Chloe's Internship


Until this week I was a confirmed heterosexual. You know, straight! I mean, it wasn't like the thought of doing something with girls had never occurred to me, but I'd never tried to do anything about it!  But that didn't mean I was still straight.

Kara Sampson was a gay girl from high school. We'd both just graduated, and were working for the summer before college. She'd approached me about working for her mom at a swimsuit design ware studio. That had sounded way better than working for some lawyer during the summer!

Only there was an 'interview' first, you see, and that included modeling a swimsuit, for 'occasional visits from buyers', and then, well, somehow... somehow me and Kara had wound up doing it! And it had been incredible!

So incredible I'd basically let her take over. I mean, what did I know about lesbian sex!? Her taking over, though, had been a lot stronger than I had, at first understood. Then again, since she'd started our sexual relationship by spanking me, I should have guessed.

So okay, she was hot, and it was wild and thrilling, and just a game, where she made me call her mistress and she called me slave girl. It was kinky but she was soooo good at knowing what turned a girl on that I had the most intense orgasms of my life!

Only... now on my first day of work at her mom's studio I'd first been roughly, well, seduced, and then made to perform oral sex on one of the other ladies there, and then been caught with a vibrator – by her mom! And not only did her mom not fire me but instead had offered to help Kara TRAIN me as a sex slave! That just about blew my mind, and I couldn't react, couldn't resist, couldn't say a thing as my face burned red hot!

All I could do was, well, what they told me to do! I never even objected to anything, and then Mrs. Sampson had casually dismissed me, had me put on my dress, and go back to my desk!

My slutty dress, one that Kara had selected for me, had me buy, one I'd never have bought on my own, but did because she told me that the women at the design studio were very fashion conscious.

So I went back to my desk, but my heart was still pounding and my chest was tight and my mind was still spinning wildly! These women were all lesbo perverts! I didn't, for a moment, think anything of their talk of training me as a 'slave girl'. That was obviously just a kinky game, but what a kinky game it was!

Was everyone who worked here a lesbian except me?! I mean, first Melicia and now Mrs. Sampson! Plus Kara! No one else was looking at me weirdly, which was a relief! I felt very self-conscious, as if they'd all know what kinky stuff I had just been up to and that I had this buzzing sex toy between my legs!

And to make matters worse I was still aroused! I mean, there was a deep, dark sense of thrilled excitement at all this kinkiness! Not to mention the buzzing against my clitoris from the little vibrator Kara had pushed into me!

I was kind of shell-shocked about Mrs. Sampson finding out and the way she talked about me – and touched me – but the deliciously kinky sex games Kara and I were playing were no less of a turn-on for that.

And then there was Melicia, who had used that... that stick on my bottom! Not to mention fingering me to an orgasm and making me lick her to one! God! I let myself marvel at having practically forgotten that due to the new shock with Mrs. Sampson!

Of course, I was completely scatterbrained about the actual work I was supposed to do, since my mind kept being swept by the wild, shocking memories of what had happened, and even wilder thoughts about what might yet happen and what I ought to do about it all!

When I noticed Mrs. Sampson frowning at me I jerked upright in my chair, eyes widening and pulse suddenly racing.

“Yes, Mrs. Sampson?” I gulped.

She sighed and shook her head. “I can see we'll get no work from you today,” she said.

I flushed, thinking of the tasks I hadn't even thought about.

“Come with me.”

She walked back up the hall and I felt my heart thumping as I got up and scurried around the corner to follow her.

We went to the end of the hall to one of the storage rooms and she opened it, motioned me inside, then closed the door behind us and ran her eyes over the junk there.

“Yes, I thought we still had this,” she said. “This will do nicely.”

She pushed aside some boxes and led me to … well, I'm not sure what it was, other than a narrow leather cushion. She picked it up and took it to the corner of the room, then laid it on the floor.

“Come here,” she ordered.

I hesitated, my face hot and my mind churning, then, with my hands still behind my neck, I nervously walked over to her.

Mrs. Sampson turned to me and frowned.

“Has Kara taught you the term 'position'?”

“Uhm, n-no,” I gulped.

“Position depends on whether you're standing, sitting or kneeling, but in all cases it involves spreading your legs and putting your fingers behind your neck, interlacing your fingers, and arching your back as you did earlier.”

I flushed hotly.

“Present!” she snapped.

Gulping, I obeyed and she tugged up the hem of the dress as my body began to thrum with dark, roiling energy and my mind churned with uncertainty, anxiety, embarrassment and a helpless sense of confusion.

She pulled the little ball out of my sex, and I flushed as she stroked me there.

“Very wet,” she said.

Then she tugged on my wrists and slapped at my elbows so I was positioned properly, held my wrists, and gripped my elbow.

“But why –?”

“Slave girls don't need to ask why, only obey when given an order,” Mrs. Sampson said in a cold voice.

Then she pulled the hem of the dress up higher, up my body, up over my head and off, leaving me naked!

Blushing hotly, I wondered if I could object, or even... I don't know, refuse!

“Good. Memorize this pose,” she said. “Whenever you are standing, this is the pose you are to take when told to present. Do you understand?”

I gulped, heart pounding, and she slapped my bottom!

“Answer me.”

“Y-Yes, Mrs. Sampson!”

“All right. Hands behind your back, wrists crossed.”

This was so weird! Doing this with Kara was one thing, but her mom!!?

But... but my mind wasn't working and I had no idea what else to do but obey her!

I crossed my wrists behind my back and she tied them together with some kind of narrow cord. As I felt it tightening around them I felt a strange sense of darkness within me, a breathless darkness of helpless anticipation and anxiety!

I gasped again as she gripped my hair and tilted my head back.

“Stick your tongue out, slave girl,” she ordered. “As far as you can!”

Dazed, I obeyed, and saw her bring a strange looking black rectangle about two inches wide up to my tongue. It opened to reveal jaws like a very wide clothespin. Except that there were little curved spikes on the inside of the jaws.

To my astonishment – I was completely bewildered – she placed the jaws over and under my tongue and then let them close. At first I winced as they closed on my sensitive tongue, but then I cried out as she released it fully and they closed much tighter!

I jerked my tongue back into my mouth, but the thing came with it, still biting into my tongue!

“The pain will fade,” she said. “The little spikes aren't sharp enough to cut you, and they'll only really hurt if you try to pull back against the pull of the clip. They're angled out, you see.”

The base of the thing was still outside my lips, and she attached a cord to it and then pulled slowly. Gasping, I had no choice but to let my tongue push forward as the little teeth dug into it!

“You'd be surprised how far a tongue can stretch with a little effort and persistence,” she said.

I squealed a she tugged on it and she snorted.

“Don't worry. This room used to be the audio-visual room and is almost completely soundproof,” she said.

She pushed me down and ordered me to kneel on the leather padded cushion, with my face to the corner, then pulled the cord attached to the clip up along the wall and tied it to a hook there! Then she took a wide metal rod which was attached to the side of the leather cushion thing I was kneeling on and pulled it up, like it was a lever. I felt the rounded tip slide along the line of my sex. Then, as she turned a screw, the rod extended itself, and I squealed as I felt it pushing up harder and harder, forcing its way into my body!

“I understand het girls, especially blondes, are instinctively aroused by penetration,” she said. “So you should enjoy this.”

It was a thick rod! I moaned as it inched its way deeper and deeper into my belly, cool and metal, but smooth, and, thanks to the ball that had been in me, sliding fairly easily between the moist lips of my sex.

It only halted as a kind of curve caught at the top of my sex, a curve thicker than, but similar to the one on the ball. Sure enough, she plugged the padded frame into a wall outlet and the pipe began to vibrate.

A moment later I felt her hands at my ankles, drawing them together. Then something was tied around them and she lifted them up and back behind me. I felt her tying them to my wrists, before stepping back.

“Now ponder your position, slave girl, and your future,” she said.

Then she opened the door, went out, and left me like that!