The building was a small one which butted up directly against its neighbors. It was in a dingy, poor area of town, but no worse than where my family lived. Ringing the bell, I was admitted inside by a severe looking older woman with a large bosom and greying hair tied up in a bun.

"I'm here about the job, ma'am," I uttered.

"Very well," said the woman. She walked around me, looking me up and down. I remained still and tried to stand up straight. I wanted to make a good impression.

"First," said the woman. "I need to tell you that nothing that we speak of here can leave this room. If you can keep a secret, you're welcome to stay. Otherwise, you can leave right now."

I swallowed. "I can keep a secret," I said. It was a strange thing to ask, but I needed a job. The family was nearly out of money, and if I did not soon find employment then one of us at least would need to either walk the streets or enter the factories.

"Good," the woman said, and she walked behind me to lock the door. She sat on a stool in front of me and gestured for me to take a seat as well. "I cannot tell you the name of my employer. Should you take the job, you will meet him in due time."

"I understand," I said.

Curiosity got the better of me. "But why the need for such secrecy? And what is the nature of the work? The advertisement only said "Girl wanted."

The woman smiled, showing a mouth of discolored teeth. "The nature of the work is to do whatever your master desires." Something about the way that she said desires made me shudder and made forbidden feelings of lust awake in my loins.

"But first," she said. "I need to make sure that you are qualified. Take off all your clothes and place them over the back of the chair."

I stood, blushing furiously. "Ma'am," I said. "I--"

The woman looked at me severely. "If you do not submit to the full interview, then you are welcome to be on your way. But if you are interested in this job, I need you to remove your clothing. There are certain medical considerations associated with this position, and if I cannot examine you, then you cannot be considered."

I closed my mouth and nodded, reminding myself that if I couldn't get this position my only other option might soon be to sell my body. Better that an old woman should see me than that I should actually be forced to walk the streets.

I removed my clothing slowly, piece by piece. As I did, the woman's eyes never left me, and I felt naked long before I finally removed my slip or drawers. But finally I stood naked before her. She grabbed a piece of paper and walked around me again, looking at me appraisingly, like a jeweler peeking through his glass.

"Full name?" the woman snapped.

"Eliza Baker," I said.

"Age?"

"Eighteen," I told her.

"Are you of good health? Any medical issues?"

"No, ma'am," I said, trying to hold my hands down by my side. They seemed to move of their own accord, to want to cover my bosom and quim.

"Are you a virgin?" she asked.

I blushed again.

"Are you a virgin?" she repeated.

"Yes," I said.

"I'll see proof of that by and by," she said. "Have you ever had an orgasm?"

I was a little shocked to hear her speak that word, but I shook my head that I hadn't.

"Very well," said the woman. She noted my answers on her paper.

She walked around me again, coming closer and looking me up and down while muttering to herself and writing on her paper. "Brown eyes," she said. "Clear complexion, good skin. Brown hair, plain but long." She examined my breasts up close. "Good bosom. No evidence of pregnancy or breast feeding. Large and reasonably pert. Nipples are pink." At this, she reached out and hefted my breasts, squeezing them and then pinching the nipples until I cried out. "Good sensitivity," she continued as if nothing had happened. "And reasonably firm. Left areola is puffy and slightly larger than the right," she said.

I glanced down at my breasts. I had never examined them this closely. It had never seemed proper. And yet here she was, cataloguing them and touching them. It all seemed so wrong. And yet, I still felt a certain base excitement through it all, although I could not tell why. The woman then crouched down and began to inspect my quim.

My ears felt as though they would burn off entirely as she looked at it, sniffed it. "Brown hair," she uttered and wrote. "No evidence of discharge or venereal disease." Then, at that, she motioned for me to spread my legs. I closed my eyes and assented. All at once, I felt my fingers there on me, grasping my quim and spreading it. I gasped and opened my eyes and looked down. "You are indeed a virgin," the woman said.

"Please," I said, my heart pounding and full of shame. "Please, are you done?"

"Very nearly," said the woman. She looked up at me, and I saw compassion in her eyes for the first time. "If you want to be done, you need not continue."

I looked down at her and bit my lip. "I need this job," I whispered.