It's more than just a job.
*
Chapter 1
"Oh Mistress, I love your fingers in my pussy!" I was moaning as I felt yet another of her fingers joining in on the stretching of my insides. In truth it did hurt a bit, but it was a good hurt, the kind that tests your limits and gets the endorphins pumping. Now, if I could just fit her thumb in too, that would be her whole hand inside me and that would be a first. The thought of that made me a little anxious, but honestly, I'd do it for her right now if she wanted me to. That's how much I love my mistress.
*
I wasn't always so head over heels for her. It had started out as a simple business relationship. A well-to-do executive needed a bit of arm candy and a broke college student desperately needed money. You can probably guess which one I was.
I grew up in a shitty little town with no real opportunities, so as soon as I graduated high school I packed up and hit the road. Headed off to college in the big city. It was a great experience, but also a very expensive one, and after two semesters I found myself flat broke. So I answered an ad in the college newspaper. 'Girl Friday,' it said, 'Female executive needs go-to girl. Hours and duties vary. Excellent compensation package!' I really perked up at that last line.
The interview was, well, frankly weird. If it had been a man interviewing me it would have been a sexual harassment lawsuit all gift-wrapped with a bow on top. But the interviewer was a woman and I didn't know exactly where the line was drawn in such a situation. Probably still sexual harassment now that I think of it, but I did mention that I was pretty desperate for cash, right? So I stuck it out.
The woman conducting the interview was tall and blonde with high cheekbones, her hair pulled back in a severe little bun and half-rim glasses. She had a very commanding presence about her. Beautiful too, in a sexy librarian sort of way. Add to that the tight-fitting dress she wore and her stockings with the seam up the back and I'd say she was a knockout.
She never invited me to sit during the entire interview, which was odd, nor did she sit. She just kept circling me, eyeing me up and down as I stood just inside the door of her office. "My name is Karin," she said, "with human resources. I assume you're here about the employment ad."
"Yes, ma'am," I answered, my eyes downcast, feeling too intimidated to meet her gaze.
"Do you like my stockings?" she asked. I was a little taken aback by the question. Without hesitating she continued, "You've been staring at my legs since I walked in. So I think you either like my stockings or you like my legs. Which is it?"
"Uh, uh," I stammered, "I don't know."
"Surely you must have some idea," Karin insisted as she took my hand and placed it on her thigh. "Which is it, the stocking or the leg? Which turns you on?"
"Uh, both, I guess," was my non-committal reply.
"Can't make up your mind, hmm?" she said. "Then we shall give you a test."
I watched in shock as my interviewer hiked up her dress far enough to unhook one stocking from her garter belt. She then proceeded to roll it down her leg to expose bare skin above her knee. Karin took my one hand and placed it on her bare thigh while she put my other hand on the stocking-clad side.
"There," she said, "which one do you like better?"
I wasn't sure how to answer, but I finally managed to choke out a reply. "It's your legs, ma'am. I like your legs," was my timid response, "they're very sexy."
"I should hope so," she said, "I work very hard to keep them that way. Are you willing to work hard ..." She paused, looked down on my application for a second and then finished with, "Charlotte?"
My god. She had to look up my name. Here she's got me feeling her up and she didn't even know my name yet! "Yes, ma'am," was my only reply.
"Good," she said leaning back against the edge of the desk, "now get on your knees and show me." I hesitated, not really believing what she was asking me to do, so she repeated her request more sternly and with more detailed instructions. "Either get down on your knees and start licking my pussy or find the door, Charlotte."
"Yes, ma'am," I responded and dropped to my knees. Seeing that I was ready to obey, Karin lifted her dress to give me access. I was treated to the sight of her beautiful shorn pussy that was already moist with anticipation. I haven't eaten a lot of pussy in my lifetime, in fact only once during my freshman year, but I was giving it my all for this interview.
"Don't forget about fingers, Charlotte," Karin was saying as I ran my tongue over and around her smooth mound, "I like to feel fingers when I'm being licked -- two fingers to be exact." I did as she asked and parted her with my index and middle finger. She was extremely wet and my digits slipped in with ease. I couldn't believe I was doing this. For a job interview! What had I gotten myself into?
Just as I was beginning to wonder if she expected me to take her all the way to the peak, Karin abruptly commanded me to stop and stood up. She pulled her dress back down and smoothed out any wrinkles. "Your turn," she said, "undress and bend over the desk." I hesitated for only a second before complying with her order. I unbuttoned my blouse and cast it aside and then removed my bra.
"Real or fake," Karin asked as her gaze fell upon my chest. I assumed she meant my breasts.
"Real," I replied, "I can't afford enhancement."
"Nice," she said as she cupped my breasts in her hands, "about a 34C?"
"34B" was my honest answer.
"Good. Let's get those pants off," she was insisting. "Quickly now, I haven't got all day."
I dropped my trousers and my panties into a puddle around my ankles and stepped out of them.
"Did you forget something, Charlotte?", Karin asked, "I believe you were supposed to be bending over my desk." And I felt her hand between my shoulder blades, pushing me down. The desk was polished wood and it was cold on my skin as I bent over. "Good, good," my interviewer praised when I did as she had asked, "but you didn't do it until I reminded you. For that you will receive punishment."
She said it so matter-of-factly I almost didn't catch it at first. 'Oh, isn't the sky a lovely shade of blue today, Charlotte, and by the way you're going to be punished.' Bizarre! But my body betrayed me and I felt my nipples hardening at the thought of what Karin might do to punish me. Or maybe it was the cold desk. Oh, who am I fooling, it was probably both.
"Let's see," she mused, "I think three ought to do it."
"Three what?" I wondered. And then I felt the strap hit me square on my ass. I don't know where she was hiding it, certainly not in that skin-tight dress she was wearing, but Karin managed to produce a short, leather strap about an inch wide from somewhere. I know this because she showed it to me after it connected with my ass as if to say, 'I want you to see what I'm punishing you with.'
"Oww!" I cried out.
"Silence!" Karin commanded, "If I hear you complain again, I will double the number of lashes. I'll let you slide for now since you're still learning and I'm feeling generous. Do you think I'm being generous, Charlotte?"
Thwack!
I felt the strap connect with my butt again.
"Yes, ma'am," I replied, "very generous." The sting was intense, but I wasn't about to mention it.
"Good," she said as I felt the strap land for the third, and what I hoped was the final time. "You've got a nice little ass Charlotte. And I'd say it looks rather good in pink." I felt the heat rising in my cheeks as her hand was caressing my butt. The animal instincts of my hindbrain were screaming for me to collect my clothes and bolt for the door. But for whatever reason, I pushed those thoughts aside. I was fascinated as well as a little frightened and, truthfully, the strangeness of it all was kind of turning me on.
"Mmph," I let escape as I felt Karin's finger suddenly pressing deep into my pussy. What the hell! Where did that come from? She wiggled it around for a moment before she withdrew it. I shuddered a bit, still trying to wrap my mind around how I'd just been violated by my interviewer.
"Nice and tight," she complemented, "though we'll need to have you waxed before you start."
"Before I start," I thought, "did that mean I was hired?" I was about to ask when I saw Karin bring her finger around and pause, hovering just in front of my face.
"Clean it off," she ordered. I opened my mouth, knowing exactly what she meant, and slowly, deliberately, sucked my juices off of her long and slender finger.
"Very good," she praised, "Come back Monday at nine o'clock sharp for orientation. If you want the job that is."
"Oh, yes, ma'am," I said, "very much so. Thank you!" I'm not sure if she even heard all of it, because she was already out the door by the time I finished.