The Interview

Hannah clung to the sheet of paper, looking back and forth between the address and the building in front of her. It was bright red, sloped roof - the word barn lit up in her brain like a neon sign. Her phone had lost signal about half a mile out, but the address matched the mailbox she'd driven by at the edge of the street. She parked at the end of a long driveway and stepped out, feeling insanely overdressed in her business casual gray pants and button up shirt. Her size C cups always pressed against the buttons, revealing a small amount of skin between, but she never cared much about it. At least she didn't look like her friend, Kelsey. Kelsey had gotten a boob job last year and looked like a straight up hooker now, tits always ready to burst out of any shirt or tank top she wore. It definitely didn't turn Hannah on - she'd never say that, let alone think it. If she felt it, well...

But this had to be some kind of joke, right? She crinkled her nose, trying to block out the smell of farm-fresh manure. She'd been given an in on an apparently desirable post-graduate intern position by that same Kelsey, her good friend and Sorority sister - 9 months paid lodging and meals, with a small stipend for what she'd imagined as being a night life. There was no night life, let alone civilization, within miles of this place.

Still, she'd gotten dressed up and set aside a Saturday for this interview. She wasn't about to just leave. She pushed aside her annoyance and began wobbling as confidently as possible down the uneven dirt path to what appeared to be a white door on the barn. As she reached it, she heard odd mooing. For a moment, she hesitated, pressing her ear against the door instead of opening it outright. It didn't sound like any cows she'd ever heard. Maybe goats? She cautiously set a hand on the heavy metal handle, having second thoughts again.

"Hannah!" she heard behind her, jumping and spinning around. "Welcome!"

Hannah's cheeks heated as she looked at the man who was striding towards her - dark hair, short trimmed beard, broad shoulders in a flannel shirt and scruffy jeans. He looked like a classic farmboy in some cheesy softcover romance novel, and she prayed she wasn't blushing as much as she felt she was. "How did you know my name?" she asked.

He chuckled, a rich sound that made her feel oddly small. "We're only expecting one interview today," he said, "so I assumed you were Hannah. Am I wrong, miss?"

Hannah was definitely blushing now, being addressed as miss. "No, sir," she said, kicking herself internally at the slip. She never called people sir. He just smiled at her like he was pleased, glancing up and down at her.

"I appreciate that, but you can just call me Dylan for now." Hannah logged that away, along with the for now. "I'm worried you may be a bit overdressed for this here operation," he said, "but don't you worry. We can figure that out in a bit. C'mon miss, let's head into the house for a bit of an interview."

Hannah glanced at her car but nodded, following him. He seemed harmless enough, and her Sorority sister knew where she was. Worst case scenario, someone would come looking for her.

Maybe she shouldn't be following him if she was thinking that, she reasoned. But the larger part of her was desperate for a job, and with the unearned confidence of a fresh graduate, she followed him into the farmhouse just next door to the barn.

They settled at the dinner table, where the man had her resume set down, along with a small spread of snacks and coffee. Only two seats were set - one at the head of the table, where Dylan sat, and the other right next to it on the left. Hannah took a seat as he pulled the chair out for her, feeling somewhat thrown by the dynamic. She brushed her caramel brown hair behind her shoulders and scooted forwards.

"Help yourself," Dylan said, taking a sip of his own cup as he looked over her resume. He was silent for a long moment, so Hannah had a sip to cut through the awkward silence. It was delicious, just the right amount of heat with the perfect balance of sweet and bitter. Hints of chocolate and plum, even. She took another sip, relishing it.

Dylan didn't speak again until she was almost done with her cup. "So Miss Kelsey graduated a year ahead of you, is that right?" Hannah nodded, glancing at the pot in the middle of the table. Dylan nodded, which she took to mean she could have more. She poured another cup.

"You two seem close," he said. "Do you have any family in the area?"

Hannah was too busy sipping the coffee to find the question strange. She shook her head. "My family lives in Boston," she said, far away from Nebraska. She'd gotten a scholarship for pole vault to the University of Nebraska, about as far from them as she could get. They didn't get along very well.

"You must miss them," Dylan said, glancing at her. She shrugged, looking down into her cup. Not really. He hummed in understanding.

"You had decent grades," he continued. "Enough to stay active as an athlete, but not much more than that."

Hannah stooped a little at that. She was always sensitive about her grades. Her father used to call her 'as stupid as her mother.' He considered his mother hot, but not good for much other than that. How she stayed with him, she'd never understood. "It's not that I didn't try," she defended.

"Of course not," Dylan soothed, his rich voice calming her slightly. She took another sip of her coffee, letting herself relax. "But a pretty thing like you shouldn't need to work hard like that."

Hannah shot him a glare, but he only chuckled. "I apologize," he said, setting her resume down. "I only meant to compliment, not offend."

Hannah huffed, but let it go. He seemed like a genuine cowboy who just didn't know better. "Fine," she said. "But tell me, what exactly are you looking for in this position?" She'd barely gotten any details from Kelsey.

Dylan leaned back in his chair, the thing creaking slightly under his size. "I imagine the same thing most internships look for," he said. "Enthusiasm. Willingness to learn. Flexibility." Hannah blushed at his pronunciation of the word, beginning to imagine things she definitely shouldn't during an interview. Had the room always been this hot. "What do you think, Miss Hannah? Are you the enthusiastic sort?"

She opened her mouth to say - yes? No? - then shut it again. She wasn't sure at all what to say. He only chuckled. "Finish your drink, sweetheart, and I'll take care of this."

Hannah huffed again - country or not, she didn't appreciate being called sweetheart - but she complied, finishing the rest of the delicious coffee. She felt toasty all over, and as he stood up and took the food to the kitchen to store it, she took the opportunity to discreetly undo her top button.

When he came back into the room, she noticed something that ironically embarrassed her. He was obviously hard, his cock pressing against the seam in his crotch and his left pant leg. She would guess he was at least seven inches, and as she imagined taking his cock into her mouth until she gagged, she realized she was incredibly horny. Horny enough that she nearly asked where the nearest bathroom was to take care of things.

Instead, she dragged her eyes up to his face, where she saw him smugly looking down at her, still seated. "You are just as gorgeous as Kelsey said," he told her, coming over and pouring her more coffee. "Be a good girl. Drink."

As he cupped her hands and helped her lift the cup to her mouth, a part of her mind tried to stop him. He'd put something in the drink, certainly, was drugging her, but a bigger part of her was too desperate to do what he wanted. Maybe they could fuck if she did. She drank deeply, staring into his brown eyes the whole time. He watched her hungrily, staring with no restraint at her breasts. They blushed rosy on her milky skin as she felt incredibly objectified.

"Unbutton your shirt," he told her, and she did without hesitating. She could feel herself getting wet through her pants. She would probably leave a wet mark on the chair when she stood. The idea gave speed to her fingers, and soon she was shirking her entire shirt on the floor, leaving only her perky breasts in her black bra for Dylan to stare down at.

"Beautiful," he said, and she beamed. "Unbutton my jeans."

She hurried to do so, desperate to see his cock in person. It pressed forward in his boxers, a drop of precum staining through his gray underwear. She reached in to release his dick, but he grabbed her hand. She could feel his strength and didn't even try to resist. He lowered her own hand to her wet crotch, then ran his other hand through her hair and pulled her forward so she was forced to breathe against his crotch through his underwear.

"There's no need to rush, darling," he hummed, and she felt his voice vibrate through her body through her face pressed against his dick and warm balls. "We have plenty of time. Get familiar."

She closed her eyes, breathing in, smelling him. Sweat, heat, salt, cum. He smelled so wonderful she could almost imagine cumming from nothing but this. She began humping her chair, her hand pressed against her mound by his own hand, her mind beginning to fuzz out completely from the coffee and the lust.

She opened her lips to lick him through the cotton fabric, moaning softly. He pressed her harder into his crotch, bucking forwards once, twice, making her moan louder. "Good girl," he said, "good girl. Say hello."

"Hello," she moaned, and he laughed at her taking it so literally.

"Cute thing," he said, although the words went in one ear and out the other. "We'll need to fatten you up, though." He removed his hand from her crotch - she was already feeling herself up without his aid - and lifted it to her breast. "You have the hips, but a nice heifer like you could do with some bigger udders."

Hannah moaned again, imagining herself ballooning out for him. That part of her mind that screamed for self preservation was getting smaller, as was all rational thought. She was only thinking with her soaking cunt now, and it was telling her to mouth at his cock and hump her hand with abandon.

"Good girl," he said, something that was quickly becoming her favorite noise. "Stand for me."

She did, awkwardly, pushing the chair back so she could get to two feet. She'd rather drop to her knees, but she wanted to follow his wishes slightly more than she wanted to suck his cock.

"Drop your pants," he told her, "you don't need them."

Gratefully, she unbuttoned her pants - difficult with how desperate she was - and yanked them to the ground. Her soaked pantied went with, leaving her standing in this stranger's dining room with her pussy bare and her tits held only by her flimsy black bra. She trembled with anticipation, staring down at his waist as he lowered his pants and finally his underwear. He was bigger than she'd thought - a solid eight inches - and she dropped to her knees on the hardwood floor without a second thought.

"Show me what that mouth can do," Dylan told her. "Prove you're smarter than you look."

She wasn't - she wasn't she wasn't - but she took his cock into her mouth because she needed it desperately.

As she took it in, she felt overwhelmingly right. Like an itch that had been all over her body suddenly dropped away. Ironic in a way, because as her head bobbed up and down on his cock, her chest, hips and ass began to ache in a way that felt like an itch deep within her bones. His hand took its place tangled in her hair again, forcing her pace faster, deeper, and she moaned.

"Oooooh," she said, cut off when his cock hit the back of her throat. He held it there for a moment until she relaxed her throat, letting him in. He began throat fucking her, slowly at first, then faster. She couldn't breathe, her lightheadedness adding to the growing pleasure in her cunt and body.

"Good, good," he said, again with her favorite word. She moaned around her cock, and for the first time he groaned. She'd never felt more pleased. She was making him feel good. "Let it take you, darling. Let it take you."

She felt herself changing, somehow - her tits were pressing against her bra, pleasurably at first, then uncomfortably. She grunted, reaching back to unhook her bra, but Dylan grabbed her hands. "No," he growled, bending them behind her but not letting her use her hands at all. "Let them grow into it. I want you to feel it."

Hannah whimpered but didn't dare disobey him. He was her... her... her Master, she thought, the word echoing with rightness. If he wanted her to leave her bra on until her growing tits burst out, she would.

At least she'd removed her panties already. As she bobbed, she felt her ass jiggle in a way it hadn't been before. It and her hips were ballooning as well, trembling with effort and fat as she deep throated her Master's cock again and again.

Tears pricked in her eyes as her chest became truly painful. Right when she thought she could take no more, he yanked her up by the hair, the pain in her scalp distracting her. She gasped, then moaned as he forced her forwards onto the table. "I'm going to fuck you," he told her, "thank me."

"Thank you," she gasped, feeling his cockhead press against her sopping pussy lips. Without any fanfare, he pressed into her to the base.

She screamed and sobbed for a moment, but only a moment. As he pulled out she whined, the emptiness in her pussy and the pressure of her growing tits against the hard table too much for her. He struck her rear with an open palm and pressed back into her. The pain and pleasure mixed and she moaned, cumming right there on his cock, but he wasn't done with her.

Over and over, he drove into her, bringing her mind down to two points only. The pressure of her now huge tits against the kitchen table, and the push and pull of his cock rearranging her insides. Occasionally he'd strike her again and she'd moan, each time sounding less and less human.

What are you doing? What's happening to me? Part of her brain wanted to ask, but it only came out as "Ooooh, mmmooooooh, moooo-" and then a gasp as she came again around her Master's cock. Her tits spilled completely free of her bra at the same time, spreading obscenely on either side of her, as she was fucked past any thinking.

"Good, good," Master hummed, and she shivered through the aftershocks of her orgasm. She was mindlessly horny even now, glowing from two orgasms and desperate for another. She had no words, though, and only moaned still impaled on his cock.

She didn't struggle as he slipped something around her neck - a collar - and tightened it snuggly. "Say your name for me, darling?" Master asked, but she couldn't think of anything.

She moaned - "Moooohhh, mooo," - and he chuckled.

"You may be a keeper," he said, pulling her upright by her new collar, and her whole body jiggled and relaxed into its new weight and softness, her athletic form completely fucked out of her. "C'mon darling, let me introduce you to the rest of the herd." She followed after him, completely nude, as he dragged her out of the kitchen and finally towards the barn that would be her new home.