The Revenge Interview

I had been working at Lucky Sam's for about three years as a way to put myself through school. Since I came from a pretty humble background as far as upbringing went, I essentially had no choice but to head into the workforce while simultaneously attending the nearby university. Naturally, it had been a long and grueling road spent dealing with all sorts of customers, but it had also taught me something vital: the importance of standing up for myself and others when I inevitably got promoted to management.

Gone was the nerdy girl who had struggled through highschool, and in her place was someone who had a bit more of her shit together. I couldn't say there weren't remnants of that nerd there, but I was definitely more prone to speak my mind...amongst other things.

My promotion happened on a regular Tuesday after my General Manager, Clarissa, allowed me to sit in on an interview with a potential candidate. After the candidate left, Clarissa turned to me with a small smile. In all my time knowing her, I had only ever seen her fully smile at customers, never her staff and certainly not me. As such, I didn't know what to expect from her.

The soft jingle of a Christmas carol playing on the store's sound system was dulled by the door we sat behind, but still a reminder of the shift we had to return to. Nevertheless, Clarissa leaned back in her chair and tapped her nails against her lips thoughtfully before speaking: "Myra," she said, "How long have you been working here?"

"Just about three years now," I said, not questioning why she would ask. She nodded receptively before she printed something from her desktop, and handed it to me. I could tell right away that it was someone's resume, but I couldn't tell why she was letting me see it.

"I want you to interview this person as your first task in your role as Assistant Manager. How do you feel about that?"

I grappled with what she was saying for a second, realizing that it was both a promotion and a duty that she was already assigning. I didn't want to come off as greedy, but I was adamant on knowing how much of a pay increase I would get. I didn't even have to voice that question, though, because Clarissa was already answering it: "If you take this role, you'll see a four-dollar increase in your hourly pay. I've got a list of interview questions for you to ask, and all you have to do is assess this person's character and write down their answers."

"I--well--yes, I'll do it." It was a no-brainer as I was already working full-time as an associate, and interviewing someone would be nothing compared to the barrage of customers demanding constant service.

"Great, the candidate will be here in ten minutes so study that resume and lean on those questions I have there for you. I'm going to go get a coffee, and when I come back I'll watch the floor."

Ten minutes? I was a little disturbed by how quickly Clarissa had just dumped two things on me at once while she happily skipped away for coffee, but that raise would substantially help with paying for school.

With that, I nodded and looked down at the resume she left me with. I only glanced at it at first, but the name there looked familiar enough to generate a pause from me.

Alexa Moore.

It could have been a coincidence, which was exactly what I wrote it off as in order to focus on the contents of the resume, but I had an unsettling feeling that two worlds were about to collide. There wasn't much to work with on her resume besides a one-month stay at another job, and some volunteer experience at a pet shelter nearby, but truthfully the job as a sales associate wasn't something you needed a lot of experience for in the first place.

The ten minutes I had elapsed, but there were at least five additional minutes added to that because Alexa was late. I looked down at the resume again, and realized that there was a high school listed under the "Education" section.

At the same time that I confirmed what I had hoped wasn't true, that this wasn't the Alexa Moore that I knew, I heard a soft rap at the door to the back office.

I hadn't seen her since we graduated, hadn't heard her voice since the last time she was talking about how flat-chested I was (and still happened to be).

But now, I was about to interview her--not as a high school student, but as a potential boss of hers.

As I tucked my dark hair behind my ears and polished my glasses on the hem of my blouse, I stood up and reminded myself that I was in control for once. There was no one here who would vouch for her, no leery teacher to take her side simply because they found her to be attractive, no student body to cheer her on--just her and I, in a compact office space.

I opened the door.

She was prettier than she had been the last time I saw her, I could admit that; she was still a strawberry blonde, she still had freckles, wore large silver hoop earrings and clear lip gloss, but her features had gone from being adolescent to a little more...grown-up. Her lips looked a little fuller, her breasts had definitely gotten bigger, and from what I could see she had lost a good amount of weight in her midsection while her hips had widened to form a thigh gap.

I had wondered if she would recognize me, and of course she didn't. I was just another person who she had bullied in the grand expanse of other nerds she tortured. I wasn't a vengeful person, but her lack of recognition was triggering, considering that a lot of the things she said had taken a while to stop haunting me, and yet she seemed entirely unaffected.

I realized that I had been standing there like a dolt while she pointedly raised her eyebrows in question, so I stuck my hand out for her to shake: "Hi, Alexa?" I chirped brightly, "I'm Myra Alvarez, I'll be conducting your interview today."

She didn't look me up and down like she would have in high school, but there was still a catty glint in her blue eyes that I knew all too well; her thoughts couldn't have been as innocent as her answering smile was as she shook my hand.

"Hi, Myra. Should I just sit down?"

I stepped aside after letting go of her hand, "Yes, yes, come on in and have a seat."

I was still trying to find my footing while navigating Clarissa's office, but my goal was just to pretend to be as at-home as possible. Slowly, I guided myself down into the chair and nervously pulled on the sleeves of my cardigan before I stopped myself.

Alexa, in a sweater dress that she had paired with a cardigan like mine, settled into the chair opposing the desk--and so the interview began.

It was simple: ask the questions, be as unbiased as possible, and send her away with a job or the false hope of one. I could do this.

"So, first of all," I started, then continued: "Thank you for coming in, Alexa. I just want to ask you a few questions based on your past work experience, and go from there."

"Sure," Alexa nodded, still taunting me with her cornflower blue eyes even if it wasn't intentional. It was already hard not to attach bias to the interview, but even harder with her looking at me like that.

Tensely, I shuffled the papers I had in-hand, and continued on to the first question.

"Can you tell me about some of the duties you had at your last place of work?"

She went through the tedious process of pretty much saying exactly what was on her resume word-for-word, which of course, told me that she was still lacking substance.

Typical.

"Okay," I said, "I did pretty much read all of that on your resume, so maybe just tell me about a specific time when you used your knowledge or expertise to help a customer."

"Um...okay."

Alexa sat back in her chair to think it appeared, and giving her some grace, I decided to busy myself by just...looking at her. Her perfect white teeth were clutching her bottom lip, she had never needed braces in her life, her skin was smooth and naturally dewy like she was always fresh from a shower--and speaking of a shower, she smelled like a sweet garden. I surveyed her hair style, how long her blonde tendrils were and the curtain bangs she had which partially hid her eyes...then my eyes traveled down lower to the front of her dress--the hint of milky, plush cleavage that I saw peeking out. The tops of her breasts were just as soft-looking as her face, the kind of thing you wanted to test out by touching just to liberally squeeze it.

"So, there was this one time this older lady was buying a dress for her granddaughter, and I talked her out of buying something her granddaughter definitely wouldn't want."

I nodded, feeling a slight burn of heat at the nape of my neck as I had just been staring at her cleavage, but she seemed unaware. I had only partially heard her response, but I refused to have her repeat it so I moved onto another question.

Question after question, the room was starting to feel smaller, and her answers were increasingly shallow and increasingly harder to take seriously.

Someone could call it unfair, and if I wasn't biased, I would think the same--but I decided to see just how much of a dumbass she really was with a question that wasn't on the paper:

"Alexa, tell me what makes you a good person, something you've done at work, or in high school, something that makes it clear that you're the kind of person we need interacting with our customers."

"I, um--"

"Just something nice you did for someone outside of your friends and family, something that offered you no benefit."

"I...I guess I...in high school I was--"

So, she was going to go with a story from high school. Of course, as that would be the easiest thing for her to get away with lying about.

Little did she know...

I leaned back in my chair, taking another glance at her fat breasts before I brought my eyes back up.

"In high school," she said, "I was...like, everyone liked me."

"Everyone liked you?" I asked innocently, encouragingly, and she nodded: "Yes, I mean everything I said was pretty much taken as law--but not in a bad way."

A lie.

I could feel my right eye twitching.

Unaware, Alexa almost looked whimsical as she recalled what had been the good days for her, and the worst days for me.

"I would...you know...do good things for people, for teachers."

"Oh, like what?"

"I--"

She floundered, and somehow I had ventured to think that she wouldn't bomb her interview under pressure--but she was opening and closing her mouth like a fish.

I was leading with my feelings now, deciding to submerge her in even more of a fire pit.

"Alexa," I said softly, "I'll bet that you weren't a good person in high school based on your responses, and maybe you still aren't a good person."

Alexa, with blue-eyed shock, stared at me.

I leaned forward again, pressing my elbows into the table while I cupped my face in my hands. I could feel the rage in my chest, building into a slow, diabolical plan that would please me in more than one way.

"You see, I know this because you bullied me in high school. You, on multiple occasions, body-shamed me, you talked about my clothes, you know...just about anything that wasn't up to your standard you ridiculed. You...made high school hell for me."

She didn't say anything, but her eyes were searching my face now, trying to see who I was. I stood up, feeling the rage cloud my judgment of proper conduct--keeping the sick plan I had in mind. How long would it be before Clarissa came to check on us? How much time did I have to wreak havoc?

I completely stopped thinking then, and went to stand behind Alexa's chair. From my vantage point, I could see straight down her shirt at her heaving breasts, straining against her shirt.

I reached down, and Alexa jumped at the sight of my descending hand. I expected that though, so her bodily reaction didn't stop me.

"What the fuck are you doing?" She asked, abandoning the nice-girl facade she tried to present during her interview. I guess anyone would if my hand was creeping underneath their shirt without permission, but I didn't pay her any mind. Instead, I brought my mouth to her triple-pierced ear and whispered something sinful: "You know exactly what I'm doing," I said, strolling my hands down into her bra. Her nipple responded to my fingers as I tweaked it irresponsibly, rolling the pebbled bud. I could just about make out the bare, dusky pink hue of her areolae and the slightly darker tone of her actual nipples. It's a beautifully taboo thing to see during an interview.

"Stop it," she protested, "I know who you are now..."

"No," I said against her supple ear, "You know who I was, and that girl isn't here anymore."

The juxtaposition of the Christmas jingles blasting from the sales floor and the warmth of Alexa's full breasts spilling into my palms is filling a void I didn't think I still had. Alexa was clearly embarrassed by my touching, but I was eager to find out if she was also turned on too. I roughly palmed her smooth breasts a few times, squeezing and pulling at her tender nipples while her breath rasped out of her.

"You sound like a horny little bitch breathing like that..." I whispered, "I did hear that you fucked half the senior class when we were in tenth grade, so maybe there's some truth to that."

Alexa's head fell back, exposing her blushing neck, but she negated what I was saying: "I didn't fuck all of them."

I pinched her nipples, "I didn't say all of them, I said some."

"I didn't--"

I rolled my tongue around her neck nastily, silencing the slut.

"I know what'll tell me just how much of a skanky bitch you are: open your legs, or the job goes to the next candidate."

"W-what, I don't need this job that bad."

I shrugged, taking my hands out of her shirt and stepping back. I was willing to call her bluff on that one, even if I had a small bit of doubt.

Would this work?

It was beyond revenge now, there was lust there too. Just feeling her breasts had given me a taste of something I wanted more of, and stopping was so far away.

Unless she really didn't need this job.

I wrapped my hand around the doorknob to the office, enacting the final test as I turned around to look at her in that chair.

The look on her face already was gloriously embarrassed, she hadn't even attempted to get up, and her eyes, which normally bored into anyone's that looked her way, were downcast.

Perfect.

"When I open this door, you can consider yourself dismissed," I said, even while knowing that what I was doing went against every workplace code there was, but also knowing that Alexa wouldn't bring up that code because she had never followed the rules herself.

As I started to twist the doorknob, I saw her legs fall open weakly from my peripheral. I let go of the doorknob, and turned around with a smile.

"Wow, you really need this job." I laughed softly, knowing that I was only adding more shame to her reluctant submission.

"For someone who talks so much shit..." I said as I walked closer, "Your pussy better feel like gold."

She seemed truly past speaking then, but her legs remained open. I could see that her panties were black, just barely covering her mound--in fact, one of her tanned, bald pussy lips was peeking out of her underwear already.

My nerves had caused my palms to moisten, also something that Alexa made fun of once when I had to pass a paper down in English class and her hand grazed mine; she had loudly stated her disgust to our classmates, and for the rest of the year people would call dramatically recoil away from my hands if they even came close to theirs.

Using that memory as fuel, I kneeled down in front of Alexa and coiled my hands around her waist. I could feel her breath puffing out of her, representing the nerves she must have been feeling as well.

"I don't plan on tasting your nasty little pussy today," I said, "But, I do want to touch it..."

Nothing from her end, but her thighs were unstable when I pulled at her panties. I could feel her warm thighs knocking against my hand as they struggled to stay open, but I still managed to get her panties completely out of the way--baring her pussy to my eyes.

Oh, she was wet alright--she was drenched. Her pink pussy was glazed and reflective, I could see her tight little hole clutching around the air desperately.

"Looks like you're used to having a cock up there when you're this horny," I mused, using both of my hands to spread her apart. My fingertips were immediately sticky, pushing against squishy, wet warmth. I wanted to finger the gasping little whore, so I did.

"These should be nothing to you," I said, before taking two of my nimble fingers and twisting them up into her. She jerked against the chair, with something strangled belting from her lips before I started to fuck her with those two digits.

"You're so squirmy," I teased breathily, "Don't act like you're a virgin now."

I could see her eyes glaring down at me now, but there was also a begging quality within them; that look informed me that I was in the clear, but Clarissa would be coming back soon, and my fingers weren't squishing into her quick enough.

I fucked her with my fingers faster, "So, basically anyone can fuck you if they have something you want. Wow, you really are a disgusting little slut...I actually gave you too much credit at first."

She could only answer in moans by then, her pussy had locked around my digits like a vice, and I was horny enough that I had started to rock myself against the chair leg, feeling the cold metal press against the seams of my pants pleasurably. I just needed stimulation, anything.

I could feel Alexa breaking open like a well the harder that I shoved my fingers into her, and she had since leaned back and allowed herself to moan a little louder--girlishly soft moans that made me feel like a vixen. She was shivering too, her whole body was, and I used my other hand to give her slick, evasive clitoris a mean little toggling. She started to really lose it then, her hips were arching, her slutty breasts pushed forward, and she covered her own mouth as she sobbed.

Seeing her freckled face break open into that pitifully sexy cry of pleasure was enough to send me over the edge too; I rubbed my soaked cunt against the chair leg one more time, feeling that almost painful ache, like having to pee unbearably, before my eyes crossed with the sweet pleasure that swirled through my achy body.

Alexa and I came down from our orgasms simultaneously, and both having the right idea, we immediately fixed our clothes.

I seemed to have the universe's timing on my side because just as I was sitting back at Clarissa's desk, the door opened and she peeked her head into the office.

"Hey, it's getting a little busy out here so I'll need you on the floor soon. How's it going?"

I smiled as I looked over at the blushing girl whose torment over me had finally been washed away, and then looked back at my boss.

"I say she's hired, seems like a good fit."

I could feel Alexa staring at me, but she didn't object.

"Then hired she is," Clarissa said, "Now, I'll do the paperwork with her and you take the floor."

And so it was, but as I headed back out onto the floor, I knew there wasn't a single shitty customer that could bring me down from the high that I was feeling.

And things were only going to get better.