups wider, "That should help." It eased the pain slightly. "Thank you," I whispered.

"When you show up for work, you take the first elevator, marked 'express.' It will take you to the top floor, what we call 'upstairs.' When you get off, you will be in a large locker room. You will get undressed, put your clothes in your locker and put on whatever is waiting there for you. Sometimes they will leave instructions, sometimes you just have to figure it out. All the secretaries in the office are now your sisters, you can ask them for help in the locker room, but on the floor, you can not speak to anyone without permission. Permission, is any superior, saying 'Speak.' There are exceptions, one which you are about to find out about."

She looked over a piece of paper in her hand. I whimpered as the needles poked deeper into my nipples. She winced, "How long?"

I looked at her unsure of what my answer meant, "3 hours," I said softly.

"Oh," she said, "someone really must like you. Mine took 2 hours, and that was the longest I had ever heard." She stroked my hair, "Poor thing." She smiled.

I squirmed as the needles cut deeper.

"Now this," she told me, resting her hand on my swollen, aching pussy, "is going to be a problem for you. As the 'new girl' everyone who outranks you, which is everyone, is allowed to touch you there. And, trust me," she said, shivering as if reliving a bad memory, "it never feels good. Did they tell you? It lasts a week."

I looked at her wide eyed.

"I know," she said, "we all will sympathize, but most of us will be unable to resist giving it a little pat." With that, she tapped my pussy lightly. The sensation shot through me, unbearable pain.

"You especially don't want to earn a pussy spanking. So when you get your rules, memorize them and follow them to the letter."

She kissed my cheek. "Now, it is time for you to focus on your suffering," she said, slipping a soft blindfold over my eyes, "I'll be back when your nipples are ready for the rings and we'll start you on your first week at work."

I heard footsteps and the door close. I was alone, aching in my nipples and pussy, unable to move. I wanted nothing more than for it to stop, and yet part of me wanted it to continue.

I laid back and absorbed my suffering.