A Bad Girl’s Lesson – The Institute Read Online Emily Tilton

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 66851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
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Phil supplied that, too, after swallowing a mouthful of the plentiful scrambled eggs that Ben and Greg, the day guys, had cooked up before they’d gone to bed—just like I would do for them at the end of our shift, as long as we all weren’t trying to keep the liquid oxygen tanks from exploding, or trying to keep an apartment block from going up.

“That’s how horny she is,” he told me. “Ten’s the highest, I guess.”

I frowned. “How do they know that?”

Phil laughed. “Kind of obvious, isn’t it?”

I looked at the naked girl, tightly restrained to the chair, black webbing straps around her neck, her waist, her wrists, and her knees—a pink ball gag in her mouth for good measure. Phil wasn’t wrong: the expression on her face as the nurse bent over in front of the doctor with the plastic paddle in his hand seemed to cry out to the camera.

The deep furrow in Marianne’s brow and the rosy blush in her cheeks said it all without any need for words. The naked young woman whose embarrassing exam had apparently been interrupted by this disciplinary moment didn’t want to get hot and bothered as she watched the nurse reluctantly lower her pink scrubs to expose her blue cotton panties, but she had no choice at all in the matter.

“I guess so,” I said, “but there’s got to be a little more to it, right?”

“Sure,” Phil replied. “Probably in that email, but who cares? It’s about relaxing, isn’t it? If she likes it when we fuck her brains out, that’s good enough for me. I mean, she’s like off-the-chart hot, right?”

I had to admit he had that part correct. Marianne, spread open and tied down, her little breasts heaving up and down and her shaved pussy glistening with what looked like a mixture of lube and arousal, had already gotten me as hard as an iron bar.

I watched the screen for a moment longer. Phil had the sound down very low, but I could hear the doctor tell his nurse, in an impatient tone, to lower her panties. She cast a beseeching look over her shoulder.

The number in the upper right of the screen went from eight to nine.

Very curious now, I opened the email from Selecta Employee Services.

Dear firefighter,

We’re writing to share some great news. Your unit has been selected for the Sexual Relief Device program.

Marianne

“I said, get them down, Cathy,” the doctor repeated.

“But…” Cathy pleaded. Then she looked at me. The mortification in that expression, the unwelcome feeling of solidarity I read there, the idea that both of us knew about the mortifying arousal we each felt… together with the bizarre, horrible irony that the doctor would paddle the good girl nurse rather than the criminal strapped to the exam chair…

I sobbed, and I kept shaking my head, slowly, trying to tell her that it wasn’t my fault. She had giggled, and then she had talked back to the doctor. She seemed like such a mature woman, but she had behaved like a naughty little girl. I hadn’t done any of that.

To my distress, though, even as I moved my chin back and forth, my eyes locked on Nurse Cathy’s, I wondered whether I would have actually pleaded on her behalf, if I could have spoken. Some part of me desperately wanted to watch this. I couldn’t wait for the snooty woman to pull her panties down and get her lesson from the white plastic paddle in the doctor’s hand.

She had assumed the position, with her scrubs around her ankles and her hands on her knees. The doctor had taken off his headband light thing and gotten the paddle from a cabinet in the corner. Did every exam room have one? How much firsthand knowledge did Nurse Cathy have of the kind of treatment she had told me I, too, would apparently receive at the hands of the men the government had decided to give me to?

Between my spread thighs, I watched the doctor take a step forward and put his left hand on the older woman’s waist. I watched the paddle go up.

“This doesn’t count,” the doctor said, his voice as hard as the expression on his face.

“Wait!” Cathy said, starting to twist away, but he seemed to have a good deal of experience with punishing his nurses, and he anticipated the movement, shifting his hand to grip her right hip and hold her in place as he brought the smooth white surface down on her panty-clad ass.

Even with the slightly muffling effect of the panties’ thin fabric and the less-than-spacious acoustics of the tiny exam room, the paddle made a resounding thwack that brought a wince to my face. Nurse Cathy emitted a sort of helpless grunt that testified to the strength of the doctor’s arm and seemed entirely different from the superior attitude she had shown me until now. Fascinated despite myself, I watched her face twist as she obviously tried very hard not to let me see how painful and humiliating she found this punishment, delivered in front of a convicted criminal—the old-fashioned lesson for misbehavior that apparently hadn’t even started yet.


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