The Interview

Resume in hand, I walk into your office. You close the door and tell me to have a seat. After a few questions about the hours I am available to work, you begin to tell me about the issues you had with your previous secretary.

“She was a complete slut,” you say. “I caught her with the mailman in the supply closet. She was always turning in work late, never got my coffee right and on top of that she spent most of the work day looking at porn on the office computer!”

“That’s terribly unprofessional,” I reply. Inside I am thinking she and I must have a lot in common, as these are all things I would do. Now that I know you don’t approve, I will have to be cautious about my “extra activities” while I’m at work.

“If I hire you, there wouldn’t be any of that going on, would there?” you ask. There is a look in your eyes that is just a little bit worrisome. I really need this job, so I quickly reassure you that I would never do such things.

“Good. That is good to hear. You wouldn’t object to proving that you are not a complete slut, would you?” I don’t know what to say. How would I prove something like that? “Of course not,” is my automatic response. I really need this job and hope that is the right thing to say.

You pull a wooden chair over to your desk, then reach into your desk drawer and remove something. After a few moments you place one of the biggest dildos I have ever seen onto the hard wooden seat of the chair. It has a suction cup base and stands up firmly, covered in a thick lube. You must have been lubing it up behind your desk. My eyes fly up to yours in shock, but I say nothing. I am speechless.

“I’ve given it a lot of thought and this is the method I have chosen to weed out the sluts that apply for this job. You are to sit down on this chair, fully sit down, and I will gauge your response to that monster. A slut will enjoy it, while a proper secretary will not.”

My mouth opens in surprise, shocked to my core that this is happening. I can feel myself getting wet and know that I might not pass this test. “I can’t do that!” I hear myself say, still staring at the massive dildo suctioned to the chair.

“Then I can’t hire you. I’ve wasted too much time hiring and training sluts. They are a distraction and I simply will not go through that with another new hire. You will demonstrate right here and now, that you are not a complete slut. If you will not prove it then get out”.

My heart is beating erratically, and I can’t seem to decide if I should be horrified or very turned on. It feels like a wicked combination of both. I think about my options, think about how badly I need this job, then say “Yes, sir”.

I slowly stand up then walk over to the wooden chair. Thank goodness I wore a skirt today, I think to myself. I reach down and grab two handfuls of my blue, ankle length skirt. I raise the back of it, making sure that you can’t see, and lower my panties. I am soaking wet now and dreading this test. Hopefully I can manage not to cum all over the monster size dildo you have presented for this test. That certainly wouldn’t get me hired.

Positioning myself over the chair, I hold my skirt out of the way and slowly begin to lower myself onto the huge dildo. I am embarrassed to be doing this but excited beyond belief. It takes some concentration to place the head of the huge dildo at my pussy, keep my balance and still stay covered with the skirt but I manage to do it.

Glancing up I check your face, certain that you will call this off. No suck luck. As I start to slide myself down onto the dildo it takes all of my willpower not to moan out loud. There are not many things that turn me on more than being stretched open by a huge cock. I can feel my clit throbbing, aching to be rubbed. It would make this experience easier if I could finger myself, but that would probably have me fail the test. I start to squirm as I feel the head flare out. A rush of heat licks over me as I press down even more. It stings a little, but that is part of the excitement. I am trying not to pant as I push down. It is going to take a firm push to get the ultra thick head past my pussy lips, so I brace myself and shove. As I feel the monster invade my tight pussy I can’t help but gasp. I am panting audibly now, breasts rising and falling with my breathing. I am past full, painfully stretched open by a dildo that is as hard as it is huge. I close my eyes as I try to push down and take the rest of it inside. Inch by inch I sink down. At the halfway point it stops being a painful experience and starts to feel incredibly good. Another inch down and I moan loudly, biting my lip to stop any more sounds from coming out. Finally I feel the hard wood of the chair touch my ass cheeks. I am almost there, just a little more and I’ll have this job.

For a minute I don’t know if I can take it all in, but I manage to slide down so that my ass is firmly on the chair bottom, feet flat on the floor. My face is flushed and I am breathing a little harder than usual, but over all I think that I am rather composed. What I want to do is slide up and down on the huge dildo that is splitting me open, but I make myself stay very still.

“Do I pass?” I ask, looking at you hopefully.

“No,” you say.

“What, I don’t understand! I did exactly what you asked me to do,” I shout.

“You enjoyed it, which proves that you are a slut. There is no way that I would hire you”.

“Wait, please, I really need this job. Isn’t there something, anything I could do that would get me hired?”

You look at me for a minute, then nod you head. “You are without a doubt a complete slut. However, I am willing to take you on if you agree to accept disciplinary action when you fail to meet company standards”.

Disciplinary action? I imagine write ups, pay cuts and training seminars. Any and all of that will be ok, as long as it gets me the job.

“Yes, I will accept any disciplinary action that you see fit”, I reply. You reach into another desk drawer, remove something as say “Unbutton your shirt”. I reach up to the buttons, thinking what the heck I’m already sitting here on a giant cock. You stand up as I finish the last button. In your hands is a leather strap, black and as long as your arm.

“Take off your bra”, you instruct me. I can’t stop staring at the strap, sudden clarity coming to the term “disciplinary action”. “What are you going to do to me?” I ask.

“You said that you would accept any disciplinary action I felt necessary. You failed the test I set, proved that you are a complete slut and yet still want me to hire you. Disciplinary action is necessary. If you refuse you will be fired”.

“Fired? Does that mean I have the job?” I ask, eyeing the strap with dread.
“Yes, you have the job. Now remove your bra”.

I reach behind me to unhook my bra, afraid of the strap but so excited to be hired. The bra drops to the floor. You move behind me and tell me to put my arms behind my back. I feel the click of cuffs being locked around my wrists. What have I gotten myself into?

“Open your mouth”. I open my mouth, to aroused to protest. You insert a ball gag and proceed to lock it in place behind my head. As you move in front of me once more, I raise my eyes to yours. “Only a slut would stare at someone when she has her breasts exposed. Keep your eyes down”. I quickly lower my eyes, knowing somehow that whatever you have in mind I just made it worse by looking at you.

I hear the strap move through the air just before it makes contact with my left breast. It makes a sharp smacking sound as it hits, leaving a pink mark in its wake. I cry out behind the gag and look up at you in shock. “Your eyes, slut. That just earned you six extra lashes”. I stare at the floor, panicked that there will be more lashes and terrified of what will happen if I come before you are finished. My pussy is throbbing, dripping
onto the seat of the chair. I ache from being stretched so wide, my nipples are rock hard and my clit is begging to be
sucked. I know this is supposed to be a discipline but I can’t help being turned on. You continue whipping my breasts then turn your attention specifically to my nipples. After twenty strokes you stop, then take out a riding crop from your desk. Six times you raise the crop and six times you whip my nipples, counting as you go, with three for the left then three for the right. It is all I can do not to cum as I scream into the ball gag.

After it is over you return the strap and the riding crop to your desk. The gag is removed and the cuffs unlocked. “Get dressed”, you tell me. I start to get up from the chair only to feel your hand on my shoulder. “I said get dressed, not get up”.

Reaching my bra and shirt on the floor while sitting on the dildo is difficult, but I manage. After I am again dressed you begin talking about what will be expected of me as your secretary. I try not to squirm as you talk, aware that I am getting your chair very wet.

“You start tomorrow”, you say. “Get up now”. I start to slide myself off of the monster dildo still jammed up in my pussy. I almost make it without an orgasm, but halfway up it hits me. My pussy contracts around the hard dildo in waves, making me moan and gasp. You shoot up from you desk. “Get over here, slut. Obviously you will need to be disciplined more harshly”.

I finish sliding off of the dildo, and orgasm once more as the head pops through my aching pussy lips. You instruct me to bend over your desk. I feel my skirt being lifted over my ass. You tell me to spread my legs. “Wider”, you tell me. When my feet touch the legs of your desk you tell me that it wide enough. You walk around the desk, reach into that drawer again. When you are behind me once again I feel a slight pressure at my ass. You tell me that this disciplinary action will have to be firmer than the first, as orgasm at work is against company policy. You slide a thick plug into my tight asshole. I gasp and jerk, but it goes in smoothly due to the thick lube you coated it with. The gag is once again placed in my mouth. My hands are cuffed behind my back, while my ankles are locked to the legs of your desk. You proceed to whip my ass and thighs with the strap, turning my bottom bright pink. I am sobbing into the gag, but my pussy is still dripping wet. You place the strap on the desk next to my head. I think you are finished when the first sting of the riding crop hits my pussy. You precisely land each stroke on my dripping pussy lips. I am desperate for you to land one on my clit, because I am so close to orgasm that would send me over. You do and I manage to disguise my moan of pleasure as a sound of pain.

After I am released and fully dressed, you tell me “10 a.m. sharp tomorrow”.