“Dr. Acosta will be with you soon,” said the attractive woman in the nurse’s uniform who showed Emilio into the examination room. It seemed different than the other ones in which he had been previously. For starters, some type of medical electrical equipment sat against the wall. He knew that most doctors do not need to deliver electrical shocks as part of their practice. What kind of medicine did Dr. Acosta practice? Almost in answer to his question, Emilio noticed that the examination table had restraints designed to bind the hands and feet of the less willing.
“Would you like anything while you wait?”
Emilio was surprised. On reflection, he should have known this “routine” exam would be anything but. Given that he was applying to work for the Morales crime family, drug lords who lived above the law, it would only make sense that the family doctor helped with interrogations as well. In fact, aiding in these sessions might be part of his job description in working “security.” Emilio wasn’t really sure what he would be asked to do to earn his pay, but he had been assured of one thing: the money he was to make here would be more than he would have an opportunity to earn in two lifetimes of working a legitimate job.
“Get me a soda.” He stared at the perky tits barely restrained by the small shirt. If they wanted a cool customer, he would give them one. He had won the fighting contest; he was a man to be feared. The right man for the job today, and the right man to run the family down the road.
The nurse nodded. “Dr. Acosta will be with you in a moment. In the meantime, please remove your clothes and wait on the examination table.” She left the room before he had a chance to respond, leaving him to his thoughts: a rolling stool, rack of periodicals upon the wall — and the examination table.
“A torture chamber with People magazine,” he said aloud to no one, beginning to unbutton his shirt, and caught his reflection in a large, wall-length mirror. A two-way, no doubt. A cool customer — whose fear was rising. He re-buttoned his shirt. Who was behind it, studying him this very minute? He had not applied for an ordinary job. No doubt they (whoever they were) wanted people in their employ who were tough and cool under pressure. If he appeared rattled now, he could forget about ever working for the Morales family. This is a test; it has to be.
The Morales family also lacked any strong men at the helm — all the casualties of the family’s decades-long struggle in the drug war. No doubt, they needed to hire some back. They wanted to see if he was a leader or a follower. He’d be damned if he’d let a woman tell him to strip naked. Emilio snatched a magazine from the rack, kicking back on the examination table, flipping through the pages of women not unlike the nurse he just saw.
Unless … they’re testing me to see if I can take orders from a woman.
But a nurse? Why test him with an underling?
His course resolved, Emilio sat in his seat, trying to project an air of confidence, paging through the magazine. His continual fidgeting betrayed his true feelings, however.
Finally, the door opened and Dr. Acosta entered the room. The small, auburn-haired woman wore a silk blouse underneath her white lab coat; both open so as to display her impressive rack. Being the third pair of impressive tits Emilio had witnessed on a woman associated with the Morales family, Emilio began to suspect they had negotiated a volume discount with a plastic surgeon.
An air of authority and dread followed the clack of her high-heel shoes as she walked cooly into the room. If she was surprised or shocked, her face certainly did not show it.
This must be what it feels like to be interrogated by her.
He wanted to continue feigning the tough exterior, but, Emilio realized, this must be the same exact scenario to which the good doctor had become accustomed: to enter into the room and see her helpless victim trying to act unfazed; it must have played out for her countless times.
He didn’t want to, but his mind ran wild with that image: he pictured Dr. Acosta as the eye in the middle of the storm; around her were men (he figured it must be men) inflicting pain on one another as she calmly watched and directed the action. Suddenly, his thoughts raced out of control, leaving him with only fear and anxiety.
He imagined her enjoying the interrogation — hell, he saw her taunting the poor victims with her enjoyment … touching herself … as the intensity of their pain increased … bringing herself to climax … as their lives slipped away.
“You were instructed to strip naked, no?”
As her question brought him back to the present, he was suddenly embarrassed to find he didn’t know how to answer her. He didn’t want to indicate his willful disobedience to Dr. Acosta. Though he wasn’t sure how she would react, he still didn’t really want to find out.
“Oh, yeah.” Emilio forced a big smile onto his face. “I thought she was kidding. I’m sorry. I’ll do that right now.” And he began, once again, unbuttoning his shirt.
“So, the nurse did not make herself clear?”
“She did. I just thought — ”
Dr. Acosta turned towards the door. “Erin, get in here!”
The nurse — whose name was apparently Erin — returned, holding a tray with an unopened soda can and a glass full of ice. “Yes, Dr. Acosta?”
“You stupid bitch! Look what you’ve done!”
In seconds, the glass had shattered to the floor; the can of soda, ruptured, its dark liquid collecting. Dr Acosta had slapped Erin’s face with such force as to knock the tray clear from her hands; the unexpected and sudden savagery stunning Emilio, who felt helpless to do anything but watch.
Soon, Erin recovered her composure, slowly coming to attention, her right cheek flushing a bright red. “I’m sorry for my clumsiness and stupidity.”
Although Dr. Acosta walked behind Erin, her eyes remained on Emilio. “And what else is wrong with this situation?”
Erin’s eyes remained upon the floor. “The subject is not naked for examination.”
“That’s right. He isn’t. Why don’t you ask him why not?”
Erin looked to Emilio. Her eyes pleading with him not to make her situation worse. “Why are you not naked for examination?” she asked in a noticeably small voice.
“I’m sorry. I thought it was a test. I didn’t want to seem weak,” Emilio blurted, wanting to set things right before they spiraled out of control any further.
“Ah. So she was clear in her instructions,” said Dr. Acosta, walking back in front of Erin. Her eyes seems to peer straight into Emilio’s soul.
“Yes, doctor. Very clear.”
“Emilio, do you know what I do here?”
He had a pretty good idea, but did not dare say it. Better to play dumb. He shook his head.
“I extract information. Often from people who are trying to conceal it. What I just did to Erin was one of the techniques I use. People can often endure plenty of discomfort but will not want to see another suffer. You see?”
He did see. This bitch is good. “Si, señsora.”
“Good. Now that you’ve had a demonstration, I pray you will never attempt to deceive me again.” After a moment, she began nodding her head slowly. He nodded quickly in response.
Then Dr. Acosta turned and began unbuttoning Erin’s blouse, who made no move in protest. Like a chess game played against an opponent far more experienced, each move Dr. Acosta made seemed bewildering to him. Though reason certainly drove her moves and actions, he wished he could anticipate them. Erin remained at attention as Dr. Acosta opened her blouse and then unfastened the clasp nestled between her cleavage.
Erin stayed still, hands at her side, as Dr. Acosta exposed her breasts.
“Do you like them?” She rubbed them gingerly.
Emilio remained in a state of total confusion. Erin, who, five minutes ago was a person he was having a conversation with, had now become an object who started blankly ahead as Dr. Acosta rubbed her.
I better play along with whatever her plan is.
Dr. Acosta walked behind Erin. She placed her hands underneath Erin’s breasts as if offering them to Emilio. She studied his face from over Erin’s shoulder as she awaited his response.
“Yes. Of course.”
“What do you want to do with them?”
“I…” shame and embarrassment eating the rest of his sentence.
“I see you are shamed easily.” She grabbed each nipple between her thumb and forefinger and pulled them away from her body. She began to roll them lightly back and forth. Emilio stood transfixed.
Dr. Acosta pinched her nipples which caused a sharp inhale from Erin. Erin’s eyes grew wide as she tried to silently cope with the pain and remain in her position. Dr. Acosta pinched again which caused Erin’s knees to buckle. A groan escaped.
“I will rip her nipples off of her tits if you aren’t naked and on the examination table in ten seconds. Diez…. nueve…”
Buttons went flying as Emilo tore his clothes off. He was naked on the examination table with two seconds to spare. “Cuff him to the table.” Dr. Acosta pushed Erin towards Emilio. Erin looked at him and her eyes thanked him for his compliance as she strapped his legs to the table. Her naked tits brushed his arm as she leaned forward to secure his arms.
Dr. Acosta walked to the side of the table and stared down into his face. She held his gaze for a long few seconds, and then stared between his legs. Her face scrunched in annoyance. “Suck it.”
If there was any commandment Dr. Acosta could give which Erin would not obey, it had yet to be found. Without hesitation, Erin maneuvered between his legs and lowered her face to his crotch.
“She’s quite good.” Dr. Acosta stared into Emilio’s eyes. Studying him.
He felt her warm breath on his balls as she slowly kissed up and down each side of his stiffening cock. She grabbed it by the base and licked from the midway point towards the head in a long, luxurious stroke. She did that twice more before flickering her tongue over the head.
Yes she is.
Emilio watched Erin. He did not want to meet Dr. Acosta’s scrutinizing gaze. Better to get lost in the moment. He watched as she began to work her mouth up and down his cock, cupping his balls and rubbing her nipples against them. Shameless, she started to moan. Emilio felt himself building towards climax he closed his eyes in anticipation.
“Stop.” Dr. Acosta commanded and Erin obeyed. Emilio opened his eyes to look at Dr. Acosta, but she was starting down at his crotch. She shook her head. “I’m sorry Emilio, but I’m afraid you are not cut out of security.” The exam apparently concluded, Dr. Acosta began to walk towards the door.
“What?” Emilio shouted.
“Erin will release you from your restraints and see you out. If you’d like, I can also have her swallow your cum as a going away present. Would you like that?”
Emilio wanted to scream. Many things actually but “Yes, what, fuck and bitch,” seemed the most dominant choices. He stammered as he tried to compose himself.
“Like I said, easily shamed.” She walked out the door.
“No. Dr. Acosta.” She walked back in. “I won the fight. I get the job.”
She shook her head. “You get a job. But to work security, I have to sign off on you and you lack the necessary equipment.”
“But I get a job.”
“Well, sure, if you want it. We are always looking for servants. Someone to clean the compound and tidy up and things like that.”
“A servant!” he said finally finding his voice. “I’ve trained to be a fighter.”
“You see. I knew you wouldn’t want the job.” She turned to leave again.
“How much does it pay?”
“Half of what security makes.” That was still a lot of money.
“OK. Servant work. Sure. And then I can move up into security later.”
“The Morales women are very sexual. Since their security detail functions as their constant companion, they want the men in that detail to be of a certain… caliber.” She walked back into the room and pointed as his now shrinking penis. “I’m afraid that just won’t do. Furthermore, servants have to wear a chastity belt. The Morales women don’t want their servants getting ideas. Do you understand?”
He didn’t, but he nodded anyway.
Mister P enjoys writing erotica, discussing politics, manufacturing queening stools, and counseling submissive men on the unique challenges they face. He and his wife Mistress Roulette host the Diary of a Dominatrix Podcast. Mister P is also the maker of the Queening Stool.