The Interview Pt. 01

Hannah did not actually want to become a porn star. Her life had been riddled by pain and disappointment, and she needed something to remove her from it. Something stronger than the smut in her secret library. Something tangible and real. A new reality. So when an ad for one specific man caught her eye, she replied immediately before she could think better of it.

The tight mini dress smoothed over her body like a second skin as she walked. Eyes ogled her as they passed, men and women alike. The street was long and offered plenty the opportunity for a peek. The address was surprisingly close and didn't require a ton of walking to reach the house.

It looked like an ordinary, lived-in suburban home. A car in the curving driveway, neatly trimmed bushes hiding the windows, trees towering overhead. Something scuttled past her feet and Hannah turned to see a small black cat disappear through the hedge. Taking a deep breath, she knocked.

The door creaked open, revealing a pair of suspicious gray eyes. Hannah flushed.

"Er--hi, I'm here for, for an interview?"

She turned her body toward him suggestively, nerves in a tangled mess. Sweat appeared on her trembling palms and she brushed them against the fabric. The man looked her up and down, darted his gaze around the street, then opened the door wider. Hannah stepped through.

The house was surprisingly clean. Based on the description of what the man does, she'd expected a less hygienic interior. Wood floor shone against the artificial light, shoes lined neatly along the wall. The hallway led out to a spacious living room, fully furnished with chairs, a coffee table, ottomans, and a full length couch. The floor cut off into soft beige carpet. It smelled like summer air.

"Wait here," the man gestured to a high-backed chair and left.

Hannah clenched her fists in her lap. Her heart was pounding loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. Had this been such a good idea? Before she could answer herself, someone strode in. A much bigger man than the first. His hair was dark and curly, eyes of the same color sparkling from behind a very smug expression. Muscles bulged from his arms, but everything else was fat. Pillows of it. Hands large and capable. He eyed her like a hungry wolf.

Hannah gulped.

"So you don't want to become a porn star, eh?"

She struggled to speak.

"N-no. I-I just need an escape."

"Don't they all," he sighed and ran a hand through his curls. "You are not to take me lightly, Hannah. I break girls like you. Girls who want a name for themselves and be used as a fuck toy, a whore. I train them. I own them. They don't come here for escapes; they come here for their death."

Sweat broke out on her forehead. He grinned.

"But I can make an exception.

First of all, you'll need a better name. I always rename my toys."

Toys..

Hannah wiped her palms down her thighs.

"O-okay. What, did you have in mind?"

He assessed her critically, eyes scrutinizing every inch of body, squinting in thought. He pressed one finger against his mouth. With a smack of lips the name popped out.

"Aurora."

She was taken aback, expecting a much smuttier name, like Cherry or Pussycat.

"Like the princess?"

His smile was wry.

"Like a fucked princess. Woken by a much more carnal love."

Hannah swallowed. The next question blurted forth without much forethought.

"A-and what shall I call you?"

His gray gaze leveled with hers.

"I am your Master."

He leaned forward, fat rolling, arms bulging as one hand reached for her trembling jaw.

"And by the time I am finished with you, princess, you will be nothing more than a filthy little slut."

She couldn't breathe. He sat back and cracked his thick neck.

"Are we understood?"

"Y-yes sir," she stuttered. "Er--Master."

He smiled thinly.

"Good girl. Now, first things first."

He heaved himself off the chair and disappeared around the corner, returning with a handful of papers. Smacking them onto the coffee table, he declared,

"Signatures."

Hannah blanched at the papers. Enough ink covered their entirety to last a week for her college classes. Headers, articles, bullet points. And of course, the ominous straight line waiting at the bottom. Numbly her fingers grasped the pen, scanning eyes unseeing.

"You might want to read it before you sign over your soul," the man chuckled, bemused.

She blushed and picked up the first of the stack. Most of it spouted incomprehensible jargon, though a few familiar words and phrases jumped out. Contract, treatment, accept the risk, I hereby consent. Lists of differing method and circumstance. Check boxes of what she was comfortable with.

Silently squirming, she placed marks beside what she recognized and even a few she didn't. There were several even she in her quest for total fantasy refused to allow. Some things were better off separated from reality. Every bit of this was real, but Hannah was sure pills would be provided.

After what felt like hours the pen glided over the line.

Hannah glanced up nervously into the satisfied expression of the man. As he leaned close to take the binding sheets, a rough whisper sent shivers down her spine.

"You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, Aurora. Your Master is very pleased."

He planted a soft, lingering kiss to her temple; her first contact.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"On your knees."

Hannah stood in the middle of a square room. The flooring gleamed in rosy patterns. A harsh light hung overhead. One soft rug lay spread in the very center, and it was here she stood, barefoot, in nothing but an off-white night slip.

The big man, her master, looked like some menacing shadow with his shining grey eyes, dark suit, and bristling hair. The man who meant to break her. His smug expression pulled into a frown at the lack of movement from his newest recruit.

"I said."

Hannah gasped at the hand around her throat, applying just enough downward pressure to force her onto the small rug.

"On. Your. Knees."

It was slightly springy without a hint of the hard floor beneath. For that she was grateful.

The man noted the tears in her eyes with sympathy. His voice came out soft and she blinked rapidly.

"I do not wish to cause you pain, dear girl. But this is a lesson in command, and you need always obey a direct order."

The genuineness made it easy for Hannah to gulp and nod in agreement. If she wanted this fantasy to happen, it needed her cooperation.

"Good girl," he purred, fondling her auburn locks. "Now. I need you to stay here until I tell you to get up. No matter how bright the light. No matter if the floor begins to feel hard. You are a star, now, so you best act like one."

He left without a backward glance.

Moments ticked by. Hannah peeked around her prison, taking in the blank windowless walls and gloom cast by the hanging bulb. Obviously it was meant to subdue, but she viewed it more as a portal into this strange new world. No outside noise filtered in. No cars, no shouting, no sirens. All was peaceful and silent and still. She found herself relaxing into an almost lull when a footstep echoed in the open threshold.

The room also lacked a door.

Hands cupped her face, pulling her out of the trance. Master smiled proudly. He leaned in to brush his plump lips against her cheek and bade her to rise.

"You have done well, Aurora. This is only the beginning. The more fantasy you wish to achieve, the more difficult these demands become. You have passed the first test: submission. Do you consent to the next?"

Hannah smiled weakly.

"I do."

"Then follow me."

The hallway opened into a tall staircase, beige carpet muting their steps. It turned into a small room with much more light than the previous. Afternoon sun streamed through a large window. Neither curtains nor blinds blocked the outside and its view overlooked a few balconies from the apartments one lot over.

Hannah stared at the strangers lounging on their chairs, some smoking cigarettes, some drinking beer. Their unkempt appearances suggested a lower standard of living and she knew these to be for the very low income. Such a shift from the sparkling house of her interview.

Without warning a heavy presence pressed against her back. Large hands looped around to hold her breasts through the slip and she immediately felt her cheeks redden. Breath just as heavy as his body heaved against her neck, warm and hot from an open mouth.

Tingles raced through her. What was he doing? The window was wide open! His hands hadn't moved and she reached up to push them and him away. Faster than a blink he whirled and pinned her against his pillowy torso. Hannah yelped, squirming beneath the heavy panting against her skin and two strong hands, one locked around her waist and the other grabbing mercilessly at her breast.

By now a couple beer drinkers had noticed and were staring. Hannah blushed profusely, feebly attempting to wriggle free, avoiding their curious gazes.

Something wet sucked at her neck. Breath fanned her jaw. Thick fingers curled against her full slip, fondling, seeking, searching. She knew what for. The middle one found it and stroked gently.

"Agh," a strangled gasp escaped her throat. The two men were now watching intently. One was making the subtle motion of rubbing his groin. What was this? Had she checked this box? Did she remember reading it in the bullet points? How had she okayed this?

The hand and mouth became more vigorous, groping and kissing and panting until heat flooded her and pooled between her legs. The hand cupped her breast, feeling its modest weight, squeezing its full softness. She mewled, face burning at the involuntary sound. The lips wetly mouthing her skin hummed in appreciation and suddenly the cup of her slip was pulled aside.

Fresh panic seized her. His hand fondled as before but this time his fleshy skin kissed hers. Squeezing and kneading like it was a mound of dough. It was too much.

"Master.."

The breathy whisper slipped trough her conscience. The man on the deck rubbed himself furiously. Shame and embarrassment and arousal vied within her quaking body. Heat pulsed below her stomach. A pinch on the nipple and she cried out, nearly undone. The sounds of sucking and smacking and breathing grew distant. All she knew was her tortured pleasure and the uncomfortable feel of eyes watching from afar.

At another strangled squeal, the fondling and breathing slowed to a stop. Panting, Hannah dazedly turned her head and was met with a wet kiss on the lips. Too lost in pleasure to respond, her lips remained parted when it was over, brows furrowing in confusion. She'd been so close. So. Close. Why had he stopped?

Hands gently sat her on a chair away from the window. The slip had been fixed back into place. Hannah's head cleared as the man sat to face her, expression smug as before. The praising words tumbled from his lips, those warm wet lips. Suddenly the sensation of their treatment crept into her awareness like a trail of hot slime.

"W-what, was, that?"

He grinned at her attempt to speak through ragged breaths. Placed a hand on her bare knee. As before he leaned in close, eyes stormy and glittering.

"That, dear Aurora, was your second test."

~Sugar_Spice3

**To be continued! What do you think her third test will be?**