The Interview

The blood was pounding in my ears as I gently closed the car door. It all seemed so unreal, so calm. The heat of the midday sun had brought the meadow drowsily to life; bees were droning, butterflies were fluttering about, and somewhere in the distance I could hear the hum of farm machinery. I groped in the pocket of my jeans for the folded piece of paper. It was starting to show some wear, testimony to the nervous habit that I had developed since downloading and printing its contents. Just one more look, I told myself as I carefully smoothed its crumpled creases on the hood of my car. Just one more look, just to make sure I do this right.

The font was bold and capitalized, its message direct:

THIS MEETING SHOULD BE REGARDED AS AN INTERVIEW. IT IS INTENDED TO ASSESS YOUR SUITABILITY AS MY SEXUAL SERVANT. FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS BELOW CAREFULLY AND WITHOUT DEVIATION. IF I FIND THAT YOU ARE CAPABLE OF OBEYING INSTRUCTIONS THEN I WILL PROCEED WITH MY EXAMINATION..IF NOT THEN YOU WILL BE DISMISSED AND WILL NOT WASTE MY TIME ANY FURTHER.

YOU WILL PRESENT YOURSELF AT NOON ON THE 14TH OF THIS MONTH AT THE ADDRESS PRINTED BELOW.

PARK YOUR VEHICLE JUST INSIDE THE GATE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE MEADOW.

REMOVE YOUR CLOTHING AND LEAVE IT AT YOUR CAR.

PROCEED ON FOOT ALONG THE DRIVE UNTIL YOU COME TO THE FIRST FARM TRACK, TURN RIGHT AND CONTINUE OVER THE HILL UNTIL YOU COME TO THE DAIRY.

ENTER THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR AND WAIT FOR ME IN THE FIRST ROOM ON THE LEFT. YOU WILL FIND A BLINDFOLD THERE; TIE IT SECURELY OVER YOUR EYES.

I EXPECT TO FIND YOU KNEELING, BLINDFOLDED, AND WITH YOUR HANDS CLASPED BEHIND YOUR HEAD.

YOU WILL NOT SPEAK AND YOU WILL SUBMIT WITHOUT HESITATION.

I left my clothes folded on the hood of my car. The soft breeze made my skin prickle as I nervously climbed the drive and turned down the narrow farm track. Far off in the distance I could see the drive veer gently toward a large stand of ancient trees. Just barely visible behind the foliage was the corner of what appeared to be an imposing manor house. I continued over the hill and saw below me a sturdy looking building on the left side of the track made of whitewashed stone and attached to a sizable cattle shed. Although there was no evidence of cattle, both structures looked well maintained. My pulse was hammering now, an arrhythmic counter tempo to the drowsy hum of my surroundings. I was really going to do this. After those countless hours spent haunting the strange netherworld of cyberspace, hours spent exploring the half-formed fantasies that kept me awake at night, the reality was more bizarre than I had ever expected. My feverish dreams were of dark, subterranean places... not sunlit meadows. The thought made me smile and the smile gave me courage, so I went down.

The place was old and quiet, it obviously hadn't been used as a dairy for many years. It had a waiting feel that made me shiver with suspense. The heavy plank door was open and my bare feet whispered on the worn flagstones as I stepped through. Ahead of me stretched a hall, flanked on either side by the wooden slats of deserted milking stalls. To my immediate left was a low, open doorway framed in timber. The room beyond had a sunken stone floor which made an abrupt step down from the hall. There was a small casement window in the stone wall opposite the door and to the right the wall was composed of a dozen rough wooden fencing boards spaced with sizable gaps between them which provided glimpses into the adjacent stall. The only furniture was a wooden bench in the center of the room and on it lay a strip of raw black silk. I knelt down in front of the bench and tied the blindfold over my eyes as tightly as possible. A sliver of the floor remained visible no matter how I tugged and pulled at the cloth. After fighting with it for several minutes, I finally gave up; clasped my hands behind my head, closed my eyes, and waited.

Except for the rasp of my breath and the thud of my heart, the dairy was quiet. Each passing moment increased the suspense until I could no longer keep from shivering. The shivers turned to shakes and the shakes to great, racking shudders as the adrenaline pumped through me. I tried to control my breathing... struggled to show some composure as I knelt there on the hard stone. I was so caught up with my inner conflict that I missed the footsteps until they were quite close. The soft slap of cloth-soled sandals approached from the open door and circled me slowly. I desperately willed the surge of adrenaline to subside. The footsteps came to a stop in front of me and I heard a low laugh. I couldn't resist the temptation to open my eyes and peek down at the floor through the slivers of light at the bottom of the blindfold. The toes of two small, well-manicured feet were just visible.

"Very good. You are capable of following instructions." Her low, clear voice startled me. "Now let's see if you are suitable material. Stand up!" It took a moment to struggle up from the floor. She was moving again, circling. A soft hand touched my chest and spiraled languidly around my body. I was suddenly aware that I was throbbingly erect. Her nails scratched lightly over me as she continued her tactile exploration of my body. "Turn around!" As I obeyed I was shocked to realize that there was another person in the room moving quietly behind me.

"Walk forward!"

I took a few tentative steps to my front, the wooden partition between this room and the neighboring milking stall was somewhere ahead of me.

"Stop! Patrick, put his chin up on that wooden cleat." I felt a large hand close over my lower jaw and pull up as a sharp, upward slap on my butt made me jump. "Up on your toes!"

I was on my tiptoes, straining to balance as my chin was placed on a ledge protruding from the wooden slats.

"Place your hands on the wall." It was a relief to unclasp them and spread them out. " Keep your chin on that cleat until I tell you otherwise."

She was very close behind me now, the tips of her breasts brushed across my back leaving a trail of heat despite the fabric between us. Both hands reached around to run up and down my chest and abdomen. She pushed her hips forward, pressing her mound into my buttocks until my erection was rasping against the rough wood.

"Stay there!" I froze as she stepped back.

There was a light smack on my ass, followed by a series of heavier ones. As the spanking rocked me forward, my swollen flesh rubbed against the wall. The feeling was an agonizing combination of stimulation and discomfort. Soon my knotted calves were burning with the strain of standing on my toes while absorbing the shock of the punishment. I began to swing my hips back toward her in an attempt to anticipate each blow and put a little space between myself and the wall. She laughed, amused at my lewd, involuntary dance. The surge of humiliation as I realized not only what she was laughing at but also that the spectacle was being witnessed by some strange man only made me harder. I tried to stop moving my hips and was successful for several strokes until the discomfort was so great that my embarrassment didn't seem to matter any more. When she finally stopped my ass was on fire and my legs were shaking with the strain of my position. She ran her soft hands around my quivering hips and stroked my hard, slippery cock. It was leaking copiously, over-stimulated by the battering it had received. She was squeezing me gently as she pressed herself rhythmically against my buttocks again, encouraging me to fuck her hands. Even though my leg muscles shrieked in protest I couldn't resist that warm flesh. My body pumped at her automatically, all rational thought gone. Soon she let go of me, laughing as I desperately thrust at empty space.

I felt her body move away.

"Down,...and turn around. Patrick, place him against the wall, please, and secure him"

It was such a relief to be off my toes and have my chin off of the cleat that I momentarily forgot my disappointment. I staggered around to face the center of the room. Strong hands forcibly shoved me back against the wall; heavier footsteps retreated out of the room and into the hall. The door of the milking stall at my back creaked open and I heard clicking noises as something was rummaged about.

"Arms up! Hold them straight out to the sides, like this." She was back again, lifting my arms out to my sides. The tips of her now-naked breasts whispered over my chest. I fought the urge to groan out loud with frustration. Something was being passed through the gaps between the slats which separated the two rooms. Abruptly, one of my wrists was cinched tight by something strong and springy; moments later the second wrist was, too. In less than two minutes I was bound securely at the wrists and ankles to the wooden partition wall.

There was a tug at the blindfold and I was blinking away the sudden light.

She stepped back...let me look at her for a moment.

"Eyes down!"

I stared at the floor, trying to burn the image of what I had seen into my memory: A dark haired woman slightly taller than I, dark eyes, no visible make-up on an attractive, confident face, well-kept body with generous curves, athletic legs of average proportion. Her age was difficult to guess. She could have been younger than I but the composure in her eyes bespoke experience.

Suddenly I felt embarrassed. Behind the blindfold there had been a comforting detachment...a sense of unreality which gave the whole encounter a dreamlike quality. Feeling awkward and foolish in front of this beautiful woman, I stared down at my erection, willing it to go away.

She was amused by my obvious discomfort. She stepped close again and ran her hands over my body. Her breasts pressed hard against me and I forgot my embarrassment as I felt myself rubbing her softest place. Although she kept a small triangle of hair above her sex, she was bare and smooth below. My hips began to move again, drawn irresistibly to her heat. She teased, allowing me to slide along her wet folds and then moving lightly away before beginning again. This continued until I found myself on the verge of orgasm.

She stopped and stepped away.

"Eyes up! I want you to watch this carefully...Patrick! Come Here!"

A tall figure entered and began to calmly disrobe. He had dark, medium length hair and blue eyes which stood out in contrast to his angular, deeply tanned face. His lean, muscular body was dark-skinned without an extra ounce of fat on it. The large, thick cock dangling between his legs looked to be the same size soft as my straining erection.

"Patrick is my servant. He attends my needs and assists me with my playthings. As my toy, you will obey him in all things as you would me."

She turned and bent over, taking him in her mouth as she brushed maddeningly against me with her buttocks.

He stood impassively, expressionless as she worked on his growing erection. Finally she stepped away, drawing Patrick with her by the hand to the bench in the center of the room. She lay down on it and spread her legs to either side as he straddled the bench. Crouching down, he gathered her legs in his arms and placed her calves gently on his shoulders. She took him in her hands, softly rubbing the the massive head of his cock against her mound as she turned her head and looked into my eyes.

"Watch."

As she spoke Patrick slid forward, slowly burying himself inside her. Her eyes were wide, still focussed on mine and her mouth made a silent O. Her wet lips clung to him as he slowly withdrew and then plunged inside again. She began to moan softly. He was picking up speed, thrusting into her with a corkscrewing motion as she bucked her hips to meet him. I stared, transfixed at the erotic spectacle. I was vaguely aware of a burning pain in the ligaments of my arms and shoulders as I fought against the restraints that bound me to the wood. I had little chance of freeing myself and even less of an idea what I would have done had I been successful.

The wooden bench was scraping rhythmically against the floor. Her hands floated across his hips and buttocks, smoothly regulating the tempo of her pleasure as he worked tirelessly. Her eyes, never leaving mine, grew wider still and she convulsed as she reached her peak. She shivered and stretched like a cat beneath Patrick, who was still pumping away mechanically.

"Patrick, stop."

He stopped immediately and withdrew, rock hard and glistening with her juices. If he was chagrined by her disregard for his pleasure he gave no sign. Instead, he stood to the side and offered her his hand as she slowly got to her feet.

"Let him down, please. I want him on his knees."

She looked directly at me.

"Eyes down! Your lesson is over."

I dropped my eyes to the floor again. Patrick was rustling about in the stall behind me.

I could smell the musk of her as she approached. Her hands were teasing over my body again, making me shake uncontrollably with the power of my pent up emotions.

"You take instructions well and you appear eager to serve. Your body is lean and fit, you will keep it that way. A little lacking, perhaps, in the cock department", I shuddered as her nails scraped gently across my straining flesh, "but I have Patrick for that. You will amuse me in other ways."

Suddenly my left arm was free and then my right.

"You will not come unless I allow it. You will not have sex unless I allow it."

My legs were free. I knelt.

Her fingers were running almost tenderly through my hair. She tilted my head back and guided my mouth to her sex. Automatically, I began to lick her swollen lips. Her hands gently steered me to her most sensitive spot.

"You will learn to please me with your lips, tongue, and fingers until it becomes second nature. I will use you the way a woman might use a vibrator. Your only purpose will be to give me pleasure. I am your goddess and this is my altar." She ground herself against my face for emphasis.

"You will leave here and go home. I will you instructions regarding how and when you are allowed to touch yourself via email...until then you WILL NOT touch yourself for any reason. You will never speak in my presence, if you do I shall dismiss you instantly; your silence is the token of submission that I demand and I prize it highly. There will be times when you find it impossible not to make some sort of noise and that will be acceptable as long as you do not speak. You will use email to ask any questions that you have. You will learn to express yourself to me with actions, not words, that will amuse me."

She stepped away.

"Stand up, turn around, and bend over."

I complied, uncertain of what she intended. Suddenly there was the solvent smell of a permanent marker and then she was writing something on my backside.

"This is the email address at which you will contact me ", She scribbled something on my left buttock."...and this is the web mail account and password that I have set up for you to contact me with...you will use it for nothing else except our correspondence." She wrote something on the right. "This interview is concluded, go home."

With that she turned on her heel and left.