The Job Interview

Have you ever had a job interview that really made you overly nervous? A job that you weren't even sure was meant for you, maybe even seemed out of character for you? Well that is the position I was last week.

I had a run of really bad luck lately and as a result I was looking at losing not only my car, but also my house. So, I needed money coming in fast and in large quantity. Since I already had one job this one needed to have unusual hours, good pay and fairly light hours—no one can work 24/7—even if they wanted to.

It so happens that there was a job advertised in the paper that was almost perfect. The only problem was that it was working someplace I never would have dreamt of working: an erotic emporium. I went to interview for the job and that is when I got the surprise of my life—the interview process was definitely not what I expected to go through.

For a normal interview I'd have expected to bring my resume, talk with an interviewer or two, discuss my expectations of the job, salary requirements, benefits and such. This one was a tad different. Now I have no problem working for a woman—I've done it too many times to count—but I never expected that woman to, upon meeting me, slap a collar on my neck and command me kneel in front of her.

I also never expected that she would cut my clothes from my body and tell me that I got the job. Of course the job does involve demonstrating all of the various products and assisting her in making sure that they are used properly.

Being naturally submissive, at least part of the time, I had no problem submitting to my interviewer. Considering my interviewer was an Asian female, about 5' tall, long, silky, black hair in a ponytail that went to her ankles, had almond-shaped eyes of jade green color and a dominating attitude that brooked no hesitation or attitude I had no problem with her. If she chose to make me her bitch, I would yield my ass to her without question.

My interviewer's/dominatrix's questions were not, obviously, of the pay, hours, benefits type but rather of the more sexually explicit type. She asked me, "Do you lick pussy? Do you lick ass? How many times can you cum in an hour? How long, thick and hard are you now? Do you like to wear woman's clothes? If so, what piece or pieces? What sex toys do you like to have used on you? What ones do you like to use on your sexual partner or partners?"

Her questions were a rapid fire barrage designed to get the truth of my desires and it was a seemingly unending barrage that, unbeknownst to me, was being recorded to dvd as we spoke. What was I to do? She had, after all, already removed my clothes and there was no way I was getting out of there without severe embarrassment at the least.

Now I know I am kinky so my answers were, without a doubt, explicit, truthful and very arousing to anyone who actually just listened to them. Had I known I was being recorded I most certainly would have phrased my answers differently, although clamming up was definitely not an option.

After all, how does one tell the police that they ran naked, from an adult emporium-type store, and a beautiful woman, without looking like they are mad, crazy or on seriously heavy drugs?

She asked me questions for hours upon end it seemed. The whole time I was, naturally, very hard indeed. Between the questions she asked, her dominating attitude and her teasing of my cock from time to time there was no way I could have gone soft. I doubt she would have allowed it.

Honestly, it could have been minutes, seconds or hours, but my cock was so distracted I had no idea at all. It seemed that the motions of her hand on my cock put me deep into a trance. Now I am no stranger to the lifestyle of BDSM, so when I say it felt like I went extremely deep into subspace, you know I am not joking.

I can't properly describe it any other way, but when I finally was in her power I felt not only like I belonged there, but that I had been there all of my life. It was as if I knew nothing else in my life—like my mind had been wiped of all other thoughts.

I towered over this Asian beauty by a whole foot, but she brought me to my knees faster than a congressman can lie. Each word she spoke, no matter how softly, was a command to me and I obeyed fully and without hesitation.

Everyone has heard of glory holes where men stick there cocks through to get them sucked or people put there hands there to get a cock to suck. My mistress had plans for me involving them, but in this case I was to be doing nothing but having women use my cock.

This lovely temptress had me so under her spell I never noticed that the water she gave me during our first moments together tasted funny. So I never questioned why I suddenly had the desire to submit to her so fully and why my cock was instantaneously hard.

Actually, I didn't question anything at all—it was as if all my inhibitions—the few I actually have—had been removed completely.

Now, I know now that the cause was that she had dissolved a mixture of X and Viagra into my water.

I had my cock hard and unflagging relentlessly sucked and inserted in numerous pussies and asses. It was washed well between uses and I was used for many, many more hours then I can remember.

Of course, being used like this did present a problem, staying standing after repeatedly going weak in the knees. My mistress solved this binding me to the wall hand and foot. Thankfully the cuffs she used to bind me with were fur-lined because I was ridden very hard for a period of time that would have cause me major pain otherwise.

As the women on the other side of the wall repeatedly violated me I responded as any aroused man would. The problem was I that I had no control over my cock. It stayed up long after it had been practically rubbed raw by the large number of women who used it and they had no compunction about having used it in their asses, mouths, pussies and even between their breasts.

When I awoke, I am not even sure of the day let alone the hour, I was told my interviewer that I had indeed gotten the job. I was confused by this until she told me that when she had initially told me I got the job that was actually only to lure me to the second, more real, interview.

Of course, I eagerly accepted the position—or should I say positions—eagerly.