The Daily Grind – A Week Later

The alarm blared at 5:45 AM, the same as every morning now. Mary groaned, slapping it silent, and lay there for a moment staring at the ceiling. Her body ached. Her jaw was sore. Her pussy felt raw and tender from yesterday’s endless rotations of cocks. Even her tits were heavy and sensitive, marked faintly with suction bruises from over-eager donors.

Another day. The same fucking thing.

She dragged herself out of bed, already dreading the uniform hanging on the back of the door like a accusation. The absurd white “Priority Seduction” outfit stared back at her — tiny nurse hat, **** white choker, shirt two sizes too small, skirt that might as well have been a belt, and the sheer stockings with garters that dug into her softening hips.

She hated it.

But she put it on anyway.

Morning Routine

Tom was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed in his bright red WANKER shirt, steel chastity cage locked tight around his straining little cock. His eyes devoured her as she dressed — the way her massive tits spilled dangerously out of the shirt, the way the skirt rode up to show the bottom of her ass when she bent over.

“Morning…” he said hoarsely, voice thick with constant, denied lust.

Mary sighed, adjusting her choker. “Morning, love.”

She turned to face him. Tom’s eyes were glued to her chest. His caged cock twitched helplessly, leaking onto the floor.

“You look… fuck,” he groaned. “I want you so badly. I dream about bending you over every single night.”

Mary walked over and cupped his cheek. “I know, baby. I love you. But you know the law. Touching me outside the clinic is treason now. They monitor everything.”

Tom’s face twisted with frustration and arousal. “This cage is killing me. I’m hard twenty-four hours a day thinking about what you do at work. Coming home covered in other men’s cum… dressed like a porn star…”

Mary kissed his forehead gently. “I’m tired, Tom. Every day it’s the same. Wake up, put on this ridiculous whore uniform, go milk thirty to fifty men, come home exhausted, and let you lick me clean while you whimper in your cage. I love you more than anything… but you’re not making this easier.”

Tom looked ashamed but couldn’t hide his throbbing erection. “I’m sorry. I just… I can’t help it.”

The Commute

Tom drove her again today. He always did now — a small act of devotion. In the car, Mary tugged at her skirt for the hundredth time, but it refused to cover more than the tops of her stockings.

“Ivana’s getting worse,” she muttered. “She keeps trying to one-up everyone. Swallows every load like it’s a competition. And Katherine — Doctor Bitch — is pushing the pregnancy quotas hard.”

Tom gripped the wheel tighter. “They really want you getting pregnant by strangers?”

“Only ‘approved genetics’,” Mary said bitterly. “For the purity of the UK. It’s disgusting.”

She reached over and gently rubbed the front of his cage. “Poor baby. Constantly horny. Constantly denied. I wish I could fuck you properly.”

Tom whimpered. “Just come home full tonight. Please. I need to taste it.”

Tom whimpered. “Just come home full tonight. Please. I need to taste it.”

The Meeting – New Blood

When they arrived at the clinic, all senior nurses were summoned to the main auditorium. Katherine, Ivana Swallows, Sally, Aunty, and Mary walked in together.

Director Harlan stood on stage in a fresh lab coat.

“Hello ladies,” he said with **** cheer. “I have something important for you all. We’re bringing in new blood — civilian volunteers and transfers from other facilities to help with the increased quotas. You four will help train them in this new era of the UK.”

The four experienced nurses exchanged uneasy glances.

“Come on, let’s welcome them,” Harlan said, leading them to the large adjoining lounge.

The moment they stepped inside, all four women froze in shock.

The hall was packed with normal women. Housewives. Office workers. Teachers Mothers. Women in jeans, sweaters, hoodies, sensible shoes. No plunging necklines. No thigh-high stockings. No garters. Just… civilians.

Mary grabbed Sally’s arm. “What the fuck?”

Sally shrugged, looking equally stunned. “This can’t be good.”

Ivana’s arrogant expression faltered for a second. “They’re bringing these women in? They’ll be useless.”

Aunty whispered a quiet prayer.

Mary’s internal monologue raced: They’re going to turn normal women into what I’ve become. This is spreading. This humiliation isn’t stopping — it’s growing.

The Announcement

Harlan stepped onto the small stage at the front of the lounge.

“Greetings, everyone. I’m here to welcome our four star nurses who will help train you in this new era of the United Kingdom.”

He gestured dramatically.

“Here in the facility we pride ourselves on professionalism and doing our jobs to the highest standard. We are saving our race and keeping the UK pure — one jerking off at a time.”

A few nervous laughs rippled through the civilian women. Most looked horrified.

“Katherine, Mary, Sally, and Ivana — these nurses are the best at semen extraction. They have done it hundreds — thousands — of times! You will learn from them. You will do your jobs. Now give them a round of applause!”

The applause was lukewarm at best. Many of the new women looked pale. Some were already tearing up.

Mary **** a smile as the four of them were ushered onto the stage. Sally, ever the exhibitionist, revelled in it — adjusting her top to show more cleavage and swaying her hips playfully. Ivana stood with arrogant poise, chest thrust out. Aunty remained dignified. Mary just wanted to disappear.

The Live Demo

Harlan clapped his hands. “Ladies, we need a live demonstration so our new recruits can see exactly how it’s done. Mary and Ivana — you’re up first.”

Mary paled. “Sir, I—”

“No time for modesty,” Harlan said sharply. “This is national duty.”

Two chairs were placed back-to-back. A tray of supplies between them: gloves, lube, cups, and now — under new rules — bottles of warming oil and vibrating rings.

Two male donors were brought out. Both young, fit, and clearly pre-screened as “high genetic value.”

Mary was paired with a shy 20-year-old. Ivana got a confident, well-hung 24-year-old.

The new civilian women watched in stunned silence.

Mary sat in her chair, legs spread, skirt riding up completely. She oiled her hands and began stroking the young man’s cock with slow, sensual movements while her massive tits heaved in the tiny shirt.

This is so humiliating, she thought. Teaching normal women how to become state whores.

Ivana, never one to be outdone, dropped to her knees dramatically and deepthroated her donor in one smooth motion, making loud, wet, obscene sounds while glaring competitively at Mary.

“Like this, new girls,” Ivana purred between slurps. “You worship the cock. You make them addicted to you.”

Mary reluctantly followed suit, taking her donor into her mouth while maintaining eye contact with the horrified audience. Her thoughts raced:

Tom is probably watching this on the feed right now. Seeing me **** myself on stage in front of civilians. God, I’m sorry, baby…

The demo escalated quickly. Both nurses ended up riding their donors reverse cowgirl on the chairs, massive tits bouncing wildly, skirts flipped up, moaning for the audience while the new recruits watched in mortified silence.

Ivana came first, loudly announcing her orgasm while her donor filled her. Mary followed shortly after, biting her lip as she clenched around the young cock.

When both men had finished, the nurses stood, cum leaking down their thighs, and faced the crowd.

Harlan beamed. “That, ladies, is how you extract semen for Britain. Any questions?”

Dead silence.

One civilian woman in the front row raised a trembling hand. “Do… do we have to swallow?”

Ivana laughed arrogantly. “Only if you want to be the best.”

Mary said nothing. She was already thinking about going home to Tom — exhausted, leaking, dressed like a whore, ready to let her broken husband lick her clean while he whimpered in his cage.

The daily grind continued.

And it was only getting worse.

Later That Evening – Home

Mary dragged herself through the front door, uniform stained and dishevelled. Tom was waiting on his knees, red shirt bright under the lamp.

He crawled to her immediately, pressing his face between her thighs.

“Tell me everything,” he begged. “Every detail.”

Mary sighed, exhausted but resigned, running her fingers through his hair as he began licking her.

“Another long day, baby. Another day of cheating on you in front of an audience…”

The cycle continued — tireless, relentless, degrading.

And deep down, Mary was starting to accept that this was her new normal.

To Be Continued…