The Interview

The knock when it came was almost inaudible even though the room was silent. It was like a mouse scratching in dust. Of course, I knew who it was, or who it ought to be, and I glanced at the clock. She had been told to be on time, that she would be punished for being late, but it was five minutes before her appointment. I decided to let her wait. Being over-eager and early was almost as bad as being late. She had to learn.

I busied myself setting up the cameras and noisily banging pieces of furniture to let her know I was in here. Then I sat behind my desk and picked up her file. Her name was Hanna, without the final 'H' I noted, and she was 20 years of age. She had been recommended to me by a colleague. Their simple and brief notes stated that Hanna was introverted but eager to embrace the skills we teach. She was obedient but with an occasional rebellious streak. My colleague, Miss K. felt that she was not responding to the discipline of a female and that she would benefit from the attentions of a man, hence why she was being sent to me.

The knock came on the door once more, a little louder this time. I glanced at the clock, still a minute to go. I put down the file and leaned back in my chair, looking across my desk at the solitary upright chair in the centre of the room. That was to be her first test. A third knock, this time with a hint of impatience behind it. I smiled to myself. First meetings are always critical. They set the tone.

"Come!" I called finally.

As the door opened, I leant forward and put my elbows on the desk and looked at her for the first time. As she walked into the room, I made my first assessment. She was undoubtedly pretty and looked younger than her twenty years. She had mousy brown hair, hanging freely, and reaching just below her shoulders. I watched as she looked around nervously and, seeing me examining her, she dropped her gaze to the floor. She was demurely dressed in a white blouse and black mid-thigh skirt. The length of her skirt hid whether she was wearing tights or stockings. Her black, three-inch heels click-clacked across the wooden floor and she walked over to the lonely chair and sat down, folding her hands neatly into her lap, eyes still fixed to the floor. She didn't look up so didn't see me frown.

"Did I say you could sit?" I snapped at her.

She looked up in alarm, flicked a look at me and sprang to her feet.

"Well young..." I paused and flicked open her file, pretending to look for her name, "... Ahhhh, Hanna. This is not a good start, is it? Arriving well before your appointed time and sitting without my express permission."

"I...I...I'm sorry," she stuttered and then, "... Sir," she added hastily.

"I can see we have work to do. Will you be worth the effort I ask myself."

"I will try harder, Sir. Miss K. always...

I cut her short with an impatient wave of my hand.

"Miss K. is not here. She and I differ in our methods. While you are here you belong to me and obey only me. Is that understood?"

She glanced up nervously. "Yes, Sir." she said in a quiet voice.

"Good. Now, take off your blouse!"

There was a momentary hesitation before she reached up and started to unbutton her blouse. As she took it off, she revealed a surprisingly pretty, pink bra. She looked around, the blouse dangling from one hand. I pointed to a spot on the floor.

"Just drop it there," I told her, "The floor is clean."

She let go and it crumpled to the floor, and she came back to face me, still nervously averting her eyes. The bra, although pretty in a sort of adolescent way, seemed to be hiding very little which made me curious, but I wanted to savour more of her, and it didn't help to rush these things.

"And the skirt." I ordered, trying to make my voice cold and uninviting.

This time she didn't hesitate, seeming to expect my command. The skirt joined the blouse and she turned back to me. The underwear was an attempt to match the bra, but the two shades of pink didn't quite match. I mentally applauded her effort though. Compared to her outer clothing it was quite daring in its size and cut. It left little to the imagination. I was also delighted to have an answer to my earlier mental question. She was wearing stockings, black hold-ups. I looked at her closely for some time. So, this is what I had to work with. I was not displeased at what I saw. It all depended on what was going on in her head. I let her squirm a little as I looked her up and down.

"The bra," I barked, suddenly, making her jump.

Her hands went behind her back and fumbled with the clasp. Her breasts, when they finally emerged were small and neat with nipples that were already standing out proudly. She tentatively lifted a hand to hide herself from me.

"Clasp your hands behind your head," I snapped.

Nervously she did as she was told. She certainly appeared to be obedient which pleased me.

"This is position one," I explained in a softer voice. "It is a position you must learn. In between commands you should return to this position. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir," her voice less nervous now.

"Panties." I ordered, my voice harder again.

She disentangled her hands, reached down, and pushed her underwear down her legs, stepped out of it and kicked it to the growing pile of clothing. As if suddenly remembering, she quickly gathered herself, stood up straight and put her hands back behind her head.

I could see her blush as I examined her, but she didn't flinch or try to cover up. I guess she had received similar treatment from Miss K. and so was ready for it. Her pussy was neat and was crowned by a small triangle of neatly trimmed hair, the same colour as her head. I let her suffer in silence for a couple of minutes before I spoke again.

"I see you trim rather than shave. If, and it is only if at this stage, I grant you another session you will be shaved. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And no panties," I added as an afterthought, "now, you may sit."

She awkwardly backed up to the chair and sat down, hands still clasped behind her head.

"Spread your knees," I commanded and stood up.

Without waiting to see if she complied, I went to a corner and returned carrying a small but powerful spotlight on a stand. I placed it on the floor in front of her and adjusted the height until it was level with her knees which were about six inches apart, which I found annoying and disappointing.

"Wider!" I told her, raising my voice to show my displeasure.

Her legs parted another few inches. I became exasperated and tugged her legs apart as wide as they would go.

"When I say spread, I mean just that."

I pushed the spotlight closer to her and turned it on. Her pussy glistened in the sudden bright light. I stepped back and looked closely. I knew from previous experience that she would feel the heat from the light, intensified by the lens. I sat back on the far side of the desk and looked at her. I could tell she was uncomfortable being so blatantly on display but that was all part of the session. The spotlight focussed on her most intimate area which was now the most brightly lit place in the otherwise dimly lit room. She squirmed a little as the heat from the light made itself known. Her pussy lips had parted and the pink inside was now showing. It seemed to shimmer with moisture. The girl was being turned on by this treatment, I thought to myself.

"You have a very pretty cunt, Hannah," I told her in a gentle voice, "does it get used much?"

"No, Sir," she replied, her voice a whisper, before adding quietly, "not since Miss K."

"Ahhhh so she used you?"

"Sometimes, Sir, but usually she wanted me to use myself."

"Hmmm, interesting. She wanted to watch you masturbate? Did she allow you an orgasm?"

At this last question her face dropped, "normally not, Sir."

"Well. if I take you on and if you deserve a reward for hard work and effort, that may change. I'm not promising anything of course," I warned her, but her faced brightened at the possibility. "And when you were away from her, did she allow it then?"

Her face drooped again, "no, Sir, I was allowed to have sex but not allowed to cum."

"So, you have been celibate for... how long?"

"Almost a year, Sir."

I fought hard to stop the look of sympathy showing on my face, even though I felt it deeply. I knew that Miss K. could be a hard bitch at times, but this put a new perspective on things. I determined to contact her and get her side of the story. Was there something I hadn't worked out about Hanna? Was I missing something?

"You will have to remain as you are for another week. The good news is that I have decided to take you on. A trial period of two sessions then I will review it." I opened my diary as if trying to find a suitable time although I was well aware of the empty dates.

"Next Tuesday at two o'clock. Be on time, neither early nor late. Now, take your scraps of clothing and go. Next time dress more in keeping with your task. And the underwear can stay with me."

Slowly, and it seemed a little sadly, she closed her legs and stood up and began to dress. As a last gesture she picked up her bra and panties and laid them almost reverently on the chair as if leaving a treasured offering for me. She knew better than to speak and left, closing the door quietly behind her.

After she had gone, I leaned back in my chair, put my feet up onto the desk, steepled my fingers to the tip of my nose and mused about Hanna's visit. I hoped I was doing the right thing although she had certainly displayed the correct temperament. I started mentally to work out a plan of action for our next two sessions.

To be continued.

The next chapter will be Hanna's account of the same first meeting.