The Job Candidate

[adivie]

I have not written much, especially fetish stories. I thought I would try out a few here, first.

I was alone in the front office of the warehouse going through the books for The Boss. No one else was there as I was working the books for our “other” enterprises that The Boss liked to keep ‘under the radar’. With no one else around, there was no one who would question what I was working on so diligently.
The warehouse had its standard merchandise that was moved daily. However, our operations were funded by other means. The business had employees who worked there for years and felt like this place was a family, although The Boss and his crew, including me, had only bought the place a few years prior. Still, employees liked to think the “Open Door Policy” still existed and would come in at all times during the work-week to chat with me. Rather than fire them, chew them out, or even change the rules, I found it far easier to work the “other” books when the employees were not around.
I was working the works when I heard a young woman’s voice call out,
“Hello? Anybody here?”
My heart skipped several beats. Who was this woman? How did she get into the building? I thought I had locked the doors! I could hear her but I had not seen her, yet. I quickly hid behind an open door to a metal storage locker. I could hear her walk into the office as her shoes scuffled the floor and then she walked out.
I stepped out from my hiding place and thought of my options. I could hear the woman walking through the warehouse, thanks to her shoes clapping on the concrete floor. This lady was nosy and inquisitive.
I grabbed a bottle of chloroform from our samples box that we used to show potential buyers of our industrial pesticides. I was going to take care of this pest, for sure! Problem was I wanted to know why she was in the building, in the first place.
I decided to let her come to me. I crouched behind the open door to the front office. The woman explored the warehouse for what seemed like over an hour. What was she looking for at this place? Funny thing, however, I have, yet, to have laid eyes on her. I could only hear her walking around due to the noise her shoes made on the concrete floors.
Her steps, eventually, became louder as she approached the front doors of the building and the office. She decided to look inside the office last before leaving the building. Looking through the crack in the door, I was the woman enter the office. I quietly poured some chloroform onto a cloth rage. Once she had made it to the middle of the space, I quietly, but quickly, stood up and approached her from behind and wrapped one arm across her chest while pressing the cloth over her mouth and nose. She struggled hard at first but her struggles grew more feeble the more she breathed in the chloroform. After what seemed an eternity, the woman finally gave up the fight and went limp in my arms. I slowly lowered her to the floor.
The organization used handcuffs to securely lock the metal lockers by locking the cuffs around the handles. We always told people the lockers had dangerous chemicals. I unlocked a few pairs of handcuffs from the lockers. I handcuffed the woman’s hands behind her back. I handcuffed her feet next. I went to the desk, unlocked it, and removed the pistol. Now I waited for her to come around and clear her senses so I could proceed with my interrogation.
The woman was a lovely looking Caucasian lady, approximately 30-years old. She had dark brown hair, nice tan skin, and sleek slender body. Her hair was fixed into a ponytail on the middle back of her head. She had beautiful brown eyes.
The lady was wearing a nice white t-shirt, black skirt that stopped above the knees, and a black dress jacket. To complete the outfit, she wore black pantyhose and low black pumps with closed toes. She was dressed for business. Question was, why?
As she regained more of senses, she realized she was in trouble. She began looking around frantically before she began to focus onto me. She was terrified but she wanted to appear defiant.
“Why did you do this to me?”, she demanded.
“Why are you here?”, I asked. I rubbed the pistol under my chin to emphasize I had the gun.
She understood the hint.
“I am here the job interview your company posted for a secretary”, she told me.
I was baffled. I would have known if we were interviewing for any positions at the warehouse. Something was not right here. I told her as much.
She asked me to look in her purse. She had a form from an employment agency sending her to our address for a job interview, today. I did as she asked. I found the form from Starlite Experts Associates. True to her word, the form stated that she was to report at our address today for a job interview for secretary.
Something was not adding up right. I called my captain to inquire if any positions were being interviewed today. I explained what happened and the current situation. My captain agreed that no interview had been posted. Something was wrong. However, he was upset that I had apprehended the woman instead of just playing it off as a bad mistake and sending her on her way. The captain was still curious, like me, to really see if the woman was telling the truth.
I uncuffed her feet and helped her stand up. Once I was sure she was stable on her feet, I poked the pistol in her back to prod her out the door. I had her walk into the warehouse, away from the front and from potential spying eyes.
I brought her to the end column of one of our five-story shelving units. I hooked a pair of handcuffs on the railing about six and half feet up. I had a pair of cuffs to the left and right on the column. I uncuffed her wrists and stood back while holding the pistol aimed at her body. I instructed her to take off her jacket. I, then had her hook one wrist into one of the handcuffs. I hooked the other wrist into the other handcuff. She was now standing against the column in the “surrender” position. I, next, placed handcuffs on the railing near the floor. I removed her shoes and handcuffed her pantyhosed ankles to the column.
I went over to a desk near the loading docks and grabbed a pair of scissors. I returned to the woman and began my interrogation again. This time, I was going to get my answers.
“Who are you?” I asked.
She gave me her name along with repeating the job interview story. I wanted to know why she spent so long exploring the warehouse. She stated that she was looking anybody. I asked her how she got inside the warehouse. She stated that the doors were unlocked. I was dumbfounded as I swore I had locked the doors before working on the books. Could I have forgotten to lock the doors in my haste?
She was terrified and her voice was cracking. I was starting to get to her. Maybe the truth will come out. I repeated my questions only to get the same terrified answers.
I set the pistol down on the floor and approached the woman with the scissors. She got really scared as she knew I was going to stab her and end this for good.
Her shirt was tucked into her skirt. I pulled her shirt out from the skirt and placed the open blades of the scissors to the hem of the shirt. I slowly cut up the front of her shirt until I had it cut open. With both hands, I opened her shirt to reveal a nice, tight, white bra. She was trying her best to hold back tears.
Starting at the neck of the shirt, I cut across one short sleeve until the shirt dropped off her arm. Her shirt now hung by only one arm. I was going to take care of that the same way as before. I cut across from the neck of her shirt up the other short sleeve and let the shirt drop off her body. I yanked the tattered shirt from behind her and dropped it on the floor in front of her.
I pulled the top of her skirt out and placed the scissor blades against the material. I slowly cut down her skirt until I had cut the hem. I let the skirt fall to the ground. She was wearing a pair a lovely white panties.
I grabbed the top of the pantyhose and placed the material between the blades. I snipped and ripped my way down one leg. I repeated the performance on the other leg. I finished the job by cutting her pantyhose off around her ankles, leaving nylon socks on her feet. I removed these handmade “socks” last.
The woman was left standing in only her white bra and panties. She looked so good and helpless in that position with only her undies on.
I used the scissors to cut a length of cord used to bind boxes and crates for delivery. I frayed the end of the cord and knotted the ends. I had plenty of bare skin to play with here.
I resumed my interrogation with the same questions. When I received the same answers, I would hit her with the cord. She yelled and cried in pain. I was going to get my answers. However, she was still giving the same responses and would not deviate from her story no matter how many times I hit her or how hard I hit her.
I decided to increase the pressure on her. I grabbed a power hose from the wall. It was the hose used to power wash the floors during our periodic floor cleanings. The hose was pointed at her and turned on. The woman was soaked, thoroughly, with cold water, plus, the pressure made it nearly impossible to breathe. After a few blasts, she was still sticking with her story.
I had been at this interrogation for hours now. Her story had not changed. She was a sobbing wreck of a person. She could hardly hold herself up. I called my captain to tell him the results. He agreed that she was probably telling the truth but we were still puzzled as to who would put an employment ad out to the agency who sent the woman.
The captain told me to set her free from the restraints but not to let her go. He would be by with some men to take her away so we would not have to hear about the methods used to question her. I felt sorry for her as she was innocent but, somehow, got caught up, unintentionally, in our enterprises.
I uncuffed her from the column and walked her back to the front office. She was shivering and sobbing uncontrollably. She sat down in a chair, grabbed her purse, and started putting its contents back into it.
I was on the phone again with the captain to explain that we were waiting for him when I was hit with an extremely painful shock to the back. I dropped to the floor onto my knees. I was stunned and surprised in addition to the pain. I was hit with a painful shock to the back of the neck that dropped me completely face-down onto the floor.
As I slowly looked up, the woman was standing over me with a taser in her hands. It had been disguised as a brush handle from her purse. She had an evil smile on her face. I knew, immediately, it meant it was my turn to pay. She placed my arms behind my back and cuffed my wrists with a pair of handcuffs I had left on the desk.
She worked her way through the office, searching our computers and desks. She had tools she used to pick the locks on our cabinets and storage lockers. She grabbed binders and files from the cabinets. She also copied files from the computers. The woman put her shoes on and grabbed a jacket left by an employee during the winter. Before leaving, she made a call telling the person on the other end that she found what they were looking for and a lot more. She looked at laying on the floor and bid me farewell and good luck before exiting.
I was stunned and weak. I tried to free myself from the cuffs but the shock of the taser had rendered my body uncooperative. I knew I was in trouble with The Boss. I should just resign myself to what will happen next.