Injuries at Work

When I got this job, of course I did not know what to expect. I did say that I would be a slave for people, but as of yet, no one has come in and hurt me. I thought that I might sustain some kind of bruising from getting spanked or something. But this past week I have sustained two very outlandish injuries from working at this job. There is no insurance here, and of course no workman’s comp. I think I may have to change this because honestly, after this week I am starting to be scared. The worst aspect of all this is how the fuck do you explain to people how you got injured? Yes, I could say it was a job-related injury, and then of course whoever asks where I work, and I reply a fetish dungeon, I have no idea what they would think. And these two injuries that I sustained this week were not normal at all to the job. I think that some may have the idea (as I did when I first started working there) that there would be this constant in-and-out parade of perverts I would service nonstop and make shitloads of money. I have learned this is a fallacy. Most of my eight-hour day is spent isolating myself on one of the floors, opening a magazine in my lap so it looks like I’m reading, then passing out and drooling all over myself. NO ONE ever bothers me. They keep all the girls separated. Every two to three hours the telephone will ring or someone will knock at the door and I’ll wake up suddenly and get lipstick smeared across my face or get startled and act like I was doing something important like studying the ins and outs of bondage or practicing dressing up or how to whip people proficiently or how to aim my piss at a target or something. Who the fuck knows?

I should start lifting weights during my off time, because last week I literally threw my shoulder out spanking this “house slave.” Of course I had spanked people before, but this one was literal nonstop spanking for thirty fucking minutes. NON-FUCKING-STOP. I really don’t know how he/she took it. I thought it was great when it was going on, so I think I was ignoring the fact that I was getting massively injured at the time. I really was getting into it, and this little girl/boy took endless fucking slaps with this paddle. Her fucking ass was so red it scared me. But she kept asking for more. I was wondering how the fuck much could she take and was trying to challenge her, so at the time I guess I was ignoring the fact that I barely use my right arm because the most I lift is my gallon bottle of Sunny Delight to mix my vodka with at night. Or a pizza box from Little Caesars. It was very satisfying when it was all over. And li’l Amber’s ass was a bright shade of red. But as I was putting her sweaty corset and skirts into the laundry, I noticed that my shoulder was not working properly. I could not fucking use it.

This went on for three fucking days. I don’t mean three days where my shoulder hurt. I mean three days where I literally could not move it. Then there is the first major problem of my significant other, who knows what my job is but refuses to ever talk about it, and now suddenly I can’t use one arm, and what the hell do I say? Others don’t know what I do. I could say it was a job-sustained injury, but what could have happened when most people think I work at a paper place doing graphic design? At one point, after three days of not being able to use my arm I thought about going to the emergency room. I mean nothing was fucking working. I’m on a ton of pain meds and stuff and am not supposed to feel anything. I think someone could literally throw a knife into my back and I’d think it was a bug bite. I have a very high pain tolerance.

But this was horrible. I didn’t go in because I had no idea of what I would say. I’m not embarrassed of what I do; I think it would be hilarious to tell a doctor that I threw out my shoulder doing a half-hour of constant spanking on this 23-year-old-boy in a corset and a skirt after he spent two hours cleaning the jizz, ass juice, period blood, and old-man sweat off of everything in the three-floor fetish playground I work in. But I don’t have insurance, so I did not go. Finally today - nearly a week later - I started to be able to move it again. That was the first injury of the week. I think that they need to come up with some sort of workman’s comp at this place, because two out of three days I sustained job-related sicknesses and injuries. And it is just-so goddamned hard to explain to the public at large why I am suffering. What can I say?

The second injury came when a fellow came in for a golden shower. Like I have said, I have no problem peeing all over these douchebags, and I actually really like doing it. Plus it pays a lot to pee. Since I’ve started working there I’ve developed this complex now that every time I do urinate, I think, this is worth about $200 dollars and it’s literally going down the toilet. But there can’t always be some eager pervert waiting to drink your pee waiting under you. Some refer to themselves as human toilets. I would have one if they paid my rent. That would be great.

I digress. Like usual, I was up on the second floor drooling on myself when the phone startled me and I wiped the drool off my face as I answered it and I was told to start drinking water because I would be peeing on someone soon. Wonderful. I thought. I already thought I might have to pee, so this was good. I did have one concern. I was on my period at the time and I had not yet done anything like that and I know some people have a problem with that but I was instructed to put a tampon in and like tuck in the string and pee and I’d be fine. That seemed sensible enough. So I started drinking water. A fucking ton. I must have guzzled eight glasses in 30 minutes. Then I got downstairs to the basement where the man was. I had to give him an enema (another money-maker which is easy as hell) and was instructed I’d have to pee on him in 15 minutes. I totally was about to burst then. It sucked. But I kept drinking water. Now the fun part came. This fellow was to have just about every girl there pee on him. There were four of us to do it. All of us are extremely proficient in this.

I was up first. I had to pee so bad and I talked it up so much and to my surprise NOT A DROP would come out. I told him he had to beg. He started begging. I couldn’t. Plus there were girls after me who I was sure had to pee, so I just gave up my place in line.

The second girl comes up. She has been drinking water for an hour now as well. I’ve seen her pee on sooo many people. She gets the same thing. She can’t fucking go. She tells him it’s all his fault (of course) and tells him he’s not begging good enough. I’m thinking this is hilarious. So she steps out of line. The begging starts to get funny at this point. The man really does not know what to say. He’s like, “I want it so bad!!!! PLEASE I WANT TO BE A TOILET!!! PLEASE PEE ON ME!!!” The third girl comes up. Another proficient pisser, she manages to go like a drop in his mouth, and then it stops. She’s waiting over his face trying to pee. I suddenly get the urge that I’m going to fucking burst so I go over his genitals and am gonna just go all over them. But then I get stuck again!!! This has never happened. Then everyone is yelling at this poor man to pee.

All of a sudden it goes silent and the man yells in his most desperate voice, “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WILL SOMEONE PLEASE JUST PEE ON ME!??!?!?!?!” At this statement I have to duck into another room because I am laughing so hard. But I am starting to get this terrible headache and am like totally fucking waterlogged. I really don’t know who’s more frustrated, myself or this man. I am ruining my bladder for this motherfucker.

Finally we decide to get out the potty chair. We put it over his face. It’s my turn again. It has been decided that if we are sitting maybe the peeing will be easier. I still can’t fucking pee, and now I have added a cup of hot coffee to the mix. At this point I am saved by the tampon. All of a sudden, he starts squirming and says, “NO, NO, NO, PLEASE PLEASE NO!!!” It’s really hard to tell in these cases if they’re actually serious or not because they always say no, and there is a code word for when things get too out of control and he’s not using it. He starts to say, “NO, YOU’RE ON YOUR PERIOD... I CAN’T.” Thank Fucking God. I got out of that one. The three other girls are still struggling, and a small trickle of urine ends up on this man. It’s hilarious. I have never seen anything like this. It was beautiful. My period totally got me off the hook with this one.

This was a time when I REALLY wish I had the tape recorder, though. It took literally everything in this man to yell, “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WILL SOMEONE PLEASE JUST PEE ON ME?” It was classic. I felt a little bad for him for a second. But it was more funny than anything. Then I had to deal with this crazy headache.

Of course I could not tell my significant other when I came home that I had a headache because I was waterlogged because I drank too much water to try and piss on this guy and couldn’t. My brain was fucking drowned. It took me two days to get rid of the headache. I never knew this job could be so dangerous. I asked one of my coworkers there who is a med student, and she said that it was a long-term “brain freeze” type thing from drinking a ton of cold water and then hot coffee and that I had to stay out of lighted areas and relax as much as I could.

Jesus Christ. These people are the ones that are supposed to hurt. Not me. Luckily I got paid for that golden shower. He was the wiener that was scared of a tampon. Dude, if you have four chicas fucking pissing straight into your mouth and you’re swallowing it, why in the hell would a non-bloody tampon bother you? People are so goddamned weird. You like shit, you like piss, you like enemas, you like ass-fucking, but girls on their period...that’s just a little over the line. What a weirdo.