Ashley had been working at her first real "grownup job" for 2 months. She had been hired straight out of college as the "Admin Assistant/receptionist/general dogsbody "for a small IT security firm. The interview process had been fairly lengthy-in the current job market, any firm hiring could afford to be picky. She had been convinced that she had no chance, since she had no related experience, but was called back for a second interview, and informed that she would be filmed for the interview, and would be expected to wear the uniform provided.
So, she showed up, changed into the outfit provided, nothing too remarkable, save the extreme tightness of everything, and the shoes were sexy but WAY too high-heeled to wear to work. She was asked to read certain phrases, walk around the room, then bend over the desk, and while standing, to type, awkwardly, in this position. It was odd, it felt more like a tryout for a film part than a test of her admin skills...
She left the interview having no idea how she had fared, and mentally prepared to hit the pavement as soon as she got home to see what else would turn up...
But when she got home, there was a job offer waiting for her in her inbox. She would start the following Monday...
At 22, she was newly-engaged, the youngest woman in the office, and certainly the most attractive. Sparkling, mischievous hazel eyes, full sensuous lips, lustrous auburn hair, and the body of a porn star-she was an undeniable asset to the company as she was the first person that any walkin visitors encountered. She dressed fairly conservatively, professionally, because she wanted to be taken seriously for her abilities, and she really didn't need to guild the lily. Plus, it wouldn't be productive to make the older women in the office hate her more than they already did...
"Ashley, I need to see you in my office, right after you lock up"
"Yes sir, Mr. Scott."
A few minutes after 5, she had shut down the computer, and locked the front entrance as directed. She walked down the hall and thru the antechamber where Mr. Scott's personal assistant, a total bitch named Julia, had worked. Ashley learned that Julia had been terminated over the past weekend. She found herself in Mr. Scott's spacious office. He sat behind an enormous desk, partially hidden from view by the three large monitors ranged on the gleaming desktop.
He rolled himself backward, away from his desk and imperiously beckoned her come around to his side of the desk. On the desk she noticed her copy of the employee manual, her signature across the cover page, and incongruously, a roll of duct tape. "I need you to look at something and then tell me what you think I should do, Ashley." Pointing to the center monitor, he motioned her into the space that he had just vacated. She bent forward slightly, uncomfortably aware that his face was very close to her ass, and peered at the screen.
To her horror and dismay, she saw her personal gmail inbox, Ashley@gmail.com.
"Open that one from someone named Josh , dated just today, if you please," he said silkily.
With trembling hands, she found the mouse and opened the mail. Immediately, as though pressurized, two large thumbnail jpgs of her unfolded on the screen . The pictures had been taken today in the car immediately after lunch.
"Download and open those please, Ms. Bruce."
She did as directed. In the first photograph she was displayed reclining in the passenger seat of her fiance's Scion XB. Her blouse was unbuttoned to below her bra, her jacket was pushed open, and the creamy tops of her breasts were nicely displayed above the sheer lacey bra. Her skirt had been hiked up just high enough to reveal the tops of her thigh highs. The coup de grace was her hands handcuffed behind her head...
The second photograph was taken just five minutes later. It was merely a close up her face. Semen was dripping from her lips, down her chin...
