Office Politics

By DX
Copyrighted 2/2007, 2024 all rights reserved.

 Lucille leaned back in her chair with a happy sigh as a smug grin of satisfaction spread across her face. She admired the stark, white walls of her new office as she made plans for the money from her salary raise to decorate them. With her new position, she would be able to afford a lot more things.

 She peered through her open door and watched Kimberly make her rounds. Lucille smiled devilishly, then forced the expression from her face. She scanned her desk quickly, snatched up a blank piece of paper, stuffed it into an inter-office envelope and sealed it up.

 "Kimmy," She called cooly. "might I see you in my office?"

 The blonde girl nodded, parking her mail cart by the door. "Yeah, Luce?"

 Lucille's face darkened slightly. "Kimmy, it is inappropriate to address management in such a familiar tone."

 Kimberly pursed her lips as she thought. "I'll keep that in mind in case I meet any management, Luce."

 Lucille sniffed contemptuously. "Kimmy, I realize that we've had a bit of history together, but I must impress upon you to remember that I did receive the promotion over you." Lucille interlaced her fingers, her long, lacquered fingernails of blood forming a row of spikes. "I am your superior and I will be treated as such." Her voice bit vehemently, then softened. "Don't make my first act to be reprimanding you."

 The blonde girl scoffed. "The only reason you got the promotion is because I could not make the review board in time."

 Lucille straightened, stung. "If the position meant anything to you, you would have made the effort to show up." Her voice dripped with venom.

 "My car broke down." Kimberly's voice leveled, accusingly. "The plug from my oil pan mysteriously vanished and my engine seized. By time I was able to get a cab, I was too late for the board."

 Lucille's face dropped, looking innocent. "Well, I know nothing about cars or engines, but you should have allotted yourself more time..."

 "Know nothing about cars or engines?" Kimberly rebuked quickly, hotly. "We took auto-shop together in college. You got an 'A'!"

 Lucille sat back in her chair, clearly unnerved. "I don't know what you're trying to infer, but the bottom line is that I got the job." She leaned back in her seat, her smile and confidence returning. "And if you want to get anywhere on the corporate ladder, you should show a little respect." Lucille's eyes darkened like a praying mantis considering its prey. "Perhaps you should learn a little about office politics. Making an enemy out of me isn't a good start."

 Kimberly laughed breathlessly. "Sure, Luce. Is there something you wanted?"

 Lucille had almost forgotten. She snatched up the inter-office mail and held it out. "Take this to Diane in accounting right away." She ordered, her smugness returning.

 "Sure thing, Luce." Kimberly took the envelope. "Enjoy it while you can."

 Lucille flinched as her smug expression drained. "What's that supposed to mean?"

 "Oh, I'm sure you've heard that Steve in acquisitions is retiring this month." Kimberly said, offhandedly.

 "Of course I heard about that," She hadn't. "but isn't that an executive position?"

 Kimberly nodded, looking about the tiny office. "And his office has a window." Kimberly smiled at her boss. "With a view."

 Lucille's eyes focused threateningly. "What makes you think you'll get that position?"

 Kimberly frowned slightly, pouting as she thought. "For starters, I am qualified for the job. Secondly, Dan is doing the interview personally." Kimberly gave herself a little hug, making her breasts bulge. "And you know he can't resist a little cleavage."

 Lucille scowled as he face drained of pallor. "Well, I think it will take a little more than a C cup to make him give you the job."

 "Actually, they're a D, and I've got that covered."

 Lucille leaned forward, her brow arching suspiciously. "What, are you getting a boob job?"

 The blonde smiled scandalously. "A little office politic campaigning."

 "Really?" Lucille sat up. "And how can you afford plastic surgery on your meager salary?"

 Kimberly's face lit up as she leaned in close, her voice lowered. "You know Michelle up in personnel?"

 Lucille sensed hot gossip and was drawn in like a shark to blood. Everyone knew Michelle. She was a tall goddess in killer pumps whose fashion model looks could enslave men with a glance. She could be on the runway as a super model save that her massive breasts and juicy curves would not fit in the anorexic world of modeling. Lucille had watched her like every woman, with loathe and envy. "Michelle had plastic surgery?" She whispered.

 Kimberly snorted a laugh. "She used to be a man!"

 "No way!"

 "Yes way. Her doctor is this guy up from Brazil. He's doing low budget procedures because he hasn't gotten his license in this country yet." Kimberly smiled, coyly. "So, he's going to add a cup to my chest and smooth out some lines. He says he can take five to seven years off my face."

 "Take seven years off your face and you'll look like you're fourteen." Lucille mumbled sardonically.

 "We're talking Dan here. Fourteen's a little old for him." Kimberly rose and turned, showing her profile. "A little lypo here," She laid her hand on her already flat tummy. "and a little added back here for some nice curve," She patted her rump. "and Dan will be a blithering idiot." Kimberly regarded Lucille in the suddenly silence. "You know, you could stand to have a little work done and smooth out those Crow's Feet."

 Lucille's hand reflexively shot up to the corner of her eye, almost trying to hide. She managed a weak smile. "I prefer to earn my promotions on merit."

 Kimberly breathed a silent, mocking laugh. "That would be a change in tactics for you." She looked around the stark, plain office walls. "That'll get you right to the top, I’m sure.” She held up the envelope Lucille gave her to deliver. "Since I'm leaving early today, I'll be sure to get this to accounting before I leave. My procedure is tomorrow morning at six."

 "All that in one day?"

 Kimberly shrugged. "It's not all that. Besides, the man is good."

 "A miracle worker."

 "Ha, ha." Kimberly said, dryly. "I'll be on three weeks vacation time to recover, and then my interview with Dan will be right after that." She smiled brightly. "See you around, Luce."

 Lucille sneered more than smiled and gave a half wave as Kimberly left. Lucille picked up the phone to look busy, pretending Kimberly’s taunt fell on deaf ears. Once the blonde was out of sight, Lucille hung up the phone, her eyes dark and brooding. A small smile crept onto her lips as she picked up the phone again.

 "Hello, Michelle? This is Lucille! Lucille from downstairs. Yes, that Lucille. You know I just recalled that I owe you a lunch. Yes, I'm sure. What say I even the score. I can meet you downstairs at Noon. Yes, yes, I owe you a lunch, I'm very sure. We should get to know each other. Besides, why turn down a free lunch?"

 Dawn had yet to cast its gentle light on the darkened street. The tall shadowy buildings rose like fortress walls, their forlorn, cracked and broken windows gazing silently down to the vacant lot below.

 Lucille shuddered as she parked her car beneath the only working light in the parking lot. As she stepped from the security of her car, she glanced around nervously. Her car, old and well used looked pristine compared to the other cars in the lot. She locked it, then checked that it was locked, then made her way quickly across the lot to the dark door. She had pumped Michelle for information to the point of using subtle threats of exposing her past as a man. Michelle reluctantly gave Lucille directions to The Miracle Worker.

 "Talk about your back door surgeries." Lucille mumbled as she reached for the bell. She hesitated, wondering if what she was doing was worth it. She set her lips and pressed the greasy button. Earlier that morning, Lucille snuck over to Kimberly's apartment and put a nick in the brake lines of her car. With the steep hills in that neighborhood, Kimmy was going to need a little more than plastic surgery. 

 Lucille sighed sharply. She was in deep now.

 She flinched and yelped as the door buzzed angrily at her. Trying to slow her quickly beating heart, she pushed open the door and stepped into the darkness beyond. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the gloom. She stepped forward and found the elevator. As the door slid open, the stench of urine assaulted her. The elevator rattled like a haunted house as it climbed up, then opened to a shadowy hall.

 Fear clutched her heart as she walked down the dimly lit hall to the double doors at the end. There was no sign, no indication that this rat infested building was anything of a clinic. Lucille again hesitated at the door as the idea of sterile conditions came to mind.

 "A healthy dose of penicillin can handle any infection." She whispered as she reached for the dented and pitted door knob.

 The door swung open easily and Lucille blinked, blinded by the bright light. When she could see, she took in the warm, fresh painted walls and breathed in the clean air scented with antiseptic.

 Behind the glass desk, typing on her laptop, the receptionist peered up. "Senorita Kimberly?"

 Lucille was stunned silent by the woman's youth and beauty. Her friendly, but exotic dark eyes, sculpted full lips and delicate chin were captivating. She could never be a model. She was too pretty to look at. No one would pay any attention to any product she was selling.

 "May I help you?" The woman asked again.

 Lucille was jolted from her revery. "Ah, si, yes, I am Kimberly." Michelle had told her that everything was done through phone calls and e-mails. Lucille gambled that the doctor would have no idea what Kimberly looked like so posing would be easy.

 The receptionist held out a clip board. "Please fill these out and sign here. Your payment has already been processed."

 Lucille grinned as she took a seat and filled out the form using Kimberly's name, but used her own medical history and allergies. With that done, Lucille was escorted to another room, not as pretty as the reception area, where a nurse in full surgical scrubs and mask greeted her and gave her a gown to put on. Lucille tried to catch a glimpse of the woman. She was blonde with lovely blue eyes, but her mask covered everything else.

 The nurse took Lucille's clothes away as the doctor came in. He chittered quickly in Spanish and Lucille assumed he wanted her naked. When she opened her gown, the doctor took a marker and drew on her body where he was going to cut. He then sketched lines on her face. Lucille realized that Kimberly was having more than just a minor procedure done.

 As the doctor finished, the blonde nurse wheeled in a gurney and motioned for Lucille to lay down. The doctor then swabbed Lucille's arm and gave her a shot. He then put an intravenous shunt into her arm. The nurse wheeled Lucille into the operating theater.

 Large lights hovered over head, blinding Lucille. Trays and tables covered in green cloth surrounded her. Hoses and tubes sprang from everywhere. Lucille was wheeled into the center of it all.

 The nurse said something in Spanish, and Lucille, nervousness building, nodded dumbly. The nurse smiled beneath her mask. "No Espanol?"

 "Uh, I took it in highschool a few years ago." Actually, she had cheated off of Kimberly.

 The nurse nodded, understanding. "The shot the doctor gave you is a sedative. It will make you very sleepy. This procedure requires full anesthesia."

 Lucille did feel sleepy and her limbs grew heavy. She watched submissively as the nurse ran straps across her wrists. As she strapped her feet down, the nurse explained, "Can't risk you sleep walking." The nurse stood back and glanced through the open door. "The doctor is scrubbing up and the anesthesiologist will be here in a minute." The nurse looked down at Lucille, patting her hand reassuringly. "Just relax, Kimberly, the doctor is very experienced in this type of surgery. Although you have chosen a very extensive and extreme procedure, the doctor is confident you will be pleased with the results."

 The words, extreme and extensive pushed a spike in Lucille's mind. What did Kimberly sign up for?

 The nurse moved a tray over. "These breast implants are imported. This country will not allow any this big to be used." Lucille blinked, fighting the affects of the sedative as she looked at two grey, lucid plastic forms the size and shape of beach balls. Lucille tried to speak but with the sedative in her system, she could only moan.

 The nurse patted her arm gently. "Oh, don't worry. These are not your implants." Lucille breathed a sigh of relief. "These are only to stretch the skin." The nurse went on, pulling back another cloth revealing two massive bags of silicone, sparkling in the light. "These will be your permanent implants, the finest and highest quality I might add. It should give you the ninety inch bust line that you requested."

 Lucille's eyes grew wide as plates. Ninety inches!

 "Now, I know you were thinking bigger," The nurse went on, "But I think that after we remove some of your ribs," The nurse pointed to Lucille's side where the doctor had marked. "and several yards of your small intestine and most of your stomach and large intestine, and bring your waist size down to a fourteen, your breasts will look sensational."

 Lucille tried to struggle, but the sedative was at full effect. Kimberly had signed up to be a freak!

 The nurse held up a tray with a silicone doughnut. "These will be your lip implants. I can't imagine how you'll be able to talk after this, but it is what you ordered.”  She shrugged.  “Your teeth will be removed, and your jaw pinned open.”  She looked at markings on Lucille.  “And your vagina?  Crazy!  Utterly gone.  You will be incapable of experiencing pleasure ever again.”

 "Stop," Lucille struggled to talk, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm not Kimberly." Every word was a struggle but she forced back the effects of the drug. "It's a mistake."

 Lucille looked up as another man, swabbed in surgical scrubs came in.

 "Stop," She moaned. "Please, don't do this."

 "Que?" He asked and the nurse answered him in Spanish. The man nodded and gave Lucille a thumbs up. "All okay!" He said as he picked up the black rubber anesthesia mask and strapped it to Lucille's face.

 "Just breathe normally." The nurse instructed.

 Lucille tried to protest as the world swirled into darkness. "No, wait," Her voice was muffled by the mask.

 The nurse leaned in close and whispered into Lucille's ear. "Perhaps you should not have cheated off me during Spanish class."

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Copyrighted 2/2007, 10/2024 all rights reserved. 

Used with permission, Gag Order.

The Dark

By DX

Copyrighted, 6/2003, all rights reserved.

Story may not be reproduced electronically or otherwise without author's written consent.

A man wakes and discovers he's locked in a bondage chair, in a vault, with no light or sound. Everyday he is milked for his seed by his tormentor and angel.  He doesn't know why. Worse, she demands he do better, or face a more horrible, unknown fate.
Can he escape? Erotic horror!
bodymod, male hucow, penectomy, milking, bondage, torture!

"In the dark I had no concept of the passage of time. It was maddening. Strapped in the chair unable to move a muscle, I could only wait until she came, my torturer. 

“Most men wouldn't think of it as torture. Most men would enjoy having this ravaging beauty with soft, delicate hands and gentle enchanting voice to visit them. For me, it only added to my feeling of helplessness. My despair.

"I was a normal guy, living a normal life, when they came to my apartment, took me down with stun-guns and chloroform and carted me off to the dark. I was scrubbed raw with antiseptic, pasted with electric pads and sensors, sealed in a thick, latex cat-suit and strapped into the chair. It was more of a frame than chair, really. Straps around my ankles, below and above my knees, thighs, across my stomach, my chest, my wrists, forearms, biceps, neck and forehead. If that weren't enough, there were straps over my shoulders attached to the strap across my chest. My head was sealed in a latex helmet, my breathing channeled through long rubber hoses snaking off behind my head somewhere. My view of the world, such as it was, was through two tiny goggles. My mouth was packed with a fat, spongy ball with a tube that on a timed schedule force fed me a disgusting soup that kept me hydrated and nutritioned.

"Only my manhood was exposed. It hung in the empty space where the chair seat should be. My legs were secured wide apart leaving me completely exposed. My wastes were only liquid and simply went down the drain set up just for that. I would sometimes pee just so I could have its tinkling sound to entertain me.

"My muscles twitched to the electric pad's eclectic rhythm that kept my limbs from atrophy. Their pain was random so I never became accustomed to it, and although the current was slight, when there is no other sensory input, its tiny pin pricks soon grew from a mere annoyance, to excruciating.

"Only darkness, pain and discomfort. 

“It became my horrible existence. I desperately willed myself to die. 

“I could not. I could only sit, and wait.

"For her.

"Once a day, perhaps ten times a day, I don't know, she came. Light filled my tiny chamber as she swung open the heavy steel door. I was in a tiny room, just big enough for my chair; grey, concrete walls and floor with a steel vaulted door— as if I could escape the chair.

“When my eyes adjusted to the light and I could see, she would be there, smiling, her eyes filled with stars, her cheeks adorned with dimples. Her lips, soft, sweet succulent lips, cooing and purring for me, so happy to see me. She always wore blood red glistening lipstick, to match her blood red glistening latex body suit and her amazingly tight, breath stealing corset. She walked easily on her arch breaking high heeled leather ballet shoes.

"Her hair, like black wet tar, was pulled back tightly against her head and spewed from the top of her head in a long single braid that almost touched the ground. Her long lashes slowly fanned her sapphire eyes; sharp, wintery eyes that could cut through flesh, down to the bone with only a glance.

"'How are we?' She would ask. Her voice like cough syrup, sweet, a little fruity, and a lingering bite that bubbled within you. She would fuss over me as she checked my hoses and tubes, leaning her breasts so close, I could imagine her perfume. Her glacier eyes peering deep into mine, making sure she had my complete attention. It was then she brought in her milking stool and set it before me. She would settle herself before me, and with a ruler and calipers, carefully measure my cock and balls, noting it carefully in her little diary.

"Once this was done, she'd look up, her eyes peering devilishly from behind her fan of lashes as she poured the lubricant into her rubber gloved hands.

"Soft as a whisper, so slight, so gentle and sensation deprived as I was, it was like a lighting strike. She would shush my grunts, and moan sensually, as if she could feel my wonderful passion as she worked me in her hands. I could feel my soul draining into her touch, building to her oh so delectable, feathery strokes. Just the tips of her fingers, tantalizing, tempting, teasing, taking forever to do the job. Letting the wave grow.

"Eternity passes and I am frothing, my eyes threatening to fall back into my head, shivering, shuddering, thrashing into my unyielding fetters before she smiles and lets the tsunami hit. 'Oooo! What a good boy!' She says as she catches my fluids in a beaker, teasing every last drop. She holds it up and checks its level, color, texture, then after she notes it in her log, corks the bottle and puts it into her little carrier. There are others, I guess, somewhere. She never mentions them, or anyone, for that matter. As if she and I are the last people on Earth. Assuming I am still on Earth. But I know that I am not her only client, her only prisoner.

"I can only watch helplessly as she packs up her stuff, blows me a kiss, then leaves, closing the heavy door behind her, throwing me back into darkness. After she throws the many locks, properly securing my prison, there is only silence.

"And waiting until she returns.

"How much time passes, how many times we have done this, I don't know. Months, years? But after uncountable sessions, she looks up to me with disappointed eyes. 'You're going to have to do better.' She blows me a kiss and leaves me in the dark. Do better? What that means, I have no idea. On subsequent visits, she smiles sadly, looking at my offering in her beaker. 'You have to let yourself go, let the medicine work.' Something in the soup they pump into me I guess. 'If you don't pick up, you'll be...' She seems truly frightened, glancing around, whispering as if someone will hear. 'You'll be re-assigned.'"

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Copyrighted 6/2003, 12/2023, all rights reserved.