It was dark when I arrived at the office, which was unremarkable even within the mundanity of the industrial estate. The receptionist had long gone home, but the front door had been left open for me. Harsh overhead lighting clicked on with every step I took across the grey lobby and up the stairs.
He was waiting for me at the top, arms folded, the slightest smile curved into his mouth. Welcoming me politely, he offered to give me a brief tour before the interview. Ushering me from this side of the narrow corridor to that, I took in the staff room, the cramped area where the IT staff comforted themselves with the thrum of the servers, his tidy, ordered office, before being shown into the board room, where “we would be most comfortable”.
He shut the door behind us, despite the rest of the building being abandoned. The layout was simple: a long glass table with uncomfortable, masculine-looking chairs around all sides, a monitor hung on the wall, a tray with glasses waiting to be filled with water, and a leather sofa. Stood leaning against the long table, his palms pushed into the cold surface, he asked me if I understood the job I was here to apply for today; I pressed my body against his, looked up into his eyes intently, and told him I did. His next question: what makes me suitable for the role? I stepped back away from him before turning and mounting the sofa on all fours, with one knee on the arm to stretch my thighs apart. Lifting my pencil skirt to reveal my bare, underwear-less arse, I looked back over my shoulder and silently, triumphantly, grinned.
That’s when the first spank hit me, and knocked the grin off my face. It was hard, fast, and made my arse cheek glow with pain and my lips explode into a squeal. His fingers pushed forcefully between my cunt lips from behind and sensed how wet that one, intense impact had made me. He told me I was a good girl, his voice barely above a whisper.
Gripping my hair and pulling my head back level with his in a snap, he asked me to show him what my qualifications were. He released me and returned to stand leaning against the table; intense yet casual, confident about what was about to be, his hands gripping the edge. Kneeling before him, my skirt still pushed up to my hips, I hurriedly unzipped and revealed his imposing cock to me. The sharp strands of the carpet tiles needled into the skin on my knees. Wanting to demonstrate what a good girl I really was, I stretched my lips and swallowed his entire length right up to the hilt in one, smooth movement.
As I gagged on him, he held my face rigid with both hands and kept me there. One second, two seconds, three, five, before he released, allowing me to pull back and breathe. Spit dripped from the end of the head.
Taking him in my mouth once more, I pushed my lips back and forwards over his hardness, while he gently caressed my cheek. I could hear his breathing, becoming more and more ragged, but not once did he moan out loud; he was controlled in all ways. As I looked up at his face, our eyes briefly met before he gripped my hair hard once more and pushed my face back down onto him deeply. He exhaled with the sound of smug satisfaction for a few moments, before dragging my choking mouth off him.
I obeyed when he flatly told me to get naked. I obeyed him again when I was told to fold my clothes neatly on the sofa. I obeyed once more as he told me to get down on the floor. All while being watched, intently. The second spank came, even harder than before, making my body convulse forwards. This time, a guttural, animal moan escaped from me. The third, was made softer by the angle, landing on my other cheek. My skin burned, while my cunt gushed.
Naked, on all fours, on the floor of his boardroom, my arse stinging, I heard him push his trousers to the floor, the belt buckle jingling against itself. The head of his dick was held against my soaking wet opening briefly, before he commandingly pushed himself in, with one hand on my back. I moaned even harder as I realised he wasn’t wearing a condom, anticipating what was to come.
He fucked me in long, hard strokes. It was as though he was acclimatising himself inside me, getting used to the angle of my cunt, the feel of it around him, what movements I reacted to. It was exploratory fucking. He was silent as he was doing me; I think he was relishing the noise of my wetness as he thrust into it.
Then suddenly, he withdrew. I barely had time to register the loss of his dick before another impact caught me, pushing my head to smack into the wall in front of me. His hand quickened and followed with a fast volley of spanks, all hard, all directly onto my right cheek. The sharp pain and humiliation of it made me weep from both my eyes and my cunt.
His next question: how much did I want it? My breathing ragged, I whispered that I wanted it, so, so much. He stroked the raw, red flesh of my arse, the flesh he had shaped, and told me to speak up. As much as his forceful hand had made me feel alive, had made my cunt flow, had made my skin needle with tension, I needed respite; I wanted to avoid further impacts. So I screamed: I want it so much.
His dick pounded into me immediately. He placed his hands on my arse cheeks, caressing and soothing them while he fucked me. I obeyed when he ordered me to touch myself. My fingers reached under my body and rapidly rubbed my clit. I felt his hardness bumping into my fingertips. I have never made such noise.
Losing his composure ever so slightly, he pushed the air between his teeth and moaned as I did. Whether he sensed I was close or not, I don’t know, but he ripped my own hand away from between my thighs and replaced it with his own. Lifting my head back by my hair, his thrusts paused as he circled my soaked clit to climax. Feeling his cock static inside me, I came all over it. I came so hard I cried; the tears flowing from relief and pleasure and pain and the humiliation of the scene. I imagined someone walking into the room right then, one of his colleagues, and witnessing me, being grabbed and fucked and fingered, while every inch of my body was on show.
I sank into the floor as he let go of my hair, my face pressed against the skirting board. The carpet fibres tickled my nose. He used my cum to lubricate his final thrusts, giving my arse one final, celebratory spank as he filled me. By that point, I barely registered the impact. Only then, did he appear to fully let go of himself, both of his cum and his composure, and he shouted and swore as he came.
For what seemed like minutes, he remained inside me, softening, breathing heavily, before slowly slipping free. I heard him stand, swallow hard, and reach for something from his discarded trouser pockets. I could tell he was taking photos then, evidence of what we had achieved together.
Only later, as I sat on his lap on the sofa, drinking the water he had finally poured for me, did he tell me I got the job.