"Who's next up?"
"That would be me," A blond woman pushed herself to her feet. Around her, the waiting room was sterile and dull. A false plant had been placed to one side in the hope that it would introduce some life to the place.
It did not.
The interviewer led her into a smaller room. There was a desk there, and a series of chairs. Two more people were waiting, a man and a woman. They were dressed well, and each bore a vaguely plastic-looking expression of welcome on their face.. They had already talked to several people today and after her, they would talk to several more. She sat down carefully, brushing her dark skirt as she settled.
"You're Lynna Richards, yes?"
"That's right," Lynna said. She smiled at them, though her heart was not fully in it. She was torn with a doubt that she carefully did not allow to show on her face. "I sent you my CV earlier."
"Ah yes," The man said. "You were a secretary at one of the big offices, weren't you?"
"That's right. There was a downturn and they had to get rid of me, but I did good work. You'll see from my references."
"We talked to them already," the woman said. "They were impressive references."
"Thank you," Lynna tried to look confident and at home, but clothes felt strange to her now. She wasn't used to them. They were constrictive and she had a vague feeling that she was doing something wrong by wearing them. Her bra annoyed her. After nearly a month spent naked, Lynna felt oddly out of place in the civilised world.
One month ago, she'd lost her job. It hadn't been an economic downturn. An executive at her old company had gotten a bit too greedy and lost a bit too much money. Of course, the company wasn't going to fire them. Oh no, that would be too much. It was a simple mistake, easily made. Couldn't blame a chap for that, could you? Anyone could have done it! Second chances, don't you know...
Instead, they'd fired a bunch of lower-ranked employees to make up the difference in pay. Lynna had been unfortunate enough to be one of them. She lived in a rented apartment with four other people - three guys and two girls including herself. That day, she'd come home with the bad news that she would not be able to pay that month's rent.
She'd expected to have to work something out with the others. They were friends, after all, and she wasn't worried about being kicked out. Instead, one of them - a man called Trevor - had made a proposition which took her quite by surprise.
He would cover most of her rent by himself so long as she agreed to live by a set of rules as set down by the apartment. Almost as soon as he'd said it, she'd known it would be sexual. Indeed, as the rules kept coming, they grew more and more so. She would be naked at all times. She would obey any command. She could be punished by any member of the apartment for nearly any reason...
The idea had turned her on massively. Even now, the memory made her a little bit wet. Lynna had never been a stranger to her own sexuality, and the picture that Trevor had painted honestly intrigued her.
The only one who hadn't been interested was her best friend, Samantha. A freckled redhead and the other woman who lived in the apartment. She'd been horrified, pointing out how degrading and abusive it all could be. Yet even despite her protests, Lynna had agreed to become the apartment's slave so long as her rent was paid.
The following month made her head spin. She'd been pushed harder and further than she had ever thought before. She'd been fucked, used, made to masturbate, recorded mid-orgasm and climaxed more times than she could remember. She'd been degraded, humiliated, shamed and toyed with by her new masters.
She'd loved it all. During that time, Lynna had discovered a part of herself that she had not expected to be there. She'd always been sexually open. She'd always enjoyed her body and loved to fuck and be fucked. But her life as a slave had been so much more intense. She had started to realise that she was sinking deeper and deeper into it. This new existence was gradually subsuming her. She woke up each day wondering what new things would be done to her and anticipating her punishments and her rewards.
Even Samantha, who had been against the whole thing, gradually became more and more okay with what Lynna was doing. It took a heart-to-heart chat before she finally admitted it even to herself, but Samantha was just as in love with the idea of using and fucking Lynna as Lynna was with the idea of being used and fucked.
But all good things did not last forever. Lynna knew that her new existence could not be a permanent one. The helpless feeling of being forced to rely on others was fun and intoxicating when one had a fetish for being a slave. But at some point, she really would need her own source of money again.
That was why she was here now. An invitation had been extended due to her previous role, and she had been allowed to interview for a position not unlike her last one. If she got it, she'd be making more money than she used to and be able to cover the rent again.
But her days as a slave would be over.
That was stipulated in the contract too. She was the apartment's whore for as long as she had no money of her own. The moment she did, she was equal to them again. Her new life, her new existence of pleasure and humiliation would come to an abrupt end.
She didn't know if she wanted it to. As the interviewers gave her a short speech about the company - nothing she didn't already know - Lynna reflected on the two paths ahead of her.
If she got the job, her time as a slave would be over. No one would speak of it again and it would go back to the way it had been before. If she failed to get the job, she'd be punished. Her clothes would be taken away and she would be forced to apologise to each of her flatmates personally. Then, they'd vote on a group punishment to really drive in her failure.
Lynna felt a flush of heat bloom between her legs. Shifting slightly on the chair, she tugged down her skirt with one hand.
There was nothing sinister going on. There were no toys, no hidden traps, no fiendish orders or tricks to intentionally force her to fail the interview. She had the credentials, she had the history. As far as she could see the only thing that mattered here was whether she honestly wanted things to turn out one way or the other.
And the problem with that was that she didn't even know the answer to this herself.
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