I had been out of work for a couple of months and was starting to feel a bit desperate. Finally, I was called back for a second interview for a position as an administrative assistant. It was definitely a step down the career ladder; however, I was a point at which I could not be choosy.
I had interviewed with the human resource manager, a nondescript young woman who seemed to have little interest in anything, and was frankly surprised when I was called for a second interview. However, this interview would be with the person for whom I would work. I was curious to see where this might lead.
I showed up a little early for my appoint, carefully dressed in black. My suit featured a short skirt and a form-fitting jacket under which I wore a black lace camisole. I wore a black lace bra, black silk panties, a black lace garter belt with black stockings, and black pumps with a 3 1/2" heels. Since I am only 5'3", the heels gave me a little more confidence, as did the sexy lingerie beneath my suit. My hair was styled as usual, a windblown look which suited my thick blonde hair to perfection. My makeup was applied subtly, carefully understated.
At the appointed time, I was ushered into an office suite that had a smaller outer office (for the A.A., I assumed) and a large plush inner office. The suite was located in one corner of the building, and gave the impression of being isolated and very private, with only a conference room across the hall sharing the area. I could see how this might be conducive to private business meetings.
Standing behind the large desk was my prospective boss. I was rather taken aback when I first laid eyes on him. He was young, no more than maybe 35, and very attractive, very polished. I knew he was the senior vice president of some department, and expected someone more mature to be in such a responsible position.
He invited me to sit, and the woman from human resources melted away, closing the door firmly behind her. The interview was brief, consisting of a few general questions, and ending with a job offer. I was surprised, but readily accepted, since the pay was excellent, and the working conditions seemed pleasant. I was scheduled to begin the following Monday morning.
The first week was uneventful, as I learned Mr. Jackson's routines and preferences. He was insistent that I call him by the formal title, although he called me by my first name, Cari. He was demanding, but not unreasonable, and by the beginning of the second week, I was feeling comfortable and settled in my new position. However, Tuesday, things shifted, suddenly, and irrevocably.
Mr. Jackson called me into his office about 4:45 Tuesday evening, telling me to go ahead and lock the outer door. He had done this before, had me close the outer door since the work day almost over and he didn't want to be interrupted as we went over things. I closed and locked the outer door, then entered his office. He prompted me to close the inner door also, and I assumed we were going to be discussing a confidential matter. I sat down in the chair on the opposite side of his desk, dayplanner and pen in hand.
"Set those down, Cari, we don't need them right now."
I complied, setting them on the edge of his desk, and clasping my hands in my lap, waiting. His eyes traveled over me slowly, and I became very aware of my appearance. My deep red suit had a short skirt that ended maybe 4 inches above my knees. The jacket was form-fitting, seeming to hug my curves in a provocative manner, although I tried not to think of that. Beneath the suit, I wore my black lace lingerie, complete to the stockings and the black heels. I crossed my ankles and waited, fidgeting a bit as he continued his perusal of my attire.
Gradually, I became aware of the fact that he was undressing me with his eyes. My face flushed, and felt warm, and I dropped my gaze, refusing to make eye-contact. I jumped when he finally spoke, because I had not noticed him move and now he was mere inches away.
"Cari, you have a very nice set of tits."
I was shocked! I looked up, unsure how to react. He was watching me very carefully, an arrogant smile on his young face. My gaze locked with his, and I seemed to be unable to move or react or do anything as his hand moved forward and traced the neckline of my jacket, slipping his fingers in to brush the inner curves of my breasts.
"You are a very sexy woman, Cari, and I think you know about taking care of a man, don't you?" I was still unable to speak. He laughed softly and unbuttoned the first two buttons of my jacket, slipping a hand in to grasp my full breast and squeeze it. Then he ran his thumb over the erect nipple that protruded thru the lace of my bra. "In fact, I think that you know just how to pleasure a man, and I think you know what your job is."
I couldn't seem to tear my gaze away from him as we sat there, face to face, him leaning down, with his hand inside my jacket, playing with my breast, me sitting with my hands clasped tightly in my lap, my ankles still crossed.
With a smirk, he slipped his hand around to entangle it in my hair, then giving a tug, pulled me from my chair so that I was standing between his legs as he sat on the edge of his desk. My hands were still clasped in front of me, so he reached down with his free hand and tugged them apart. My arms dropped to my side. He reached down and finished unbuttoning my jacket, pushing it opening. He made a small, appreciative noise, and reached out to grasps both of my breasts in his large hands, squeezing, hefting the weight of them in his palms, brushing his thumbs over my painfully erect nipples.
A voice of reason broke through the sensual fog in my mind, and I took a step back, reaching up to grab his wrists to pull his hands from my body.
"Stop!" His voice was steely, cold in its authority. I froze in place, staring into his eyes. "Don't you know better than to meet the gaze of your betters, Cari?" he went on, in a softer voice.
A battle ensued in my mind. A conflict between the person I had shown to the world all these years, and the inner person, the real me. The public persona was professional demeanor, social graces and a take-charge attitude. But the inner person, the real me... knew her place in the world, knew her true purpose in life. That place, was on her knees at the feet of her Master, or any man who chose to take control of her. Her purpose was to pleasure and service the needs of that man. The real me knew that a woman was made only for the use of men, as an object they used to relieve their tensions and stress, an object they used for their pleasure and entertainment. I was a woman who was made to be used. My body was designed for the pleasure of men. My soul was the soul of a slut, a whore who would do the bidding of any man. Because servicing a man was the primary purpose of my existence. Pleasuring a man was the ultimate accomplishment for a slut like me. And suddenly, the public persona was silent, because she could knew she could not defeat the inner slut.
I became very still and dropped my gaze, because I knew that I was a lesser being than this man. I knew that I was subservient, and dependent on his good graces.
I could feel him watching me. "Good, you know not to challenge me," he said in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. "Let me tell you a bit about our situation here, Cari. Mine, and yours, and how they are going to work out together." I said nothing, although I was totally baffled.
"You have been hired as my administrative assistant at a very good wage, correct?" I nodded.
"This works for you, because you have been unemployed and are on the brink of financial ruin, correct?" I was more confused than ever that he should know of my personal situation. "I had you investigated before I interviewed you. I watched the video of your interview, and saw that you were what I needed. I needed an administrative assistant, Cari, to help with the details of this job. However, I needed a special kind of A.A. One who was compliant, and agreeable, and attractive. One who knew how to follow instructions, and who could help me entertain clients and bring more business to the company.
"I knew from my investigation that you were in financial straits, which means you need this job and will do anything to keep it. But more importantly, I knew you were seeing no one and that your last several relationships were abusive, although you hid this from friends and coworkers. I know a great deal about you, Cari."
