This is an old story, which was posted on one long chunk, and doesn’t get much attention. Since I’m finally writing a sequel, I thought I’d repost it in readable chunks and with new, AI produced images. I’m not carrying votes forward for this one.
We lurked near the lobby until we saw Veronica and Ms M, our American recruiter; we were both suddenly shy, and crept up cautiously. It became clear that there were four girls altogether - two from other parts of the building were coming towards M as well, one of whom I had noticed in the beauticians, although I didn’t know her. The other must have come direct from work, judging by her outfit. We became even shyer. Had they been put the same question? It was impossible to know, and impossible to ask them. They were both young and very pretty, with well-developed figures. It seemed the Founder had no time for flat-chested girls.
Picture: Another candidate
Men were looking at us - men I recognised, and men I didn’t - mostly men, some younger women, obviously there as eye-candy. But we were the real totty, no mistake. And I was going to flaunt myself so that it was me that got fucked. I was a little panicky at the thought, but yes, I had decided it - I was going to be as pretty and sexy and attractive as I could be - and I would put out, if he wanted me.
It made me feel all fizzy inside, knowing this, and I had to stop myself thinking about all sorts of consequences and implications but I was certain - there was no way I was going to have done all this, put up with that humiliating interview, and not be the girl The Founder chose.
I began to get very self-conscious indeed. M was looking at me, calm but focused, and I blushed. But I liked it; liked her looking - I was sure she was mostly looking at me, and not the other three - but I kept wanting to check, and so I kept meeting her eyes, then looking down, blushing, flicking my eyes back up, to meet her knowing eyes and small smile, which only made me blush more. She knew - she knew I was ready to be fucked - that I was going to whore myself. It was weird, knowing she knew - but I knew she was pleased, and I liked it - I really liked it, I realised, even though I found it disturbing. It gave her a power over me, and I was happy that she had it. Somehow it was safer to be under her power than to be there on my own. I found I wanted to please her - to show her that she was right about me - that she could trust me to please Him, to be what He wanted.
Picture: Showing herself off
I preened a little, noticed her smile at the corner of her mouth, blushed, and preened some more. My pussy was warm. God, I had never felt like this before. Nat said something, but I couldn’t really talk at that point - somehow I decided it was very important to be seen, for him to notice me, and so I began to position myself where he would certainly see me if he arrived via the lobby. Suddenly I wished that the dress was shorter - after having felt it was too short all afternoon. What was the point having made an effort if it didn’t get me the prize? The prize of being fucked by a stranger? God, but this was weird!
A commotion - it was the VIP party. Almost without thinking about it, I ‘dropped’ my little clutch purse and bent from the hip to pick it up, turning away from where he would pass. The short hem rode up my thighs; I stayed down, making it seem I had fumbled, before slowly straightening up.
Picture: Flipping her skirt up
I was bright pink, butterflies in my stomach; I had just flashed my thighs - possibly my skimpy panties - to the whole top-brass of the company. But I saw that tiny smile at the corner of M’s mouth again, and I felt good - even if it made me blush all over again. The way she was looking at me - was she a lesbian? I knew I wasn’t a lesbian myself - I liked men, I liked sex with men - but the thought of her wanting me sexually was strangely fascinating.
I was shaking now - the other three totty girls were looking at me, variously grinning or daggers; and quite a few of the men in the room were staring at my ass or breasts. We were moving into the large private dining room, and Nat, grinning, made a point of catching hold of the lead hanging from my collar and walking me in. I tried to protest but M caught my eye and shook her head. She was quite the Madam, and I blushed, knowing for sure that I was being whored, and knowing for sure that I was whoring myself right along with them. It made for a noticeable entrance, alright. Being led along on a leash seemed shockingly slutty, and, weirder still, I liked it - liked knowing that anyone who saw would be thinking about me in terms of sex, would know that I was going to be fucked that night by someone rich and powerful. I was a little bit breathless - calmed myself the only way I knew how - by walking attractively - OK - sexily.
Picture: Leashed
It had all happened so fast - I wasn’t that sort of girl? Or was I?
Six of us girls were placed at a round table, within the main horseshoe run - where all could ogle us, of course. I concentrated on sitting as prettily as I could, and ate hardly anything, drinking only water, smiling a lot when people spoke, but not really speaking. Nat, on the other hand, was gabbling away like anything - she was nervous too, I supposed.
Mostly I was aware that I was displaying myself. All of this was shameful - to be doing this in front of a load of strangers, so a rich man would choose me instead of another slut - but I had come this far, and there really was no going back. There was no point being here and not being knock-out sexy - even if I felt like a slutty bimbo. So I posed like crazy, lifting my arms to brush back my hair to make my tits move, licking my lips slowly - that sort of thing.
Picture: Shamelessly flaunting herself
At some point, it occurred to me that if I stood up and went to the loo (even though I had no need to), He (and everyone else), would probably watch me walk; that I could walk very beautifully, very sexually. I blushed at even having had the thought, but it wouldn’t let me go. And then I thought; why not get Nat to lead me? Make it really obvious that I was happy to be led around on a leash. Make myself appear submissive and vulnerable; not even able to move without being directed.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t! But something was compelling me, and in the end I leaned over to Nat, and asked her if she would lead me to the loos. She looked at me with puzzlement, then shock, then with a wicked grin;
“Ok then, you slapper, you!” She was laughing, but we both knew that this was serious too; that I really was being a slapper, and I blushed, but kept looking at her until she stood up, and reached over for the lead.
The room went almost silent as she led me out of the room, walking slowly. I walked like a catwalk model, along an imaginary straight line, letting my hips move in a pronounced wiggle, my hands demurely clasped behind my back, eyes lowered. Nat was doing her best sexy walk too. I was trembling, but my pussy was hot and I knew I liked it.
Picture: Led like a pet
We did go to the loo, hid in a cubicle, and Nat exploded into hysterical giggles. I was too nervous to giggle, and she looked at me, getting more serious;
“You really want to fuck him, don’t you?”
“I .. I suppose I do. Yes. Well, what I want is .. I want him to choose me. And .. and then I guess that means he’ll want to fuck me. Oh God, Nat; what is happening?”
“Come on, we’ve got to get back”
We tumbled out of the cubicle, and I shrieked a little, surprised, as M was there - she must have heard everything.
We dithered like guilty schoolgirls until she said, briskly;
“Natalie, you may go back now. I will bring Lila along in in a minute.”
There was no arguing with her, but it was an entirely different matter being led along by a boss, a stranger - with Nat I could pretend that it was all a bit of fun, play-acting, but we all knew that M was deadly serious, and there were high red spots on my cheeks as she took the lead;
“Lift your skirt, please - right up now; that’s it. Hold for me.”
Picture: Lifting her skirt
I complied without thought, without hesitation; she had natural command - over me at any rate. I was trembling tinily, all over - a delicious but un-nerving feeling. She held the lead, shortened it, with one hand, lifted so that my head was up. Then, her other hand went under my dress, beneath my legs.
She was going to feel me up - find out how shamefully wet I was! Desperately, if stupidly weakly, I pulled away, as I knew a decent girl should.
She jerked the lead a little, shocking me. Her voice was calm, but again was utterly convincing.
“Don’t try to resist me, pretty - not ever. Do you understand me?”
She wanted an answer, it was clear, and somehow, despite being clear that what she was saying was insupportable - immoral - plain wrong - I had no better idea than to do what she wanted - I was suddenly genuinely frightened of earning her displeasure - or was that eagerness to earn her approval?
“Yes .. yes, m .. madam’ my voice was weak and breathy, but it was clear enough in the silent room. She let it hang while the reality of what had been accepted as the reality between us sank in, then;
“Now, open your legs - better. Keep still, now.”
And I made myself keep still as she touched my pussy through the lacy little panties. I couldn’t help it; my eyes closed, I bit my lip, and even so made a little moan. I was so wet!
“These panties will never do; you’re soaking you little slut. Take them off!”
My eyes flew open at that, but her face was calmly serious, and I blushed, looking down. There had been a knowing look in her eyes that shook me. She was right; I was a slut - and I liked it; liked being singled out by her, liked her fingers on my pussy. Liked being unable to resist her orders as I rolled my panties down my thighs, then dropped them to the floor. She made me leave them where they fell.
“Now - show me!”
Picture: Bottomless
“Just so. Right and proper for a girl like you, don’t you think?”
She took the leash, and led me back to the dining room. The sensation of being naked under the short dress was incredible - terrifying, exciting, sexy.
Read the next part of I just said ‘Yes’.
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