[b][u][center]An Interview from the Heart
By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]








You could get a surprising amount of clients if you were a switch, as Matt had found out. However, that meant that you were a little less interesting in other arenas, and the polar bear just hoped that the interviewer for Triple-S didn’t feel the same as some of his more ‘difficult’ clients did. 

[i]Just relax,[/i] the seven-foot-tall, barely-dressed, barely-not-hyperventilating polar bear told himself. [i]Just relax. They called you for a second interview, which means they liked the video you sent in. All you gotta do is be yourself. That’s what they keep saying for these shows, right?[/i]

Matt couldn’t make himself believe it. Reality shows might reflect a portion of the personality of their contestants, but even as a mega-fan of Triple-S, he didn’t believe that it was half as real as it portrayed itself as being. The sheer insanity of it, the over the top way that the competitors behaved, the fact that the show kept finding ways of shifting people to declare whether they were tops or bottoms: it had to be down to the editing or something, or people getting casually scripted here and there rather than true reality. 

He wouldn’t even be trying this if it hadn’t been for some of his clients pushing him to test his luck. Some that had fucked his ass right into the ground had insisted that he had what it took to be a best bottom on the show, while those that rode his dick swore that he could fuck the competition right out the door. Matt wasn’t sure that he believed either of them, really, but he must have believed them enough to be interesting, because - 

“Matt Behr?”

Jumping out of his chair as his name was called, the polar bear nearly jammed his head into the ceiling. He grunted as he came back down, rubbing the top of his head as he looked at the door on the other side of the room. 

A lemur stood in the doorway on the far side of the room, dressed from the waist up in a fancy suit, and from the waist down, in nothing but a cock ring and toe rings. He smiled at Matt, and Matt awkwardly smiled back. 

“Mr. Behr?”

“Yes, that’s me,” he said, nodding. “Sorry, just, uh...stuck in my own head.”

“That’s fine. Come on in.”

He’d been wondering if he’d come a little underdressed, but as the lemur didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that he was in nothing more than a latex thong, one that made his balls feel bigger than they were and which barely restrained his dick, he tried to put it out of his mind. Confidence had been lacking since he got all the stares in the parking lot. Sex work might be more legal these days, but that didn’t mean that everyone paid them a good mind, or even no mind. Chubbier guys like him got it even worse. 

The ‘office’ was little more than a square room with a desk and two chairs, though the desk looked a little more advanced than average. At the very least, it looked like it had a lot of panels on it. The lemur sat down on the other side, and he was gestured to do the same. He did, squirming a little to get comfortable. 

“My name’s Saul, and you can call me Slut or Master, whichever fits you.”

“And if I just call you Saul?”

“Heh, then we’ll go with that,” the slender, striped man said as he got comfortable. “Now, we saw in your video that you’re mostly a call-guy, going from gig to gig. Mind telling me what made you choose that, instead of going into a brothel or keeping to the street-walking work?”

“Mostly keeping a sense of control, I guess?” He rubbed the back of his head. “I kinda started before this all got legalized. Making sure I knew who I was working with, keeping it more anonymous, that was really important back then. I guess I just prefer to make sure to keep things safe.”

“Did something happen to make you so cautious, or -”

“No, no, nothing bad,” Matt said, shaking his head. “Just...you know. All the stories.”

“So...no trauma or anything like that?”

“Not...yet?”

“I see.”

The lemur pulled out a notebook, scribbling something in it. The polar bear did his best not to change expression. Whether that was something good or bad, he knew from past interviews that trying to change his answer would just make him look worse. He did, however, shuffle more nervously than he’d like from side to side in his chair. 

“So, aside from the gig work, what else have you done as a sex worker?”

“Um, did some phone work for a while. Not a lot; never was much good with the dirty talk part of things.”

“More of a mover than a talker?”

“Kinda, yeah. It’s just...ya know. A little easier to talk with the body. Lots of clients like to talk about why they’re doing it. Some of ‘em feel guilty, some of ‘em want to talk themselves up. But it’s just a bunch of bullshit. They want sex, and they shouldn’t feel bad about that. I don’t want to listen to ‘em lie to themselves. I just want to get it done.”

“It sounds like you aren’t too fond of your job. Is that true?” the lemur asked, his head cocked to the side curiously.

“Well...it’s more like I don’t like clients like that. I mean...sex is...fun.” 

“Of course.”

“But you wouldn’t think that, the way that some of ‘em behave. Something to feel guilty about, something to get angry about, something to teach someone a lesson with. Sex is sex. I just, you know, get frustrated.”

Saul nodded, making another mark. Matt couldn’t help but feel that he was sinking himself here, that he needed to amp himself up for something a little more dramatic, but how? He led a very normal sort of life outside his sex work. He wasn’t some drama queen, didn’t have any of those shrieking moments that some of the bottoms that had been on the show had. He wasn’t gay, wasn’t straight. He was bi, he was a gig worker, and he didn’t really have much to show for that in terms of drama. It was pretty middle of the road, far as he was concerned. 

“One more question, Mr. Behr.”

[i]Oh boy.[/i] “What?”

“If you could give any advice to another sex worker - or to the world, for that matter - what would it be? Imagine that you made it all the way to the finals, and you had the world’s attention. What would you say?”

“...Seriously? That’s the last question?”

“Heh, I’m sure that’s not what you’d be saying to the world, Mr. Behr.”

“No, but - seriously?”

“I’ve got a pretty good read on your personality and your style, Mr. Behr. Or, Matt, sorry. I want to know what you’d say to people. It gives me an idea of how you think, and how you’d compete.”

Matt stared at the lemur for a moment, then forced himself to try and come up with an answer. If this really was the last question, then he needed to make sure that he got this one right. It might be his last chance to rescue this interview. 

“What would I say to the world?” he asked, shaking his head. “I’d say...think with your crotch a little more. Stop thinking about the stuff your head tells you, stop listening to what your heart tells you, and start listening to what your dick tells you. Or your pussy, or ass, or whatever. Listen to it, because it knows what you want right now. 

“Gay, straight, bi, pan, ace; we all have different needs, but we all have ‘em. So, instead of pushing people to do something they don’t want, instead of getting all pissed off and pretending that you don’t like something when you do, just listen to your genitals and go get it done. Find one of us. We don’t bite, we don’t hurt you, we don’t do anything that you don’t ask us to do. 

“Look at us. We’re the people that come out and give you what you want. We’re your therapists. We’re where you go to get off. We’re the people that make things better, even if it’s only for a little while. We’re the ones that let you be the most honest, experimental, awesome you that you can be. So, maybe start looking at us like less of the bad guys, the thieves, the cheaters, and more like the people we are.

“We’re sex workers. We aren’t demons, and we’re a hell of a lot closer to being angels than most of the people you know.”

Matt didn’t know where half of those words came from, but they came from as close to the heart as he could find. Now, he just had to hope that they didn’t sound nearly as sanctimonious as he thought they did. 

Saul looked him square in the eyes for nearly a minute, saying nothing, writing nothing. Then the lemur closed his notebook without writing another word. He stood up, and he walked around the desk, and Matt wondered if he was going to be kicked out of the room right then and there. 

[i]Shouldn’t have said that. I should have just said something sappy, or dramatic, or sassy, or -[/i]

“I guess I have one more question,” Saul said. 

“What’s that?”

“When I tell you that you’re on the show, do you want to celebrate as a top, or a bottom?” 

“...” Matt’s breath caught in his throat, and it only got worse when he heard the soft click that came afterward, the door behind him locking. He spun around, looking the lemur right in the eye. “I’m on the show?”

“Heh, I just said that, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but...but…”

“Hey, it’s not all about drama. Half the show’s about heart. Well, a third. One-third heart, one-third drama, one-third fucky-fucky-fuck. And we’re short on hearts this season, so you just rammed your way in like a dick going up a virgin bottom. So, how do you want to celebrate? On top?” Saul turned, running his hand down his ass, raising his tail. “Or on bottom?” he asked, turning and running his other hand over a surprisingly large cock as it started rising up.

“...Both?” 

“You switches. Greedier than any bottom.” Saul chuckled. “Alright, but let’s be quick. I have one more interview in an hour…”












[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]

Summary: Applying for a sex worker reality show is a bit tricky. Getting through the interview, when you don’t think that you have that much personality, is even trickier. 

Tags: M/solo, no sex, bulge, nudity, cock ring, sex worker, prostitute, reality show, interview, lemur, polar bear, nerves, thong,