here is a little story about dressing to impress, even when you think there’s no real reason to.
Simon Says –
Nadya slipped her hands through the armholes of the nurse’s dress, one those form-fitting kinds with the button-up fronts. It seemed kind of old-fashioned but that was the uniform she had been given and her name had already been embroidered on it above the left sternum pocket. This was a good sign, one that made her feel a bit more at ease. Maybe this facility would keep her on and not drop her for the next higher-qualified candidate who came along. But right away, her first impression of these care employers was that they were traditional. Along with a wrap-around and button-up nurse’s dress, Nadya was given one of those stiff, white nurse’s cap, the kind that often had to be held in place with bobby pins. She hadn’t brought any nylons with her and hoped the powers-that-be wouldn’t be offended. Stepping into her white clogs, she smiled a little, softly laughing at the thought of some really old guy in a doctor’s coat telling her how inappropriate it was that she wasn’t wearing leggings of some sort to cover her calves. Oh, Heaven forbid. And their old-school minds would certainly explode inside their skulls if she told them that she sometimes wore a sports bra instead of the usual kind. Oh, deary me.
Attaching the cap to the top of her head and using the bobby pins provided (a sign that these people understood that no one had bobby pins readily on hand anymore), she looked at herself in the mirror. The truth of the matter was that the nature of the job would be anything but traditional. There would be no old guy in a doctor’s coat and the reasoning behind this traditional nurse’s get-up was so that she would look good. Needless to say, there were likely a few perverts in the uniform department, but Nadya really didn’t care. This wouldn’t be the first job she had where people stared at her chest before they looked her in the eyes. And quite honestly, after a while, that sort of greeting could be taken as a compliment. She simply had to let it go, accepting that there were far more important things in this world to take up a battle flag over.
Buttoning up the front of her dress, she stood tall and squared her shoulders away as she evened and plumped her chest. Then, she opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the adjoining room. It was a typical, basic hospital room – nothing fancy like an ICU room, but nevertheless, holding all the usual sights. There was an adjustable bed, a television mounted on the wall on the other side, a privacy curtain, one of those rolly-poley lunch tables, a small nurse’s station, quite a few pieces of monitoring equipment behind the bed, a dresser, five chairs for visitors and a lackluster view of the outside from a window with Venetian blinds that were older than sin itself.
Despite its less-than-lavish appearance, the room seemed quite full to Nadya. The hospitals back in Greece were far less luxurious and equipped, doing away with every possible expense in order to save money. This was pretty much the theme of the entire country. And as Greece entered into bankruptcy not too terribly long ago, they began to cut jobs in all fields of work. Unemployed and still holding a rather impressive resume, Nadya decided to make the trip and relocation to America – the land that was still flushed with opportunity – all these generations later, despite its own financial woes.
It really didn’t take her long to get a green card and then to become declared as a landed alien. After bouncing around from place to place for a short while, here she was … standing in a hospital room and dressed to the medical 9s, so to say.
She was happy to have made it to America and she knew how lucky she was to have been selected for this job. She would never take that for granted. But the interview process was long and grueling. Greece at least made it a painless process to get employed, but Greece also made it impossible to stay employed for long. In America, however, when you put in the effort and the work, your chances of sticking around were pretty good.
Today was her on-the-job orientation. It would be a short first day, but an informative one. Above and beyond that, she would be meeting her supervisor and first impressions would be made. Looking up at the corners of the ceiling, she saw a camera in each. America certainly took things seriously. And why shouldn’t they? In fact, she wouldn’t have been surprised to see an entire camera crew in the room. That’s what this was all about, right? That’s what this industry required. There would always be people watching her. And she knew that if she screwed up, there would be a new pretty girl to take her place tomorrow. There were that many people looking for work.
Nadya walked up to the window and peaked out through the blinds. In her right hand, she held that mighty impressive resume that had opened quite a few doors for her already. Still in her 20s, she had worked for several companies but this was the first time she ever had to wear to traditional nurse’s wrap dress and cap. Her turnover of employment hadn’t always been from matters out of her hands, like Greece’s national bankruptcy. Sometimes, she moved on to the next place on her own accord, pursuing more money when the offers came in. This particular facility wasn’t one in a major city in America, but rather, in a small town. There was quaintness to it and surprisingly, they paid better than a lot of their major urban competitors.
A noise at the door startled her attention back to the room she was in and a gentleman appeared at the glass of the door. He held a cell phone to his ear and was turning away from the room. So she couldn’t make out his face, but he definitely wasn’t old and he was tall. Oh my goodness, he was tall. This was another bonus of the American relocation … tall men. In Europe as a whole, they must not have eaten their Wheaties as boys. And whenever Nadya wore heels, she would always become eye-to-eye with her dates, if not taller than them. Tall men were good. She liked them tall.
Holding her resume firmly, she placed her heels together, folded her hands in front of her, straightened her shoulders, faced the door and lowered her chin slightly. She didn’t want to come off as overly- confident as a first impression given, but she also didn’t want to come off as being scared. Respectful and cautious seemed safe.
Then the man turned the door knob and walked in, slipping his cell phone into the left breast pocket of his white doctor’s coat before walking over to her and looking her directly in her eyes.
“Nadya … Katsaros,” he said with a deep timbre and a smile, as he extended his right hand to her. “Kat-sah-rows. Am I pronouncing that correctly?”
“Yes,” Nadya said with a beautiful wide smile as she shook his hand.
“I’m Doctor Simon,” he said, motioning for her to take a seat in one of the visitor’s chairs. “I take it your name is of Grecian origin?”
“Yes and I have lived there all my life, until a few month ago,” she answered, handing him her resume and sitting down.
“Yeah, I don’t gather there’s much work there these days,” he said, looking at her resume as he pulled a chair around to face her, then sitting in it.
The hello chit-chat came to a sudden end and the room got quiet as he began to read her resume more thoroughly. Her heart pounded inside her chest – which was a bit alarming to her as she hadn’t been nervous at any interview in years. But this one seemed to have started with a great promise, the initial promise being that Doctor Simon wasn’t ugly or disgusting. And he wore no wedding ring, information she collected by having handed her resume to him with her left hand – making him take it with his left hand.
Crossing her legs, she kept her posture upright while reliving the fact that he had looked her in her eyes, not at her breasts. And quite honestly, she quietly cheered and booed this fact, at the same time. Even when he sat in a chair, he was taller than her and he had this black hair that looked so thick she wanted to run her fingers through it to see how truly thick it was, indeed. But modesty and decency prevailed through her impulsive wiles, keeping her still and quiet until he next spoke.
“This is a really remarkable bit of work you’ve done,” Doctor Simon said honestly, looking up for her resume.
“Thank you,” Nadya replied sweetly, wondering when the real orientation would begin.
“Does everything in the room seem familiar to you?” Doctor Simon asked. “Is there anything that you have a question about at the moment?”
“No,” Nadya replied, looking around the room again and shaking her head no.
“Good,” Doctor Simon said, setting her resume aside. “I was hoping to get into those explanations at another time. Today, on the other hand, I wanted to make personal.”
“Personal?” Nadya asked, uncertain of what he meant.
“Nadya, a lot of resumes come across my desk and based on work records, a lot those people are qualified for this job,” he said, folding his hands and resting his chin on them as he placed his elbows on the arms rests of the chair. “But it doesn’t mean that they’re right for this job.”
“Ah,” Nadya said, understanding him immediately. “You want to get to know the kind of person I am.”
“Exactly,” he said with a warm smile.
This was a rather pleasant conversation and one she didn’t expect to have with him. Other people she interviewed for simply eyeballed her up-n-down from head-to-toe and then told her they would review her resume and call her if interested.
“Do you understand how the chain of command works?” he asked, respectfully but authoritatively.
“Yes, I do, Doctor Simon,” Nadya replied, a small twinkle forming in her eyes.
“Well, here the chain of command begins with me and me alone. I am in charge and I expect my subordinates to listen to me. We are in the business of making life better for people,” he stated, matter-of-factly. “So many people come to me looking for work and then when I hire them, they try to take over the company … or at least that’s what their behavior makes me believe.”
“I promise you, Doctor Simon, I will not try to wear your pants,” Nadya smiled with a small laugh, uncrossing her legs. “So what is my place here? And if you would not mind, could you put me in it so I understand my limits?”
Doctor Simon smiled, scooting his chair back and standing up. Her honesty was refreshing, as was her innocence.
“I knew you’d understand,” he said kindly, extending his hands to her and helping her to stand up.
He walked over to the small nurse’s station in the corner and opened one of the cabinet doors – taking something out. Nadya looked up at the cameras in the corners of the ceiling. She could see the red lights on the fronts of them. They were recording all of this.
“What do you think is the most important thing you can say to me?” he asked, turning around and folding his arms in front of himself.
“Umm … Good Morning, Doctor?” she asked, then smiling brightly as she had no idea what the correct answer was.
“Well, you were partially right,” he said, then summoning her with a finger to walk over to him.
Keeping her chin lowered slightly, she walked over to him – only lifting her eyes up to him when he raised her chin.
“The most important thing to say to me every day is …,” Doctor Simon said, his eyes gazing down at her with power they didn’t have before. “ …Yes, Doctor. ….. Why don’t you practice saying that for me?”
Nadya’s eyes glistened with intrigue. What on Earth was he doing?
“Yes …… Doctor,” she whispered with a sweetness that usually melted any guy’s heart.
“Try it again, but with no hesitation at all this time,” he said.
“Yes, Doctor,” she said, even more sweetly and with a slight pout to her tone, driving at a playful fussiness.
“Very good,” he said with a nurturing and supportive tone, making her tingle a little in all the right places. “Now, I want you to keep saying it until I get tired of hearing it. Begin.”
“Yes, Doctor. Yes, Doctor. Yes, Doctor. Yes, Doctor,” she said softly, over and over.
Then he unfolded his arms, revealing the tongue depressor in his hand. Placing his right thumb on the front of her chin and his right pointer finger underneath it, he lowered her jaw. Putting the tongue depressor in her mouth and flattening her tongue, he reached into his coat pocket and took out a tiny flashlight, shining it into the back of her throat as she continued to follow his previous instruction.
“Yeth, Dawk-tuh. Yeth, Dawk-tuh. Yeth, Dawk-tuh. Yeth, Dawk-tuh,” she mumbled, feeling the gaze of supremacy from his eyes.
He slid the depressor further back on her tongue and held it there, his gaze strengthening in intensity as she felt her will power being challenged. She wanted to look up at the camera in the corner above him, hoping that it was on, but luckily with her peripheral vision, she could see the little red light on the front of it and didn’t need to look away from him.
“Good girl,” he whispered, taking the tongue depressor out of her mouth and lifting her jaw up to stop her from speaking. “Now, I’m certain you can understand why a good general physical health is required of all of my employees.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Nadya whispered with her sweetest and weakest tone yet, her heart pounding more heavily than ever.
Walking her back to the middle of the room, he had her holding her arms straight out from her sides. She looked up at cameras again. Were they really watching this?
“Do you have a mammogram done every year?” he asked, reaching around from behind her and groping her breasts through the front of her wrap-around dress.
“Yes, Doctor,” she said, nearly inaudible as she closed her eyes and swallowed a lump in her throat.
“And what results have those mammograms yielded?” he asked, pinching either of her breasts by the sides and squeezing them as his thumbs massaged a feel.
This was harassment, plain and simple. And maybe Nadya would’ve run out of that room just then, straight to authorities and spilling the beans on Doctor Simon’s behavior. The only problem was: he was in charge and though she was declared a landed alien, the conditions of her stay in America required that she remain employed at least nine months out of every year. She really needed this job. And besides, it was hard to view what he was doing as harassment – especially since she was enjoying it.
“Nadya?” he asked, cupping her breast and evening them out after he was done groping. “What results did those mammograms yield?”
“That I have two breasts,” Nadya said, smiling. “ … that are cancer-free.”
“Good. When was your last OB/GYN appointment?” he asked, turning her around to face him.
Her face, flush with a reddish hue already, blushed just a bit more as she imagined him inspecting her down there next. This definitely was a personal interview. But he made no advances to go up under her dress, instead lowering her arms back down to her sides.
“About three months ago,” Nadya answered. “And everything is fine down there, as well.”
“Good,” he said with a sly smile. “That’s very important, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Doctor,” she whispered with a breathy tone, uncertain of what else to say.
“You’re beautiful, Nadya. Are you single?” he asked, his left eye brow rising with flirtation.
“Yes, Doctor,” Nadya whispered, smiling through her flustered, blushing state.
“I have a few suggestions for you,” he said, turning her to the side so the traces of sunlight trickling in through the venetian blinds would shine on her. “Use Earth tone shades of eye shadow with that cat eye flick at the corners of your eyes.”
Her eyes widened. That was a fairly competent suggestion. At other jobs when her make-up was critiqued, she was usually insulted for wearing so much make-up that she looked like a clown or so little of an amount of make-up that it hardly drew her facial features out at all.
Doctor Simon was becoming more and more interesting by the minute.
“Make your eyelashes curl so that they bat when you blink. I love eyeliner, but keep it to a thin line. Thin to win,” he said next, his left hand caressing the side of her face.
Then both of his hands unfastened the top two buttons of her dress, her breasts pushing outward slightly and filling in the freeing space of no longer being confined. And as she breathed in deeply, enjoying the less restrictive feel, her frame relaxed a little, putting a greater smile on her face and happiness to her posture.
“There ya go,” he said softly and supportively, making her tingle again. “Look how happy you become, just by showing a little more cleavage.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Nadya said with a small voice, not having expected any of this to happen, but strangely being overjoyed that it had.
“Beyond your attentiveness to what they need, you’re eye candy for the people you will take care of. And they’ll dream about you at night, if you do this job right,” Doctor Simon said, brushing back the strands of her hair that had fallen to the sides of her face. “And by dreaming about you at night, they’ll feel better – at least for a little while. Then the next day, you make them feel good again. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Doctor,” Nadya whispered, becoming lost in his eyes and in his attentiveness to those little details about her that no employer ever took time to notice or help her with.
My, oh my. Doctor Simon was a smooth criminal and she, his willing victim. He was sardonic yet attractive, authoritative yet consoling and his voice alone could make her shudder whenever he wanted her to – not to forget to mention his electric blue eyes.
“We’re going to play a game now,” Doctor Simon said, Nadya eagerly nodding her approval and hoping it was something similar to the games he had already played with her. “Though it’s a game, it’s designed to help you learn your responsibilities. Have you ever played Simon Says?”
“Yes, Doctor,” she whispered, feeling the slightest bit of arousal between her legs.
Nadya stood in the center of the room, the sunlight beams bleeding in through the Venetian blinds and cascading down onto her. She was beautiful and though well-traveled, she still had certain innocence about herself, within her posture and within her eyes. It was clear, as if she had been kept that way her whole life and, knowing nothing different, had no understanding of what existed beyond her comfort zone.
“Simon says: Take the cap off,” he stated, turning a chair to face her and taking a seat. “That’s a good girl. Take all those bobby pins out.”
Nadya slowly pulled the pins out of her cap, freeing it from her hair and setting it on the chair behind her.
“Now feather your hair out,” he said, Nadya beginning to lay her locks across her shoulders. “Ah, ah, ah. Simon didn’t say to do that.”
Nadya’s eyes grew big-n-wide. His gaze spoke volumes of how breaking the rules of the game would yield some sort of penalty other than being made to sit out the rest of it. But he gave no further clues to the meaning displayed in his irises. It was a nerve-wracking moment, but also a thought-provoking one. She gazed up at the cameras again to see all the red lights were still on. And she began to wonder if those watching were enjoying the show.
“You get one mistake and one mistake only for free,” Doctor Simon said with a look of seriousness in his eyes, Nadya locking her knees to prevent from going weak in them.
Oh, that was hot. He was hot. This whole thing was … hot. And she could foresee every day of working for him as being a constant blur of dizzying arousal. For as inappropriate as that thought seemed, it was as natural of a reaction as could be to his methods of orientation. Why else would he do this? Why else would he treat her this way? And if she were to have become bold, kneeling in front of him, pulling his pants down and gripping what she found, she would see his rock-hard determination to break her and remold her into exactly who Simon said she was supposed to be.
“Simon says: Feather your hair out,” he stated, Nadya finishing the shoulder lay of her locks. “Now … Simon says: Arch your lower back, ever-so-slightly.”
Nadya turned her hands down, placing her thumbs on either side of the front of her rib cage and her fingers on the back of her rib cage. She straightened her posture a little, sinking the lower lumbar region of her spine inward and arching it.
“People react to our posture,” Doctor Simon stated as she turned to the side and looked at herself in the wall mirror across the room. “If we slouch, people don’t tend to listen to us as well. They become too relaxed with us to take us as seriously as we need to be taken.”
Nadya paused to think about what he was saying. It made a lot of sense and she thought back to instances in her life when she wanted someone to listen to her very carefully. At those moments, she carried herself with grace.
“It gives you a feeling of pride and purpose as well,” he stated. “Simon says: Heave your chest out and straighten your shoulders.”
Holding her hands in the same position, she pulled her shoulders back as her chest pushed forward, filling the partially-unbuttoned front of her dress to a tightness.
“Always use your resources,” he said, smiling as he took his first real look at her chest. “You have endowment that not only needs to be displayed but should lead you, wherever you go. Simon Says: Unfasten one more button.”
Nadya looked down at her cleavage, unfastening the top button still joined. Her cleavage spilled out further, her cups pressing against the material of her dress, the lacy edges of her bra now coming into view.
“Don’t ever hold yourself back,” he said, a deeper timbre resonating from his voice. “Simon says: Show me your nipples.”
Nadya looked up at him and then up to the cameras. Her tummy became flustered and her face went flush. Keeping her knees locked to remain upright, she watched her hands helplessly move up to either of her lapels – absent of free will and incapable of resisting her own exposure. Had Doctor Simon broken her already? Was she completely within his control? She hadn’t even noticed the change, but maybe that was the point of this orientation – to make her disoriented.
Wrapping her fingers around the edge of the lapels and the lacy inside edges of both cups of her bra, she pulled all the material downward and slightly to her sides. Her breasts spilled out, her nipples hardened already from the effects of his treatment of her as well as the mind game of having lost free will to fight.
“That’s a good girl,” he said softly, his sweetness melting any remaining self-volitions within her as she began to tingle at thoughts of what he would make her do next.
The features of her face – her eyes, her lips, her forehead – all softened and looked to him for guidance, seeing him as someone far more important than just a boss. She was captive to something she didn’t understand but knew that she wanted.
“Simon says: …,” he stated, pausing to allow her mind to experience further implosion of self. “… Roll your nipples.”
Nadya locked her knees harder, her breath picking up to a point of audible sound. Her heartbeat pounded inside her rising-n-lowering heaved chest. Still holding the dress and bra material away, she unwrapped her thumbs and pointer fingers – reaching up and gently clasping each hardened nipple as she began to roll them back-n-forth.
“It’s little details like this that will draw your audience in and those who resist you will surrender when they realize that you are as real as they are,” he stated, pausing to watch her roll her fingertips gently around.
Nadya kept her eyes locked on him, stunned for any further movement and her eyes kept that same lost glow to them. Humiliation wasn’t supposed to be so arousing, yet here she was – being made to stimulate her own body and beginning to feel the wetness of swell.
“Simon says: Pinch your nipples,” he stated, a smile growing wide across his face.
He was truly enjoying all of this and it was almost as if he had tried this many times already with others, to no avail of truly satisfying pleasure … or at least not as far as he had gotten with her. She pinched her nipples gently as she continued rolling them between her fingertips. They had quickly turned a dark shade of red and had puffed out considerably. The initial tug and pressure gave way to a bit of pain for which she winced, but kept doing exactly what Doctor Simon said.
“Simon says: Pinch your nipples harder,” he instructed, his eyes gazing a greater sense of power, almost challenging her to defy him.
She fidgeted in place, trying to work out the fussiness of being made to do something to herself that was going to hurt. And she was as adorable as could be, behaving as if a temper tantrum was next in line. But for the slow burn of treatment, her will power didn’t allow her to defy him. Squeezing her nipples harder, she whimpered a little, her forehead wrinkling and her face blushing red with embarrassment as she looked up at the cameras in the corners of the ceiling. She was eye candy already and she hadn’t even begun working yet.
“The people you take care of will know pain and they’ll know it well and their pain will be far worse than that of pinched nipples,” Doctor Simon said. “Some of their pain will be mental. Some will be physical. Some will be emotional. And you are the only thing in this world that they can depend on to see them through all of these different kinds of pain.”
Nadya closed her eyes, trying not to fidget as she felt her nipples going numb in her fingertips.
“Simon says: Smile sweetly and put a twinkle in those pretty eyes,” he stated. “The people you care for won’t smile if you’re not smiling. Come on now, Nadya. Show me how pretty you smile.”
Nadya opened her eyes and looked at him. His face was so handsome. His jaw line was defined and sharp and his eyes had depth to them that she knew she hadn’t seen the greatest of yet. And if this was only an orientation, she could hardly imagine what her reviews would be like.
But in his gaze she found a calming effect. When not looking at him, she fussed. When her eyes were closed, she found herself trying to deal with things on her own. Mix in typical insecurity and the fact that she was thousands of miles away from home – and what was created inside her was a general need to be take care of … herself.
Then it dawned on her. In this orientation, he was showing her how he would take care of her, in a manner that she would respond to. That was it! Or was it? She wasn’t sure, but it kind of made sense. When she didn’t resist him, everything got easier. But when she fought him, when she tried to do it on her own, things got painful and difficult. Particularly in this line of work, there had to be an established way of doing things, one that allowed for individual improvements but not at the expense of how the system worked already. And it all began with trust: formed, built and constantly strengthened by … the chain of command – the first thing he brought up to her when he walked in.
This orientation was about making certain she understood that what he said was what would be done, regardless of what his subordinates felt. Raising concerns was one thing. Changing directions was another.
“Simon says: Undo the bottom two buttons of your dress,” he stated, folding his hands and resting his chin on them as he leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees.
Nadya reached down to the lower hem of her dress, unfastening the bottom two buttons and trying not to grimace at the pain as the numbness began to leave her nipple, returning every bit of sensation to them. Was he going to continue to make her tease herself?
“Simon says: Slowly walk across the room, over to the window,” he stated, prolonging her build. “Work your figure but don’t make it obvious. You want to draw attention to how beautiful you are. If you control their eyes, you control their minds and they’re easier to take care of then.”
Nadya walked over to the Venetian blinds, placing one foot directly into front of the other. For the first time, she actually knew what he wanted before he explained it. He wanted to see how graceful her movements could be, when she put her mind to it.
“Simon says: Face the window and open the blinds,” he instructed, smiling devilishly as he watched her reach out and slid the Venetian blinds to the side without a moment of hesitation.
Standing there with an exposed chest and a lower hem that was unbuttoned, Nadya looked out the window and down to the street from the seventh floor. Lucky seven, as it were. She was beginning to see how modesty could open doors for her, but how a lack of modesty could do so much more. No one looked up at her. No one could see her from the street, but the point wasn’t to be seen. Rather, it was a simple test of how far she was willing to go to take care of the people who needed her.
“Simon says: Trace the shape of your figure,” he instructed, standing up as she placed her hands on either side of her cups and ran them down her hourglass. “They won’t even have to follow your hands to be reminded that you are more than the nurse of their dreams. You’ll be a goddess to them. And who doesn’t listen to a goddess?”
The thrill of being exposed along with the thrill of someone possibly looking up at her from the street mixed inside her senses, inside her thoughts – giving her that next little kick of arousal, one that would fuel forward everything to come.
“Simon says: Turn to face me and lift up the bottom of your dress,” he stated, Nadya turning around to see him standing a few feet away.
Nibbling her lower lip, she looked up at the cameras and then reached down to the lower hem of her dress, lifting it up and showing the front of her white panties. They were noticeably wet. And as he gazed at the wet mark, she blushed her deepest shade of red yet. He said nothing, but the twinkle in his eyes told her that her orientation was about to enter into review of all she had learned.
“Simon says: Walk to the side of bed and cross your arms over your chest,” he whispered, his voice deepening and his dominance coming out in his body movements.
She could tell he was thoroughly enjoying his control over her. And it only made her sweetness a little wetter to think that, no matter what he said, she would comply – instantly and without thought at this point. She walked over to the side of the bed, touching the front of her thighs to the sheets as she crossed her forearms over her breasts and placed her hands on her shoulders. Doctor Simon walked over behind her, then sliding his right hand inside the back of her panties – feeling the smoothness of her bottom. Oh, she was turned on. She looked up at the cameras, nibbling her lower lip and smiling. The point of her orientation had been lost, found and reinvented many times over, but now, all she would learn was how the failed attempts at her career prior were actually successes, it suddenly seemed.
“Look at how wet you are,” he whispered, wrapping his left arm around her and pinning her crossed arms to her front as his right hand slid around her hip and began to tease her clit-n-hood.
She gasped, looking up at the cameras, her legs fidgeting from the touch of his fingers. She kept gazing up at the little red light on the camera in the corner that faced her. He was touching her. He was actually touching her.
“Are you aroused, Nadya?” Doctor Simon asked, his fingers flicking over her clit more quickly.
“Yes, Doctor,” she struggled to say, her fidget getting worse and her breathing becoming more-n-more erratic as she swelled – slickening the front of her panties just a bit more.
“You’re making a mess of yourself. What if the person lying in this bed would turn you on the same?” he asked, fingering her clit even more quickly now. “You’d be a mess in no time.”
Her gasps and twitches arrived unpredictably now. Nadya leaned back against him to steady herself. She didn’t know if she should follow the impulse or resist it. She clearly knew what she wanted to do, but as she had learned, Doctor Simon was in charge and it was what he wanted that would happen.
“Perhaps we’ll need to do something about this. Until you can prove that you have a little more self-control, you’ll need to wear something other than these thin panties,” Doctor Simon said, his whispers of tease cutting into her esteem. “Maybe a pad, maybe a bariatric diaper. I don’t know. I’ll think of something that will be fitting for your condition. But do you understand the problem?”
“Yes, Doctor,” Nadya whispered, almost inaudible at this point as a new bit of insecurity coursed through her senses.
There were some things about her life she didn’t want to share with anyone, especially not with a handsome man who had pulled at her heart strings and made her swoon.
“But wouldn’t that be embarrassing, huh? And when people ask you why on Earth you’re wearing a diaper, of all things, you’ll have to tell them that it’s because you can’t control yourself,” he teased, his left hand reaching up to her neck and directing her eyes to stay focused on the camera in the corner of the ceiling in front of her. “Oh, yes. You’ll tell the truth, Nadya. Always.”
His fingers tightened just a bit around her throat. Her heart pounded and her legs twitched as the first little waves of pleasure poured out of her. Oh, thank God he had pinned her between himself and the edge of that bed. Otherwise, she would’ve been lying on the floor by then.
“The truth is a tricky thing to understand,” he whispered, keeping her head tilted up to the camera. “The truth is always what I tell you to say when someone asks. And if you don’t tell the truth exactly as I have instructed you, I’ll make certain that you never work in this field again. As you can see, Doctor Simon is in charge and Doctor Simon always gets what he wants. So I’d suggest you always obey Doctor Simon without hesitation. What do you think?”
“Yes, Doctor,” she whispered with breathlessness, his fingers teasing more wetness into the front of her panties as he kept his other hand around her throat.
“Pull your panties down to your knees,” he said, Nadya obeying him and lowering her soaked panties to her knee caps.
Before another second went by, his left hand released its grip of her throat as he stepped to the side and cracked her bare bottom with a sting that shot up her spine. She squirmed and fussed, stomping in place a few times.
“Simon didn’t say to do that,” he whispered, grabbing her left wrist and sliding it down inside the front of her panties.
Placing her right hand at the back of her head, he spread her legs wide, bent her over at the waist, lied her torso down on the bed and put her face directly into the sheets.
“And I told you that you only get to make one mistake with me for free,” he said, standing up and reaching into the right hip pocket of his doctor’s coat. “When you make mistakes, you shouldn’t deny it … ever. Denial makes the punishment so much worse. We all make mistakes and this includes you. Simon says: Lift your bottom up.”
Nadya’s eyes grew big-n-wide with fear of what was about to happen. Was he gonna spank her again? She knew that speaking out of turn was likely wrong, but would she be making a mistake to lift her head up and looked back at him? Was he taking his belt off? Should she pull her panties back up over her bottom? Should she take them down to her ankles? Should she do nothing?
And as waiting for him in that humiliating position brought trepidation to her heart, her right hand – placed inside her panties by him – brought a bit of excitement to her arousal. Suddenly, fear was tantalizing, intoxicating even. She envisioned being praised by him in the future when she did something right and hearing him say That’s a god girl again and again, melting her mind and tingling her senses. She also envisioned being disciplined by him when she made a mistake, finding herself about to be punished as if she were his wayward responsibility. The idea of punishment suddenly seemed to have meaning, something she wanted to run away from, while at the same time being something she wanted to receive – for the mental correction, the behavioral adjustment and the sexual thrill that she felt.
Fingering her hood with a feverish quickness, the only distraction she could think of to occupy her mind until he spoke again or touched her or explained why her bottom was raised in the air or whatever, her thighs shook as another small ripple of pleasure poured out of her center, making her moan into the bed sheets and then fuss a little at the realization of how this whole orientation had made her a ticking time bomb for an orgasmic conclusion, it seemed.
And then suddenly, she gasped in deeply as she felt a cool dollop of Vaseline that he placed at her rosebud. Oh, my Blue Heaven. What was he about to do?
“Now I know that you’ve been given a lot to think about today,” Doctor Simon said, placing some sort of cool metal tip at her rosebud. “But we don’t often remember all the things we should without a bit of … further incentive.”
Then, he inserted that cool metal tip into her rosebud parting the opening to her bottom and making her seize up all the muscles in her body. She was grateful, at least, for the Vaseline and the fact that the metal device was smooth.
“Relax your body, Nadya,” Doctor Simon said with a calm and alluring tone.
She obeyed him once again, relaxing her muscles and allowing him to insert the device further into her bottom.
“This device is called an anoscope. It’s similar to a speculum,” Doctor Simon explained. “You know what a speculum is, don’t you?”
“Yes, Doctor,” she said, beginning to whimper heavily.
Squeezing a simple trigger at the end of the device, he opened the sides of it up inside her and stretched her bottom open. Nadya froze in place, not fighting him at all. And she found herself in another instance when resistance would equal greater pain than just simply complying.
“Does this hurt?” Doctor Simon asked, holding the device in place. “You can be honest.”
“Yes, Doctor,” she whimpered, trying her best to control her breathing.
“Well, so do the lackluster efforts of a naughty nurse, when she doesn’t do her job,” he replied. “And I know you’ll be naughty sometimes. I’m counting on it.”
Closing her eyes, she began to tease her clit again, feeling the sopping wetness on the front of her panties. She could hear him walking away from behind her, sitting on a chair and then complete silence fell over the room – save from the sloppy noises of her fingers as she rubbed between her legs with fervent passion to complete her arousal.
Doctor Simon sat there patiently as she shuddered and twitched, rubbing herself faster and faster until she seized up again – another ripple of pleasure pouring out of her and washing over her frame. Whimpering and fussing, she was glad her beet red face was buried in the bed sheets. If this orientation was being recorded by those cameras, at least her orgasm wouldn’t include the sight of her face in its visions.
And then she came, moaning in a manner that was anything but lady-like and freely abandoning modesty as she rubbed herself into an afterglow.
“Tomorrow when you come in, I expect you to be dressed more appropriately. And yes, I think you still need another lesson in humility,” Doctor Simon said, getting up from the chair and walking around to the side of the bed.
He placed his right hand on the small of her back and released the trigger of the device. It reduced in diameter and he gently slid it out of her bottom, her rosebud tightening to an extreme tautness.
“So when you come in to work, come directly to my office. There we’ll decide what protection is necessary to prevent you from dripping down your legs as you do your job,” he stated, Nadya feeling mortified at the thought of being padded or diapered or whatever he decided, but also feeling excited for it. “I’m impressed with you, Nadya. You haven’t once cried throughout this orientation. But that will change with time. Everybody has a breaking point. And Doctor Simon will find yours.”
He pulled her bowed thighs back together and slid the back of her panties up into place. And then he helped her stand to her feet. She looked down at the wet spot she had created on the bed sheets, mortified once more. But at the moment she stood upright, horror filled her eyes as she clenched down on her sphincter muscles. This was a battle she absolutely had to fight. Luckily, he didn’t oppose her on it.
“Tomorrow morning, Miss Katsaros. 9 am. Be here,” he said, smacking her bottom as she ran into the bathroom, shutting the door and barely making it onto the toilet in time.
This was another one of those moments that required a girl to find privacy. But as she sat there, reliving the entire orientation and trying to process an explanation as to why she had become so aroused by it all, she thought back to Greece and how the back of her thighs were often struck with a cane when she made mistakes at her jobs. For whatever reason, this time it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience and one she hoped to feel again and again and again … the next time she didn’t do what Simon said.