Half Spanish Helena has landed her dream job as a personal assistant to a senior doctor in an institute based up in the mountains of Andorra. She thinks that her CV impressed, but what she doesn't know is it is the photo that she attached that got her the job, and thanks to facial recognition software secrets from her past are going to be revealed, photos will emerge that show the doctor the kind of girl she used to be.
This short story features scenes of sex that could be considered to be of dubious consent.
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Helena’s New Job
Layout Copyright © 2021 by PMO Publishing. Published 2021 by PMO Publishing. E-book design by PMO Publishing. Cover art by PMO Publishing. Contact: [email protected]
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the authors permission.
Authors note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.
A note from the Author
More Naughty Stories from PMO Publishing
Fulfilling Her Fantasy
Bestiality, Incest & Rape
Raped On Flasher Street
Raped In The Ruins
Pillaged By The Pack
Wrong Place – Wrong Time
Gang Rape Her!
She had been nineteen at the time, and a little naive.
His idea had sounded good after half a bottle of cheap white wine, her head had been spinning and her rebellious streak was at its most intense.
Her daddy had lectured her the previous evening, complaining that at her age she should have been dating guys that were her peers, not some dinosaur. The guy in question had been Gerald and twenty one years her senior. It was a significant age gap, of course she acknowledged that, but he was far from a fossil, and the moment her daddy had said no, well, he could have been ninety and she'd still have fucked him, just to be defiant.
Tipsy on the wine and his smooth talk she had soon found herself stripped naked with her hands tied behind her back with a bright red ball gag secured tightly between her teeth.
Gerald had changed the second she'd been incapacitated, his attitude toward her suddenly cold and stern... he had become so dominant.
A little shocked, but still trusting she had remained on her knees as steel clamps were tightened onto her erect nipples. Tingling had shifted to acute pain, tears had welled in her eyes as a tortured groan forced its way past the gag. Against her will and all the odds she had cum as Gerald twisted the clamps and took a series of explicit photographs of her punishment and bondage.
She had no idea how expressive her eyes had been as he pushed her over the edge, she just knew that what had been inflicted upon her must never happen again. Her own emotions had scared her, made her feel like a freak, after all how could any sane girl get turned on by such abuse and degradation.
I will never allow myself to feel like that again she had told herself firmly as she crept from his apartment in the middle of the night. So I'm afraid this is goodbye Gerald, you won't ever see me again.
And it was a vow that she managed to keep...
At least until she reached the age of twenty five!
The job market hadn't been very kind to Helena, and after struggling through college she had only managed to achieve basic salary in what everyone agreed were dead end positions.
I should aim higher she'd often told herself, due to her Spanish mother and British father she was fluently bilingual, a conversational grasp of German and French also looked good on her CV.
“I should take advantage of my language abilities.” she also stated aloud on many occasions, after all, how many people could say that they spoke four languages?
She had looked at translation jobs, but although fluent she wasn't officially qualified. For a while she'd tried free-lancing, but the clients wanted everything for nothing, and the “gigs” as they called them were few and far between. She earned little more than pocket money by going on her own.
And then an advert caught her eye. The position was in administration, a doctor in a private clinic was looking for someone, fluent in several different languages, to take over his paperwork headaches leaving him free to concentrate more time on his patients.
Immediately Helena had applied, glossing her CV as much as she dared. It was the first job that she'd seen that really set her heart racing.
The reply had come back within twenty four hours, and she had gasped at how positive and enthusiastic it had been.
“Native level fluency in Spanish is a prerequisite.” the Doctor had stated, “Because we are based in Andorra... I hope that the thought of working away from home doesn't put you off!”
Helena had giggled. How could working in Andorra put me off, Spain to the south, France to the north, and Andorra in-between nestled in the Pyrenees, it sounds like heaven to me.
“It isn't an issue for me,” she'd responded enthusiastically as her confidence began to grow, “In fact I'd relish staying in a Spanish speaking country for a while.”
The discussions had continued over the next few days, and two weeks later Helena had been jetting south filled with excitement and hope... her position guaranteed.
“Mine is a specialist practice.” Doctor Hans Heubner had stated when Helena sat in his plush, oak panelled office feeling a little overwhelmed. “As you know this is a correctional facility as well as a voluntary clinic. In other words we treat the convicted, and also those aware that, although innocent and spotless now, will be compelled to eventually commit the crime, those that are sure that if not today, or tomorrow, some time in the future they will submit to the thoughts and urges that torment them.”
“What kind of criminals do you treat?” Helena asked, wondering why the doctor had failed to disclose exactly where the speciality of his practice lay.
“Sexual criminals.” he stated casually, “But surely you were aware, did you not undertake your own due diligence before agreeing to take this position?”
Helena had to admit she did feel a little “blonde” not have given her new employer even the most cursory of Google searches. So I guess it's my own fault I didn't know, the doctor is making it clear he wasn't trying to hide anything from me. So I shouldn't act shocked.
Unsure how to respond she gave a coy smile and shrugged, “I guess I was just so excited about starting a new job that it slipped my mind, and anyway, the way I was looking at it, I'm your PA, so it's not like I'm going to have much contact with your patients... just handle the paperwork... Right?”
“You are possibly correct,” the German doctor chuckled, “But who can really say what will happen in the future.”
Helena felt his eyes on her and suppressed a small shudder, the way that he so openly studied her breasts across his desk was quite disturbing. Quickly she attempted to break his focus and tried to draw his attention elsewhere.
“You say they are sexual criminals? Can you explain a little more?”
Doctor Heubner shrugged almost dismissively. “Many of my voluntary patients are basically harmless. Some are fetishists that are worried that their cravings and tendencies might push them into more serious and perverted acts upon the unwilling. The kind of men who steal girls’ underwear from changing rooms in gyms and swimming pools, they fear that their compulsion might drive them eventually to force a girl on some dark side street to surrender her panties and possibly something much more valuable. Others are obsessed by a particular woman, a friend, neighbour, co-worker, barmaid, even just some girl they see every morning on the bus to work... stalker types who fear that eventually... well, I think you are probably following the theme.”
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Mikka liest das Leben...
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