It's Just Business

"Well, Steve, let's just go ahead and chat for a little bit first," began Deb, "Do you have a résumé for us?"

"Uh, I'm afraid not, actually," he admitted. "Fact is, I really don't have much experience in anything except for working in the fast food industry for a few months six years ago. I know how underqualified I am, but I just have to keep trying and looking and hope someone gives me a shot."

"Oh, well, you're not necessarily underqualified right off the bat, Steve," chimed Traci in. "Don't sell yourself short."

"That's right," added Debbie. "Like the ad said, there's no experience required. Do you have a high school diploma?"

"Yes," he said.

"Well, there you go," said Debbie. "You're already more qualified than you thought. Is that your highest level of education?"

"Erm...sort of," he hesitated. "I completed several college courses, but in the end I...just couldn't afford to finish. My grades were pretty average at best. I didn't qualify for student loans or financial aid or anything. So, I don't have any college degrees."

"Well, if you did your best, that's still all anyone can ask," said Traci with a smile, trying to be nothing less than super-sweet to him, really really hoping he'd like her.

Steve smiled back, feeling more comfortable. So far, they were making this pretty easy on him.

"Also correct," agreed Deb. "So then, where did you work six years ago?"

"Wendy's."

"Did you enjoy your time there? Was it a productive experience for you?" Traci asked him.

"Oh, well, I guess so," he said. "The supervisor and the rest of the staff were pretty nice and good to work with. And some of the customers were more polite than others, but the customer's of course always right in the service industry," he noted, secretly a tidbit resentful of this rule, but careful to convey only sincerity in his tone.

They smiled and nodded. "Very good," commented Debbie. "You see, Steve, that tells me that you did take away the number one customer service rule from your brief tenure at Wendy's. So you really are a bit more eligible for this position than you may be thinking. So let me tell you a little about the job. What we're looking for is something of a liaison for our clients. As you saw when you came in, this is a health club-slash-gym, and we are managing things ourselves, but a good deal of our time is taken up in administrative tasks, and so we don't have much left to help our members. Basically, what we need is a gentleman with a good, positive outlook and a friendly manner who can associate with our members, show them around, demonstrate exercise equipment, lead them in group workouts, that kind of thing."

Steve nodded attentively as she went on. Deb decided for now to insouciantly sidestep the fact that their clients were currently 99.9% women, reasoning with herself there'd be plenty of time to ease into that later. "Now, we're aware of course that you're rather unexperienced, and so we'd afford a fair deal of time to properly train you. In the meantime, we would provide you with some of the administrative duties I was alluding to before. Now Steve, do you have a desired salary?"

"Well, I don't want to ask for the moon in terms of money," he said, "But if it's as low as, like, $15,000, I probably might as well just stay home, 'cause I think I'd end up losing money on it. Y'know, gas prices and mileage and all."

"Oh? How far away do you live, may we ask?" queried Traci.

"In Davidsonville. About fourteen miles," he said.

"Oh goodness," said Debbie, "That is a good little distance to come to work each day, yes."

"You're telling me," he said. "But if I have any chance of getting it, I told you how much I need the job."

"Well, we do pretty well here financially," she said. "I think we could offer you somewhere from $25,000 to $30,000 annual starting wage if we decided to hire you. Do you have a preferred schedule, or certain hours you'd like to work as opposed to others?"

"Mm, not really," he said. "I mean, I seriously am very flexible. Wide open with things like time."

"Wonderful. Okay then..." She motioned to Traci, and the two of them rose from the table. "Follow us, please." They led him back out and into a corner of the main exercise area, where there stood a balance scale and a wall-attached ruler from five feet upwards.

"'Kay, Steve, go ahead and take off your shoes and hop on," requested Debbie. He obliged, and she slid the pound and ounce abaci to the accurate point. "174. Very good, and now please go ahead and stand against the wall, straight up," she said, indicating the ruler. He again did as she said. "5'10". Thank you very much. You can put your shoes back on now, and we'll show you around."

She told him more about the club as they circumnavigated the interior. "So if you were to join our team, Steve," she explained, "It goes without saying you'd have a free membership for all of our facilities and services, to take advantage of in your free time. As you can see, we've got a generous variety of machines and equipment to offer, steam room, shower stalls, break lounge."

"Pretty impressive," he remarked.

"We like it," smiled Traci, amusing herself with the irony that she didn't work here. Eventually, they made their way back around to the interview room again.

"So, Steve," said Deb, as they sat back down, "We do put a lot of effort into making our amenities as attractive as possible. I hope that was apparent in our tour."

"Definitely," said Steve. "I've gotta say, I didn't really—but this is a compliment, it is—I didn't expect it to be this big."

Traci giggled. "Ooh!" she replied, glancing at Debbie. Debbie threw her a look that said, Not yet.

"I hope I have at least a shot at it," he said.

Deb smirked. "Well, I won't lie to you, Steve..." Well, not THIS time, she thought. "...your chances don't actually look that bad."

His eyebrows arched. "Really?"

"Indeed. Though there is, I must inform you now, a second part of the interview...a bit more involved and physical, if you're up to it."

"Sure, sure," he said. "Anything."

Deb and Traci had to keep their lips from grinning at that word.

"Only if you are certain, Steve," Debbie added. "'Cause what we're going to ask you to do in this next interview segment is a rather unorthodox procedure."

"Okay..." he said discreetly.

"All righty," said Deb. "This being a gym and health club, Steve, it is absolutely essential that all staff members keep themselves in healthy shape. Now, you don't have to be model-thin, but being at least reasonably trim is a must. Certainly, you could see how that makes sense. Hence, why we've taken your height and weight."

He nodded. "Yeah..."

"We haven't earned our success here, Steve, by settling for mediocrity. And for this reason, the next part of the interview process through which we put our applicants is more...intimate, shall we say."

He raised his eyebrows again. "...How intimate?"

"Well, to start with," said Debbie, "In order to verify your level of physical fitness for ourselves..." She tweaked the ends of the pen she was holding between both index fingers and crossed her legs. "...we're going to need to have a look at your body."

Steve was a little taken aback, but after a beat he nonetheless stood up, held out his arms at a short distance, slowly turned around counter-clockwise until he was facing them again. He held out his arms again as if to say, "How's that?"

"Uh-huh, yes, that's very good," said Traci, "But, uh, I'm afraid we're going to need to see a little more than that."

Still standing, Steve's eyes widened a few centimeters. "You...uh...you-you-...you want me to..." He gestured to himself.

"Right, Steve," Deb told him. "As I mentioned, we'll have to see your actual...body."

Steve wasn't expecting that. His mouth slipped open, eyes darting back and forth. "Uh...but...I, uh..."

"You did tell me after all just how desperate you are for this job, and...well, this happens to be part of the requirements."

"You can start with just your tie and your shoes and ease into it, if you'd like," added Traci.

Steve swallowed. "Are y-...uh...are you...going to need to see, eh..." He gestured to himself once more, indicating.

"Well," Debbie gave him a quick once-over up and down with her eyes. "Let's start out nice and easy, like Traci said, work our way down, and just..." She shrugged matter-of-factly. "...see how it goes."

Steve remained stationary for the moment. Debbie said, "This is just business, Steve. Just keep that in mind. It's not personal at all, in any way, it's just business."

Steve was pretty unsure about this nevertheless, but he did slowly undo and remove his necktie and slipped off his shoes again.

"Good!" smiled Traci. "See, that wasn't so difficult."

"You can take your time, Steve," said Deb. "Go ahead and continue anytime you're ready."

Steve hesitated still. "I just don't know..."

Debbie went on, straight-faced. "I understand your apprehension, Steve, I very much do. I'm sorry that we have to be hard-nosed about it, but...if you insist on remaining dressed, we're going to have to presume that you're not serious about the job."

Steve could see that he wasn't left with much of a choice. He took his socks off next. Then he slowly began unbuttoning his shirt from the top down. When he reached the bottom of the shirt, he plucked it out of his slacks. He self-consciously slipped his arms out of the sleeves and completely took off the shirt. He stood still for a moment, looking back at them, holding it by the collar.

"Okay. All right, that's good," said Debbie. Pause. She waved him on. "Go on, continue."

Steve reluctantly unthreaded his belt from the loops, added it to his pile of clothes, hooked his fingers into the front of the slacks' waist to unfasten them. Eventually, down they slid.

Once he straightened back up, they saw that he was wearing tight whites underneath. Once more, they kept holding back their mouths from forming into grins, though their heartbeats were slowly accelerating as they examined the shape of the front of those tight whites. Again, he regarded them uncertainly.

They nodded. "Go ahead," repeated Debbie, gently and reassuringly. "It's okay. Just business, remember."

"Can I, eh...can I turn around?" he asked.

Debbie and Traci glanced at one another. "Sure, that's fine," Debbie said. "Sooner or later, it won't make a difference, but if it makes you feel more comfortable right now, go ahead."

Steve sighed nervously. He turned his back on them, shut his eyes, brought the briefs down the first several difficult inches, then it wasn't so tough to take them completely off either. His back was to them, but as he lifted his legs to take them out, Traci and Debbie did catch a preview of his dangling manhood. And now that he wasn't looking at their faces, they did grin, silently giggling to each other.

Finally, he covered his crotch with his hands, turned around, redder in the cheeks, and faced them again. It looked to him like they were trying not to smile.

Debbie nodded at him again. "Okay, Steve," she said, "Now just stand still, and don't be alarmed..." She got up from her chair and half-circled the table over to his right. "...'S nothing to worry about..." He was finding it challenging to not be alarmed.

"Like I said, again, just...business..." she inscrutably reiterated, more closely studying him up and down. "Remember...you, need, this, job." She reminded herself that for now, his off-limits regions were just that. She forced herself to behave and not immediately grab him between the legs like a madwoman. Instead, she ran a fingernail (extension) lightly from his right shoulder blade down his back until she got to his waist, at which he quivered a little, and she saw him rising up just a tad under his hands. "Hmmm..." she said, pretending to be pensive, scanning the shape of his body, being serious on the outside and enjoying it immensely on the inside. She smoothed her hands over his arm to get the feel of his muscle tone, then squatted down to rub his leg. "Not bad..." he heard her say. Still squatting, she held onto his leg for balance and her palm made its way from the side of the leg up to the waist, then down the thigh.

"Nice," she commented with a nod. She stood up, thoroughly viewing and Braille-reading his chest next, followed by his stomach. When she rode the long nails across his abdomen, he reflexively sucked it in and chuckled.

"Tickle?"

He nodded sheepishly. When she finished, she cordially rested a hand on his shoulder and remarked, "Steve, you are looking pretty solid to me. I'd say your chances of landing this job have solidified as well, not to mention your, uh..." She caught herself looking down, and abruptly flipped her gaze up to her gal pal. "Trace? Wanna have a look at him?"

By this time, his hands were having trouble completely concealing his nether-region. He was nervous as he saw that Traci had the same long fingernails. He sort of wanted her to touch him too, but also didn't. He couldn't help but wonder just how not "personal" this interview was—or so they claimed. As for Traci, she did very much want to look at him up close, but she was also a little concerned with how he felt about it. "Well, only if that's all right with you, Steve."

He honestly didn't know, and told them so. Traci said, "Well, then, let's just go ahead and move on. Deb and I very much trust each other's judgment." Besides, I'm sure there'll be time to get real close and friendly later.

Debbie came back around next to Traci and sat down. "All right, Steve, now I think we're going to need you to perform a few short exercises for us. For example, could you give us some...jumping jacks?"

Steve didn't say anything right away. He looked down at his hands, which, still over his genitalia, had now been pushed out several inches from the rest of him.

Debbie continued, trying to sound as professional and formal and businesslike as she could, even though she was loving how kinky this was getting. She thought about the size and shape of his erection when they would inevitably see it, and the mental image gave her the slightest lovely twinge in the nipples. "Steve, if you're worried about putting your whole self on display, you needn't be. We are big girls, after all. We can handle the sight of a penis like adults. It's not like we've never seen it before."

"Of course, Steve," added Traci, "We're all grown-ups here. We've all seen plenty of this."

Steve regardless didn't think he could do this and make eye contact at the same time, so he lowered his gaze, shifting his eyes back and forth, and returned his hands to his sides, letting his now very stiff member bounce out.

"Good. There, see?" he heard one of them say. He still felt embarrassed, even though they told him there was no reason to be. He couldn't help it. He moved his eyes everywhere about the rest of the room: wall to wall, ceiling, window blind, unoccupied chairs, back to the floor. The other one said, "Now, if you want, you can do some jumping jacks for us. But if there's...not enough blood in your legs to work them out right now, we can do something else instead. Feel like doing some...push-ups for us? Tummy crunches? Sit-ups, anything like that?"

"Yeah, I, uh..." he said, trying to decide where to look, "I think the crunches would probably be better first."

"Okay, good," said Debbie. They stood again and returned to his side of the table, and Deb turned the chair in which he'd been sitting to the side. "Now hang tight, and I'll go grab you a mat," she said, slipping open the door and trotting out. The expression made Steve redden a little, thinking she was communicating a little innuendo, but "hang tight" was such a casual common phrase of Debbie's, she didn't even notice the double significance it held at that moment.

Steve was still feeling awkward in the situation. If all of them or even two of them were naked, or they were all still dressed, it of course wouldn't feel very uncomfy at all. When Deb ran out temporarily and he was standing completely naked, hands at his sides, his stiffened penis right out in the open in front of just Traci, in a way it almost felt even more uncomfy. He looked up at Traci. He thought he caught her looking at his crotch, but she looked right back at him with a friendly smile.

He could not have fathomed what Traci was thinking. For all he knew she was just being professional like Debbie, but instead Traci's mind, she was having to repeatedly force herself not to start kissing and groping him. He was just that attractive to her. Fortunately, only about twenty to thirty seconds later, Debbie returned, opened the door the entire way, proclaimed, "Here we go!" and slid in a six-foot gym mat on its side. She let it fall in front of the chair.

"There y'are, Steve, go ahead and lay down, heels on the chair. We'll hold on to your feet and legs for you." He lowered himself down and did so, as did they. "Okay," said Debbie, "Go ahead and begin whenever you're ready. Don't worry about how many you can or can't do, just begin and continue until you can't do any more."

As he brought himself to the appropriate crunch position, his penis and balls descended beneath his raised legs, where they remained tucked. Deb and Traci smiled at each other at how adorable the sight was.

Traci spoke. "A'right, Steve, let me just get a firm grasp on your ankles here, so I can help you out..." She sat up on her knees. She pulled his feet a few inches higher up on the chair seat with his toes, letting her hand idly drift down the bottoms of his feet, half accidentally and half intentionally grazing his soles with her nails. He giggled out loud.

"Oh gosh, sorry," Traci apologized, playing innocent. "Did I get'cha that time?"

Again, he shyly smiled affirmatively. He got underway with his crunches. The women watched with admiration and intrigue. He went on with them for a good little while.

"You know, I really am quite impressed with the muscularity in your legs, Steve," said Deb, giving his calves a squeeze. "I'm starting to think you could indeed be very, very valuable in our capacity." It was her turn to engage in a mischievous act of pretense. She mustered up her nerve, made-believe she lost her grip on him, let go of one of his calves, snuck her hand beneath his legs and copped a mild but definitely noticeable feel on him, both the cock and testicles together, quick, discreet and ladylike. He let out a gasp in mid-crunch. Traci threw a hand over her mouth in impish amusement.

"OH my goodness!" exclaimed Debbie, trying to keep her face straight, a task heaped with more and more difficulty each moment. "I am SO sorry, Steve, my hand just slipped right off your leg!"

Steve resumed his crunches. He let out a small, nervous, closed-lip chuckle, feeling jittery but trying to be polite. He performed a few more, then finally removed his hands from behind his neck and let his body rest on the floor.

When they realized he was finished, Debbie and Traci released his legs and gave him a small round of applause. "Well done, Steve," Deb congratulated. "Do you want to do another exercise for us right now, or, we could take a short break, if you'd like?"

Steve wanted to do whatever it took to get this over with and be allowed to put his clothes back on, and hopefully so that he could also still attain the job, so he said, "I could do something else...like what?"

"Well, I think push-ups would be good," decided Debbie. "Don't you, Trace?"

"Absolutely," agreed Traci, starting to become turned on.

"All right, so Steve, why don't'cha hop up, and—oh, y'know what? Why don't you do them up there on the table? That way, we can have a better view of your activity." She read the startled expression on Steve's face at this suggestion. "Oh, don't worry," she said. "This table is incredibly sturdy. It can hold up to 300 pounds."