I don’t like Mr. Grayson. His words send a shiver through my body, and there is a cruelty to his behavior that is insidious and cold. Derek regards him with a tightly set jaw while the other men look on, waiting for me to respond. And I do. Perhaps Derek was right after all. This feels far less like a choice, and far more like forced humiliation.
I reach down with one hand, and using my middle and index fingers, I gently pull the skin surrounding my sex apart. Mr. Grayson whispers “good girl” in my ear before standing and moving away from me. Derek glances briefly at my exposed vagina before returning his eyes to mine with a now bored look on his face. He’s obviously not impressed. The two other men in the room have been sitting idly by watching the events unfold, but with little interest. It’s a glaring reminder that these types of interviews likely occur often here, and while this might be the most terrifying day of my life, it is just another bland day in their world.
Mr. Grayson looks at one of the men, a staunch and thick looking man, and speaks. “Aaron, why don’t you check her over for us, will you?”
Aaron stands and approaches me. He’s not at all handsome, and he’s terrifyingly big. He’s more ogre than man, and as he leans over me from the side of the chair, my heart hammers in my chest. He reaches a large, thick hand out to my waiting body. I inadvertently recoil for a moment before I remember I won’t win any points for being frigid. I need this job whether I want it or not. I force myself to hold still as Derek continues to watch me, and as the ugly man touches my exposed vagina, I freeze in fear and swallow hard over the lump in my throat.
He presses one very fat finger into my vagina as I gasp at the intrusion. My expression, if my emotions are reaching my face at all, must look absolutely disgusted. His finger fills my entry and distends the skin of my hole. It’s uncomfortable, and the sight of his finger in my body makes me want to vomit. He slides his finger in and out of my entry as the men regard the sight of me being finger-fucked by him, and as I look up, I catch Derek’s tongue pass quickly over his bottom lip as he focuses on my penetration. But whatever thought passed through his mind is gone in an instant as he catches me watching him, and the look of abject hatred firmly returns to his face.
The ugly man finally finishes with my body and thankfully moves away from me as I breathe a desperate sigh of relief. He looks at Derek and comments, “She’s tight as hell. Not sure what’s not to like about that cunt.”
Derek returns the comment, not taking his eyes off mine. “How about the fact that that cunt has never been fucked? I don’t have any interest in virgins, least of all those with small tits that look more like a boy than a woman.”
He watches me as humiliation floods my body. I can feel my cheeks flush, and the first twitches of impending tears hit my eyes as I try very hard to restrain the emotion that threatens to boil over and leave me sobbing in front of these men. I cannot allow that to happen.
Mr. Grayson dismisses Derek’s comments as he stands to leave, and as he reaches the door of the room, he turns back to me once more, still sitting with my legs spread wide and my fingers on my vagina. “It was good to meet you, Ashton Monroe. Can’t wait to get into that tight little pussy of yours. Once Derek’s broken you in, I think I’ll make him watch as I fuck you.” And with an evil wink, he exits the room.
The moment he’s gone from the room, I right my body, close my legs, and clasp my hands in my lap in a pathetic attempt at modesty. With Mr. Grayson gone, ugly Aaron speaks to Derek first. “Don’t know why you’re pushing back so hard on this one. She’s gonna feel like a fucking vise grip when you fuck her.”
Derek returns the comment with his irritation and anger still showing. “Like I said, she doesn’t belong here. She’s a fucking virgin.”
“Well, if you do your damn job, by tomorrow, she won’t be, and not all men prefer experienced, voluptuous, loud sluts. Some of them actually like a docile whore.”
Derek bites back at that comment. “Yeah, the type of men who like to dominate women.”
Now it’s Aaron’s turn to retort. “Like you? Like every other man who walks through our doors. Is there suddenly something wrong with dominant men around here?”
In a voice just a bit too loud for the room, Derek responds, “The type of men that will be attracted to her are not the type of clients that we want. She’s too small, and she’s not the least bit feminine. She’s shy, she’s quiet … hell, she practically looks like a child. She will attract men that want to victimize and humiliate her. Our other women are bold, brazen, and slutty as hell. They are the very definition of a whore, and they can take care of themselves.” Nodding a disgruntled head in my direction, he adds in an even louder voice that borders on yelling, “She can’t!”
“Well then, I guess you’ll just have to do your job and look out for her.” This comes from the quiet man who hasn’t spoken a word yet and has been sitting benignly by watching the events unfold.
“I have better things to do with my time than babysit a child.” He gives me one more disgusted look and a shake of the head before leaving without another comment.
I’m left sitting naked in the room with ugly Aaron and quiet man. Ugly Aaron gives me one final appraising look before exiting the room. Quiet man decides now is the time to make his introduction. He is brown-haired, tall, and easy to look at. His eyes are soft and gentle, and his voice is calm and pleasant. The look in his eyes reassures me that he means me no harm. He hands me my folded clothing, asking me to dress.
As I take the clothes and start pulling them back on, so thankful for the security they bring, the man speaks. “My name is Frederick. Welcome to Trimbles, Ashton. I’d tell you Derek will warm up to you, but he doesn’t really do warm. But regardless of how he behaved today, you should breathe easy for the time being.” I watch and listen to Frederick as I hastily dress. “As you may have noticed, Derek and Grayson have a past … they don’t particularly like one another. In fact, it’s probably more than fair to say they despise one another. The reason behind that is of little consequence to you, and as you may have also gathered, Mr. Grayson absolutely used you to get at Derek. Derek wants nothing to do with you, and I’m sorry for that. He can be … difficult; but, for all of Mr. Grayson’s scheming, he failed to realize that he put you in exactly the place you need to be. You’re in good hands with Derek, even if that may be difficult to see. He’s fair, and he’ll look after you … whether he wants to or not.” He gives me one final nod before standing to exit. As he reaches the door, he turns to me once more. “You know, Derek’s right. You’ll attract attention. Whether it ends up being the right kind of attention remains to be seen. He might have been harsh in making that clear to you, but it’s a fact you need to understand.” And with that, he’s out the door.
As I sit in the room alone waiting for whatever will happen next, I replay the events of the last week. Tumultuous and terrifying ordeals are not new to me at this point. When the men, thugs for all intents and purposes, caught up to me at the waitressing gig I had just landed a mere two weeks prior, I bolted out the back door. Don’t get me wrong, waitressing was not my forte, and within the first week alone, I’d managed to spill a drink in a man’s lap, forgot to turn in a customer’s order, and served countless people countless wrong meals. It was not my calling. So, perhaps I should have been happy to see the men, the mysterious strangers who always seem to catch me off guard when I least expect it. But I’m never happy to see them. They come with heavy fists and threats, and they are never a welcome sight.