The Job Fair

Affluent men. Older men. Men who are successful and powerful. Men who have the means to buy just about anything that they have ever wanted. In this regard, our experience has also indicated that men with this type of profile mostly want to be treated just like children. Especially true, Karen, in the presence of a strong willed woman. They want to ask for lots of things from a female nurse and are prepared to go to great lengths to get it!

"That sounds like most men," Karen offered with a quizzical smile, "don't you think?"

Both women laughed at the barb directed at males in general.

Carla Breaker took this unplanned pause to move back behind her desk. Once in her seat, she took great pains to carry out a casual straightening of paper and files on the glass top of her huge work area. When she was pleased with her efforts at re-organization, she looked up at Karen. Both women stared at each other for about 20 seconds, an eternity during an interview. Karen was the first to break the focus when she briefly glanced down at her hands that were clasped tightly in her lap.

Carla was inscrutable with her obvious victory over Karen and held back any hint of satisfaction.

"Karen," she announced suddenly, leaning forward, re-establishing eye contact with her, "I believe you would make a perfect candidate for one of the jobs that we are offering. But I want to be sure. I need to know that you wouldn't be a mistake. My mistake. Can you understand that, Karen?"

"Yes. I believe so." she answered hesitantly, fully expecting either a new type of interview question that would endorse her worthiness for the offered position, or one that would quash her quest for any type of valid employment with B.C.I.

Carla then stood abruptly and came out from behind the desk. She moved with an declared conviction and came to stand directly in front of Karen. She placed her legs slightly apart and stood as tall as she could, then folded her arms across her chest. Softly, without any hint of impropriety, but with a commanding delivery, she spoke directly to Karen, "Remove your clothes, Karen."

There was a pause as Karen registered with the words she had just heard. "Take off my. . .what did you say. . .?" Karen responded, only now beginning to grasp the full enormity of Carla's statement of request.

"Strip! Are you hard of hearing Karen? I want you to be naked in front of me. Now!" Carla's tone changed, exposing her dictatorial side.

"But. . .but that's ridiculous, I can't, well, I can't take off all my clothes in front of you! No, that's not right. No. Definitely not. No!" Karen uttered with finality rising in her voice.

"Karen," Carla stated casually, "You are within a hairs-breadth of landing the job of your dreams. The hourly pay is $200. So don't fool yourself and don't discount this golden opportunity. If you want to excel in an area of human relations that you are indubitably suited for, then do as you are told and take off your clothes!"

Karen took pause to quickly calculate $200 per hour. Then looking around Carla's office, from window to wall, and back to the two ominous wooden doors that she had passed through only minutes before, she stood up to Carla with adamant intent. Her first clear thought was to bolt from the room. Leave and never come back. What kind of a request during a job interview was an order from the interviewer for the applicant to remove their clothes!

But she didn't move towards the door. She just stood there. Karen was one month behind in her mortgage. Her credit cards had already been cancelled. She owed money on her taxes. And if that weren't enough, her mother was in the hospital and neither mother nor daughter had a hospital plan or even a down payment for medical services. The doctors had advised Karen only last week that the operation required by her mother would cost at least $20,000!

Carla Breaker stood firm, toe-to-toe with Karen. Her arms remained tightly folded across her ample chest. "Well Karen?" she said, impatient for Karen to comply.

Like a Roman candle at its death, Karen's whole body slagged in resignation. Slowly, with painstaking care, she began with her jacket, neatly folding it and laying on the back of the chair by her side. Next she bashfully unbuttoned her blouse, the best blouse that she owned. The one she only wore on promising dates. Her skirt quickly followed and in each instance she took care to fold her removed effects neatly before placing them on the back of the chair. This was how Karen dealt with the shame that she was feeling. Following this, and with her face a beet red, she eased one leg, then the other, from her panty hose.

She stood hesitant in front of Carla for a moment, pausing with her face cast down staring at the carpet by her feet. Then, resigning once again to her fate, she unhooked the clips that secured her half-cup bras. Pert breasts of firm skin jiggled free. Now truly embarrassed, she hooked her thumbs under the elastic band of her white silk panties and forced them down to her ankles. The removal of her panties was her final act of mortification.

She felt the cool air immediately as it invaded her trimmed and exposed vaginal area. The chill made her that much more aware of her unprotected nakedness.

Wanting to get through this bizarre aspect of her interview, Karen submitted totally to the moment by walking out of her panties in the chaste but sensual fashion women are prone to do.

"Put your arms down by your sides, Karen." Carla said in a warm and sisterly tone. "I'm a nurse for goodness sakes. What parts of the male and female body do you think are new to me?"

"I'm embarrassed, that's all. I'm a little frightened too. I don't like this," she whispered with a sheepish and beaten attitude.

"Look at me Karen. Put your arms by your side and just relax. There's nothing to be afraid of, whatsoever."

Karen looked up slowly, but couldn't bring herself to cast her eyes on Carla. She just kept looking around, viewing her surroundings while desperately avoiding Carla's eyes.

"This was a test Karen. Nothing more, and nothing less. It was my test to confirm for me, and for you as well, that humility wouldn't get in the way of the work you would be doing for us."

Karen paused in her nervous stance and brought her roving eyes to rest finally, on Carla's face. "Does this mean that you just hired me?" she said with anxious anticipation in her voice, hopeful at least, that her ordeal was over..

"Yes. I believe that I just did. How does that make you feel, Karen?"

"Oh my. Oh my, my, my. . . .oh yes, that makes me feel very good. Oh yes, thank you Carla. Thank you very much."

Carla nodded, accepting Karen's appreciation, then wheeled around and returned to her seat behind her desk. Karen remained standing where she was, not quite sure what to do next?

"Karen," Carla began with a business like voice, "We have to talk about how best to utilize your talents. You and I must discuss what theme you would best be suited for. Ah yes, but first things first. I am sure that you want to know just what kind of work you will be involved in, wouldn't you. And exactly what functions you will be expected to carry out."

"Yes I would, Carla," Karen began, and before she could ask if the reason for her nakedness was done with. . .

"Our business here is to help men to understand their sexual desires. As you know, sexual matters in human beings is a very complex and deep subject. But at British Care Incorporated, we tend to concentrate on only one small aspect of that panorama. So, it's manageable. Do you know what I mean, Karen?"

"Yes, I understand. It's like the divisional partitions used by hospitals, or the different types of medical disciplines that doctors require in a modern health care facility." Karen offered expertly, showing that she knew of such things by experience.

"Precisely. But in our care facility, it is only male applicants who are directed to my division in British Care Inc. These are men who want their worlds turned upside down. Oh, that upside down state may only last for a few hours Karen, but their inverted state, so to speak, is managed very well."

Karen was dumbfounded and quirked her head to one side. "You turn men upside down? Because they want that?" Karen stated incredulously.

"No, no, Karen. By upside down I mean that these men want us to turn things around." Then thinking about what she just said and how that could also be misconstrued by Karen, "Oh my, this is harder to explain than I thought." Carla admitted out loud, more to herself than Karen.

"In their businesses or at home or where ever, these men are totally in charge of themselves, everything around them and everyone who is in their sphere. They're at the top. The very top. They're in charge. Everyone answers to them. They're the boss and they make up all the rules of the game.

You'd think that they'd be satisfied with this situation. But they're not. Lucky for BCI because they come to us requesting that their lives be diametrically altered. Changed. Unequivocally. One hundred percent."

Karen tried to comprehend all of what Carla was explaining to her. "Interesting. Strange to say the least. But what is it that you want me to do? Exactly how do I fit in here?"

"Well, first you must understand why these successful men want their worlds altered in the first place? Why for instance would a vice president of a big company want to come here so that a woman can order him around like a recalcitrant little boy? And why do men such as these pay exorbitant fees for a two hour encounter with a bitch who will enforce physical correction upon them because of her indictment of his misbehaviour?

Karen fidgeted about where she stood, moving her feet while clenching and unclenching her hands. "I don't know, Carla. I've never heard of such things."

"My sweet dear Karen. Are you not aware of the emerging trend in our society that advocates dominant women who entrap and rule submissive men?"

"No!" Karen answered petulantly.

"Well, that's a pity but there isn't enough time here today to bring you up to date on that matter. Suffice to say that men will pay highly for that pleasure. Lots of men crave secretly to be in the company of a woman who can demand their obedience. You see Karen, they're much like children. These men desire to ask for such treatment. In fact, most of them will actually beg for it. And like a mother, a dominant woman will dangle a treat in front of them while getting these men to carry out a whole range of humiliating acts."

"Women have this power over men?" Karen questioned.

"Yes. Absolutely." Carla answered forthrightly.

I wish I had known that a few years ago!"

Carla smiled, then reached across her desk and picked up her pen from its elegant holder. "Women have always had that power over men, Karen. They just didn't recognize it, and if they did, they chose not to exercise it. Sad, don't you think?"

"I think that it's a sad situation for both men and women. If we have something that they want, we should be able to give it to them. . .at a price of course," she concluded wistfully.

Both women laughed at Karen's statement of observation and Carla beamed inwardly that she had made the right choice of hiring this woman who still stood naked before her.

"But I can't understand why men would want that? It doesn't make sense?"

Carla stopped writing and looked up at Karen. Carla was no longer the amiable peer she had been during the interview. Now she was the boss herself.

"You're still naked aren't you? We're on the 20th floor of a downtown office building in the middle of the afternoon, and you're standing naked in my office. Everything around us is proceeding along as if nothing were out of place. You're naked Karen because that's the price you knew you had to pay to get this job. You're naked because I softly and benignly asked you to strip your clothes off. You wanted what I had to offer. And had I continued to dangle that offer of a job, you would have eventually knelt on your knees in front of me, right here," she said pointing to the carpet by the side of her desk, "in unadulterated supplication!"

Both women looked at each other, Carla with a stern countenance and Karen wearing a face of shock. Then Carla eased her compressed lips into a broad and congenial smile,

"That's why men come to us in droves. That's why men will hand over large sums of cash to our representatives. They want to experience the power of our femininity as it is crushed temporarily into their lives. These men only look for the rush and excitement found at the extreme deep end of the human sexual experience pool. They will do almost anything to get what it is they need, want. Just like you, Karen!

With that said, she returned her attention to the business at hand on her desk and busied herself with the contents contained in a random opened file. She ignored Karen's naked presence.

After an interminable silence, Karen requested, "May I get dressed now?".

Carla took a few moments to look up, then offered rhetorically, "Yes, why not?"

When Karen had finished putting her clothes back on, Carla indicated that she had a private washroom and that Karen was more than welcome to use it, if she so desired. Karen accepted and when she returned to the office, she came to stand in front of Carla's desk. It just seemed the right thing to do and Karen stood there for a few moments in silence before Carla spoke.

"I will be consulting with one of our clients this evening." she began, " I would like you to join us. Here is a list of instructions that I want you to follow before coming back. We will be meeting our customer in the foyer out front at 9 p.m. sharp, then we'll all proceed to room 2000."

Karen accepted the list from Carla's outstretched hand, read it quickly, then folded it into her purse.

"Carla. Thank you for the job." she said graciously, "I may not know much about the subtle nuances and special themes of dominance and submission that you spoke of, but I do learn quickly. I will make you proud, I promise."

"I know you will, Karen. You have all of the ingredients of a most enterprising woman. I look forward to working with you this evening. I really do!" Then like business people everywhere, Carla stood, and the two women came together and shook hands.

PART II

At precisely 5 minutes before nine that evening, Karen pushed the elevator button for the 20th floor. She carried an over-the-shoulder valise that contained some of the items on Ms Breaker's list along with a wardrobe bag holding the rest. Under her clothes her new garments itched, causing her to squirm in protest.

Carla looked irritated and impatient. She was posed by the large desk, the very one that had been occupied by the young receptionist earlier that day. This evening, she was wrapped tight in a severe business suit. Her stiletto heels were at the ends of calf-high boots and her face was devoid of any make up whatsoever. Karen thought she looked more like her fourth grade school teacher than someone who managed a large business. Certainly different looking than earlier that day.

"Our client will be here shortly." Carla said in a monotone voice. "All you have to do is follow my lead. Understand?"

"Yes. Yes, I understand."

Behind the closed elevator doors the machinery that propelled the lift, hummed a steady noise. Above the door, both women watched the array of floor numbers light up, one following the other, as the client ascended ever closer to the 20th level.

Then the door opened. . .

"You're late!" Carla barked out like a drill sergeant.

The man, probably in his middle 50s, dressed elegantly in pinstriped business attire and with a full head of silver grey well managed hair, stumbled like a child over his words of apology.

"Yes, Ma'am. I an truly sorry. It was the traffic. . .then I couldn't find a place to park. I apologize, Ma'am. I tried to be on time, please, please forgive me," he pleaded, holding hands in front of his crotch as if protecting them from harm.

Carla didn't respond, except to snap her fingers twice and point her outstretched long-nailed finger down towards the floor at her feet.

The man paused but a second, then crumpled to his knees and crawled like a dog to the imaginary 'X' on the floor as indicated by Carla's arrow-like gesture. When he arrived, he pushed his lips securely against the toe of her left shoe.

"We had a business meeting set for 9 o'clock sharp. Did we not?"

"Yes Ma'am. That's correct," he mumbled from his subservient position.

"But you're late, aren't you?" Carla ingrained with condemnation crackling in her voice.

"Yes, but please M'am, please, I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Please." he squeaked back in supplication.

"I was here on time," Carla snarled, "wasn't I? But you are late, aren't you?

"But, but. . ." was all the man could offer in his defence.

"I'm not pleased with your behaviour. Not at all," she stated with some resignation, "Perhaps we should cancel this evenings meeting?"

Carla flung her bait at him, dangling it like an open barbed Freudian hook. Her intent was to flirt it brazenly in his face!

"Oh God no," he implored. "No. Please Mistress, no! No, anything but that. I need this meeting with. Please. Please forgive me." the man whined at her feet while looking up at her with large round eyes. Carla looked anywhere but at the client and appeared to be disinterested in his petitions.

"Be quiet," she finally growled. The client remained humbled on the floor in front of her and bent quickly back to his duty of licking and kissing her high heeled boots.

"Very well. But you shall be disciplined. And humiliated. You need that too, don't you?

"Yes Mistress. I've been very disobedient since our last session. I've been a bad boy. I need to be disciplined."

Carla allowed a veiled smile to spread slowly out across her otherwise serious countenance.

"I have an apprentice with me this evening," she started, "and she will mete out your punishment. But remember," Carla purred as she prepared to identify for the client all of the detrimental implications of using an untrained apprentice, "she's not as skilled as I and she certainly doesn't know your limitations."

"Yes Mistress. Thank you Mistress."

"This means that your discipline will undoubtedly sting. I have not shared your 'safe' word with her either," she said, laughing at the import of her statement. "I shall be amused by your antics to deal with such a situation as this. But I have every confidence that you'll take what is due. Isn't that right?"

//

While the client continued his performance at Carla's feet, Karen experienced a sharp angst of regret. She tried very hard to hide these feelings. She feared that her second thoughts about her new position might be revealed by subtle changes on her face. A frown, a wrinkled brow, or even a down-turned mouth might tip the scales. She knew that Carla was sharp and could pick out on that sort of thing easily. Yet if that were to happen, especially now with the appointment already in progress, Carla's response may not be beneficial to Karen first task at her newly acquired job. She didn't need that! She sensed that Carla could be vicious. This was no time to be looking to prove her assumptions, one way or another.

So to safeguard her position, Karen directed her thoughts inward as best she could. As the submissive client held Carla's attention, Karen afforded herself a tiny widow of opportunity to reflect. She needed to work her way through the personal issues that had suddenly emerged. The trick was to accomplish this surreptitiously while maintaining her part in the unusual scene.

Once mentally attuned to her own inner world, Karen questioned why she had so quickly accepted this job in the first place? She remembered her first thoughts. The job offer had been too good to be true. She knew that. Surely she would have found something else, eventually if only she had been patient.