Permanent Changes
Chapter Three: The Ideal Candidate
Sarah Kent was always nervous at interviews. She had been to dozens in her lifetime, starting when she was looking for a university during high school. Since then, she had interviewed for internships and full-time jobs at some of the nation’s top companies, but never once was she not nervous. She prided herself on being able to hide that nervousness, but it was there always, needling at her.
Her friends were never able to fully understand her seeming lack of confidence. She was smart and beautiful, they’d say, and look at all she had accomplished. She should be, if not cocky and arrogant, at least completely self-assured. What Sarah was not able to tell them was the epiphany she had as a teenager.
Smart enough to be truly introspective, at 16 Sarah realized something about herself. After being dumped by a boyfriend she had undergone a serious bout of depression. She contemplated suicide and even had a bottle of sleeping pills she planned to take but decided against. She felt so weak and vulnerable during that time. Her friends and parents tried to counsel her in their usual way, but by telling her she had no reason to be depressed, Sarah’s depression worsened.
The day after her darkest moment-the day after she had bought the pills-she finally understood why she felt so terrible about herself. Sarah felt that way because it motivated her. She was able to keep herself looking perfect and getting straight As because she was so terrified that she was only average. At that point she decided not to fight her insecurity, but to really use it in order to achieve great things.
It had carried her through to college and to this, the latest in a string of job interviews. It was for a job similar to her current one, but it paid more. She realized the interviewer was waiting for a response and she had missed the question, lost in her own thoughts.
“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” she asked.
The interviewer was a small man with dark hair slicked back. He wore a nice shirt and tie and his jacket was hanging from the door of the motel room where they were holding the interview. “Certainly, Sarah,” he said. “You do not mind if I call you Sarah instead of Ms. Kent, do you?”
She smiled and shook her head.
“Good,” Henry said. “We are fairly informal here. The question I asked, Sarah, was if you are very motivated. We need somebody here who is very self-confident and able to be a leader.”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes, Mr. Eckerson,” she started.
“Please, call me Henry.”
“Of course, Henry. Yes I am very driven. I think you will see from my resume that I have led teams in the past and in college I was the head of several successful projects.”
“That is good, Sarah.” He looked at her and she shuddered. His steel blue eyes seemed to see right through her. “Because I was afraid that deep down, you might be nothing more than a scared little girl.”
His words were delivered without emotion and they had a sharp edge of dispassionate cruelty that cut her deeply. “That’s, that’s not true.”
Henry stood up and he seemed to dominate the room. She was still on the bed, leaning backwards. He towered over her as he brought his face less than a breath from hers. “I think it is, Sarah. I think you are a terrified little girl who could never be capable of leading others.” Drinking in her fear, he snatched something from her mind. “In fact, I think the only reason anyone would ever hire you is for your body.”
It was a deep fear of the young woman. She was naturally attractive, but being gorgeous took work and she did it. Nights at the gym, time spent each morning on her hair and makeup, eating properly. All of it was so she could look her best. She liked being gorgeous and didn’t always mind the looks from men-it hinged largely on which man in particular was doing the looking-and she had told herself that a woman could be both smart and beautiful without a contradiction. But she worried that nobody saw anything but a pair of tits and a nice ass.
“I’m very accomplished,” she said.
“Maybe in the sack.” Henry sat down again. “Tell me how much of a slut you are.”
This was not normal interviewing procedure, Sarah realized. She tried to think but her head felt stuffed full of cotton. The compulsion to answer was extraordinary. “I’m not a slut.”
Henry rolled his eyes. “Then why are you dressed like one? Why the microskirt and slut shoes?”
Sarah looked down at herself and as she brought her hands up fell backwards onto the bed. When had she dressed like this? Something was wrong, she thought, and then he was on top of her.
“You are a slut,” he said. “Which is why you are wearing this outfit. And it is why you are becoming aroused right now.” The commands he had given her earlier had held. At his touch, her skin became flushed and her breathing a little more shallow. His hand was between her legs, up the skirt and teasing her through her soft panties. She moaned slightly.
“Do you often dress up like this for your boyfriends?” he asked.
“Sometimes...” Sarah trailed off. Thinking was difficult-oh! One of Henry’s finger’s had slipped beneath the underwear.
“Do you have a boyfriend now?”
“No...”
“Why not?”
“I’m, oh, oh, I’m busy.”
“Busy doing what? Picking up guys at bars?”
“No, busy work-ah!” He slipped a finger inside of her.
He ran his tongue up and down her earlobe as he whispered. “Have you been fucked lately?”
“A couple of weeks ago,” she said.
“I thought you did not have a boyfriend.”
“We just went out a few times. Oh, that feels so good.”
“I know it does, my little fuckdoll,” Henry said. Something in his voice made her twinge a bit. He nibbled her neck and she forgot about it. “You fucked a man you had only just met? That sounds like something a slut would do.”
“I’m not...”
“Oh yes you are. Sluts have sex with strange men, do they not?”
She was so turned on, but something was equally wrong. “Wait, stop.”
He shook his head. “If you answer me, I will let you come. Obedience is pleasure. Sluts fuck strange men, do they not?”
She nodded. “And you fucked a man you just met?”
A nod again. “Why? Because you like sex? You like getting laid?”
“Of course.”
“Sounds like you are a slut to me. Tell me, do you like giving head?”
“Sometimes,” she panted.
“Do you want to go down on me?”
Sarah thought about it. She didn’t like this man who was on top of her, but he liked the way he rubbed her clit with his thumb. “No...”
“If you give me a blowjob, I will let you come,” he said.
Though she was more aroused than she had ever been, Sarah’s head was clearing. Henry knew the fantasy world he had built for her about the job interview was wearing off. She knew had to fight this strange man. “No.”
“Stay still,” he said. He knelt before the before and buried his face in her lap. Physically perfect in every regard, she was shaved except for a small trimmed patch. He savored her scent and moved her underwear to the side with his hand. She was quite wet and Henry loved her taste as he began licking her, running his tongue up and down her folds. Slowly at first, then with more speed and force. He penetrated her with his tongue, then sucked gently on her clit as he massaged it with her tongue.
“You cannot come no matter how turned on you are until you give me a blowjob,” he said before returning to work.
Sarah laid there in ecstasy. Henry was an expert at everything he did, and cunnlingus was something he took a special pride in. As the minutes ticked by she felt her orgasm building but not coming. It was maddening.
“If you want to come, give me a blowjob,” he said again and she leaped up. He stood up and she undid his trousers quickly. He sat in the chair as she grabbed his erect member and popped it in her mouth.
Sarah bobbed up and down on him quickly. “Slow down,” he said. “I will only repay the favor if you make me come. And, as someone who has had my share of blowjobs, I must say that your fellatio technique leaves a lot to be desired.”
The direct command penetrated her fogged mind and she slowed. She took her time, swirling her tongue around his head and up and down and his shaft. She tickled his balls with a hand and he breathed deeply. She was a vision, dressed in the tiny business outfit as she knelt on the floor. He reached down and cupped her tits, hard, enjoying their feel through the fabric of the sweater. She moaned.
When he was at the brink of orgasm, he told her to stop for a moment. He stood up and had her remove the little sweater. He got his first look at her naked breasts and it took his breath away for a moment. He stood still in his shirt and tie, his pants around his ankles and his boxer shorts still on.
“Realize what you are doing, Sarah,” he said. “But do not get any less turned on.”
And like that much of the fog in Sarah’s mind lifted. She was not a job applicant but a victim of kidnapping and something not far from rape. “You bastard,” she said between breaths.
Henry smiled. “Our deal stands. If you want to reach orgasm, you will jerk me off and I will come all over your magnificent tits.”
She shook her head. “No, you pervert.”
“Did I mention that with each passing second you become even more and more aroused?”
Unlike the bathroom, when she had been able to hold out for minutes over his command that she become colder, she gave in instantly. She was so aroused to begin with she couldn’t take much more. Hating herself, she reached a perfectly manicured hand up to his shaft and began pumping.
“Ah, yes, that is quite nice,” he said. “Be sure and stick out your chest.”
A few more minutes and he tensed up, steadying himself on her shoulders. He came violently. Her chest was covered in his seed.
“Lick it up,” he said. It was a direct command and so she obeyed. He delighted in watching her use her fingers and tongue in such a way that she was obviously repulsed by.
When she had finished she spoke. “We had a deal.”
Henry smiled his toothy smile. “I am a man of my word, dear Sarah. You may get yourself off with your hand.”
She immediately reached inside her panties, using her fingers expertly.
“Oh, one more thing,” he said. “You will come only after you have said the phrase ‘Obedience is pleasure,’ three times.”
Sarah glared at him and he just smiled back. She seemed as about to cry. “Obedience is pleasure,” she said and she felt herself getting closer. “Obedience is pleasure,” her breathing ragged, the breaths coming faster and faster. “Obedience is pleasure-ohhhhh!”
She came screaming and Henry remembered the commands against shouting had likely lost their hold. It was midnight and he was mentally exhausted. “Get undressed and into bed,” he told Sarah, and he helped her with both tasks. She was tired and compliant and slipped naked into the sheets.
“You are going to sleep now,” he said into her ear. “But first let me tell you about the dreams you will have.”