The dim gray light of the overcast sky seeped in through the office windows, blinding to anyone who dared to look away from their monitors. Martin's own cubicle was obnoxiously close to the skyline, so the sunless sky always made his computer screens near illegible in the morning. He had no such issue now, just after lunch, so the mail alert icon was clear as day when it popped up.
Sender: Compliance Dept. (comply@pinnacle.com)
Subject: Compliance Training - Wednesday 14:20
There wasn't a point in reading the e-mail itself; it was just the same message every two weeks or so about arriving at the compliance department on the 8th floor. He honestly considered marking his calendar with the training time - as it never seemed to change between the weeks - but something felt off about assuming when he'd have to arrive. Logical as it was, it made more sense to just accept them telling him when to arrive, as they always have. He checked the clock: 14:03. He was ahead of schedule on his weekly quota, so he had no qualms with leaving now. The elevator ride was always short at this time of day, but you could never be too sure.
Martin stood himself upright as he dredged into the elevator. He took the time to adjust his navy tie in its clip, and tidy the rest of his outfit. He always made a point to remove his suit jacket after returning from lunch, so nothing stood between the walls and his hairy chest but his white button-up, tucked into his navy dress pants and fastened there with the help of his brown leather belt. That belt and his loafers shared the same dulled color, their sheen eroded with age and use. His pant leg rose just enough that his thin black socks were narrowly visible, covering his bony ankles, and held taut by an unseen pair of suspenders hugging just below his knees. His spectacles sat on the bridge of his nose, the glass kept moderately clean.
The elevator door opened to the 8th floor lobby. Compared to every other floor, the entryway was compact, and felt more like the waiting room for his family physician. The off-white cubicles and pinewood wallpaper of his own floor felt dirty and worn compared to the sterile cream and bright aqua blues that painted the walls, floor, ceiling, and even the chairs. He raised his right wrist to check the time: 14:06. Maybe he should've stayed at his desk a bit longer.
He approached the windowed stall, where an eerily serene attendant sat. Their smile felt unnatural... not so much forced, as it was doll-like. The orderly method in which they kept their uniform only reinforced that judgment. The perfectly smooth skin of their face, and their neatly kept auburn hair, radiant in the light of the room... Martin scratched his fuzzy jawline, feeling more unkempt the longer he stood there. "Excuse me," he croaked. They gave no hint of hearing him, if only because their eyes had been trained on him since the elevator doors opened. He flashed his employee ID. "Martin Moore, 43rd floor, I'm here for compliance training at 14:20?"
Their face barely seemed to move as they responded, "Thank you for complying!" Even as inhuman as their actions seemed, there was a warmth that came with hearing them speak. "Please take a number from the ticket printer here!" Before his hand even reached the printer, a ticket reading the number "314" shot out from inside. He ripped the ticket, and waddled to the chairs behind him. His ass had barely grazed the seat when the screen above the attendant's stall read the very same number. Given literally no one else was in the waiting room, there was no room for surprise in Martin's expression. All the same, not even a minute had passed since his arrival, so as far as he was concerned, he should still have another 13 minutes.
As he walked to the door across the room from the elevator, a screen sitting just above it blinked on, reading the message: "Please Comply," along with a map of the floor displayed before him. An arrow shot forward from the elevator - no doubt, the one he had only just emerged from - and pointed past the door in front of him to a room three doors down and to his left. The room in question was blinking green on screen. He moved in kind, doing his best to keep his posture as he walked down the hall. As far as he could tell, there were others undergoing training as well, but the floor was eerily silent. He could hear the ringing in his ears louder than any ambience of the building. The door to his training room was thundering when he turned the handle.
He entered to a room just as sterile as the rest of the floor before him. There was maybe four meters of space between each wall of the room, and the wall closest to the door was covered by a large monitor turned off, a void of black in the white and blue space. The only furniture beside that was the chair in the middle of the room. Martin blinked at the floor below it, as he could swear it was bolted or merged with the chair legs.
As he closed the door behind him, the monitor lit up, with a similar cream white as the rest of the floor. A voice, as if reading from a script, rang out from the monitor. "Hello: Martin Moore. Thank you for complying." How could such a monotonous voice make him feel so warm..? "Please take a seat." Just as he rested upon the chair, the voice repeated: "Thank you for complying. Pinnacle Unlimited appreciates your diligence and compliance with the company policies."
"Begin Compliance Report."
The words were followed by the screen shifting and pulsing with a series of pastel circles emerging from the center. They were a redundancy at this stage, as Martin was already statuesque in his seat, entranced and prepared to answer the voice.
"Records show that you have attended: 23 compliance meetings since your employment. Please confirm by stating your employment date."
His mouth moved automatically, and the words formed themselves. "I began my employment on May 24, 2003."
"Thank you for complying." The warmth returned to him. "As the next stages of the report are filled, we will continue with routine scanning, to ensure all stages of the report are filled promptly. Please stand." His body responded immediately. Behind him, the chair began to shift and slide back into a compartment in the wall behind him. "Please confirm your current quota status."
"Quota for the previous two weeks were completed at their respective end dates. Current quota is 60% complete."
"Thank you for complying." Were he more conscious, he might understand now where the warmth came from. A beam of red light ran down his body from his left, as the next question came forth: "Please confirm the amount of Pinnacle Unlimited brand coffee mixture has been consumed during the previous period."
"I have consumed approximately one cup of coffee from the break room per day, as requested by the company." The beam was just past his waist now.
"Thank you for complying. Please confirm your current marital status."
"Married." Halfway down his shins.
"Are there any noteworthy changes to your current relationship?" The beam had finished running over his body as the question came out. A new prompt emerged before Martin could begin speaking: "Please remove your trousers, underwear, and any other material that may hinder the second stage of the scanning process, as you answer the earlier question."
He reached to his belt, as his voice droned: "My husband is growing irritable over our sex life. His enjoyment of using me to achieve his own pleasure has been overcome by a concern over my own. He's remarked that he doesn't know the last time I've visibly orgasmed while having sex with him. It's been nearly a year, and he's grown dissatisfied with me dodging the question all the time." As he continued, his pants and briefs fell to reveal a metal chastity cage encasing his cock - flaccid only due to the cage's restraint - with a pair of blush nuts squishing against the bottom of his member. "He wants me to remove the cage, or at least tell him where I got it from."
There was a pause. "You will receive an e-mail and a letter at later dates, both giving you further instructions on handling this situation." The absence of the usual 'thank you for complying' was stark. He didn't do something wrong, did he...? Even as his conscious mind began to emerge and quietly ponder if he made a mistake, his shoes were removed, and the red light had scanned over his genitals. "The scan has been completed. Please make note of any abnormalities, such as premature releases or undesirable thoughts."
"None."
The voice finally relieved him with the response he was looking for: "Thank you for complying." As the words danced in his ear, his conscious mind slipped away in the warmth coursing through his body. "Compliance report has been completed. Pinnacle Unlimited appreciates your compliance and commitment to achieving the company's standards. Your participation in the compliance program is an important step in the company's growth."
"Begin Compliance Training."
The pastel circles changed their pattern, intensifying in speed and size. Below him, a dildo emerged, yielding about 8 inches of length and 6 inches in circumference at its widest. Martin stepped back and began to squat down on the member beneath him. His husband had made good use of his ass before, but recent events had left him time to tighten up, and the dildo did not slip into his hole quite as easily as normal. He stifled a moan, but his efforts were not abated. The tip slipped inside him soon enough, and after a moment of consuming the rest, Martin steadied himself on his right hand and began to work himself on the tool. His own dick throbbed in its prison as he adjusted himself with each thrust down, until finally he hit the sweet spot.
With his prostate struck, he fixed himself in place, and bobbed on the member in an arc that ensured he would continue to press his buttons just right. His left hand shot up in a salute, thumb rested above his forehead, right about where his hairline was maybe a decade ago. The words were written deep in his subconscious after months of training, even as they continued to form one after another on the pulsating screen before him, and now echoed by his voice:
"I am a compliant worker of Pinnacle Unlimited.
I relinquish my mind, body, and pleasure to my company's growth.
My loyalty and compliance are offered only to Pinnacle Unlimited.
My efforts will serve only Pinnacle Unlimited.
I will not seek out any growth or pleasure of my own.
I will perform my duties adequate to the company's standards.
I only seek to comply."
His body remembered the pattern, but he was still subtly pent up from the last week. The coffee could only dampen his libido so well, but now that he was mid-training and his husband had been using him to entertain his needs less and less, he was already so close to release. Martin knew it wasn't yet time, though. As he repeated his mantra for a third time, he began to stutter and gasp between words, doing his best to hold himself back. "I... I ah... only seek to cum-- comply...!" The robotic tone was cracking as he bounced on the dildo.
"Thank you for complying, Martin Moore. Begin release." With his trigger pulled, all he could do was let his dam break. White seed dribbled and sputtered out of his restrained cock, drooling down his emptying balls, and seeping into a compartment that emerged from the floor just moments before the command was given. His orgasm ran through his body in a white hot fury, and for just a moment, all he could do was shout in pleasure. He had barely allowed the waves of ecstasy to wash over him before he began chanting his mantra once more, solidifying his compliance, associating pleasure with obedience, trading satisfaction for satisfaction. There was no need to overachieve, no need for slacking off, no need for quitting or betraying his company. What could offer him more in life than simply performing his duty at Pinnacle Unlimited?
"Thank you for complying, Martin Moore. Begin release." Again, his orgasm hit him, though his body was not quite as pent up as before. The semen that leaked from his dick spilled slowly into the compartment, joining the last load he unleashed. He was panting out the words of his mantra now, but his pose was still strong. There wasn't any reason to stop; he knew when to stop deep down.
"Thank you for complying, Martin Moore. Begin release." He could barely feel any orgasm this time, but he could definitely feel the ejaculate force itself down his cock. There was barely any cum left in his balls, but it found its way out of his body and into the container below. "End Compliance Training." With those words, the rocking of his hips stopped, and his saluting hand lowered. The compartment below him retracted, taking his semen for a reason he didn't care to know. It wasn't his anymore, not even the small pool of it that sat between his nuts and his caged cock, which soon found itself as a stain in his white briefs as he sat up and pulled his pants back up.
"Your compliance is appreciated," the voice droned. "The efforts of diligent and loyal employees like yourself are what keep this company growing strong. Please return to your cubicle and continue your hard work." With his uniform reassembled, he turned mindlessly to the door and opened it, as the chair slid back into place behind him.
The door shuts behind him, leaving him in a soundless void. He doesn't even register the droning of the elevator as he ascends back to the 43rd floor. It's only when he feels the cushion of his office chair that he comes to. The only evidence of his training he can recognize is the soreness in his seat, the ache of his emptied nuts, and an unopened e-mail that's swiftly deleted.