No messing around; Straight to Mr. Jacobs.

I groan, but I've been hungry for days already. I could wait a little longer. This whole indicator thing sounded important. I trusted Amber to steer me right.

"Alright, you win. Take me to Mr. Jacobs, please."

"Okay, let's go!" Amber beamed and led me out of the locker room. I suddenly realized that I had seriously overestimated my own ability to walk in the five-inch stilettos. Amber's adorable struggles were no longer so amusing. "You're going to love orientation, provided you pass, of course..."

Out on the office floor again, I took an opportunity to actually look around. The men were largely working as though nothing earth-shattering had just happened, the smug bastards. There were a number of uniformed women about. I recognized most of them as colleagues. They seemed almost like wait staff, carrying this or that for the men or simply standing nearby in silence.

We passed a row of small conference rooms with large windows instead of walls, and I gasped as I saw into the first one. A woman was bound, naked, to an X-shaped frame with some kind of piston machine fucking her frantically with a huge dildo.

Amber kept going as though she hadn't noticed, or didn't want to. We passed other similar rooms, each one with a woman inside, each one in some form of sexual distress. In one, I recognized the petite redhead being callously spit-roasted by two men. It was Rachel, we used to have lunch together sometimes.

I swallowed nervously, trying to ignore how warm I suddenly felt as I watched Rachel take both cocks like a porn star. She had a wild look in her eyes. Was she actually enjoying herself?

Amber continued and I followed. As we turned the corner at the end of the hall, she whispered to me, "Those are the girls who failed their orientation. They're being repurposed, whatever that means. They use the rooms with windows so we don't forget... not that I think I'm ever going to be able to forget any of this."

We passed a few uniformed girls bent over their desks with their legs spread. A man was inspecting them roughly with his hands. Amber hurried us past before I could dwell on it too much.

Finally, we arrived at the corner office on this floor. The door was labeled Scott Jacobs and I scrunched my eyebrows. "Wait, Scott is Mr. Jacobs? Like, that pissant third-rate manager Scott who can't even-"

Amber clamped her hand over my mouth, hissing a warning. She whispered urgently into my ear. "Shut up! You can't use his first name unless he commands it, and you certainly shouldn't call him a pissant! He might actually kill you!"

You couldn't believe what could have happened that would suddenly put a jackass like that in an office like this, and then you remembered an org chart you saw recently. There was a long chain of women managers and you thought to yourself at the time, "how nice."

But then the change happened. And that chain vanished, letting this guy jump all the way up to... you gulp as you remember the title held by the top woman in that chain. Director of Human Resources.

I'm a human, if not quite a person. I'm a resource. I also had a bit of bad history with pissant Scott, now the all-powerful Mr. Jacobs.

"Amber, this is a bad idea. I can't just-" I cut off as the door to the office opened and a stunning woman with a red indicator stepped out, closing the door behind herself.

I looked to Amber for guidance but she just looked at the woman's shoes.

"You're out of compliance." The woman said to me, very matter-of-factly. "Are you here to submit yourself for punishment?"

My eyes widened, but Amber spoke first, her voice barely above a whisper."Forgiveness. She has not yet been orientated. She was hiding in a closet since the change. She is a valid claim, a former member of accounting. I found her, prepared her, and brought her here. May I go, please?"

The woman eyed Amber up and down and then nodded, waving a device over the QR code on Amber's collar. "Very well. This will be recorded. You may go." Amber released a held breath, relieved.

As she turned to leave, she paused to offer me some last-second advice. "Remember what I told you and you'll be fine! Good luck!"

And then she was gone. Lady Red-collar looked me up and down. "I bet you fail." She said simply, and then opened the door and led me through into Scott's office, which had more BDSM furniture in it than the last sex shop I'd set foot in.

The secretary, I think she was a secretary, pointed to an area of floor covered by a large rug and then took a seat on a small stool by the door. Scott Jacobs sat behind his desk, completely ignoring me, apparently busy.