The New Employee Ch. 01

THE INTERVIEW

I sat in my office, legs crossed, dressed in a white blouse, short tight black skirt and suede heels the color of an eggplant. As the owner of a business in a male industry I'd had to carve out a niche, and had very stringent, and unique, hiring practices.

My landscaping company catered to professional women who could be very demanding, and also bored housewives with too much time on their hands. I needed to replace an employee who had caused property damage and couldn't, or wouldn't, do all that was required to satisfy the customer. I was intent upon an even more rigorous interview process today. I like good Yelp reviews.

He appeared in the doorway and paused, right on time.

"Come in," I said, gesturing to the chair in front of me. "Close the door behind you."

The applicant's resume was thin, without any job history in landscaping, but he had been persistent in getting an interview so I finally granted it. At first glance I was hopeful, he was tall and muscular, fair skinned but tanned, handsome and dressed in khaki shorts and a polo shirt. He was well groomed but without pretension.

"Let's cut to the chase," I said. "You have no experience, why should I hire you?"

He immediately replied, "I need the job, and I'm willing to do anything required."

"Hmmm... we'll see. Why don't you describe, in your own words, how you are qualified for a job for which you have no actual experience."

He answered confidently, detailing his own yard work, focusing on work ethic and his attention to detail.

"Anyone can mow a lawn, dig holes, plant flowers," I said, uncrossing my legs, allowing my knees to part just a bit. "What I need is someone committed to ensuring customer satisfaction, and not everyone is willing to go that extra mile."

"I need the job, I'll do whatever it takes," he replied.

"You must understand, if a customer is not happy, they will demand some type of refund or repayment, and that falls on me, and I will therefore require that my employee make it up. What type of repayment are you willing to make?"

I watched him shift around in the chair, could see his mind swirling for an answer, his eyes darting between my eyes and the space between my thighs. Finally, he responded, "whatever is required, ma'am."

I could see that he was beginning to understand. Realize that this might not be a traditional interview.

"What are your thoughts on corporal punishment?" I asked.

"Corporal... punishment..." he stammered. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know what that is?"

I could see his mind racing faster behind his eyes now.

"Yes," he paused, "ma'am."

I imagined him bent over the chair he was sitting in, ass presented. Legs spread enough to watch his balls hanging down, vulnerable and unprotected. The look on his face revealed that he was imagining the same.

"Are you still interested in this job?" I asked, staring at him.

"Yes ma'am." His eyes were now fixed on the floor between us.

"Customer satisfaction is my number one priority, and if you fall short you would need to make up for it. In unconventional ways at times," I stated. "Do you understand?"

I watched him shift around again, somewhat squirming in his chair. "Yes."

"So let me ask you now, what soft skills do you have that could be helpful?" I separated my knees a bit further.

"I always ensure complete satisfaction, I am willing to do whatever is necessary to complete a job."

He exhibited a strange mixture of body language, somewhere between utter confidence and awkward discomfort.

"I ask again," I said, "what precise skills do you have that may become necessary?"

His eyes revealed his hesitation but also his interest as they moved from the floor, up my legs, and tried to look into the dark hidden recess under my skirt, that place my opening legs wouldn't quite reveal.

"I need this job. I will do anything you ask," he said.

I could see that he understood, his cock had grown hard beneath his shorts. He shifted again in the chair but he couldn't hide his body's reaction.

"We can end this interview if you'd like," I said flatly. "Or you can state your qualifications."

His skin had become flushed with a blend of embarrassment, curiosity and arousal. Finally, he responded, "I eat pussy like a champion."

"Is that a skill you would utilize in this job, if hired? If it were needed?" I asked.

"Yes ma'am. If needed."

I grinned. "I think you're catching on now. Shall we move on to the next phase of the interview?"

"Yes ma'am. Thank you." He replied.

I sat across from him, silent, watching him as minutes passed. His gaze would quickly run up my body then back to the floor. His breath became quicker as he waited. I enjoyed making him wait.

"The next phase," I said, "involves a demonstration."

"Okay," he replied, "of what sort?"

"Strip."

He sat for a moment before pulling off his shirt revealing strong arms, gorgeous shoulders raised above and flowing down into his collarbones, his broad chest. And delightful little pink nipples.

"More," I said. "I want to see it all."

He squirmed again in his chair before unbuckling his belt.

"Stand up," I commanded.

He stood, and released his belt, unbuttoned his shorts, pausing a moment before unzipping them and letting them drop to the floor. His eyes were looking down but his beautiful hard cock was staring right at me.

"No underwear. Nice," I said as I watched him start to instinctually cover his erection with his hands and then pull them back to his sides.

"I am going to touch you now," I said, leaning forward. I ran my fingers along his shaft before cupping his balls.

"Do you still want this job?" I asked.

"Yes ma'am."

I reached into a bag beside my chair, retrieving a black leather paddle adorned with silver studs. His apprehension was palpable, but his exposed cock twitched and bounced, saying what I wanted to know.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"You either know or you don't," I replied. "My company motto is Creativity and Initiative. Do you have those traits?"

"I do," he replied, turning around and leaning against the chair.

I stood up and moved to him, running my fingers down his back, caressing his ass.

The first smack of the paddle jolted him, his body bucking against the sting.

"Stay still," I demanded. I struck again, harder, reaching around to grasp his cock.

I wanted to know how much he could take and unleashed a relentless series of strikes as I watched his ass cheeks grow red. He cried out but his cock throbbed in my hand and betrayed the arousal he was feeling, even as his ass welted. And then I stopped.

His breath was heavy, and by now my own arousal had grown into a deep throbbing ache. I sat back down into my chair.

"Stand up," I demanded.

He pushed himself up and stood. I could see the pattern of the metal studs imprinted on his ass.

"Turn around."

His cock was deep red and drooling out a creamy line of cum that fell splatting onto the floor when he twitched. He stood fully upright and tried to hold still, yet his cock bounced against his will, and began to drip again. I sat silently, watching another slow sticky line of cum ooze from him, hanging from his tip.

"Okay," I said offhandedly. "You passed the first test."

He shifted and hesitated before responding. "What is my next test, ma'am?"

I grinned. "You made a bold statement, can you back it up?" I spread apart my knees and slid down in my chair. "Show me."

His eyes, previously locked on mine, now ran to the space between my thighs. "Yes ma'am," he said, falling onto his knees.

He took a quick lick and my breath caught. Another soft lick followed and I felt myself clinch up with an ache for more. Throwing my legs over his shoulders, I reached down and pulled his head toward me. I felt his mouth wrap around my inner lips, sucking, tongue flicking patiently, exploring, teasing. My body was on fire.

"Make me cum!" I demanded, squeezing my thighs around his head.

His tongue moved to my clit, swirling and licking, his lips encircled, and I laid back in my chair, screaming out in orgasmic bliss. I was still riding that wave when he stood up.

"Is it time for the next test, ma'am?" he asked.

"Yes, do your best," I replied, looking at his gorgeous cock. "Fuck me, but don't cum." I reached out and caressed his balls.

He moaned, and I watched as he shifted his feet, his dick was an angry shade of red now, his sack pulled up high. "Please let me cum ma'am," he implored.

Despite my state of desire... hunger, he had more to prove.

"No, not until I say you can." I responded. "Fuck me now."

He grabbed my legs and dove into me. That first thrust sent a shockwave. "More!" I demanded.

He fucked me like an animal, and as I reached around and grabbed his ass I could still feel the heat emanating from the spanking he'd endured. I came again, and again, my juices smacking us both.

"Stop!" I said sternly, pushing him back.

He stepped away.

"Sit down," I said, pointing to the chair he'd been in at the start of the conversation.

"Please, ma'am, haven't I proven myself?" he asked. "I need to cum."

"No. Sit." I replied.

He sat down and his hand immediately went to his cock.

"Stop that," I said. "If you are going to work for me, you serve me. Do you understand?"

I watched as he moved his hand to the armrest and looked at the wetness on the floor, my juices, the evidence of his skill. But I was sitting again with composure, skirt back in place, legs crossed. And he sat naked, cock raging, balls throbbing for release.

"Yes Mistress."

"So your final test, let me watch you cum," I stated.

His face showed confusion.

"I'll make it clear for you. Grab that cum soaked cock and finish yourself, I want to watch you shoot."

He stared at me, then looked down at his now purplish cock, then back at me.

"You want me to cum while you watch?" he asked.

"Yes." I replied. "I want to see what you have in there."

"Will I have to do this with clients... if I take the job?" he asked.

"That will be for me to determine," I replied. "Do it, or leave."

He looked down at his crotch. His cock dripped, his balls ached.

"Please," he said, almost whimpering.

I laughed. "Please what?"

"I need to..." his voice trailed off. His gaze was fixed on his shaft.

"What?" I asked.

"I need to cum so badly, but..."

"What is your problem?"

His eyes met mine. "You'll be watching."

"Yes, every twitch in your body, every expression on your face, and I'll hear every sound you make."

"I'm not sure I can," he said, his hand moving back and forth from his cock to the arm of the chair.

"Do it or leave. Don't waste my time," I responded.

"But I need this job..." his voice trailed off.

"Then show me."

He began to stroke, hesitantly at first, then getting lost in the urgent need he felt for relief. I watched him as he watched me, looking at him, examining him, seeing his body tense up, seeing the expressions on his face as he struggled between his desire for release and his hesitancy to let go and spew his load under my watchful eyes.

I got up and leaned toward him. "Cum for me," I whispered. "Show me what you've got." I cupped his balls and tugged them.

And then with a moan he began to cum, loads shooting from his cock, moaning, his legs kicked out and toes upturned, and it was exquisite.

When he had squeezed out all of his load, he sat there, naked, covered in cum, heaving.

"Okay, you're hired."