I checked my watch for the third time in the last ten minutes. My interviewee should be here in any moment. I eyed the laid out employment contract on the table; her name was Sarah McCoy, a Yale graduate with double degree in Law and Business and only at the tender age of twenty five. In addition to the impressive resume, Sarah was also gorgeous. And I meant the other-women-get-jealous-of-her kind of gorgeous. I could see why Mr. V wanted her so badly…
For something that had nothing to do with her impeccable undergraduate results.
Needless to say, I was beyond a shadow of a doubt that Ms. McCoy might not be as forthcoming to assume the dedicated position Mr. V had in mind for her. No, she would probably tear the contract and slapped a schedule IV sexual harassment lawsuit against the company. And that was to be expected. If I was proposed to such a degrading role, I would have filed a sexual harassment lawsuit too.
However, Mr. V expected results from me I had no intention of disappointing him. Whatever means necessary. His words rang in my head. Illegal or not, none matters if it could promise results. I had of course laid out my plan to Mr. V. I would never proceed with something so vile without the backings of my employer. And without hesitation, Mr. V gave me the green light.
A knock came from the door. Just about time. I took out my phone and typed in a short message.
“You may come in.” I called out.
Ms. McCoy poked her head through a small gap of the door she opened. “Hi. Good morning.” she said curtly. She sounded out of breath. Beads of sweat covered her forehead.
“Have a seat, Ms. McCoy.” I gestured at the swivel chair in front of me.
She slid herself in as though the door couldn’t be opened any wider and then politely closed the door. Too politely, as if she could break the door if she moved too hard. She scuttled across the office to the chair, eyes at everywhere but mine. I shook my head slightly. We may have a shy girl on our hand.
She took the seat and placed her poor excuse of a handbag on her lap. I scowled at the offending handbag; no doubt it was made of fake leather bought at Wallmart’s discount section. She unbuttoned her coat and straightened her blouse briefly before forcing herself to look at my eyes. I wanted to sigh in exasperation. She wasn’t only shy, she was poor too.
But that’s all about to change soon.
“Hot weather?” I started.
Her face flushed scarlet as she fanned herself with her hand.
“Yeah.” she muttered.
“Anyway, thank you for coming.”
“It’s a pleasure.”
“Would you like some tea?” I offered with a smile.
“No thank you. I’m fine.” she shook her head humbly.
“Rest assured, it’s of no trouble.” I slid my hand into my handbag and skimmed my finger against the smooth glass vial inside. “Besides, I am getting a cup for myself too.”
I grabbed the vial and walked to the small galley, making sure she could not see what I was planning on giving her. I poured two cups of the tea I made earlier, slipped in the content of the vial in one of them, threw the vial into the garbage can, and brought the two steaming cup of tea to the table.
“Thank you.” she gave me a wry smile and took the spiked tea I gave her.
“You are welcome.” I took my seat and placed the cup of tea on the desk. She did the same. “Let’s discuss on your employment.” I began and then went on explaining about the benefits and her monthly salary. As I leveled out one benefit after another on her, her eyes widened more and more.
“Y-you are giving me a m-million dollar a year.” she stammered in disbelief. Yeah, I was in disbelief too when I saw the list of benefits. But considering her job scope, the obscene amount was actually justified.
“Yes.” I said with a smile.
“And you are giving me a car.” she was trembling in excitement now. The shaking was obvious as she picked up the cup, the china set clattering against each other, and took a sip of the tea. I couldn’t help but smile.
“And dental care, health care, insurance, an apartment and annual bonuses, as stated previously.” I said. “Mr. V has great expectations from you.” Great. Expectations.
She took another sip of her tea as she contemplated. When she put the cup down, her brows burrowed to a frown. “This is not a joke, right?”
“No. Sarah. This is not a joke.” I leaned forward and rested my chin on my clasped hands.
“But why…why me?” When I raised a brow she quickly added. “Don’t get me wrong, Ms. Mitchell. I appreciate the offer a lot. But I’m just a fresh graduate.”
“A very talented fresh graduate.”I shrugged. Her academia was gold class, that I couldn’t deny.
“Still, a million dollar?” she hissed. “Isn’t my position a junior executive in legal department?”
“Yes.” I nodded slowly. “But Mr. V has other proposition for you too.”
“What sort of prop…” she swallowed. The scarlet returned to her face. The drug was taking effect. “…proposition.”
“Oh…” I waved my hand dismissively. “This and that.”
“C-can you be m-more specific?” she swallowed again. Her eyes looked around erratically. She slowly moved her hands from the desk and pressed them against her thighs. Her ears were in a brighter shade than a braking light.
“I’ll give you a hint, Sarah.” I stood up and leaned forward until my lips were merely inches from her ear. “It involves you getting naked.”
She jerked her head back as if she had been scalded with hot water. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her throat flexed. Her breathing was quick and shallow; sounded like a bitch in heat, desperate for her next fix.
“I’m s-sorry. C-can I use the r-restroom.” she stood up shakily and reached for the door.
“Oh, I have a better place for you.” I intercepted her. One arm around her waist, I guided her away from the door she came in from. She put up some resistance, mild at best. The drug was more potent that I thought. I brought her to the double door that led to a small conference room where important business ventures were discussed, signed and approved. Today, it was not a conference room.
White clothes hung from all sides, a utilitarian florescence light casting ample light onto the king sized bed beneath, large filming lights scattered purposefully for better lighting, it looked nothing like the conference room I knew. Hell, if I didn’t know I any better, I would have thought I walked into the wrong room. A grin tugged my mouth. The company conference room looked exactly like a film set.
“About time.” A thick French accent grumbled. Pierre glanced at his watch with a mock displease when he saw me.
Pierre was shrewd man with a neatly cut pepper and salt hair, wearing an oversized glasses that provided no medical purpose, only aesthetics, donned in a pair of designer t-shirt and jeans that looked like he was shooting for a Runway show. He was hot looking, even for my standard. Unfortunately, he was also gay.
“You ready?” I asked him.
“R-ready for w-what…” Ms. McCoy slurred. Her body was already burning up from the drug induced arousal.
“I’m always ready.” Pierre winked. “All right people, move to you positions.” he turned and clapped his hands loudly.
“P-please…I-I need t-to…” she hitched as she clamped her legs together.
“I know what you need, darling.” I whispered to her. Oh and I know how badly you need it. “Strip now, Sarah.”
“W-what…n-no…” her voice meek and breathless.
“You know you want it.” I purred, urging her to obey. “Strip everything and lie on the bed.”
She limped and then whimpered in defeat. After a brief moment of hesitation, she removed her coat and threw it onto the ground.
“Good girl.” I nudged her back and ushered her forward. When I let go of her, she continued to walk towards the bed, her fingers busily unbuttoning her blouse. I stood there, arms folded, and observed the girl as the drug eroded her rationality. I could see the dilemma, the fight against the drug. And she’s loosing the battle as each button became unfastened.
“Make it good.” I said to Pierre, whom was delegating work between the five cameramen.
“I will not disappoint.” he smirked.
“You better not be. Mr. V deosn’t wish to see his five hundred thousand dollar investment go down the drain.” I reminded.
“His money is well spent.” the man then turned to his crew and barked off a string of french. The crew dispersed and went to their set position.
When I turned my attention back to Ms. McCoy, she was already down to her panties. Her nipples were hard and fully erected, pink and begging to be suckled. I watched her shaking hands reached for the final piece of garment. Her fingers slid into the waist band. There was a hesitation, as though she suddenly realized this was not right. But her rationality was quickly dragged back under by the effect of the drug and she removed the panties in a swift movement.
Two cameramen were already in place to capture the moment at two separate angle. One was taking the shot from a distance. One was focusing on the red wet lips between her legs. Every motion was recorded with high definition setting, capturing every sordid details of the girl’s arousal in a continuous stream. Three more stood at their vantage points as they pointed their DSLR cameras to capture the deed in snapshots. Clear and crisp snapshots.
Ms. McCoy tossed the plain yellow panties to the floor. Her other hand glided down her bare stomach and then between her legs. She turned to one of the camera, her eyes widen momentarily, before she sank back into the fog of ecstasy as she smiled and spread her legs further, allowing more visibility to her private region.
I was utterly amazed by the potency of the drug yet again. The girl, a Yale graduate with a practically boring sex life, was now completely uninhibited, touching herself in front of cameras. A complete slut that was begging for her holes to be filled and ravaged. My lips curved into a tight smile. A drug like this should be banned from the face of Earth. I couldn’t imagine myself under the influence of the drug, losing my sense of control over my body.
“Oh god. I-it feels so g-good.” a loud squealed pulled my attention back to the girl.
Two fingers were already inside her moist opening, prodding the sensitive flesh with a rhythmic motion. She grabbed her breast with her other hand as she moaned and groaned and writhed at the raw pleasure of her masturbation.
Cameramen maneuvered among themselves, recording the explicit footage with due diligence. Pierre was right. The crew was ready to take the task. Though to be fair, I wasn’t expecting anything less from him. He was a renown pornography director. Shooting a three part, two hours each, pornographic film shouldn’t be hard for him. Especially when the sole actress was so compliant.
I stood a few steps back when I realized I was about to be in the way of one of the cameramen. With the recording going as scheduled, I pulled out my phone and sent a message to Mr. V.
The shooting is in progress.
A short while later, my phone pinged.
I slid my phone back into my pocket and continued my supervision over the shooting. Since it was going to be hours before the first part ends, I took one of the swivel chair by the wall and sat on it.
It was going to be an interesting day.