need a fresh start? want a transformation? looking for adventure? woman needed for long-term bdsm contract work. training, educational costs, room and board for duration of contract. adequate time for study guaranteed. apply in person at 352 w ranch hwy. be prepared for rigorous interview and negotiation session. employment will begin immediately upon signing contract. change your life! serious applicants only.
Kay couldn’t believe what she was doing. She’d been swinging from, “No way!” to “Hell yeah!,” with a steadily rising frequency since the night she’d found the advertisement. Now, her mind was sprint swimming between the two, resting occasionally on the only solid thought, “I have nothing to lose.”
With a loose, trembling fist, Kay raised her hand but stopped before knocking on the door. In her hesitancy, the Master indulged in His first perceptions of her.
Long lashes framed large, dusky eyes, wide and dilated. A thin grimace stretched her lips to their limit and bared her bright and clenched teeth.
Kay’s hair, too black to be natural, fell in lackadaisical waves around an oval face. Excessive makeup, amateurishly applied, nonetheless flattered her full and rich features. She was shorter than average and softly muscular. A tasteful, knee-length, black dress utterly failed to conceal her strong, healthy curves.
The Master listened closely to her chest. Short, shallow breaths fluttered in time with the pounding of her heart.
Kay was stunning. And the Master found Himself waiting in unbecoming suspense for her to consummate the knock. Embarrassed, He steeled His resolve to be cold and objective. “You’re thinking about whether you’ll take My offer,” He forcefully reminded himself, “But the real question is whether I’ll take yours.”
She’d need to be much more than beautiful. She’d need to possess quickness and clarity of thought, poise under pressure and, above all else, intelligence. The Master had little interest in mediocre minds. He required someone extraordinary.
Knock. Knock.
The door opened silently, and Kay’s breath froze in her throat. There was no one there. An empty hallway with dark gray flagstone on the ceiling, floor and walls 一 a tunnel of rock 一 extended forward into pitch-black. This is the first real impression of the Master a candidate gets, and He savored the effect that this had on her.
Regaining herself, Kay took a long look back at the world outside, at the light and life as she knew it. The street outside beckoned, and Kay hesitated again. For a horrible moment, The Master thought that she might leave.
Kay’s desperation kept her there. She’d convinced herself that it was the only reason she was here in the first place, but an undeniable tingle from her deep core reminded her of the other reason. This would solve all of her problems … and yes … even that one.
Kay felt the gravity of the dark. “Gravity or grave … or both?,” she wondered to herself as she let the draw of the void take her. With a set jaw, a straightened back and a brittle look of confidence, Kay allowed the heavy door to close behind her and walked forward down the hall.
Into the dark.
Towards Him.
By design, the entrance hall was absolutely silent. The only sounds Kay heard were her own breath, the resonant echo of her heels on the stone and the throbbing pulse in her chest. A few moments of blind stumbling later, she approached the stairway, and the Master turned on a single light at the foot of the stairs, two stories down.
The light hit Kay from unexpected angles. She jolted, but less than last time. Realizing that it was coming from the floor, she slowly approached the stairwell.
Pausing at the top and peering down, she strained for a glimpse of what was waiting below. All she could see was more stone barely illuminated by the light of a single unshaded bulb.
At that perfect moment, one of the ice sculptures sounded in a way that pleased the Master. He opened a feed to hidden speakers at the foot of the stairs. A soft, gasping moan rose to Kay from below, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. With a blush that she hoped was hidden by the dark, Kay glanced furtively around. Then, she took a deep breath and climbed down the stairs.
From the bottom, it was only twenty more steps to the door. Kay walked to it and opened it. The first thing she saw was her own face, eyes wide and mouth agape.
The room was large. The floor, ceiling and three of the walls were constructed of the same dead flagstone. In the center of the room was a small, stainless steel desk. On the desk was a pen and a short, neat stack of papers. The chair faced a massive high definition screen, which displayed a close-up of Kay’s own face.
She recognized the video feed from a hidden camera. “Clever,” Kay thought to herself, but she was undeniably awed.
The second thing Kay saw were the ice sculptures. There were two of them framing the video display. Each was composed of a living, flesh and blood woman, nude with a shiny, stainless steel collar tight around her neck, a black rubber ball gag in her mouth, and steel cuffs at her wrists and elbows holding her arms behind her back. Each of their collars were attached to the ceiling by two heavy stainless steel chains, one on each side of the head. The chains had just enough slack to allow the woman to stand flat-footed on a large block of ice under her feet.
The one on the left was a statuesque and blond woman, Germanic cheeks undergirding icy blue eyes. Her face was reddened, but her breathing was measured and controlled. The other was Rubenesque with an olive complexion. Dark brown eyes were moist with tears that had just begun to roll down her flushed cheeks.
In lazy sync, the sculptures slowly and rhythmically shifted their weight from one foot to the other. Both stared at her as if silently pleading. A message appeared on the large screen under the image of Kay’s face.
“Sit down.”
As Kay took her seat at the desk, another message appeared.
“Say the following sentence out loud, as clearly and articulately as possible. ‘The beige hue on the waters of the loch impressed all, including the French queen, before she heard that symphony again, just as young Arthur wanted.’”
With an automatic obedience that pleased the Master, Kay read the phonetic pangram. Now He had her voice. He let her sit for a moment with her thoughts while He processed.
Kay’s own uncertain face loomed over her, and the two sculptures whimpered and moaned quietly. She forced herself to slow her breathing and calm herself.
Then the Master launched the digital puppet. The image on the screen was Kay’s, a live video display of herself as she looked around the room. Then, suddenly, it wasn’t. It looked like her face, but it fixed its gaze directly on her and smiled gently. She stared back at it.
The Master spoke his first words to her. Kay’s face. Her mouth. Her voice. His words. “I’m going to interview you. The interview will have two parts. If you sign the contract at the end of our conversation here, then you’ll proceed to the second part. If you don’t sign it, you’ll leave.”
Recovering quickly, Kay nodded, and the Master proceeded. Who was she? How was she brought up? Why had she answered the advertisement? Why was she interested in the job? What was her education? What were her plans going forward? What were her interests in BDSM? What was her experience with BDSM? How did she feel about this?
Kay answered candidly and as honestly as she knew how.
With relieved satisfaction, the Master silently closed the interview, “If I decide to accept you, I’ll pay all of your living expenses. A cover story will be provided to explain this to your family, friends and school. My interest in you is driven by your intellect, by your mind, so you’ll be required to continue your studies. You’ll be given sufficient time for this. Poor academic performance will result in serious punishment.
“In return, you’ll make yourself available to me. I’ll train you. And I’ll use you as I like.
“My proclivities will to a large degree be centered on the things that excite you. I want you aroused when I am with you. There is little more pleasing to me than the enthusiastic submission of an intelligent and accomplished woman.
“The second part of the interview will establish what you like and what you want. You won’t be required to do anything to which you haven’t explicitly consented or that does not unambiguously sexually arouse you.
“You may end our arrangement at any time simply by repeating the phrase, ‘There’s no place like home,’ three times in a row.
“At this point, I suspect you are thinking that this offer is too good to be true. I assure you that this is not the case.”
The on-screen puppet of Kay’s face gazed for a moment towards the sculpture on the right and then towards the one on the left. “Attention!” it snapped. The voice sounded like her, but it was commanding and confident in a way she’d never imagined. The women in the sculptures stiffened to disciplined attention, both feet firmly on the ice.
“You may express yourselves freely. Should Kay accept the offer?”
Their heads shook furiously. Unable to speak clearly through their gags, they were reduced to pleading wails and grunts.
“Enough!” the giant face barked. They immediately stopped trying to communicate, but their begging eyes stayed on her.
“They‘re always a bit hyperbolic. So it’ll be with you, I suspect. But it’s not all bad. They are both quite aroused by all this. I invite you to confirm this for yourself.” The women in the sculptures were indeed visibly aroused. “Go ahead, touch them. They’ll greatly appreciate it.”
Kay crossed the distance to the blonde woman and tentatively raised her hand to the bound woman’s belly.
“Touch her. If she could speak, she would beg you.”
Kay’s fingertips brushed the woman just below the navel. The effect was instant and powerful. The woman’s eyes closed, and she bucked, her chains jingling.
The reaction startled Kay, who snatched her hand back to her chest. Kay’s face and chest flushed hotly, and the tingle in her core intensified into throbbing arousal.
“Touch her again. Hold your hand to her,” the Master commanded.
Kay pressed her palm to the woman’s skin. The woman swooned and gasped. Her breathing quickened, and then she moaned thickly. As she caught her breath, she gazed down at Kay, her eyes glazed.
“The other sculpture would appreciate your attention as well.”
Kay moved quickly across the room and placed her hands on the smooth curves of the second woman’s hips.
The woman rocked back and forth against the collar, her entire body undulating. The woman’s body spasmed and then went rigid as she keened through her ball gag. Catching her breath as the waves subsided, the woman relaxed back onto the ice.
“As you can see, difficult work is not without its rewards,” the Master said through the puppet’s sweet smile. He continued with a kind voice, “Once you sign the contract, you’re subject to my instructions. You’ll obey them to the letter, or you’ll be punished.
“If, at any time, I decide that I am not pleased with you, I will terminate the arrangement. Sign the contract.”
In a slow instant, Kay took the pen, and signed. Now she was the Master’s.
The puppet’s friendly smile turned suddenly cruel, and the screen went black. The Master spoke the next words in a different voice, a low-pitched, rumbling growl with a jagged metallic edge, “Open the drawer in the desk, and take it out.”
Kay’s face blanched at the contents. The device was simple, a mask large enough to fit over her nose and mouth attached to a small black aerosol canister.
“Lay down on the floor in front of the desk. Flat on your back,” the Master ordered.
Kay did as instructed, and the Master let her lie there quietly for a few minutes, mask in hand, sculptures serenading her with the sounds of their discomfort. He let her contemplate and let her fear ripen.
Then, the Master commanded, “Cover your mouth and nose with the mask. Breathe deeply.”
The force of Kay’s inhalation broke the seal on the canister. Before she could exhale, she was unconscious.
Be sure to read Anglerfish 02: The Second Interview!
