The Interview: Second Session

This story is dedicated to a dear friend in thanks for their invaluable help, advice and encouragement. Thank you, J.

It was a few minutes before our next session and I viewed the room closely, scrutinising it, making sure everything was in place. My laptop was open showing a view of the landing outside this room. I suspected that Hanna was wearing a coat to hide the tarty nature of the clothes I had told her to wear. I hadn't specifically told her not to do so and I couldn't help liking her shyness. We would work together to the point where the coat was no longer necessary but that might take a while. In the meantime, I would let it pass.

Directly in front of my desk was the usual straight-backed chair. I had arranged all the lights behind me pointing at the chair and it was the brightest focus of the room. Displayed across the front of the desk were a variety of whips, crops, and wooden paddles. I had no intention of using them, but I needed to know how familiar she was with them. I knew that K, her previous Mistress who had sent Hanna to me, did not have my qualms about using such devices. I suspected that Hanna had felt them all at one time or another. It may even be that she had enjoyed them. I would tell by her reaction to the sight of them.

My laptop suddenly went 'ping' as it reacted to the motion sensor device in the camera and I watched as Hanna slowly came into view, climbing the stairs. My guess had been right, she was wearing a coat. She stopped outside the door and looked up and down the stairwell, nervous that someone might appear. All was quiet as she slipped off her coat and draped it over the banister. She had managed to find even more skimpy clothes from somewhere. She must have spent some time over the last week in getting them. Ten out of ten for effort, young Hanna, I mused to myself. Her skirt was even shorter than last week and was pleated tartan, an almost schoolgirl pastiche. I could see why she had chosen to wear a coat. I doubt she would have survived any journey not wearing it. She also had on a white blouse, unbuttoned all the way down and tied above her navel with a knot. Her shoes were black and had long heels and were held by a strap around the ankles.

I watched her glance at her watch before she removed it and tucked it into a pocket of her coat. Then she turned to face the door. I smiled to myself as she took a deep breath and raised her hand and tapped on the door. I let her wait for a few seconds before calling out, "Come!"

She nervously opened the door and crept in. I put on a stern face and pointed to a spot just in front of the chair. She did as she was told at once and I was pleased to see that she stood in the proper position as I had taught her, feet apart and hands behind her head. I carefully looked her up and down as her face slowly grew more pink with her blush. Now that I could see and examine her more closely, I was amazed at the effort she had made. She really had taken on the role of the archetypal slutty schoolgirl as seen in so many cheap porn films. Her blouse gaped wide and there were hints of her small breasts showing. And her skirt was daringly short, she must have altered it especially.

"I see you have made an effort, well done. It must have been an interesting journey here dressed as a slut."

I was mocking her, but she had no idea I knew her secret. I watched a look of concern flash across her face but when I made no further comment she started to relax again. I smiled at her.

"Strip!"

I wanted no slow descriptive undressing as I had made her go through last time. I had decided that, from now on she would be naked as soon as she entered the room.

"Put your clothes in that box," I told her pointing to a plastic box to the side of my desk.

She quickly complied, after all she was only wearing two items. She struggled a little with the knot holding her blouse together, but her skirt was gone more quickly. She stood back up straight and dropped her gaze to the floor.

"And the shoes."

She bent to unbuckle the thin straps then quickly kicked them off, bent to pick them up and dropped them into the box.

"Now sit. Like I showed you before."

She stepped back and sat on the chair. She blushed again as she spread her legs as far as they would go. As she arranged herself, I picked up the box with her clothes and carried it to the door. I placed it outside on the landing. For a moment I thought about confiscating her coat, but this was still very early in her training. Later I would make her leave it at home. I went back to my chair behind the desk and gave her a nod of approval. She had remembered well. I waved my hand, gesturing at the array of whips and other devices. Her face reddened even more.

"Do you recognise these?" I asked her.

"Yes, Sir." Her voice tremulous with the edge of fear.

"I have no doubt that Miss K. used them upon you.

" Yes, Sir."

"I think they have a beauty about them," I paused before continuing, "but I am not a fan of their use, except under extreme circumstances. Does that make you happy or sad?"

"Very happy, Sir."

"You will have to be extremely disobedient or disrespectful before I use them but use them I will if I deem it necessary. Do as I tell you, quickly and without argument, and you will be spared their kisses."

"Thank you, Sir."

The look on her face was one of relief. How would she react to my next revelation? I opened a drawer in the desk and took out a small object which I kept hidden, before slowly lifting it high enough that she could see it.

"Do you recognise this?"

"Y- yes, Sir. It's a butt plug."

"Quite right. Have you used one before?"

"Yes, Sir. Miss K. used to make me wear one.

"Did you, or she, insert it?"

"She did, Sir."

"Well, today it will be your job. Stand up and come here and take it from me."

She stood up nervously, unclasped her hands and stepped forward. Her hand shook slightly as she took it from my fingers.

"Hold it still," I told her, reaching into the drawer for a tube of lube. I squeezed some onto the tip of the plug and watched it flow slowly down the sides. "Spread it all over. I'm sure you will need it. Now, return to your place and move the chair to one side."

She turned and walked back to the chair. With one hand she lifted it and moved it out of the way.

"Now, stand in the centre with your back to me. And now kneel," I commanded.

She almost glance behind her in my direction before doing as she was told. Maybe a glimpse of the whips served as a reminder and made her obey quickly. Surely, she must guess what was coming.

"Bend forward and place your head on the floor. Arse as high as it will go. Knees a little further apart."

I waited while she adjusted her position. The lights concentrated on her arse. I could see her cunt lips, already oozing with her juices. Her anus in clear view, waiting for her next move. I enjoyed the view for a few moments, before ...

"Put the plug in!"

It soon became clear that she was not practiced at doing it herself, but I wanted her to go through it in full knowledge that I was watching. She slid the tip of the plug along her crack until finally finding her anus. She was nervous in the extreme and as she pushed, it went into her with agonising slowness. It went in about halfway and then she stopped. In the quiet room I heard the faint sound of her sobbing.

"Please, Sir, I can't ..." but I cut her short.

"Just do it, slut," I told her coldly. After all she had taken one several times before and I had deliberately chosen the smallest one I owned. She had no reason to complain. I heard her sniffle and then she slowly began to push again. I watched in fascination as her arse stretched in an effort to accept the intruder. She reached the widest point.

"Wait, rest there a moment. How does that feel?"

"It hurts, Sir."

"Don't be such a cry baby," I told her, "Now finish the task."

She gave it one last push and it popped inside her. Her arse slowly closed around the base, and I heard her moan, whether with relief or pleasure I'm not sure.

"Do not move."

As quietly as I could I stood up and fetched a small board from the corner. I placed it on the floor behind her. It was a white board and contained an arrangement of clothes pegs. I returned to my seat behind the desk.

"You may kneel up straight again," I told her, "Then turn around to face me."

I watched as she pushed herself upright and then awkwardly shuffled round to face me. She looked surprised to see the board with the pegs in front of her. She glanced up at me and I saw her tear-streaked face. I was sure there would be even more tears before too long.

"What do you see on the floor in front of you?"

"Some clothes pegs, Sir."

"Not just 'some' pegs, but an arrangement. Describe it to me."

She looked more closely before answering. "At the top there's three pegs, then a space then another three pegs. Below them another three pegs with the middle one higher than the other two."

"Well done, that was very good. Now, what do you think their purpose might be?"

"I ... I'm not sure, Sir."

"Come, girl, you may be a slut, but you are far from stupid. Make a guess."

"Am I to pin them on myself, Sir?"

"Well done," I said sarcastically, "I knew you'd get there. What about the arrangement?"

She thought for a moment before answering, "the top row is for my breasts, Sir?"

"And those below?"

"For my pussy, Sir," her voice now quiet and shaking.

"Yes, for your slut cunt. Right, top row, starting from the left, the first one goes to the left of your nipple. Do it!"

I raised my voice as I saw her hesitate and she jumped into action. Her hand shook as she reached out and picked up the first peg. She slowly lifted it up and opened its jaws and then she hissed as she allowed it to clamp down. She hunched over slightly until the initial sting went away.

"Now one to the right of your nipple."

After the initial shock of the first one she was less hesitant and made no sound as she applied the second peg.

"Now, the third one. I'm sure you can guess where that goes."

She was nervous and shaking again as she picked up the last peg of that group. I saw her biting her lip as she squeezed the jaws open and then let them bite down on her nipple. The was a huge intake of breath and I was sure I heard a muffled, "oh, fuck" before she knelt upright, breathing heavily.

"How is that?" I asked her.

"They hurt, Sir. Can we ...?"

"Of course not, you still have six more to go. Besides, I think you are enjoying this, judging by the pool of liquid between your thighs. I think your cunt tells a different story."

She glanced down at the slowly spreading pool of her juices.

"Oh my god, Sir. I'm so sorry."

"My purpose was to bring you pleasure and it seems like I am succeeding. And don't worry about the mess. You can clean it up later. Now, back to the main business. The next group. You should know by now what is expected."

Tears welled up in her eyes again and more streaks of black makeup appeared on her cheeks but, to be fair, she returned to the task. With a deep breath and a sense of resolve, she picked up another peg. With less hesitation this time she applied the peg to her right breast. Then a second, and finally a third on her nipple. She leaned back slightly, breathing heavily, and looking down at her newly decorated chest. I interrupted her reverie.

"And the final three. Where are those to go, do you think?"

She looked at me with horror. "Not on my ...?" a look of disbelief flashing across her face.

"Yes, of course, on your cunt. Your deliciously wet and oozing cunt. One each on your two lips, please."

I leaned back in my chair. It sounded like a polite request, but she knew it was an order. With one hand holding the peg open and the other hand tugging at her labia she managed to attach a peg to one side. I said nothing but smiled at her willingness to obey. Swapping hands, she repeated the operation on the other side. Then she knelt, silently staring at the last remaining peg. She glanced up at me with pleading eyes.

"Do I have to, Sir?"

"It is the last one and then it is all over," was all I said.

She picked up the peg and looked down at herself. her arousal had made her clit swell and it peered out of its usual hiding place. She moved the last peg closer, waiting until the last moment before squeezing it open. Then, quickly into place and let go. She gave out a shriek and swore "fuck, fuck, fuck." She looked at me and saw my smile. She looked proud of herself and so she should. I had half expected rebellion at some point and for her to look at me with loathing, but she didn't. She had got there, and she was pleased with herself.

"Well done, little Hanna. Now they must come off. Do you want to do it, or would you like me to do it?"

"C ... could you please, Sir."

"Then come here and sit on my lap," I told her pushing my chair back from the desk to make more room.

Slowly and painfully, being careful not to jar or knock the pegs, she stood up. She hobbled around the desk, knees bent slightly, and thighs splayed wide. I held out my arms to her and she turned around and backed carefully onto my lap. She nestled into me, hiding her face in my shoulder. My shirt would need washing directly we had finished, I found myself thinking.

"Where should we start?" I asked rhetorically. "Here, where you began?" flicking at the pegs on her breast as I did so. Taking the one on her nipple and tugging at it. "Or down here, where you ended?" I jiggled and tweaked at the pegs, making them dance and making her cry out at the new agony. I pulled gently at her clit peg, and she yelped and placed her hand over mine, trying to still it. I immediately froze and looked at her sternly.

"Remove your hand ... at once!"

She jumped like a startled rabbit and her hand flew off mine. I smacked her hard on the thigh, leaving a red handprint behind.

"Never try and control me again. Is that understood? Whatever happens it is my choice and mine alone." I paused to let that sink in while continuing to pull gently on her clit peg. Every time I pulled, she grimaced, and, for some reason, I found that amusing. "I think we will start up here," I told her, releasing my hold on the peg I was playing with and moving my attention to her left breast. I tugged at each in turn getting a tiny "Ow!" with each one. I ended up on the first one that had gone on. I pulled at it and twisted and then squeezed it and off it came. It brought forth a yelp of surprise. She must have known that removing them was as painful as putting them on but perhaps she had forgotten. She was now ready for the next one. I pulled and twisted again before releasing it. This time she was almost silent apart from a tiny whimper. I took a little longer with her nipple peg, repeatedly pulling and twisting it, watching the way her small breast extended and distorted this way and that. When it finally came off the marks on her soft flesh were plainly visible.

I was quicker with her other breast and her little grunts became one long hiss of agony. And then I stopped, looking closely at her face. She must have sensed the moment as she turned her head and looked back at me. There was an almost tangible tension in the room. Furrows of worry crossed her forehead. We both knew what was coming, what had to happen, and I was the only one looking forward to it.

I used both hands on the pegs gripping her labia and watched in fascination as I pulled them apart. Her lips stretched and the void between them widened. For a while I played with them, stretching her lips this way and that. I was amazed at their flexibility. It was a mesmerizing sight. Finally, I released one and then the other. She whimpered as the sensations returned to normal. I took hold of the last peg. All of a sudden, I felt sorry for her and released it almost at once. It must have hurt because she buried her face in my chest once more and flung her arms around my neck. I stayed still, letting her recover at her own pace. I stroked her soft hair and occasionally whispered a "there, there," sound of comfort.

Slowly she calmed down and uncoiled little by little. She lifted her face up to look at mine and there were tears in her eyes, but this time they were tears of joy.

"Thank you, Sir," she managed to say.

I kissed her on the tip of her nose. "Am I forgiven for being so cruel?" I asked her.

"Oh, Sir, I feel wonderful," was her surprising answer.

"We still have your plug to deal with," I reminded her, "do you want to do it, or would you allow me that pleasure?"

"Please can you do it for me, Sir.

"I think you should move and lie across my knee."

Eagerly she stood up, turned, and draped herself over my knee. I laid a hand on her arse cheeks and stroked them gently. They were warm and felt like silk. I could see the circular black base of the plug nestled between them.

"Reach back and hold your cheeks apart," I told her.

Obediently her hands appeared, and the full base of the plug came into view. I took hold of it and wiggled it this way and that. Below me I heard her giggle quietly. I started to pull, and I watched in awe as her little puckered hole began to expand. Going in, the size of the plug had increased slowly, but the change coming out was much more rapid. I was forced to pull quite strongly to overcome her natural resistance. When I got to the point of maximum thickness I paused, holding it in place, allowing her to experience it fully. I let it slide back in and then pulled a second time. She was moaning continually and also leaking from her cunt profusely. The stain on my trousers was spreading rapidly. I kept pulling past the bulge of the plug and then changed to a slight push as I let it slide out of her. She gave a sigh of regret when it finally left her. She made as if to move but my hand on the small of her back stopped her. I stroked her cheeks once more.

"You have a wonderfully spankable arse," I told her, "Perhaps next time ..."

I left the sentence unfinished to tantalise her. I gave her a couple of light taps, one on each cheek. They were nowhere near my firmest and she giggled again. It would be interesting to see how long the giggling would last if I spanked her seriously. I ran a finger between her cheeks and massaged her rosebud, which brought out a long low moan of pleasure. I moved on and pushed a finger inside her cunt. She really was remarkably wet, and my hand was quickly covered with her slowly seeping juices. I tapped her on the arse once more.

"Up you get, little slut."

I pointed to the pool of moisture on the floor in front of my desk.

"Clean that up before you go."

She looked around wildly, searching for a cloth.

"What should I ...?" she asked plaintively.

"You have a tongue, haven't you?"

She initially looked shocked and then, with an air of resignation, got down on her hands and knees and began to lick the floor. I sat back and watched her quietly for the next five minutes, occasionally pointing out a spot she'd missed. When she finally decided that the floor was clean enough, she stood up in front of the desk in the correct position.

"Good girl. You may go now. Same day and time next week."

I picked up a file from a drawer and pretended to look through it, ignoring the look of disappointment on her face. With downcast eyes and a body that screamed sadness she made her way to the door. As she was closing it behind her, I called out.

"You may masturbate to orgasm when you get home."

I heard a click and looked up from the file. The door was shut, and she was gone. I quickly opened the laptop, and the screen sprang into life. I watched her dress herself and then hide inside her coat before slowly and reluctantly heading down the stairs.