Worplace Training

This story contains a small amount of bondage and a little playful humiliation, but it's lighthearted and rather silly. Reader discretion is advised.

1.

"Have you been subject to sexist micro-aggressions in the workplace?" asked the quiz. "Can you pick such transgressions out of the following examples?"

Brow furrowing, Nina scanned the list. None of the options involved French maid uniforms; there were no references to spanking; there was nothing indeed about being bound tightly to a hotel-room bed and, to be relatively frank, ravished within an inch of one's life. She supposed that Alex's habitual violations of every rule in the HR handbook would count as macro- rather than micro-aggressions.

Having aced the sexism quiz - what price that expertise, she reflected sadly - Nina clicked through to the next training module. It was titled "How to avoid getting caught up in an international money laundering operation". She sighed and looked out of the window. London in August: unbroken sunshine, hot dark bookshops, cold glasses of wine, dozing in the park during the day and walking along the Thames in the cool of the evening. All the things she loved about the city; all the things she would be doing today if she didn't have to work.

"Having trouble with the quiz, bonehead?"

Alex strolled past Nina's desk and winked at her. Less than five minutes ago she had been informed this was inappropriate behaviour that should be reported to a senior member of staff, but she knew she wouldn't.

"Not at all, Alex. I found I was worryingly knowledgeable about..."

"Look, I don't care, I was just making conversation. Anyway, listen. I don't think the official training has any value. Money laundering? Insider trading? They obviously think our work is a lot more exciting than it really is. It's

irrelevant

."

Nina frowned, thinking about the Maserati in the Seine and that undercover operation in the glamorous Worcester nightclub and wondering about Alex's definition of "exciting".

"It's the new HR manager, I think," she replied rather limply. "They want full regulatory compliance."

"Oh really?" Alex smirked. "But surely no one is more compliant than you."

Nina blushed slightly. "I do take my training obligations seriously, and I advise you to do the same. The world is changing," she added, not unkindly. "You can't get away with this James Bond nonsense forever, you know."

"You do talk a lot of rubbish sometimes, bimbo." He smiled. "And I know more about HR than these idiots. In fact, I've written my own training course."

"You have?" Oh no. "And it's compliant with the relevant legislation, is it?"

"Baby, this training is all about compliance!"

"I bet."

"So what do you say? Want to sack this off and try something more productive?"

Nina sighed, and gave him a half smile. She had a suspicion about the kind of training Alex had in mind, but still: it would be less boring than this. And he

was

wearing the dark blue suit.

"Give me a minute to wash up my coffee cup."

"And mine."

"Two minutes, then."

2.

PreSs "any" KEY to beGin TRAINNING,

Nina peered doubtfully at the screen of Alex's laptop, which was field issue and beyond state of the art. Its whisper-slim chassis had been custom-designed for the agency by Sir Jonathan Ive based on a MacBook model slated to launch in the year 2034, and ran a bespoke OS with zero recorded security vulnerabilities. Alex mainly used it to play browser games.

"Did you write this yourself?" she asked politely.

"Of course. Get on with it."

Nina pecked gingerly at the Z key, which seemed to be the least damaged on the scarred keyboard. It had been modified at enormous expense to allow agents to write in twelve languages simultaneously. Or create dubious training programs.

A large stock photo appeared on the screen. It showed a group of businessmen pointing at a dry-erase board, on which were written the words "

SECURITY BEST PRACTICES 2017

" in large red letters. A caption appeared underneath.

Who iS the "REAL" sexisst! Anwser these QUESTION'S to find-out?

Nina giggled very softly under her breath, not wanting to hurt Alex's feelings; he was inexplicably proud of his enthusiastic writing style.

1, a MAN paYs compliment's to "a lady and/or woMan" is this sexiSt?!

Having a fair idea of the way Alex's mind worked, Nina clicked the button marked NO. Another stock image appeared, showing a woman in a wheelchair giving a thumbs up.

CORECT1

She smiled and clicked continue.

2: a MAN hold's the door "open" is this sexsit?!

"How many questions are there, Alex?"

"You don't need to know that. Just do what you're told."

"Hmm." She clicked NO, smiled at a stock photo of a dog wearing a hat, then clicked continue.

3 - a WOMAN refuse's to adhEre to "dress-code" is this SEXISt?!

"Ah," Nina sighed. "Yes, I think I see where this is going." She clicked YES.

CORECT1

"Hmm."

YOU HAVE SCORED [undefined] OUT OF THREE CONGRATULATION'S,

"Well done baby, I knew you could do it."

"It's all about putting oneself in the shoes of the question setter, I find."

"Very clever, brainbox. Let's see how well you do in the next segment."

"There's more?" Nina frowned, looking at the king-sized bed. Alex had registered this afternoon as an off-site meeting and they had come to their usual hotel. "I thought we were going to have some fun."

"This

will

be fun. Get on with it."

WELLCOME TO THE 2nd TRAINING SEGMANT, press "ANY" key to cotninue,

She pressed Z again.

DRESS-code is "important" for eg moral, team COHESIVNESS ect. But who decides what Dres Code is APLICABLE! Anwser these question's to find-out?

"Oh Alex." She wanted to skip ahead to the dressing-up part, but knew how much pleasure it had given him to write this program for her.

"Hmmm. I hope these questions aren't too difficult."

"You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

1; a LADY (eg fEmale) get's to choose her own DRES-code! YES or NO?

Nina silently apologised to her suffragette forebears and clicked NO.

2. the LADIES freinds (possibly FEMNIST) choose her DRES-code?

NO.

3 Applicable senior eg MANAGER get's to CHOOSE as Specified in Hand Book (HR). YES or NO

Nina was rolling her eyes so much she felt dizzy. YES.

CONGRATULATION'S you scored [variable 'ScoRE' not found] Please press any "key" to cotninue to Practical EXam,

"Stand up, baby."

"Oh Alex, I didn't know you were such an expert programmer."

"There's a lot you don't know about me. It's time to put your newly acquired knowledge to practical use."

3.

"Imagine you were given an order from your direct line manager, and you felt that it was inappropriate. What would you do?"

"I would..." Nina looked Alex in the eye. "I seem to recall that I'm supposed to report the situation to HR."

"Yes yes, but what if HR weren't available?"

"I would... report it to my manager's manager?"

"And if

he

wasn't available?"

"Your manager's a woman, isn't she Alex?"

There was a pause.

"You know, Nina, I'm not sure you're taking this training very seriously. I hope I won't need to employ disciplinary measures."

Nina gulped, looking at the cane Alex had placed on the bed earlier.

"I see what you mean, sir. You want to test my respect for your authority. I think you'd be surprised at how far I'd be willing to go to prove that to you."

"Yes." He looked mollified. "Good. So: what would you do?"

"I would naturally obey the order in full, and keep my qualms to myself."

"Correct." He held up a dry-cleaning bag, which contained something orange and something white. "And to test the theory, my order is simple: put this on."

4.

"Do you like this on me, honey?"

Nina smoothed down the T-shirt, which she would have estimated to be at least three sizes too small for her, except she knew that was the point. The only difference between this shirt and a coat of white paint was the word HOOTERS and a picture of an owl. Naturally there was no room to accommodate a bra underneath.

"I like obedience. So I am pleased - for now."

"Yes, sir."

The orange shorts, too, were farcically undersized: the kind of shorts where you have to say the word twice to get across quite

how

short they really are. Nina tugged down the material at the back.

"Don't do that. Leave them alone."

"Yes, sir. Do you have any further orders, or is the training complete?"

"The training is complete when I say it is. And right now, we need to do a roleplay to further test your willingness to obey."

"Ah."

"Serve me."

"I'm sorry?"

"Serve me. Take my order, then serve me."

"Er. Yes, right. Sorry, I'm a waitress?"

"A waitress in a sexy but sophisticated establishment."

"Naturally. Um, good evening, sir." She affected an American accent, and winked. "Can I get anything for, er, y'all?"

Alex smiled in the shy, slightly crooked way he did when genuinely pleased, and she saw at once that she had aced the assignment.

"Get me a cheeseburger, sweet cheeks. And a beer."

"Sure thing, doll. Here's your cheeseburger!" Nina mimed handing over a plate.

"No. I said serve me. There's a restaurant downstairs."

5.

"A cheeseburger, please, and a bottle of Blue Moon." Nina was whispering, and the young waiter - how old could he be, twenty-one at most? - was having trouble hearing. He was also having trouble keeping his eyes on his notepad. You little pervert, she thought for a moment, then reflected more charitably that the circumstances were unusual, to say the least.

"I'm sorry, miss, but we don't do takeaways. If you want room service you need to call a separate number."

"Look, kid." She leaned closer, perilously close to poking the spotty youth with a wayward and distressingly erect nipple. "I just want a fucking burger and a beer, and I want to take them up to my room myself. Is there a problem?"

"No ma'am. Except... well... are you sure you can manage it?" He glanced at her torso, and Nina was forced to concede that he might have a point. Before sending her down, Alex had taken a short length of rope and bound her elbows closely together behind her back. She still had the use of her hands, after a fashion, but was quite unable to free herself. Or adopt any posture other than "nineties men's magazine cover star" with tits and arse thrust out in front and behind respectively. It was not that the simple binding was

more

humiliating than the Hooters uniform, exactly; it was more that it worked efficiently

with

the outfit to objectify and degrade her to the very limits of endurance. She had been blushing ever since she left the privacy of the room, but she now blushed considerably more, a rich pink suffusing her pretty cheeks and making her look even cuter than usual.

"Yes. I know this is a strange situation, but yes, I'm fine. I'm doing a sort of dare. Please don't attract any more attention than I'm already getting." Nina swallowed, glancing around the room. "I beg you, please don't make a fuss. Just a beer and a burger, as quick as you can."

The young man, obviously spellbound by an event destined to shape his sexual identity for decades to come, sloped off, leaving Nina standing awkwardly by the counter and trying to act casual. The restaurant, mercifully, was only half full, but the clientele was at least 80 per cent male; it was decorated as a sort of sports bar and someone had put cricket on the television. Nobody was watching the cricket. And a group of well-lubricated twenty-somethings were now coming over, presumably seeing themselves in the role of knights errant and Nina as their damsel in distress.

"Is everything all right, miss?" asked a man with a West Midlands accent and a replica football shirt. Something about his register put Nina in mind of an inexperienced police officer; she wondered if he would later describe her as an individual attempting to secure victuals under the influence of rope. "Can I offer assistance of any kind?"

"No, it's quite all right." Police Trainee had six friends, and Nina could see their eyes running up and down her body. If she gave them the benefit of the doubt, it was possible they were worried about her physical safety, but there were more plausible explanations. "Are you, er, all here together?"

"Stag do." Fuck. "Just waiting for the other lads to turn up." Double fuck. "Wahey, here they are now!" Triple fuck. Another half-dozen stags barrelled into the bar, grinning broadly and whispering among themselves as they took in Nina's outfit and posture: her thrust-out tits, straining at the thin material of the shirt; her arms, trapped and helpless behind her back; her cute bum in the demeaningly tiny orange shorts; the blush on her lovely face. She had an urge to clarify that she wasn't the evening's entertainment... but was obliged to accept that, in every sense that mattered, she was.

6.

"Your beer and burger, ma'am."

Nina turned around, surprised and confused; each fresh humiliation somehow wiped her memory of the ones before.

"Ah. Thank you! I appreciate the quick turnaround. Now, er, if you wouldn't mind..." She gave the server her most dazzling smile, big and bright and wicked, biting her lip bashfully. It would take a heart of stone to resist her. "Could you, um. Could you take the bandana from around my neck, and..." She tailed off. It was one thing to ask Alex to gag her, but a total stranger! "Could you tie it in my mouth?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I don't quite understand."

She leaned in again. "Look, it's not rocket science," she whispered urgently. "I just need you to gag me. Just pretend you're kidnapping me and need to keep me quiet. Take the bandana, jam it between my teeth, and tie it tightly behind my head."

The kid looked overwhelmed. Nina knew all of this was going straight into core sexual memories.

"Please, I need this. Gag me."

Moving slowly, uncertainly, the young man untied the brightly patterned cotton bandana - Alex's favourite bandana - from around her neck, running it thoughtfully through his fingers, appreciating the texture of the cloth. His shyness seemed to be lessening. More resolutely, he tied a knot in the centre of the bandana and pushed it firmly into Nina's mouth, tugged on the ends of the bandana so they fitted snugly between her teeth and finally knotted them tightly together behind her neck.

"How does that feel, ma'am?"

"Jnphph rnghph, phhnnh ymn. Hghy!"

He had given her a discreet little spank on the bum, but no one else seemed to have noticed. She should probably report that to a senior manager, Nina reflected, recalling her training from that morning; but then again, the same could be said of her own actions. Maybe best not to make a fuss. Best just to get this over with.

Despite the twin obstacles of the tight rope around her elbows and the stags' gallant efforts to foot the bill themselves, Nina managed to pay for the meal using Alex's debit card. She added a frankly ludicrous tip to reward the server's services above and beyond the call of duty, and take some small measure of revenge. (Not that he would notice. Alex had what could best be described as a

theoretical

attitude to money.)

"Nph wmnph lmnflmn phn mmmph ymn," Nina said in what she hoped was a conclusive tone. "Cnngrnphnmnphnnnph nn phhm mnrrnngm." The stags' faces indicated that they had not understood a word, and that they didn't much care. The gagged and bound damsel in the Hooters uniform had made their night.

"You take care now," said Police Trainee, committed to the role, as Nina tottered off with the plate and glass clutched precariously in her hands. And as the swinging door bumped into her pert bum on the way out, the restaurant broke into an enormous and spontaneous round of applause.

7.

Opening the door was of course an impossibility; even knocking, realistically, was out of the question. Nina was forced to repeat the undignified trick of bumping against the door with her bottom, which made a soft but surely discernible sound. Discernible to someone who wanted to hear, anyway; a total bastard who wanted to prolong his captive's humiliation might well claim to have heard nothing at all.

"Nlmgh! N'fm gnph ymnr bhnrgmr!" Not for the first time when spending time with Alex, Nina felt both ridiculous and turned on. The two things were linked; it turned her on that Alex liked to demean and humiliate her like this. Dressed up like a male-gaze cartoon of a woman, put to work as a serving wench at a man's beck and call, bound and now securely gagged so she couldn't escape her predicament or even complain about it in any kind of dignified way... The whole thing was indefensible from an ideological point of view, yet that was what made it so fun.

The door opened.

"I didn't order any food."

It closed again. Nina couldn't help giggling. She used to worry that laughing might spoil a scene, but somehow it never did. The door opened for a second time. Alex was smiling too, crookeder than ever.

"You did it! I'm so proud of you!"

He pulled her inside the room, and then close in for a hug. She was conscious of the shape of his body, its contours moving under the suit.

"I'm sorry, let me take those." All nerves now.

The food safely down on the desk, the beer on a side table. And then his fingers are untying your gag while you get in the way trying to kiss and you both laugh again. And your arms are free too and your hands are everywhere and his jacket is gone and his shirt is off and he is yours, he was always yours, and afternoon becomes evening and the sun goes down over the river and you decide not to report him, not this time.

FIN