Dentist's Receptionist, by Satan_Klaus
MF, Md, FF, Fd, blackmail, ds, reluctant, humiliation, fetish, spanking, toys
2. The Treatment
I had just graduated from Harvard, with honours mind you, and was now on an internship in
Boston for JP-Morgan. I was doing consulting work for a Japanese client and I was doing it so
well that I was certain that I was going to land a job, either with Morgan or the Japanese.
I was just leaving for a long day at JP-Morgan when I got a serious toothache. I bravely
shouldered the pain for the day but I had to admit that I needed a dentist, fast.
Being new to Boston I was not familiar with any doctor so I just picked the one who gave me
an appointment that I could fit into my very full schedule. The dentist I choose happened to be
a Dr. P. Martin. O how I regret that decision!
At first, I was positively surprised, the suburban dental clinic was small but it looked very
classy with a glass panel lobby and an expensive black leather couch in the waiting room.
The nurse that picked me up from the waiting room was dressed in a tiny white uniform with
a hemline so short that the top of her garters showed with every step. It would have looked
ridiculous on most women but the nurse, Alice said her nametag, filled the little dress
gracefully with her bulging breasts and perfect figure. Her well formed legs seemed to be
made to wear 4 inch platform heels and, with her round butt cheeks swaying gracefully before
me, she led me to the examination room.
With my flowing, auburn hair, well trimmed body and pert C-cup breasts I have no reason to
be self-conscious about my appearance, but when we met another nurse on the corridor,
similarly dressed and similarly well endowed, I began to wonder. Inside the alabaster-white
corridors of Dr. Martin's dental clinic, the standard of appearance one had to live up to
seemed substantially higher than outside.
The doctor who greeted me in the examination room was younger than I had expected, maybe
28-29, certainly too young to have his own dental clinic. I was quite irritated at that, I had
expensive private health insurance and the girl on the phone had assured me that Dr. Martin
would treat me personally.
"I was assured that I would be treated by a seasoned professional, I had expected someone a
little older. I have platinum health insurance and I demand to be treated by Dr. Martin
himself!" The doctor tried to say something but I cut him off before he could even start.
"Listen! Unless you are trying to tell me that Dr. Martin will be here to look after me shortly
this is just a waste of my time. How dare they give me some first year resident! This is
unbelievable!"
When I voiced my discontent at his apparent lack of professional experience, he looked at me
with his eyes slightly crossed out, as if he was not pondering a reassuring answer but
something else entirely. His eyes wandered across my body with a disconcerting intensity,
drinking in my curves with a predatory smile forming on his lips.
I am used to staring, my body kind of demands it, but every man, or woman, has done so with
adoration or grudging acknowledgement of my physical charms. This stare was something
else entirely; he was assessing me, judging me.
When his attention finally returned to my face I was trembling, his piercing stare had drained
all the confidence from me.
He beamed a smile at me, a big, reassuring smile.
"Oh there was no misunderstanding, I am Dr. Martin. Please Mrs Brightwater, have a seat!"
He gestured at the leather exam chair.
I complied; his stare followed by the exaggerated friendliness had left me speechless and
shaken. My mouth was still agape when he moved over to examine me and a quick look was
enough for him to diagnose my ailment.
"You have an affected tooth Mrs Brightwater, I'm afraid we have to drill." I didn't like his
ironic tone and I certainly didn't like the emphasis he put on the word DRILL.
I had finally regained my composure and was prepared to jump out of the chair, take my bag
and leave, when the unexpected happened.
Alice, the nurse, walked in, strode in, really. Her uniform was revealing much more than it
had before. Her coat was unbuttoned down to her belly, baring her well formed E-cup breasts,
supported only by a white latex shelf bra. Her nametag was dangling from a ring through her
right nipple.
I stared at her speechless for a minute, then I ran. Or tried to run, that is. Previously concealed
metal loops had extended from the chair and my wrists had been secured to the armrests.
"I'm afraid the treatment will be slightly painful Mrs Brightwater."
I screamed and struggled against my bonds only to find that my ankles where secured in a
similar fashion. The doctor stepped forwards and pulled a bundle of straps from under the
headrest of the devilish examination chair. With a few practiced movements he closed the
straps around my head and soon there was nothing left I could do but scream.
"Now, open wide!" His voice was cheerful and friendly, as if he was treating me like a regular
patient. The drill in his hand was not very reassuring and I quickly stopped screaming and
clenched my mouth shut instead.
I couldn't turn my head, but from the corner of my eyes I could see the busty nurse hand him
a dental spreader. He pushed the metal contraption past my lips and forced it between my
clenched teeth. At the side of the spreader was a little wheel and with every turn of the wheel
my mouth was forced open a little wider until my jaws where strained painfully and my
mouth was easily accessible for whatever tortures he had planned for me.
"I should be done in about 20 minutes. See to it that the papers are ready by then!" He handed
my bag to the nurse and sent her out with a pat on her firm, round bottom.
He began poking around in my mouth and, after a few minutes, I could hear him power up the
drill. I was terrified! When he entered my mouth I steeled myself for the pain but there was
only a slightly discomforting feeling on one of my molars.
He drilled my affected tooth very professionally for a few minutes and I was wondering what
he was up to. I was still secured to the chair, unable to move much more than a muscle and
this eerie doctor was giving me a professional dental treatment. Finally he removed the drill
from my mouth and placed it on a nearby tray.
"There, we are through, all the way to the nerve." He paused for a few seconds, then looked
around impatiently.
The slutty nurse returned with a stack of paper that she placed on the table next to the exam
chair. I could barely see her from the position my head was forced into, but beyond the
bulging mountains of her breasts I could make out her face. It showed a wild mix of fearful
anticipation and ... compassion.
"All typed up, Sir."
Dr. Martin briefly looked through the papers and, absentmindedly, began to fondle her pert
breasts with his latex gloved hands.
Suddenly he gripped her name tag and pulled, eliciting a painful scream from the frightened
nurse. "You took your sweet little time, girl! You are in for a spanking, later." The chastised
nurse lowered her head in shame and shuffled her feet in anticipation of the punishment, not
daring to protest in a more outspoken manner.
"Now, back to business!" He picked up the first of the papers on his stack. "Hmm, Josephine
Brightwater, a pretentious name for a pretentious girl. And a masters degree in business, too. I
think we will have to cut down your self-esteem a little." He began to unbutton my shirt,
caressing my satin enclosed breasts. "Your tits are nice, definitely on the small side, but nice.
I think I might have the perfect job for you, little career girl. You see, I need a girl who knows
her way around numbers and who can hold her own on the phone. You learned that at
Harvard, did you?"
He placed the rest of the papers along with a pen on a tray and rolled it next to my right
armrest. Then he drew up a syringe with some anaesthetic.
"The American Independent Dentist's Association would recommend a local anaesthesia for
the next part of your treatment. However, I'm afraid you can only have it once these papers
are signed." He gave me a broad, reassuring smile.
The dental spreader made discernable language impossible but I am sure he could make out
the distinctive tone of a heartfelt "FUCK YOU!"
"I'm sorry you feel this way, Josie. You don't mind me calling you Josie, do you?"
I cursed him again at the uninvited shortening of my name, then prepared for the worst as he
entered my mouth with a slim stainless-steel instrument.
Nothing could have prepared me for the pain I felt as he touched my bare nerve with the
dental poker. For minutes, I screamed at the top of my lungs, jerking spasmodically in my
bonds while he smiled down at me, gently moving the little instrument inside my hollow tooth.
"Would you like to reconsider? If you sign them all there is a little reward waiting for you."
I don't like needles, actually I am afraid of them, but at that moment I wanted nothing as
much as the syringe that he dangled before my teary eyes.
The nurse secured my right elbow with a leather strap and released my wrist. I couldn't read
the paper from my position but he was kind enough to tell me.
"The first one would be your resignation from JP-Morgan, Josie." He placed the pen in my
hand and moved it to the dotted line at the bottom of the sheet.
With my hand still shaking from the torture he had put me through I signed the document.
"I understand you are still a little uneasy from being treated without anaesthesia but that
signature of yours does not even remotely look like the one on your credit card." He held up
my gold Master Card to prove his point and took a fresh sheet from the nurse. "Now you can
sign this one properly or should I proceed with the treatment?" He brought the dental poker
into my limited view. "Your call!"
I signed the replacement and he nodded approvingly. The sheet went straight into an envelope,
addressed for JP-Morgan. "Next up: Your employment contract as a dentist's receptionist at
my humble clinic!" He gave me a friendly smile, and added: "At minimum wage!"
He had the voice of a game show moderator handing out wonderful prizes to his stunned
audience, while in fact he was handing out the utter destruction of my dreams.
Health insurance waiver, account transfer, car sale documents, credit agreement, week-end
and night shift bonus waiver, power of attorney, letter of agreement for breast surgery, I
signed them all.
"And finally, my favourite!" He took the pen from my hand and replaced it with the bottle of
anaesthesia that he had used to fill the syringe. Bewildered I took it, unsure what to do with it.
With a deft motion he took it from my hand again and placed it in a plastic bag. "Thank you
for the fingerprints Josie!" He handed me the pen again. "My favourite: a written confession
for the theft and sale of Novocaine!"
When I failed to sign the document, he looked down at me with a disappointed look. "What's
the matter Josie? If you don't sign that confession, how can I convince the police that you
where dead broke due to your drug debts, sold your car and ruined your career and then
turned to stealing and selling a controlled drug? Without that little document how can I
prevent you from walking out of here and never come back to work as my receptionist?" He
made a sad face.
It was bizarre; he could have hidden the key document amount the countless trivial documents
he had made me sign and I would not have known. Instead he revealed all his devilish
intentions to me. He wanted me to know that with this final signature I would be signing my
life away. Of course, I refused. At first.
I saw nothing but bright pain, the pain was so intense that it had taken over all my senses. I
saw pain, I heard pain, I even smelled pain but most of all I felt pain. Pain like I had never felt
before and I never intend to feel again. It felt like a giant was crushing my teeth with a steel
girder, when in fact he was just using that tiny dental poker, moving it only a fraction of a
millimetre at a time.
I opened my eyes and my senses slowly returned to me. The nurse was holding my hand, tears
of compassion streaming down her face, ruining her perfect makeup and flowing over her
bare breasts.
I looked around, but the doctor was nowhere to be seen. I gave the nurse a questioning look.
"You have been unconscious for a few minutes so he went to buy some drugs. He told me to
have the paperwork finished when he returns." She placed the pen in my hand again. "Please
sign it! It's no use fighting him."
I looked up at her tear filled eyes, meeting the knowing look of someone who had endured the
same torment as I had, and signed the confession.
