The Interview, An Excerpt By Silk Jones

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Laura smoothed her jacket and stepped carefully through the door into the offices of Dunbar and Associates in her four inch platform pumps.

It looked like the reception area of any other law firm to her. The receptionist manning the sleek black desk, however, could have been a model. Her ash blonde hair fell in thick luscious waves to her shoulders and were set off by high cheekbones and magnificent green eyes. Even though she was seated, Laura could see she had a slim, elegant build molded beautifully in a body skimming red dress.

She thought about her own too generous curves threatening to spill out of the black form fitting jacket and pencil skirt and wondered if she should have worn something else. Like what? What did one wear to an interview for a submissive legal assistant position? Lingerie? She almost giggled.

The receptionist looked up and flashed a friendly smile. “May I help you?”

Laura cleared her throat. “Yes. My name is Laura Hobbs. I have a 10:30 appointment with Mr. Dunbar.”

“Just a moment.” The receptionist clicked a few buttons. “Sir,” she said after a moment.

“There’s a Ms. Laura Hobbs here to see you.” She paused. “Yes, Sir.” She tapped her earpiece and looked up at Laura. “You’re to have a seat. He’ll be right with you.” She gestured to the seating area across the room.

Laura chose a stiff backed leather chair. She crossed her legs and admired her patterned stockings. They were actual stockings with a garter belt and all -- not the pantyhose she normally wore. They made her feel a little naughty.

After she and her boss had been laid off from the law firm at which she had worked for
the past ten years, she’d found herself at loose ends. The firm’s generous severance package afforded her the opportunity to take a little time before looking for another job.

She’d used that time to take a good hard look at her life such as it was. The long hours at the firm and the night classes she took at a local college towards her accounting degree had left little time for a social life. She hadn’t gone out on a date in over a year. She hadn’t seen the point. The guys she met were just boring. Where were the real men?

The last guy she dated had taken forever to kiss her. Three dates in fact. When he finally did, it was pathetically awkward and tentative. He’d even asked permission first.

What a turn-off. That was the last time she went out with him.

She liked alpha men who took charge -- especially in bed. She wanted to be swept off her feet. Screwed senseless. Overwhelmed. That’s how she’d wound up here -- in the reception area of Dunbar and Associates.

She’d spent a lot of her free time catching up on her reading. She’d always enjoyed reading erotica and now it was readily available for her to download. She read a series detailing a young submissive’s training exploits that had intrigued her. Hell, the book had more than intrigued her. It made her hot. So hot she’d gone online and researched B.D.S.M. The more she had researched, the more intrigued she had become.

She’d always enjoyed dominant lovers who took what they wanted once they had her general consent. She’d even enjoyed being tied up and blindfolded. Did that make her a submissive?

During the course of her research, she’d run across an ad for a submissive legal assistant on a B.D.S.M. website. It had taken her by surprise. She’d never known such positions existed. She’d wondered what sort of duties the position entailed. Fantasizing about the possibilities had titillated her.

The ad didn’t go into much detail. It just said that the dominant head of a downtown law firm sought an experienced submissive legal secretary. After much internal debate, curiosity caused her to apply online. She followed the instructions to upload a full body photo and her resume and had received a call the very next day from the human resources manager to schedule an interview. The woman had been all business. They could have been discussing a position at any law firm.

She’d pulled up the law firm’s website and searched the Internet for pictures of and information about the head of the law firm -- Philip Dunbar. His picture on the firm’s website depicted a ruggedly handsome man with dark hair, a strong jaw, a serious smile and power radiating from his dark eyes. Just looking at the picture caused a response deep in the pit of her stomach. She’d spent the last few days and nights fantasizing about what it would be like to work under him in every sense of the word. To be at his mercy.

What would the interview be like? Would he ask her questions and then send her on her way? Would he test her in some way? Her mouth went bone dry at the thought. She licked her lips. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. She must have been out of her mind to respond to an ad posted on a B.D.S.M. website. For all she knew, it could be a hoax. Or worse, she could be setting herself up to be raped. She had to get out of here. She stood up, turned toward the reception desk and stopped in her tracks. Phillip Dunbar stood next to the desk, his arms crossed, watching her.