"Miss Taylor, please remove your clothes."

She gives me a look.

I enjoy it when they're a little bashful. It's fun knowing their modesty will soon be shed along with their clothes. I like to see them shyly look at me as they lower their panties, stripping with one hand, covering with the other. I love to make them remove that hand and pose for me, naughty pose after naughty pose, each more embarrassing than the last. And finally, when they assume the ultimately humiliating position, when there is absolutely nothing private left, I comment on what I see, and watch them blush.

Of course, as she lives in the Lawless Zones, she can hardly be all that innocent. By age 19, she's undoubtedly had to put on a show many times, and worse. Our private security service reports that she's living in a communal gangsta harem. But I'm willing to go along with a little pretense just for the fun of it.

"Miss Taylor, please do not waste my time. Will you or will you not disrobe? Possibly you have not had a chance to read the standard application guide you received the day you applied. Here's what it says:

"Thank you for applying for a position at Consolidated Worldwide. Your secretarial skills will be assessed by a computer program over the next two days. On the third day you will be interviewed personally by Mr. Antwyn Forbush, the man you will be working for if you are hired. Mr. Forbush will have the results of your tests along with your original application. He may ask you a few more questions about it.

"As the position of executive secretary to Mr. Forbush is listed as SS, he will then ask you to disrobe. He will require you to assume a number of different positions while naked. Some women find this embarrassing, but otherwise he cannot grade you on your natural physical attributes. He will then ask you to do certain things to or with him, or he may ask you to perform solo.

"Mr. Forbush will carefully evaluate you on your performance, taking into account willingness, speed and quantity of lubrication, quality and duration of orgasm, and many other factors. He will then assign you a Sexual Services Score. This score, along with your Secretarial Services Score and other information from your application, will be used to determine if the position you applied for is offered to you.

"You are free to leave the interviewing room without disrobing. In that case, your application will not be considered. At any time in the sexual scoring process you are free to refuse any request by Mr. Forbush. You need not explain why you are refusing. Simply get dressed and leave. Once again, your application will be disregarded."

She nods. Maybe she really is a little nervous, because she's looking about my office, hoping there is something to hide behind as she strips. Of course there isn't. Half the fun is seeing them squirm as each item comes off. She leans forward in her chair to remove her shoes. No bra, of course. Too expensive for a Zoner.

Thirty years ago, I could have been sent to prison for what I'm about to do to Miss Taylor. Or she could have sued Consolidated for sexual harrassment. But this is 2035, not 2005. Feminism died in the Oil Wars of 2020- 26, when the world went smash. Nearly a billion died.

For the survivors, life is very hard. The few police here in Central City are underpaid, understaffed, and corrupt, leaving true control of the city to the paid mercenaries of the multinationals. The Lawless Zones have no police, and no rule but the rule of force.

Every woman in today's sorry world must have a man to protect her. Whenever we post a position, Zoners apply in droves. They'll do anything to escape Zone life. Why do we require sexual services from all our secretaries? Because we can. Because they have no choice. Because we're men.

Now her blouse is off. Her average size breasts are firm, her pink nipples show promise. She's still doing the pretend modesty bit, trying to cover up while she pulls down her jeans and steps out. She grasps her waistband, makes eye contact, lowers her panties and her eyes both at once. She reseats herself and places her hands behind her neck. I gesture, and she slowly opens her legs.

She looks so good that I regret I've already done so many interviews today. I'm no threat to her, but I don't tell her that. Anyway, it's still fun to look.

I remain seated as I make her come forward and stand in front of my face. Now this is nice. She's shaved, and has nice heavy pussy lips that naturally hang slightly open, giving me a tiny peek inside. I get her on all fours and have her spread her legs real wide. Now her breasts are loose and free. I have her swing them from side to side.

I put latex gloves on, kneel behind her, and start playing with those big floppy lips. They hang down like curtains. I start slowly, touching lightly, until she lubricates. Then I increase the pressure and speed. She never knows just what I'm going to do next. She jerks her ass about as I run my fingers up and down her slit. She moans and quivers.

"Are you going to fuh... make love to me?"

I'd take that as an invitation, but I just can't manage it so I have to tell her no. I insert one finger, two. They glide in effortlessly.

I take my hands away and turn her over on her back on my deep pile carpet. I make her raise her legs to her chest, spread wide, open herself up with both hands. I do a thorough inspection. She's blushing, excited. She's thinking about what she has to do to get a high SS Score.

Actually I'm looking for lesions. The Death to Infidels organization released a bio-engineered herpes virus last month that's supposed to be pretty bad. I don't see anything but healthy pink flesh, but still when dealing with Zoners it's always best to wear gloves, and I'm thankful I am.

Her nipples are erect, but I tell her I think they can get bigger. She invites me to see what I can do. Ever notice how anything you put in your mouth seems bigger than life? I measure her arousal with my tongue. It feels like three inches, probably it's really only one. I'm an equal opportunity nipple sucker.

When I switch to her right breast I feel her bucking. I look down and see she's doing herself two-handed, opening herself with the left and plunging up and down with her right. She's nice and vocal as she cums. I don't mind them talking dirty if they really mean it.

A sheen of sweat covers her as she slumps down. I tell that I intend to give her a top SS Score. It's the truth. She claims to be sorry that I wasn't in the mood, and promises to be very good to me if she gets the job. I let her dress.

I even feel a tiny tinge of regret that I can't hire her. We employ Zoners at lower levels, but not of course as executive assistants. So why have I been interviewing them for a position I can't offer? Let's just say I like to take advantage of my perks.

The etiquette books all suggest that an applicant should follow up the interview with a handwritten note of thanks. Should an interviewee thank the interviewer for helping her cum?

I suppose not. She did most of the work.

There's no mail service in the Zones, so I make sure she knows where to go to find out the status of her application. She will find a nice check "in appreciation for taking the time to apply at Consolidated" tucked inside a polite letter of rejection. Perhaps she will be so grateful for the money that she will seek me out. This is common. By then I may be able to offer her a very special position, cash from my personal account for occasional services.

But I still need to hire a secretary.

My secretary must be well-bred, graceful, modest. She must dress well and speak in a modulated voice. She must be obedient and discreet, yet with the courage to suggest a more moderate course when I go too far. She must trust me, and earn my trust. She must be intelligent. And there is so much more. One might call it a distinction of class. One might say no Zoners need apply.

There is only one applicant who meets the above criteria. I'll interview her tomorrow. I'd like to have my little fun, yet I must not scare her off. **

Miss Thornton is 24 and already an experienced secretary. She was educated at one of the better finishing schools in Memphis. Unfortunately, both of her parents, who were of the highest class, died when the New Madrid fault gave way.

I stand up as she enters my office. I can tell she is impressed. Not by the thick carpet or the panoramic view of the city, but by my wood desk and wainscotting, which could not be replicated by any amount of money now that the tropics have been entirely deforested.

She walks confidently to my desk and extends her hand, murmuring the usual niceties. She seats herself in the proffered chair, legs demurely together and angled slightly to the side. She is wearing a tailored beige suit over a peach top. Her voice is smooth and melodious, her diction perfect. It is such a pleasure to hear, after two days of the vulgar Zone patois.

"You have two years of experience at Mega, I see? Was that a 24/7 rated position?"

"No, Mr. Harrington was rather elderly and so by special dispensation he only worked part-time, about 50 hours a week. And after his diagnosis, his actual work hours fell more. Those last few months he spent quite some time in the company swimming pool by doctor's orders. I became more of a nurse and beloved companion than a secretary."

"Did you join him in the pool?"

"Oh, yes, always. Towards the end I had to physically support him in the water. Of course we were living together under terms of the contract, and we fell into the habit of swimming in the nude every day in the early morning. He did not want others to see his frailty."

"I assume your position was SS rated?"

"Yes, in theory I was to provide sexual services, but Mr. Harrington never availed himself, due to age and ill health I suppose. After he died, it turned out that there were no openings for a secretary at the executive level. I could have joined the secretarial pool, of course, but the SS clause would have been activated, and I felt I did not wish to withstand the natural popularity of a newly available girl."

"Knowing as I'm sure you do that this is a Shadow position, are you prepared to immediately move your personal possessions into my living quarters if you are hired? Can you tell me what you believe a Shadow position entails?"

"I'm fully ready to move and if you can supply me with a couple of guards from the firm I will be on the job in half a day. Shadow positions were created after the Wars when it became necessary for executives working in international firms to be on call 24 hours a day. Top talent is spread so thinly nowadays that an executive such as yourself must be making and receiving calls from all around the globe at all hours as the Earth turns.

"Little distinction is now made between 'working' and free time. I presume your sleeping quarters are in a room off this office and that you usually eat and exercise within this building or nearby. The corporation of today requires from its top-level executives complete commitment of all their time.

"Obviously, executives at your level need a secretary with a similar commitment. It would be too confusing to have three secretaries working in shifts, because of the time wasted bringing each one up to date as she came on duty. So Shadow positions require the executive assistant to be present at all times and work the same hours. As high level executives have normal sexual needs, and they do not have time to date or have a family, it is reasonable that secretarial positions at this level be rated as requiring sexual services. As I have no family, I am quite prepared to be your Shadow."

"Well put, Miss Thornton. I assume you have been interviewing elsewhere. Are you expecting any employment offers from any of our competitors?"

"I have received a number of letters of rejection. Some interviews I did not complete. Several firms have not replied."

"And you have been out of work for 10 weeks, correct?" As I say this I make eye contact. I can see a brief shadow of terror and I know I have her. We both know the law. To live in Central City you must be employed. If she doesn't find a position within the next two weeks, she will be forcibly deported to the Zones. Within fifteen minutes of arrival, she'll have a gun in her face and her back on a mattress. Maybe she thought at first it would be easy to get a new job. Now she's getting desperate.

"So, according to your work history as I understand it, you have never been asked to sexually service an executive, is that right?"


This is quite delicious. If I hire her, she will need instruction, perhaps even discipline.

"Can you tell me why you think you have not been offered any of the positions you have applied for? Your test scores are excellent, your references impeccable, you have experience at the executive level?"

"Yes, well, at three of the firms, I felt that the interviewer was being quite unprofessional."

"How so?"

"Because within a few minutes, I was ordered to remove my clothes. I declined to do so. Therefore, I was asked to leave and my applications were discarded."

"Well, I can see that such a request so early in the interview would be most improper. Still, at some point you must know that the interviewer would want to assess your sexual services skills?" There is an uncomfortable pause while she considers her answer.

"As I am an adult, I fully recognize my duty to comply with the requirements of the position as posted. I am quite willing to provide sexual services to my employer after I am hired, and I believe that I can completely fulfill those responsibilities. I understand very well that an executive working 24/7 will naturally need some sort of relief which he could not otherwise obtain due to his long hours of service. But I do not believe it is proper to expose myself prior to a offer of employment. Forgive me for saying this, but may I assume that you have, over these past few days, required all applicants to disrobe? Some of whom you had no intention whatsoever of hiring?"

"Yes." She had me there.

"So, you see, Mr. Forbush, not knowing whether or not you see me as a possibly successful applicant, to disrobe at this time might put me in a position of being unfairly taken advantage of."

"So should I ask you at this time to fully undress, you would naturally decline."


"Miss Thornton, let me speak perfectly frankly. You are undoubtedly the most qualified applicant, and I'm definitely interested. But if I do not hire you, who will? Do you really want to risk almost certain deportation to the Zones over such a small matter? I can hardly put myself in the position of buying a pig in a poke. On the one hand, you are saying you are willing to supply me with all the sexual services that I need or want over the next three years. My asking you for a bit of nudity in advance seems a small thing in comparison. How can we resolve this impasse?"

She has the solution at once. She is gratifyingly sharp!

"Mr. Forbush, I suggest a mutual proffer."

I nod, and take her into an adjoining room. I punch in my security code and Lizzie wakes up.

"Liz, Miss Thornton and I are going to make mutual proffers with regard to certain actions she is willing to undertake against my firm promise to hire her as my executive assistant for a term of three years. You have the contract in your memory."

"Certainly, Mr. Forbush. Which party will go first?" Liz says in that Scandinavian accent they give computers nowadays,

"I will, thank you Lizzie." Miss Thornton says. I love it that she thanks a computer.

"I proffer no nudity whatsoever and no touching." She is smiling.

"I counterproffer full nudity by both parties, extensive groping, hour's long performance of every sexual activity known to mankind." We're both laughing now.

"I proffer breast nudity, no touching." she says.

"Counterproffer full nudity, full touching, full posing, no intercourse."

"Proffering full nudity, no posing, no touching, no intercourse."

"Counterproffer full nudity, posing, no touching, no intercourse."

"Counterproffer accepted. Shall I remove my clothing now?"

"No." I have a little surprise for her. "Liz, I stipulate that the terms of the counterproffer have been accepted and that Miss Thornton has complied with them. Please print out two copies of the contract."

We sign. She looks very happy. It's only now that she can be sure that I really want her for my secretary. And my stipulation is a sign of trust.

"Miss Thornton, welcome to Consolidated! If you will come with me, I will show you our quarters."

Our living area is just off my office. She appears happy to see that she has her own bed next to mine, and her own bathroom. I make the call to arrange for two guards to come at noon to assist her in moving.

"Miss Thornton, as it is now short of ten AM, I have need of your services for the next two hours."


"Your sexual services."

She only blinks once. "Of course, sir. Are you considering fellatio, cunnilingus, coitis?"

Her pronunciation of these words is perfect, her voice level. Her suit coat is already off.

"I would think all three at one time or another. Let's see what develops."

She slides off her skirt and raises her hands to her peach blouse. "May I ask, sir, for just one thing?"


"Could you please be gentle? This is my first time." Her voice quavers ever so slightly.

"Of course."

I smile. I have found the perfect secretary.



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