Sir took me into the building and my jaw dropped. There were dozens of desks to our left, all manned by people in businesswear; men and women in grey suits who were talking to each other, writing documents, filing things. To our right were some chairs, like some kind of waiting room; there were people milling about. In front of us was a desk with a receptionist, and behind her was a corridor towards the back.
Then there was me, the naked chick with her hands tied behind her back and a leash around her neck. I found myself wondering what these people would look like naked. Their bodies - their genitals - were a mystery to me, while mine were on display.
I felt subdued.
"Hey, big dog!" A man walked up to us. His hair was short and slicked back, and his suit was even finer than many walking through the room. He barely glanced at me. "Dropping this little brat off?"
"Nah, I'm going to process her," said the Catcher. He smiled with a warm intimacy. He had never spoken to me this way; in fact, he hadbn't spoken to anyone like this. He liked this man.
"Oh, unlucky for her. Are you stabling her afterwards?"
"Yep. Did you want to hang out tonight?"
"Hell yeah, brother. My ENF is stabled right now."
Processing? Stabling? What do these terms mean? What I did know was that my humiliation had found a different expression. Not only was I left out of the loop, I was being talked about as if I were an object to be shuffled around.
Let's face it, that's what I am. I looked down as they talked - chastised, self-pitying, humiliated. Two professional men in a room full of professionals, walking around like people with jobs and places to go, and here I was; a naked lady who had to do exactly what she was told. I didn't want to draw any more attention than I already was. The very thought of being spanked in this environment terrified me.
Eventually, they said their goodbyes, and the Catcher pulled me over to the receptionist desk.
"Hello, sir," she said. "What do you need today?"
"I'm processing Erica Broadchurch," he said.
She looked up at me. She looked directly at my breasts! Do they keep a lesbian on staff or something? She then looked down at her notes. "Room 7 is free. Alexa is already in there with a trainee."
"Excellent," he said. "Come along, Erica."
I sped forward to keep up as he strode forward. We walked down to the end of the hall. At the very end was a door marked STABLE. The Catcher and his friend had talked about 'stabling'. I shuddered to think what was behind there. There was a door to our left marked PROCESSING.
He opened it, revealing another corridor - this one full of doors, each numbered. He took me into room 7. It was a small room with a kind of cage at the centre. There was a woman and a young man; she was older and wearing a colourful suit, with pink-coloured hair. The young man was dressed very simiarly to the Catcher.
"Ah, he's here!" said the woman. "Young man, this is the professional I was telling you about. He's the best in the business. You can learn a lot from him - discipline, self-control, the right spanking technique."
"It's good to see you, Alexa," said the Catcher, pulling me along. "Our subject today is Erica Broadchurch."
"Oh, aren't you gorgeous! I'm a big fan of redheads, and that's a beautiful tattoo."
