Yes, Proctor

“Subject, Place your wrists, ankles, and neck on the indicated areas of the seat and then wait for further instructions.”

She saw that areas of the arm rest began to glow as if the metal were being heated. She tentatively touched her finger to the area and found it to be as cool as the rest of the seat. Slightly less scared at those, she aligned her wrists with the highlights. Stirrups appeared from the bottom of the chair, lit in the same fashion. Slightly more scared at those, she stepped delicately into the footholds and pressed her neck back into the small recess behind her.

The chair began to hum at a low resonance, and Katelyn felt a tug as the restraints were pulled down and secured by magnetism. Katelyn gave each one an exploratory tug. She could slide them less than an inch side-to-side, but she could not lift them off the metal chair.

Katelyn shifted in her seat and she bit her lower lip unconsciously. There was a long pause. Could have been a minute, could have been twenty. It gave her another chance to take stock. She had lost her internship, her college career, her apartment, and most of her friendships to her burning kinks. And yet, she had still chosen to drive to a warehouse in the middle of nowhere, strip down, and let herself be strapped in for a punishment by at least three people she couldn’t even see.

She’d never been so humiliated. Or, so fucking hot! The soaked panties she’d sent through the compartment were unmistakable evidence, which the pool in her seat only confirmed.

“Sir… I mean, Proctor?” She finally broke and asked. She was strapped in here, nude. The least they could do was not leave for their coffee break.

“Subject lasted 14:27,” the second male voice said.

“An acceptable time,” The female voice confirmed, “Punishment will not be extended.” She sounded almost annoyed at that. The woman seemed to really have it in for her, and Katelyn couldn’t figure out why.

“Begin.” The deep voice said.

Crack! “Yaaaahhhh!” Katelyn screamed out as the seat abruptly charged with electricity. It was like having a stun gun jammed into her butt cheek. Her hips leapt off the seat, but being secured to the chair she couldn’t get up and away from it. When she sat back down, the electricity shocked her all over again. Picking up her hips splayed her knees open and gave the mirror an extremely lewd view. But given the choice between that exposure and the burning in her ass, she chose the former - until her muscles gave out and she dropped into the seat, only to start it all over.

Katelyn played this little up-and-down game for an indeterminate amount of time, until her legs shook with fatigue and her body was covered in a sheen of sweat. Finally, her legs and she plopped down into the chair. Nothing happened.

“Oh thank God.” Katelyn said under her breath.

“You should be thanking us.” The female voice said.

“Thank you, Proctor.” Katelyn said with heavy breaths.

“Better. Now she can begin the Process.”

“Thank you again for the experience, Proctor. But can I please go home for the night?” Katelyn took the chance and asked. She’d been good, right? “I am totally exhausted. I promise I will return in the morning and begin the Process then.”

“Subject, did you just ask... for a nap?” The female voice sounded thunderstruck.

“...Yes, Proctor.” Katelyn responded, suddenly feeling very sheepish. Like a little girl who had asked to fly the plane. Somehow it was even more embarrassing than the show she had just put on.

“Subject, you were referred to the Facility because you could not sustain your current lifestyle. You destroyed your career prospects and all relationships. You have demonstrated a severe lack of judgment up until tonight.” She continued.

“Yes, Proctor.” It wasn’t a question, but an accusation. And yet Katelyn couldn’t help but agree.

“You were given multiple opportunities to opt out of the Process and you have chosen to stay and begin. The Process will continue until we decide it is concluded, do you understand?”

“Yes, Proctor.” Said Katelyn, dropping her head.

“Now we can finally begin.” She said. The chair began to hum again, and moved! The legs swung up and out, while the backrest slid back to a 45-degree angle, turning it from a perverted space-age armchair into a perverted space-age recliner. The stirrups swung wider, splaying Katelyn out like an upside down Y. She couldn’t lift her head to see, but she felt something swing up between her legs and rest over her pubic area. It concealed it from the Proctors’ view, but Katelyn doubted that it was intended for modesty.