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.