"Naked Secretary Masturbation Chamber."

“I won? Oh, my god, I won! I actually did it! I get to, uh… boss, may I be excused for a moment?”

“Step right this way, Florence. No need to sneak off! Simply walk over to the Naked Secretary Masturbation Chamber for your reward.”

“The, uh… oh, there it is.” She’s just noticed a big gold door in the wall which wasn’t there this morning. She steps over to it, opens it and says “Boss, I think there’s a mistake.”

“No mistake at all, Florence.”

“Could I, um… could I perhaps masturbate somewhere else, boss? Maybe I could come up to your office and you could fuck me? Would that be alright?”

“No can do, Florence. I’m very busy. If you want to masturbate today, I’m afraid it’s the Naked Secretary Masturbation Chamber or nothing.”

“Oh, um… boss? Can I ask a question?”

“Yes, Florence?”

“Why is it called the Naked Secretary Masturbation Chamber?”

“That’s a good question, Florence. It’s called that because it’s a chamber, it’s for secretaries to masturbate in, and you’re not allowed to go in there until you’re naked.”

Florence closes her eyes and mutters several obscenities in Chinese under her breath. “Thank you, boss,” she says, aloud. “So I’ll just… I’ll just take off all my clothes, then. In the middle of the office.”

“It’s not mandatory, Florence. You have options. You could simply give your ticket to someone else, and forgo the privilege of masturbation for today.”

Florence is already undoing her skirt. She drops her lab coat on the floor, strips out of her clothes, takes a deep breath, summons up all her courage and steps through the golden door, onto the floor of a live TV talk show studio, where you’re sitting behind a desk. Cameras zoom in on her as the studio audience bursts into applause.

“Ah, Florence. Glad you could make it.”

“...hello, boss.”

“As you can see, Florence, I’ve decided to branch out into the entertainment business. Television is very popular here in Hell. And I’ve decided that a show featuring a bunch of pretty secretaries masturbating naked live on air, while I quiz them, might prove a big hit with our target audience of billions of evil demons and other cosmic entities.”

“...great idea, boss.”

“Give our viewers at home a little twirl, Florence.”

“...yes, boss.” Florence gives a little twirl, exposing her slender figure, small breasts, pert bottom, long legs and silky black bush to the rolling cameras. She walks over to the official Naked Secretary Masturbation Chair, mounted on a swivelling base, and glumly sits down.

Straps pop out of the chair’s arms and legs. They clamp Florence’s ankles in place, holding her legs apart so her pussy is exposed to the whole studio audience, and pin down her wrists. The cameras zoom in, rolling over her body. A nozzle emerges from the tangle of machinery behind the chair, and spritzes Florence down with pink mist as she experimentally tests her bonds.

“What is that… oooh my godd!”

“Jannah juice,” you explain, as Florence begins to sweat and breathe heavily. A close-up of her pussy is displayed on a giant TV screen behind you, showing the viewers at home just how dripping wet it is. “The most potent aphrodisiac in the cosmos. A proper dose this time, not the little squirt we gave you to annoy you earlier. Now, Florence, every time you answer one of my trivia questions correctly, your left arm will be freed, and you will be given thirty seconds to diddle your pussy. Every time you fail to answer, this will happen.”

“What will happen… OWW!” Two clamps on the ends of robot arms pinch Florence’s nipples. Fuzzy tickle-wheels go to work under her arms. A leather strap raises itself between Florence’s legs, and spanks her pussy hard. She squeals as the arms **** her from all directions, strapped down and unable to escape.

“Okay. First question.”

“Wait wait turn it off turn it off!”

“Name ten moons of Jupiter. Go.”