Dentists Receptionist

1. The girl at the front desk

I'm humming to myself; there is not much else I can do. The day's paperwork is all done but I'm not allowed to leave my desk without permission. So there I am, a graduate from Harvard business school sitting at the reception desk of a small dental clinic, humming to myself.

Humming to the rhythm of the vibrator that is logged deep inside me.

The minute finger on the wall-clock is slowly moving towards the full hour, 8pm, salvation. The vibrator that has been tormenting me all day is picking up momentum. I feel the vibrations increase in intensity and frequency and finally my humming becomes a single drawn out moan of pleasure as I ride my office chair to the last orgasm of the workday.

It's already 5 past 8 as I slowly rise from the chair, the now resting vibrator slowly slipping from my swollen nether lips. I rearrange my tight white open-crotch panties, matching to my tight white nurse's uniform that fails to cover more than absolutely necessary, and prepare to leave. One look in the mirror confirms my feeling; my long, auburn hair is in disarray and my face is flushed from constant arousal. Maybe I should stop by the washroom to fix my makeup and hair before I go. But first, the last blow job of the day:

I kneel down before the chair and part my lips, then slowly slide the thick shaft of the vibrator down my throat, tasting my own juices from a day of constant, tormenting arousal. The vibrator is part of my chair, it is the buzzer, it is the ring of the phone, it is the doorbell, it is the constant maddening buzz of arousal that accompanies me all day. Every function has a different vibration and I have come to love and hate them all.

I finish cleaning up the most important part of my workspace and give it a little kiss on the obscenely realistic head. I have developed a love/hate relationship with the thing. In addition to the functions I have mentioned, there is an ever so slight buzz, waning and waxing all day, giving me arousal without relief. Sitting in the chair, caressing my breasts and twisting my nipples whenever I think the patients aren't looking I silently curse the devilish intruder for keeping me horny all day.

If I have been a good girl however, the doctor rewards me, and, with the push of a button, the low, tormenting, background vibration turns into a multitude of wonderful stimulations. On my clit, on my G-spot and deep inside my loins it lights the fire of the endless teasing it has done and I come again and again until I collapse on my desk satisfied, if only for the moment.

I leave for the bathroom to fix my makeup, better to be home late than to risk another spanking. The rules are very clear, all nurses and female staff must be of impeccable appearance at all times, even after hours. I rub my sore behind, contemplating on today's punishments. Sometimes I envy the nurses; they don't have to sit still for hours after a spanking. Then again, I wouldn't want to stand all day in the 4 inch platform heels that are part of the uniform. It took me weeks to learn how to walk in them and stairs are still a challenge.

Yes it was not always like this and I have not been a dentist's receptionist forever. Come to think of it, it's just 4 months now! I still can't believe how quickly I have changed, how quickly I gave up my dreams, my dignity, my rights, my freedom.

2. The Treatment

I had just graduated from Harvard, with honours mind you, and was now on an internship in Boston for JP-Morgan. I was doing consulting work for a Japanese client and I was doing it so well that I was certain that I was going to land a job, either with Morgan or the Japanese.

I was just leaving for a long day at JP-Morgan when I got a serious toothache. I bravely shouldered the pain for the day but I had to admit that I needed a dentist, fast.

Being new to Boston I was not familiar with any doctor so I just picked the one who gave me an appointment that I could fit into my very full schedule. The dentist I choose happened to be a Dr. P. Martin. O how I regret that decision!

At first, I was positively surprised, the suburban dental clinic was small but it looked very classy with a glass panel lobby and an expensive black leather couch in the waiting room.

The nurse that picked me up from the waiting room was dressed in a tiny white uniform with a hemline so short that the top of her garters showed with every step. It would have looked ridiculous on most women but the nurse, Alice said her nametag, filled the little dress gracefully with her bulging breasts and perfect figure. Her well formed legs seemed to be made to wear 4 inch platform heels and, with her round butt cheeks swaying gracefully before me, she led me to the examination room.

With my flowing, auburn hair, well trimmed body and pert C-cup breasts I have no reason to be self-conscious about my appearance, but when we met another nurse on the corridor, similarly dressed and similarly well endowed, I began to wonder. Inside the alabaster-white corridors of Dr. Martin's dental clinic, the standard of appearance one had to live up to seemed substantially higher than outside.

The doctor who greeted me in the examination room was younger than I had expected, maybe 28-29, certainly too young to have his own dental clinic. I was quite irritated at that, I had expensive private health insurance and the girl on the phone had assured me that Dr. Martin would treat me personally.

"I was assured that I would be treated by a seasoned professional, I had expected someone a little older. I have platinum health insurance and I demand to be treated by Dr. Martin himself!" The doctor tried to say something but I cut him off before he could even start. "Listen! Unless you are trying to tell me that Dr. Martin will be here to look after me shortly this is just a waste of my time. How dare they give me some first year resident! This is unbelievable!"

When I voiced my discontent at his apparent lack of professional experience, he looked at me with his eyes slightly crossed out, as if he was not pondering a reassuring answer but something else entirely. His eyes wandered across my body with a disconcerting intensity, drinking in my curves with a predatory smile forming on his lips.

I am used to staring, my body kind of demands it, but every man, or woman, has done so with adoration or grudging acknowledgement of my physical charms. This stare was something else entirely; he was assessing me, judging me.

When his attention finally returned to my face I was trembling, his piercing stare had drained all the confidence from me.

He beamed a smile at me, a big, reassuring smile.

"Oh there was no misunderstanding, I am Dr. Martin. Please Mrs Brightwater, have a seat!" He gestured at the leather exam chair.

I complied; his stare followed by the exaggerated friendliness had left me speechless and shaken. My mouth was still agape when he moved over to examine me and a quick look was enough for him to diagnose my ailment.

"You have an affected tooth Mrs Brightwater, I'm afraid we have to drill." I didn't like his ironic tone and I certainly didn't like the emphasis he put on the word DRILL.

I had finally regained my composure and was prepared to jump out of the chair, take my bag and leave, when the unexpected happened.

Alice, the nurse, walked in, strode in, really. Her uniform was revealing much more than it had before. Her coat was unbuttoned down to her belly, baring her well formed E-cup breasts, supported only by a white latex shelf bra. Her nametag was dangling from a ring through her right nipple.

I stared at her speechless for a minute, then I ran. Or tried to run, that is. Previously concealed metal loops had extended from the chair and my wrists had been secured to the armrests.

"I'm afraid the treatment will be slightly painful Mrs Brightwater."

I screamed and struggled against my bonds only to find that my ankles where secured in a similar fashion. The doctor stepped forwards and pulled a bundle of straps from under the headrest of the devilish examination chair. With a few practiced movements he closed the straps around my head and soon there was nothing left I could do but scream.

"Now, open wide!" His voice was cheerful and friendly, as if he was treating me like a regular patient. The drill in his hand was not very reassuring and I quickly stopped screaming and clenched my mouth shut instead.

I couldn't turn my head, but from the corner of my eyes I could see the busty nurse hand him a dental spreader. He pushed the metal contraption past my lips and forced it between my clenched teeth. At the side of the spreader was a little wheel and with every turn of the wheel my mouth was forced open a little wider until my jaws where strained painfully and my mouth was easily accessible for whatever tortures he had planned for me.

"I should be done in about 20 minutes. See to it that the papers are ready by then!" He handed my bag to the nurse and sent her out with a pat on her firm, round bottom.

He began poking around in my mouth and, after a few minutes, I could hear him power up the drill. I was terrified! When he entered my mouth I steeled myself for the pain but there was only a slightly discomforting feeling on one of my molars.

He drilled my affected tooth very professionally for a few minutes and I was wondering what he was up to. I was still secured to the chair, unable to move much more than a muscle and this eerie doctor was giving me a professional dental treatment. Finally he removed the drill from my mouth and placed it on a nearby tray.

"There, we are through, all the way to the nerve." He paused for a few seconds, then looked around impatiently.

The slutty nurse returned with a stack of paper that she placed on the table next to the exam chair. I could barely see her from the position my head was forced into, but beyond the bulging mountains of her breasts I could make out her face. It showed a wild mix of fearful anticipation and ... compassion.

"All typed up, Sir."

Dr. Martin briefly looked through the papers and, absentmindedly, began to fondle her pert breasts with his latex gloved hands.

Suddenly he gripped her name tag and pulled, eliciting a painful scream from the frightened nurse. "You took your sweet little time, girl! You are in for a spanking, later." The chastised nurse lowered her head in shame and shuffled her feet in anticipation of the punishment, not daring to protest in a more outspoken manner.

"Now, back to business!" He picked up the first of the papers on his stack. "Hmm, Josephine Brightwater, a pretentious name for a pretentious girl. And a masters degree in business, too. I think we will have to cut down your self-esteem a little." He began to unbutton my shirt, caressing my satin enclosed breasts. "Your tits are nice, definitely on the small side, but nice. I think I might have the perfect job for you, little career girl. You see, I need a girl who knows her way around numbers and who can hold her own on the phone. You learned that at Harvard, did you?"

He placed the rest of the papers along with a pen on a tray and rolled it next to my right armrest. Then he drew up a syringe with some anaesthetic.

"The American Independent Dentist's Association would recommend a local anaesthesia for the next part of your treatment. However, I'm afraid you can only have it once these papers are signed." He gave me a broad, reassuring smile.

The dental spreader made discernable language impossible but I am sure he could make out the distinctive tone of a heartfelt "FUCK YOU!"

"I'm sorry you feel this way, Josie. You don't mind me calling you Josie, do you?"

I cursed him again at the uninvited shortening of my name, then prepared for the worst as he entered my mouth with a slim stainless-steel instrument.

Nothing could have prepared me for the pain I felt as he touched my bare nerve with the dental poker. For minutes, I screamed at the top of my lungs, jerking spasmodically in my bonds while he smiled down at me, gently moving the little instrument inside my hollow tooth.

"Would you like to reconsider? If you sign them all there is a little reward waiting for you."

I don't like needles, actually I am afraid of them, but at that moment I wanted nothing as much as the syringe that he dangled before my teary eyes.

The nurse secured my right elbow with a leather strap and released my wrist. I couldn't read the paper from my position but he was kind enough to tell me.

"The first one would be your resignation from JP-Morgan, Josie." He placed the pen in my hand and moved it to the dotted line at the bottom of the sheet.

With my hand still shaking from the torture he had put me through I signed the document.

"I understand you are still a little uneasy from being treated without anaesthesia but that signature of yours does not even remotely look like the one on your credit card." He held up my gold Master Card to prove his point and took a fresh sheet from the nurse. "Now you can sign this one properly or should I proceed with the treatment?" He brought the dental poker into my limited view. "Your call!"

I signed the replacement and he nodded approvingly. The sheet went straight into an envelope, addressed for JP-Morgan. "Next up: Your employment contract as a dentist's receptionist at my humble clinic!" He gave me a friendly smile, and added: "At minimum wage!"

He had the voice of a game show moderator handing out wonderful prizes to his stunned audience, while in fact he was handing out the utter destruction of my dreams.

Health insurance waiver, account transfer, car sale documents, credit agreement, week-end and night shift bonus waiver, power of attorney, letter of agreement for breast surgery, I signed them all.

"And finally, my favourite!" He took the pen from my hand and replaced it with the bottle of anaesthesia that he had used to fill the syringe. Bewildered I took it, unsure what to do with it. With a deft motion he took it from my hand again and placed it in a plastic bag. "Thank you for the fingerprints Josie!" He handed me the pen again. "My favourite: a written confession for the theft and sale of Novocaine!"

When I failed to sign the document, he looked down at me with a disappointed look. "What's the matter Josie? If you don't sign that confession, how can I convince the police that you where dead broke due to your drug debts, sold your car and ruined your career and then turned to stealing and selling a controlled drug? Without that little document how can I prevent you from walking out of here and never come back to work as my receptionist?" He made a sad face.

It was bizarre; he could have hidden the key document amount the countless trivial documents he had made me sign and I would not have known. Instead he revealed all his devilish intentions to me. He wanted me to know that with this final signature I would be signing my life away. Of course, I refused. At first.

I saw nothing but bright pain, the pain was so intense that it had taken over all my senses. I saw pain, I heard pain, I even smelled pain but most of all I felt pain. Pain like I had never felt before and I never intend to feel again. It felt like a giant was crushing my teeth with a steel girder, when in fact he was just using that tiny dental poker, moving it only a fraction of a millimetre at a time.

I opened my eyes and my senses slowly returned to me. The nurse was holding my hand, tears of compassion streaming down her face, ruining her perfect makeup and flowing over her bare breasts.

I looked around, but the doctor was nowhere to be seen. I gave the nurse a questioning look.

"You have been unconscious for a few minutes so he went to buy some drugs. He told me to have the paperwork finished when he returns." She placed the pen in my hand again. "Please sign it! It's no use fighting him."

I looked up at her tear filled eyes, meeting the knowing look of someone who had endured the same torment as I had, and signed the confession.

3. Letting go

Dr. Martin returned and looked over the paperwork that would change my life forever. Finally he smiled at me approvingly.

"That's a good girl! Now you will get your little reward." He gently caressed my cheeks, still wet from my tears and injected me with the syringe. The residual pain vanished as a merciful numbness spread in my jaw. "Here I have a second one for you." He injected me with a clear liquid. "It's marijuana, coke, heroine and speed." I looked at him with sheer terror in my eyes. "Don't worry; the dose is so small that you won't feel anything. However, it will show up on any drug test for a few months. Just in case you don't intend to honour the employment contract you just signed."

He moved closer and took up his horrible dental poker again. My eyes were wide with disbelief and I began to sob to myself; I had done what he had asked me to do, signed everything I owned and everything I dreamed to be away. Wasn't that enough? Did he have to torture me further?

"Shush, girl! I'm not going to hurt you. You still have that hollow tooth that needs a filling and what kind of doctor would I be if I let a human suffer if I can help it?"

True to his word I didn't feel any pain as he proceeded filling my tooth.

"Poor girl has been through a lot! Alice, why don't you make her feel better?" He pushed a button on the exam chair's console and I heard the suction pump spring to life. The nurse cut my bra with a pair of surgical scissors and placed a pair of suction tubes, usually used to drain away excess salvia, on my nipples. The feeling was intense as my nipples where pulled into the tubes, extending to be almost an inch in length. While the machine milked me, he reached for the console again and I felt my legs parting, as the footrest of the exam chair split in two until it resembled a gynaecologist's chair more than a dentist's. I saw Alice move between my legs until her pretty face vanished under my skirt.

Numbed from the anaesthesia I barely felt the doctor treating my tooth. Instead I felt the rhythmic pumping of the suction tubes on my nipples and Alice's hot breath, only inches from my crotch. She licked across my thin panties, making the wet material cling to my most intimate flesh. I felt her cheeks brush against my inner thighs and her probing hands were sliding under my shirt, circling my belly button. Then, finally, she pushed my panties aside and I felt her warm tongue slowly circling my clit as she penetrated me with her fingers.

I had kissed girls before, but I had never gone farther than that. I was not a lesbian! I wanted to protest at the Sapphic intimacy that was forced upon me but all I managed was a drawn out moan at this most gentle rape.

I had been tortured, stripped of my possessions, my rights and my dignity; I had nothing left to lose. I had surrendered to the pain, signed over my entire life to this sadistic doctor and now I was surrendering to the gentle caress of Alice's experienced tongue.

It was then that I decided to let go, letting myself fall backwards into the realm of pleasure and pain that is doctor Martins dental clinic.

4. Don't be late

I must have passed out on the examination chair after the doctor was done treating me. The pain, the pleasure, the drugs, it just had been too much. I woke up in the lobby, sleeping on the comfortable leather couch.

I fled the dental clinic. I wanted to run, wanted to hide but there was no one pursuing me.

When I woke up in my bed the next morning, I wished that everything had just been a bad dream, but the toothache was gone and a quick look in mirror confirmed that I had a new inlay. In my wallet, I found a handwritten note. It said "Work starts 8.00 am, don't be late!" signed: "Alice".