First HR interview

The photo says it all... I love to play with others, especially my dear Indoctrinatrix.
Mr. Beauséjour was our victim, or rather our candidate for debauchery during a memorable session.
Here's his story.

—

I applied to a recruitment advert:
"Major crisis communications agency seeks experienced manager, with proven qualities of stress resistance, and great ability to adapt in real time to unforeseen situations".

I'm having my first interview today. 

Appointment at 3pm with the HRD's assistant, who welcomes me and asks me to sit opposite her in an office that looks like a cosy little lounge. Her hair is tied back, and she's wearing a strict black suit with a white shirt.

The interview begins. Little room for fantasy. The tone is cold, distant, administrative, without any warmth. Job description, standard questions, past experience, motivations. Then comes a short test. The assistant hands me some photos.
- These photos of one of our customers have leaked onto the Internet. What are you doing about it?
I discover a pretty blonde woman playing erotic games, in red and black panties and bra, surrounded by naked men. I have an idea:
- I contact a hacker on the dark web and ask him to delete the photos?
Assistant:
- Anything else?
- Uh... I'm issuing a press release to say that my client is a victim of deep fake ?
The assistant doesn't have time to reply, the door suddenly opens, the HRD bursts into the small lounge and turns her gaze on me while addressing her assistant:
- Didn't you get my memo this morning on new maintenance methods?
- No, Madam Director," replies the assistant, a little embarrassed.
The HRD continues:
- Well, you're about to find out, live, from your candidate, Monsieur... Beauséjour, isn't it?
- Yes, ma'am.
- Yes, Madam Director!" she corrects me instantly, before giving me an incongruous order. Stand up, take off a shoe.
I hesitate for a moment, not quite understanding the direction the interview is taking. From the look on her face, I know she's getting impatient. Once on my feet, I bend over and loosen my right shoe. The assistant observes the scene a little bemused. The HR manager clarifies:
- A candidate who claims to know how to resist destabilization, it's all very simple, it's tested in real-life conditions. No, no, stand up!" she said, just as I was about to sit down again. And take off your sock.
Strangely enough, I obey without any intention of opposing her will, as if remotely controlled by her clear, authoritative voice. Standing barefoot on the carpet in the small living room, I answer the assistant's next question, which the HR manager invites to continue the interview, before interrupting her a few seconds later:
- Now both feet bare.
The assistant hides a half smile, embarrassed. HRD:
- So what do you think of my new methods? You ain't seen nothing yet, aha!
The following order falls without delay:
- Take off your pants and shirt.
My breathing quickens. I carefully place my clothes on the chair behind me, I'm almost naked, I feel the fresh air on my back and without being asked, I straighten up my position, bare feet pressed together, hands along my thighs, as if I were preceding her demands.

The assistant takes a few more questions, the situation clouds my answers, my voice becomes hesitant, my ideas become imprecise... The HR manager notes this with an amused air, falsely astonished:
- Is something wrong?
She now comes and sits in my place, opposite her assistant, still sitting cross-legged on the little sofa. Here I am, in my underwear, between them. HR:
- Turn to face me.
My back is to the assistant.
- Take it off," says the HR manager, pointing to my underpants.
I then realize that as the last barrier of my modesty is lowered, the interview could very well progress without any limits, subject only to the HRD's desire. I'm not mistaken.
- Kneel down in front of me and stroke my leg, like a little dog, come on, hop hop hop!
I imagine the assistant at my back, not missing a beat as I start to move back and forth, sex glued to the HRD's calf, cheering me on.
- Harder, wank harder, come on little dog!
Tilting my pelvis ridiculously forward, I hear the assistant comment:
- These new methods are very instructive, Madame Director.

The HR manager puts an end to the canine masturbation session, thinking that an accessory would improve the scene. I now have a leather collar tied tightly around my neck and a black ball in my mouth, quite uncomfortable and making me drool from the first few seconds.
The HR manager hooks the leash onto the collar and orders me to follow her on all fours for a little tour of the room. The interview questions start up again, and I answer them while moving forward on my knees, held on a leash, and stammering incomprehensible words that make me drool a lot.
The HR manager is having fun making me repeat my answers, which makes her assistant laugh a lot. I can feel her gaze on my body, my eyes, my sex, as I now sit on my knees. 

I haven't seen anything yet. The HR manager hands me a vibrating anal plug with a remote control, which I have to take inside me and then hold on to, sitting firmly on it. She hands the remote control to her assistant and encourages her to discover all its functions.
I feel the vibrations intensify in my anus. I feel pleasure, or shame, I don't know, much to the delight of the assistant.

To spice up the interview, if you can still call it an interview, even though we're now in the middle of a BDSM session, the HR manager makes me repeat the phrase "I like my cock up my arse" more than thirty times.
I stammer these vulgar words while drooling gallons of drool.

The plug vibrates louder and louder, I squirm to my knees, roll my buttocks. Then comes a well-deserved break. The HR manager makes me stand up straight and spread my legs, right in front of her assistant, forcing me to display my sex in a submissive position, hands behind my head.

The HRD approaches me and spits repeatedly in my face, her spittle mingling with my drool, my face dripping and glistening with both our saliva. I must be masturbating at the same time.
- Come on, give me a hard-on for this cock! she says, before taking the ball out of my mouth and plunging a dildo into it up to the hilt.
I'm choking.
- Suck hard, like this, show me how you suck cock, you'll soon be doing nothing else here, you'll see, aha!
I have to lick the tip of the dildo, catch my breath but she suddenly pushes it back down my throat and gives intense, deep, suffocating, exhausting back-and-forth strokes. I suck like a machine, my mouth torn apart. Suddenly, I feel a cold liquid coming out of the dildo's glans... It's iced coffee, a senseless sensation.
The HRD bursts out laughing:
- You like my cum? Swallow it!

Then she makes me get on all fours, still at her assistant's feet, before mounting me on her back. I wonder what her imagination will come up with next.
I'm tired.
An absurd thought crosses my mind, and I almost validate his interview method: "It's genius, this situation, nothing other than a real test to go beyond one's limits, why not...".
My thoughts are interrupted by a totally unfamiliar sensation. I feel a warm liquid running down my back. I hear the HR manager laughing evilly.
- I'm sorry, I wanted to, aha!
I'd never been urinated on before. A new feeling of disgust mixed with excitement. His hot stream lasts for hours, urine running all over my back and around me.
I have to lie in his piss, on my back, and cum. I command it.

I came quickly, with an explosion of liberating spasms, under the astonished gaze of his assistant. 

Flonflon photo: with Indoctrinatrix in the Cruel Boudoir antechamber.