The first woman cleared her throat. "Excuse me," she said.

The secretary typed a few more characters, then looked up. "He knows you're here, but a very important call came in just before you arrived. I'm sure it won't much longer."

"Okay. I don't mean to sound impatient, but I have another appointment in an hour. May I ask why you're leaving?"

The secretary smiled. "I'm getting married!" She extended her left hand.

"Oh, congratulations. The ring is beautiful!"

"Thanks." The secretary glanced at the phone just in time to see the lit button go dark. "He just hung up," she said. The intercom buzzed immediately. "Yes, Mr. Henderson?"

"You can send the girl in, Wendy," came the voice from the other end. It sounded thin and tinny over the tiny intercom speaker.

Wendy looked up. "He's ready to see you now."

"Thanks." The woman stood and smoothed out her skirt. She patted her blond flip. "Do I look all right? I'm so nervous."

Wendy's eyes narrowed as she regarded the slender blond. "Honey, believe me, you look fine. In fact-" She stopped, and motioned with her head. "Better get in there. He doesn't like to be kept waiting."

The young woman hurried over to the door to the inner office, turned the knob and strode in. On the other side she found herself in a large office with hardwood floor and walls of rich wood paneling. The desk was expansive and imposing. The rest of office was furnished with a couch and several padded chairs, all upholstered in leather. A coffee table occupied the space in front of the couch. In the far corner was another door, unlabeled.

The man behind the desk had movie star looks, with a strong chin and patches of gray at the temples. He appeared not to notice the woman's entrance, but looked beyond her, through her. Presently, he blinked and focused.

"Close the door. Come in." In person, his voice was deep, and as rich as his suit. The woman closed the door and stood a few feet inside the office, fingers fidgeting at her sides. "You must be..." - he consulted a piece of paper on his desk - "Candace."

"Yes. Sir. Mr. Henderson. Sir."

The corner or Henderson's mouth raised, hinting at a smile. "What do your friends call you, Candace?"

"Oh, everyone just calls me Candi. With an 'I'."

"Candi... I like that. It's sweet."

"Yes, I guess so," she giggled, color rising in her cheeks. She glanced at one of the chairs. "Um, should I sit down?" She started toward the chair.

"No."

Candi froze. She looked at Henderson. "No?"

"That's what I said."

"I can't sit down?"

"Not just yet. I want to get a good look at you."

"A good look at me?"

"Are you having trouble understanding me?"

"No. It's just that-"

"Turn around, Candi."

"Turn around?"

Henderson sighed. "Young lady, if you're to work for me, you have to learn to obey my orders. Now, turn around for me."

"I'm sorry. I-"

"Turn, already!"

Candi gasped and spun around.

Henderson shook his head. "No, no. Do it again. Slower this time." She did as he said. When she facing away from him, he said, "Stop there. Yes. Mm hm."

Candi stood staring back at the door to the outer office. She waited. She clasped her hands in front of her and began wringing them.

"Hands at your side," came Henderson's voice behind her. "Better. You have a nice derriere, Candi. Very rounded."

"Um, sir?"

"Nice legs, too, from what I can see of them. Lift your skirt a couple of inches. Keep going. Over the knees. Another inch. That's it. Oh yes, lovely slender ankles. Shapely calves and thighs. Now face me again. Keep the skirt up."

Candi turned, fingers clenched into the wool of her skirt, keeping it hiked up. Her cheeks were bright crimson. She was breathing heavily. Her lips quivered and she blinked rapidly over misty eyes.

Henderson seemed not to notice. "You're a very pretty girl, Candi." He paused and frowned. "It's customary to say 'thank you' when one is complimented, isn't it?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. Th- Thank you."

"Sir. You should always address me as 'sir'. Or 'Mr. Henderson'. Like you did when you first came in. I was very impressed with that. You can lower your skirt now."

"Yes, sir. But- um- well-"

"What?"

"Mr. Henderson, aren't you interested in my qualifications? Typing, steno, that sort of thing?"

"Of course I am. It's all right here in your application and I assume it's accurate. Now let's continue. My way. That is, if you're still interested in the job."

"I am, Mr. Henderson."

He held her gaze and let his smile grow. "You seem to like showing off those pretty legs of yours, don't you?"

Candi gasped. She was still holding up her skirt. "Oh! I'm sorry, sir."

Henderson's gaze fell upon her now covered thighs. "Answer the question, Candi. You like showing them off, don't you?"

"I- I don't know, sir. I never really thought-"

"Yes or no."

"Sir, it depends."

He glanced up. "On what?"

"On who's doing the looking."

"Well..." He lowered his focus again. "I'm looking now. Do you like showing off for me?"

Candi stared at the man behind the desk. He did not look up. She watched him watching her. Her hands crept slowly over the front of her skirt. She flexed her fingers as if massaging her thighs. The silence breathed.

At last she said, "I- I think so, sir. Yes."

"Good." He looked up and motioned toward the far wall. "Now walk over to the bookcase there and back. And remember what I said about obeying orders."

"Yes, sir." Candi nodded and walked to the bookcase. When she turned around, she saw that Henderson had leaned forward. His left arm crossed his chest and he stroked his angular chin with his right hand. She came to a stop directly in front of him.

Getting the Job
Copyright 2003 by Rod Harden
rodharden@yahoo.com
All rights reserved
Do not reproduce without written permission from the author

"Again," he said, his eyes focused on her hips. "Put more sway into it this time."

"Mr. Henderson, I-"

"Does this bother you?"

"Maybe. A little."

"All I did was ask you walk a certain way."

"But what do my legs and the way I walk have to do with the job?"

Henderson leaned forward and grinned. "You know, you're even prettier when you get... aroused. Now get walking."

"Yes," she huffed, then added, "Mr. Henderson, sir."

When she arrived at the bookcase, Henderson said, "Stop there and get me one of the books on the bottom shelf. Doesn't matter which. No, don't stoop like that. Bend at the waist. Yes. Legs straight. That's right."

When she stood and turned, Candi's face was once more aflame. She returned to the desk with exaggerated hip motion and set the book in front of Henderson. "There's your book," she fumed.

Henderson was smiling broadly. "Oh, that was excellent! Exactly what I'm looking for. See how well we get along when you do as you're told?"

Candi said nothing. The color remained in her cheeks.

"How high are those heels?"

She shrugged. "Four inches I think."

"That'll do. Five would be better. Nothing shorter than four though."

"Yes, sir. Does all this mean I have the job, sir?"

Henderson seemed not to hear the question. His gaze fell now on Candi's chest. "You're somewhat lacking on top, aren't you?"

"Sir?"

"Your breasts, girl! There's not much there. What's your bra size?"

"My bra size?"

Henderson sat back, sighing heavily. "Candi, if you repeat everything I say, we'll be here all day."

"32b. Sir."

"Hm..." Henderson regarded her, his eyes roving from head to foot and back again. "Unbutton two more buttons on your blouse."

Candi hesitated, but did as she was told.

"Mm hm. Good. Now, push together. You know, like this." He pantomimed squeezing his nonexistent breasts together.

Candi rolled her eyes. "Like this, sir?" She scrunched her arms together, glaring at the man behind the desk the whole time.

"Yes. See, there IS cleavage there. Just have to... help it along. I'll have Wendy give you the address of a woman's shop I know. They can fit you with a special type of bra. You can bill it to my account."

"Mr. Henderson! I really don't think it's appropriate for you to-"

"You may sit now."

Candi stopped short. "Yes, sir," she said through clenched teeth. She plopped herself into the closest chair.

Henderson shook his head. He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. Without opening them, he said, "Stand up again and seat yourself like a proper lady."

Candi's nostrils flared. "Mr. Henderson, I know perfectly well how to sit-"

"Either do as you're told or get out and stop wasting my time."

Candi huffed but stood up. Henderson's eyes remained closed. She looked at him. Then at the door. Then at him again. The hint of a smile had returned to his lips.

"Aren't you going to watch me, sir? To make sure I sit the right way." She made no effort to hide the sarcasm in her voice.

Henderson's smile broadened. "You want to show off for me again?"

"I didn't mean that, I-"

"Just sit down, dear. I'm certain you'll do it right this time."

Candi took a breath and visibly relaxed. She wrestled with a smile, gave up, then smoothed her skirt and sat. She flipped right leg over left. "I'm sitting, sir."

"Good. Are your legs crossed?"

"Yes, sir."

Henderson opened his eyes. "Uncross them. Yes. Legs together. Angle the knees to the side and slant the calves... Right. Very good. That's how you're to sit."

"Yes, sir."

"How are you feeling now, Candi?"

"Sir?"

"You heard me."

"Well... I'm still wondering what-"

"I asked how you're feeling, not what you're wondering."

"But, I, well, I guess-"

Henderson's face became suddenly serious. "Stand up!" His voice boomed.

"Yes, sir." Candi rose and stood as though ready for military inspection.

Henderson stood as well and stared down at her from his eight inch height advantage. "I expect my girl to look and act exactly as I say, and to give me straight answers. It's as important to me as typing. More so in fact. Candi, this job is yours if you think you can obey me without question."

Candi nodded. "I can, Mr. Henderson."

"Good. Bend over and grab your ankles."

After the slightest hint of hesitation she said, "Yes, sir," and leaned over. Her entire body seemed to pulse with her rapid deep breaths.

Henderson walked around his desk. He approached the folded girl and began to slowly circle her. "Say 'yes, sir' again."

"Yes, sir."

"Again."

"Yes, sir."

"Again!"

"Yes, sir!"

"AGAIN!"

"YES, SIR!"

"Now answer the question. How do you feel, Candi?" He stopped and thrust his hand between her thighs.

"Oh, god!"

"Tell me how you feel."

"Please, sir."

"Tell me, Candi."

"I- I'm h- horny, sir. And hot! Oh, that feels so good, what you're doing. Don't stop!"

"Are you telling me or asking me?" He pulled his hand away.

"Asking! I'm asking. Please, sir!" He shoved his hand back where it was. "Yes!" she cried. "Please don't st- o- OP! OH!"

Henderson continued to finger her. She moaned and rocked against him. Her body shook and trembled, even as she kept her grip on her ankles.

At last, Henderson withdrew his hand and rested it on her still upthrust ass. "I think you'll do fine here, Candi."

"Th- thank you, sir."

He retreated behind his desk and sat. "You may stand up again."

"Yes, sir." She stood and stared at him. He had a distant, almost drowsy look on his face. His left hand rested on the desk, but his right was under it, moving back and forth in a slow, steady rhythm.

"Mr. Henderson, I can't believe I let you do what you just did."

He nodded, but said nothing. His breathing became deeper, more rapid.

"How did you know I would?" she persisted.

Henderson grimaced and grunted. He took a deep breath and refocused on the young woman in his office. He smiled. "I knew the minute I told you not to sit down."

She smiled back him. "So did I, Mr. Henderson. So did I."

Getting the Job
Copyright 2003 by Rod Harden
All rights reserved
Do not reproduce without written permission from the author