The new nurse

Johanna was dressed to the nines for her first day of work. She was impeccably groomed in the blue medical scrubs they had provided, the fabric shimmering over her curves. Her thick, long brown hair cascaded down her back, the ends dancing against her hourglass figure. She checked her reflection in the mirror and felt a wave of pride wash over her. She looked at herself, entranced by the sight of her long legs and firm buttocks, and knew that even in the simplest of ensembles she was a total knockout. She put on her trainers and headed off to her first day of work.

Stepping into the office, Johanna felt a chill of impending dread. She had expected the typical doctor's surgery, but this one seemed more antiquated than she had imagined. As if on cue, a voice sounded in the darkness: "Hello Johanna," the doctor said. She squinted into the shadows to see the source of the voice and noticed an old man, about 60 years old, with a bald head. Trying to keep her composure, she said in her nicest fake voice, "Hello Doctor M". He took her on a tour and showed her everything she needed to know, but Johanna felt like something was not quite right. The walls seemed to be closing in on her and an oppressive silence filled the air.