EXTRACT FOR
BIG GIRLS DON'T CRY, THEY SCREAM
(Kim Hardwick)

My name is Marcus, and I make living shooting videos of women having their nipples, vaginas and anus' tortured.  Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I was moderately pleased.  I had lost some weight, but my face was still puffy.  I still had about twenty pounds to go.  At least my facial hair was fine.

Stepping back to view my profile, I spotted some grey hairs sprouting randomly about my hair; that's a good thing, I thought.  Salt and pepper hair coloration suggested maturity; confidence.  

One last look before turning to finish dressing; couldn't be late for my appointment with the latest candidate.

Almost an hour later, parked my car and walked to the front entrance of the loft where I conduct my operations and most of the filming.  Today I would be alone, as was my habit when interviewing new girls.  I determined early on that most interviewees are nervous when in the presence of more than one man (in particular for this line of work), and since I never film for the first interview, I decided to give Carl a paid day off.

Upon entering, I was surprised to see the applicant waiting in the lobby.  Good.  Early for the interview; obviously she was either a well-motivated individual or professional.  If there is one thing that impresses me about a slave, is punctuality.

"Good morning Sandra, I see you're early.  Good."

"Good Morning, Mr. Smith, thank you once again for the interview."  Shy, but still respectful.  Very impressive.   And she was a beauty, indeed.

"You may call me Marcus.  Please step in."  Opening the elevator gate, I noted with approval her figure, and in particular, her buttocks and moderate breasts.

"Luckily, the snow held off, otherwise I would have called you last night to cancel the interview."  I smiled at Sandra; most new girls get very nervous on their first on screen interview.

"I know, I was so worried."  She smiled at me, obviously nervous.  I was beginning to warm up to her.

"Tell me, Sandra, you say you've done something similar before?"  I figured I may as well not waste time and begin the interview while riding the slow freight elevator to the top floor.

"Yes, Marcus, two years ago, I was hired to model some devices and clothing for a sexual clothing line.  They dealt with BDSM items.  I was given a few lashings, more to get me in the mood for the photo shoot, but regardless, I found it to be very exciting and it really turned me on."  The enthusiasm in her voice was unmistakable.

"So you never participated in an actual, no holds bar session?  In other words, it was more of an advertising shoot."  I was scrambling with my memory to see if she had mentioned it.  Absent looking at her resume, I could only assume that she had mentioned it; give her the benefit of the doubt.  This may be problematic.  

"No, I've never done an actual, hard core type session.  Although, as I've mentioned, the feel of leather hitting me really aroused me."  She blushed and giggled at the same time.  Very nice.

I smiled and kept silent, waiting for this obnoxiously slow elevator to reach its destination.  Only two more floors.  My mind was furiously working out the possible scenarios.  Experience has shown that young women lacking a background in this lifestyle tend to freak out when finally faced with the reality.  In other words, once the pedal hits the metal, they crack.

Yet, looking at her and smiling, and noting how she smiled back, I do like the looks of her stiff nipples, the way they push out.  Having stiff long nipples is always a plus.

"Sandra, may I test your nipples for sensitivity?"  I may as well get this out of the way; see how she reacts to direct sexual contact.

Her eyes, the way the pupils dilated, was the only hint that she was caught off guard by my request.  She smiled and instead of answering, she unbuttoned her blouse and quickly freed her right nipples for my perusal.

"I like your positive attitude, Sandra.  Very professional."  I smiled back at her just as the elevator stopped at my floor.  I opened the gate to prevent someone else from calling for it.  While still in the elevator, I reached over and with my right thumb and forefinger, gave her cute, erect nipple a squeeze and then an equally quick twist, followed by a firm tug.  The only response she gave was to open her mouth and give a moan.

Yes, she will do just nicely.  Nothing like an unrehearsed demonstration of a woman's love of nipple torture to measure the worth of a slave.