10 comments/ 44811 views/ 15 favorites Banking Privately By: Arkrhu Elizabeth looked up at the large building that occupied the the corner lot of Tyson and Millbury St. The building was of early modern design with large masonry walls. A large arch in the main facade dominated the view and was filled with opaque windows framed in iron bars. It looked solid, masculine and professional. It had the dominating and powerful feel of a bank. Elizabeth pulled a letter from her purse and checked the address just to be sure. There was nothing on the walls of the building to advertise what it was. Returning the paper to her purse, she took a deep breath, then marched up the few short steps to the front door. Her four inch heels clicked loudly, echoing off the front wall of the bank and the sound made her feel small. A security camera was looking down on the steps and Elizabeth felt as if the building itself was ogling her. When Julian had been laid off it had forced Elizabeth out of the house and back into the workforce. She had been all over Baltimore looking for a job. As the weeks passed the young couple watched their savings drain away. If something didn't change soon, they would lose the house. Desperation was starting to build. If this job didn't work out, Elizabeth might have to start looking at jobs that were borderline degrading. Elizabeth saw her reflection in the mirrored glass doors and confidence filled her. She was dressed smart and this time, she would not be turned away. Her honey blond hair was in a tight bun and her makeup was subtle. She wore a fitted dress topped with an artful pair of folded and sculptured cap sleeves. It's dark brown color gave her an air of professionalism. Accessorized with a black belt and silver buckle clasping around her slender waist allowing her legs to appear even longer. The top of the dress didn't reveal cleavage but the shape of her ample and firm breasts was highlighted by the close fitting garment. Her thin waist and round hips, a classic hourglass figure, gave a powerful signal of her sexuality. Today, she wanted to almost seduce an employer. The way in which Julian had looked at her as she left the house let Elisabeth know she would attract the attention of any man she encountered. Her hemline stopped just above her knee and her long legs, with shapely calves and slim ankles were glossed over in a pair of fine nylons tinting her legs a soft mocha color. The dress loosened as it fell from her hips allowing the hem to dance over her knees with each step. Her neck was adorned in a slim gold chain and heart pendant, and a watch was all that she wore on her wrist. Elizabeth smiled at her reflection as she pulled open the door. She had managed to walk the fine line between business professional and cocktail party and she felt good about how she presented herself. Now Elizabeth planned to use every ounce of her feminine form to convince a would be employer that he wanted to see her at work, every day. Elizabeth was surprised at what she found inside. The mirrored doors had cloaked the interior from view and Elizabeth wasn't sure if she had entered a bank or a prison. The entry had looked vast from the outside but she found herself in a room no larger than a typical bedroom. The grey wall was blank except for a window of thick one way glass. There was a small counter at the base of the window and a steel circle with tiny holes for a speaker sat where counter and window met. Worse it was cold. A drastic temperature change from the warm and sunny air she had just walked in from. The thin fabric of her dress offered little warmth and she felt her arms break out into gooseflesh. More annoyingly, her nipples stood out hard pitching tiny tents into the fabric, dispite her bra. A brassy male voice squelched from the speaker as she entered. "May I help you?" "I'm here for a job interview." Elizabeth said to the glass. "I am supposed to see Mr. Grant." Elizabeth felt confused and disoriented and her confidence dropped off a little bit. She had expected a warmer greeting, both in personality and ambient temperature.Suddenly a dull buzzing noise and a door that she hadn't noticed opened. A security guard wearing a white shirt and black pants emerged and gestured her to step inside. Elizabeth moved to the door. As her legs slid past each other in the motion of walking, the sound of her pantyhose rasping against her thighs seemed like a crescendo of noise punctuated by her heels clicking loudly on the hard floor. She saw the guard's eyes dart to her legs and then back up to her chest and Elizabeth could feel him undressing her with his thoughts. Elizabeth felt a new thrill dance down her spine. It wasn't cold or nerves but the sudden arousal brought on by the thought of this large powerful guard stripping her clothes off her and thrusting his thick cock between her legs. Elizabeth shook the thought from her head. It had surprised her with its suddenness and almost violent action. Had it been that long? Elizabeth tried to remember the last time she and Julian had made love. Julian had been out of work for five months and she knew it had been much longer than that. Julian was a small man, in stature and in more important area of length and girth. He was also rather effeminate and his lovemaking was clumsy and meek. This had caused Elizabeth to become the dominating force in the relationship, which was fine for a while but truly Elizabeth wished to be dominated. She wanted a man to take control, strip her clothes off and then have his way with her. Thinking about it now made Elizabeth blush with excitement and she could feel her panties getting wet. The door closed behind her with a sharp bang and Elizabeth was forced out of her thoughts. She found another guard dressed the same. The small room looked like airport security with a full size metal detector and x-ray machine. She saw another man, seemingly relaxing in an office chair, who manned the small desk with a mic for the one way glass. His eyes also danced over Elizabeth and she felt a surge of adrenaline knowing that every man in the room was eyeing her legs and breasts. "Please remove your shoes and place them with your bag in the tray." Said the guard that had escorted her in. His voice was commanding and it held a tone that warned of consequences if one did not obey him. He held a grey plastic tray out. Elizabeth hesitated briefly then placed her bag in the tray. While standing she slipped her feet out of her pumps with a soft "zop!" as each nylon heel slid across the interior of her shoe. Bending at the knees and keeping them together, Elizabeth squatted down and snagged her heels. The hem of her dress still slid up her thighs as she squatted and she caught a guard tilting his head to get a better look. Elizabeth stood quickly then placed her shoes in the tray. She was relieved that the floor looked clean as she stepped carefully toward the metal detector. Elizabeth was embarrassed that the dark reinforcement of her nylons were now on full display. The dark nylons gave her legs a creamy sheen that turned into a glossy reflection at the thicker weave of the the reinforced toes. Her mother had always told her it wasn't ladylike to walk about publicly in stocking feet. Her crimson toenail polish managed to show through the nylons and her audience focused their attention on her feet. As she passed through the the detector there was a loud beep and Elizabeth cringed. She was about to turn and go back when the guard motioned her to keep walking. In a stuttering of movement she pressed forward until she faced a fourth guard standing between her and the door.. She stood rigid in front of him, unsure of what to do next. "Miss, at this point we will need to conduct a further inspection. This is voluntary and if you choose not to submit, you will simply be asked to depart the building." His voice sounded bored and the speech was rehearsed. His eyes still managed to wander down to her bust and back to her face. "For the privacy of our clients and integrity of Boaz & Lorentz, I must inspect you for any recording devices, wires, or other means of broadcast. This inspection will require me to place my hands on your person. Do you agree to this inspection at this time?" The second part of his speech came out a bit more sharp. Elizabeth could tell there was a sharp warning in his voice. She could see the fingers of his hands rolling over the wand as if he were fondling it in the same way he wanted to fondle her. She was hesitant to allow him to touch her. "Can I just tell you that I don't have any of those things?" Elizabeth said, attempting her most innocent and sweet voice. "Do you agree?" The guard said firmly. If she said no, they would turn her away. This job was the best prospect she or Julian had found in almost four months. Julian's unemployment was almost out and then they would be in ruin. Elizabeth took a deep breath and reminded herself that these were professional men. There were cameras all around the room. The wouldn't do anything illegal. "Yes." she squeaked. Elizabeth had wanted to respond calmly as if nothing was wrong but was unable to keep the worry out of her voice. The guard almost allowed a smile to form on his face. He set the large wand used to sweep over a person on the metal table next to him. Elizabeth realized that he was going to skip the process of pinpointing the offending metal and just feel her until he found it. "Spread your feet shoulder width apart, place your arms out with your palms up. " Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat. The command in his voice was firm and she felt herself obeying before she could think about it. Elizabeth took a wide stance with her legs and extended her arms. The guard reached out and put his hands on her, just under her armpits. Elizabeth tried not to gasp as that thrill once again danced along her spine. Slowly the guard slid his large hands down her flanks. His hands gripped her body and Elizabeth could feel her whole dress tug downward as he frisked her. He squeezed in pulses as he moved his hands down her body. His hands brushed over her bra and her nipples hardened at the thought of him shifting to cup her tits in his hands. The guard continued downward until his hands reached her waist. With the same gripping squeeze he slid to her firm tummy. Elizabeth almost gasped when the motion reversed and the slow gripping started up toward her breasts. His hands were just under her breasts and Elizabeth was about to say something but caught herself. What was the point of stopping now? So what if this bastard wanted to feel her up. It wouldn't be the first time. Elizabeth steeled herself and resolved to have him reported. After she had the job of course. The guard stopped short of grabbing her tits and Elizabeth was surprised. He then moved around behind her and she that one of the other guards was smiling at her. She also noticed that there was a large bulge in his pants and she looked away, her cheeks flushed. Elizabeth reminded herself that she needed this job, and once she had it, she'd see to it that these men were fired. Let them look for work in this economy! Elizabeth jumped when the guard behind her spoke. His lips were very close to her ear and she had not be expecting his commanding voice so close. "We've had women in the past who have smuggled in items concealed in their bra. This next inspection is a measure against that. You've agreed to the terms, please hold still while I conduct my duty." Again his speech sounded memorized, as if he'd said it hundreds of times, but Elizabeth was worried about what was next. The hairs stood on the back of her neck in anticipation of where he was going to touch her. Then his hands came from under her arms, reached up and cupped her breasts. Gripping them so that they bulged in her bra causing her cleavage to swell. Elizabeth could feel the man behind her, not quite in contact but the heat of his body was warming her back. His cologne wafted over her nostrils. His hands relaxed their grip slightly then slid over and then under her breast, lifting her bust with the motion. Elizabeth felt her nipples bounce as each of his thick fingers rubbed over them and she barely managed to avoid squealing. Elizabeth felt that the worst was over when he let go of her tits but then she gasped aloud. The guard brought his right and up and crossing to her left breast, slipped his fingers between her bra and skin. Her hands made an abortive motion to stop him but she regained her composure quickly and kept her arms stretched out. The guards fingers felt like hot probes as they touched her bare skin. He slid his thumb over her aureola and it swiped her nipple slowly. The guard withdrew his hand and his left hand started the same process on her right breast. Elizabeth turned her head to the right, an inadvertent motion that spoke of her unconscious desire to not look at what was happening to her. She was shocked to see one of the other guards holding her shoe, his nose close to the toe and he was inhaling deeply. Elizabeth looked forward again, choosing to ignore what the other man was doing with her shoe. The hand that was gripping her bare right breast slid out from her bra and she let out a sigh, feeling that it couldn't get worse than that. "If you need to readjust your clothing you may do so." The guard said in her ear. This time she could hear the smile in his voice. Dropping her arms Elizabeth smoothed her hands over her own chest and made sure the "girls" were in place. The shock of the chest inspection was starting to fade when the guard put his right hand on her right hip. Again his hand gripped her and then he slid his hand down her thigh tugging her whole dress. His other hand joined once he was past her hip. He rotated his hand to grip the front of her thigh while his other hand gripped the back. His hands moved downward until they slid over the hem of her dress. Elizabeth was aware that he was squatting as he frisked her lower and she froze unsure of what to do with her hands. Meanwhile he clearly knew what to do with his hands. They gripped her silken leg and he groped her past her knee, over her calf and then to her ankle. He started his motion back up, slowly massaging her leg through her nylons. Elizabeth was about to ask him what he was doing. Her hosiery was sheer and this was beyond an inspection. But it would be silly to say something now. Elizabeth held still and waited for him to finish. In another way, Elizabeth felt empowered by the attention. There was almost a reverence to the way the man fondled her legs. She knew she was starting to soak her panties and then realized that his hands had gone past her hem and under it! The guards hands were at the top her her thigh and his thumbs pressed into her buttox. The other men got an eyeful because his arms had gathered her dress and lifted it up to show everything underneath. One of the other guards, who was standing in front, moved around to get a better view of her exposed panties covered in sheer pantyhose. The guard who was frisking her moved his hands so that he was gripping both of her ass cheeks, his fingers sliding over the nylon with ease. With his left hand still gripping her ass he moved his right hand under to cup her pussy. Elizabeth rose on her toes and she had to fight her reaction to close her legs together and bring her hands down to stop him. His hand pressed on the inside of her thigh and two fingers swept over the lips of her pussy. Then he slowly retracted his hands and stood up. "Alright, Miss. Welcome to Boaz & Lorentz." he stepped aside and gestured her to another door. Elizabeth hadn't realized that had been holding her breath. She glanced at the man who had just touched every inch of her body. Well, he had skipped her left leg. She toyed with the idea of mentioning it to him but felt that was just inviting him to start over. She avoided eye contact with any of the other guards as she fetched her shoes and purse. Quickly she dropped her shoes to the floor, making a clatter in the small sterile room. She was clearly flustered from the guard's inspection. Elizabeth was sure that the guard knew she was wet. She also felt sure that he was going to sniff his own fingers as soon as she left the room. She thought of the guard who had been nuzzling her shoe and suddenly imagined him kneeling in front of her, softly kissing the tops of her feet. Elizabeth suddenly thrust those thoughts from her head, shocked at herself. Once she managed to get her feet into her shoes she quickly stepped past the guards and through the door. The door closed behind her and she felt a bit like Alice falling down a rabbit hole. She was so awed by the interior of the actual building she didn't hear the men in the other room laughing at her expense. The harsh floor of the security room was transformed into a lush carpeted surface that muted her heels as she stepped inside. The carpet was elaborate like that of a fine casino but without the gaudy patterns. Every few feet, the letters "BL" were embroidered in white, rising up slightly from the flat champagne carpet. She lifted a foot to make sure she wasn't standing on one of them. The room was large and open with a ten foot ceiling. Spaced evenly were large ornate chandeliers, glittering with prisms and glowing with soft light from within. The far wall had large wooden doors spaced evenly. To the left, the room ended into stairs that stretched from wall to wall. The stairs led down into another level that was beyond view. To the right was a large wall with a set of large oak doors partitioned off behind another set of bars. Clearly it was an entry to a vault or other more secure space. The whole room felt almost like a palace. It had the feel of royalty with a touch of flash found in the finest hotels in Las Vegas. Filling the room with soft ambiance was a string quartet. Elizabeth wasn't sure if it was a live performance or if the room had extremely well placed speakers. Just to her right Elizabeth saw stairs that stretched up and into the upper floor. A green velvet rope on brass stands closed the way up. The stairs had a gentle curve as they went up into what she assumed was a space for offices. She wasn't sure what was on the other side of the doors on the far wall and they didn't look like offices. Opulent leather furniture was arranged in several areas with fine wooden coffee tables. The furniture made half a dozen small areas and a few people were seated. Their low voiced conversations were almost inaudible. Men in suits sat and guested at flat screens with numbers and graphs on them. Everywhere that men sat and talked a woman also sat, and they would touch the screens and adjust the view as the men talked. The women stood out because they all dressed the same. They all wore satin blouses tucked into fine knee length skirts. They were adorned with pearls and other finery. If it wasn't for the small golden name plates carefully attached to their blouses Elizabeth would have thought they were women attending a presidential inaugural. She realized that she was applying to fill one of their positions. Elizabeth scanned the room to see if any of the employees were male. Most wore suits and others dressed in polo shirts and slacks. Clearly all were customers by their air of entitlement. A few of the small areas only had one man at the table. The men there spoke to the women sitting across from them and their slender fingers danced gracefully over electric tablets. Elizabeth assumed the women were taking notes or something as the customers dictated. Elizabeth barely had time to take this all in when a woman dressed in a golden silk blouse that matched the carpet and a white skirt walked up to her. She smiled warmly at Elizabeth and extended her hand to her. "Hello, my name is Beverly. Are you here for an interview?" Elizabeth smiled back, and relaxed now that someone was acknowledging her as something other than cattle. Banking Privately "Yes I am!" "Very good. Follow me please." Beverly walked off toward the roped off staircase. She unclasped the velvet divider and allowed Elizabeth to pass, then clipped it back into place. Beverly then led the way up the stairs. From behind her Elizabeth noticed that Beverly's legs were sheathed in fine stockings. The color of the hosiery blended with her natural skin tone and only the soft sheen of a back seam tracing up her leg gave the nylons away. The back seam, barely a shade darker than the rest of the stocking, ended in a blocked out pattern of reinforced nylon that disappeared into the heel of Beverly's white five inch stiletto heels.. Elizabeth was a little surprised at Beverly's heels. The stairs turned left and as Beverly led, Elizabeth saw that Beverly's heels had a small peep toe. Up close Beverly's French manicured toes could be seen behind the vale of nylon. Elizabeth wanted to go back down stairs and look at what the other women wore. Clearly this was a uniform and she wanted to see it up close. Beverly's gold blouse and white skirt didn't match the black skirts and white blouses downstairs. And Elizabeth couldn't remember if the ladies below wore heels like Beverly's. Elizabeth didn't have time to think much on it before they reached the top of the stairs. At the top was a hallway with several doors. Elizabeth felt pleased with herself that she had guessed correctly. Beverly led Elizabeth to an ornate door with a brass plaque that read: J H GRANT. She knocked twice then opened the door, gesturing Elizabeth inside. Elizabeth walked in and Beverly shut the door behind her. The office was huge, again surprising Elizabeth. A large black oak desk sat on the far wall. The wall was covered with book shelves, the shelves filled with leather bound books. In front of the desk where four leather chairs and between the chairs and the desk was a long wooden bench that was about two feet off the floor. Sitting at the desk was a man in a black suit and bow tie. A red velvet waistcoat was visible under his black jacket. His balding salt and pepper hair was cut short and a thin mustache lined his upper lip. His narrow features and hawk like stare gave him the appearance of a bird of prey that had just caught sight of a rabbit in the wood. He made no sign that he had seen Elizabeth enter and his hands were steepled under his chin, his elbows on the desk. "Number Three!" The man called out. "Please take a seat." Elizabeth hesitated. She was unsure if he was talking to her or to someone else in the room. The pause in which no one spoke made it clear that he was in fact talking to her. Elizabeth began to speak, but the man cut her off sharply, "Take your seat, please." Elizabeth paused, then walked toward the chairs. She saw a brunette peer around the high backing of her chair. The man's attention snapped to the brunette and he barked, "Number Two, eyes front!" The woman snapped back out of view. Elizabeth came around so that she could see the two other women sitting in chairs. She carefully sat in an empty chair, leaving one unoccupied. The Brunette was seated closest to her. She had long hair that was curled and styled, and her black dress was covered in sequins. Her bare legs were smooth, shiny and her feet were wrapped in strappy sandals with a spike heel. She looked like she had dressed for a cocktail party and not a job interview. Elizabeth was shocked that she wore no hosiery. Maybe for a private party or while going out this was fine but every guide on job interviews stated clearly that hosiery was a must. Elizabeth felt assured that she wouldn't have to compete with her. The woman on the far end of the row of chairs was a blond. Her hair was tucked into a French twist, with loose strands framing her face. Her lips glistened with red lipstick and Elizabeth felt she had on too much eye shadow. She wore a white blouse that fit snugly around her large breasts. A tight navy blue pencil skirt hugged her hips and displayed her long legs. Her legs gleamed in dark navy hose that had a sheen dancing over her leg from the light. Matching sling back pumps adorned her feet. This woman presented herself well, and Elizabeth hopped she could edge her out in another way. The three women sat and Elizabeth picked up quickly that talking would be a very bad idea. it was so quiet in the room, with only the sound of a large grandfather clock slowly ticking out the seconds. She wanted to look behind her and see if Beverly was still in the room. Elizabeth felt very uncomfortable. She wasn't expecting to be interviewed at the same time as her competitors. The silence was becoming unnerving. She could only hear the noise of breathing. Elizabeth crossed her legs and the rasping sound of her nylons sliding against each other sounded like an avalanche in the quiet room. Suddenly Elizabeth wondered if she was supposed to report or something. Maybe the room was quiet as they waited for her to say something. The other two women fixated in their seats quietly and suddenly Elizabeth felt that she was behind the curve. The guides on interviews stated that introductions were important. "My na-" Elizabeth started to say to the man at the desk. "Quiet, please." The man snapped. "Your name is not important. You are not being judged by your name and you will not receive employment at Boaz & Lorentz due to your name. For now you will be addressed as 'Number Three' and if you speak out of turn again you will be dismissed." Elizabeth closed her mouth and sat quietly. She felt like she had been slapped on the face and was stunned by what he had said. Nothing that had happened from the moment she had walked into the building had been anything like she expected. She thought of the letter inside her purse. She did not remember contacting this bank for an interview and she was unsure how they had found her. Elizabeth started to wonder if she had made a mistake. Out of the corner of her eye she looked at the two women seated at her right. She thought of what the guards had done to her and wondered if they had frisked these women in the same manner. Maybe the guard downstairs was taking his turn and the next woman who came to interview would be molested by a different guard. The more Elizabeth looked at the other women the more she was sure that they had been frisked too. How many women had refused to be searched? How many had been unable to withstand the entire inspection and left instead? Elizabeth thought she had come early but she was the third woman in the room. She had almost missed out! Elizabeth jumped when two knocks at the door shattered the silence. When Beverly had knocked outside, Elizabeth was sure no one would hear her. From inside it sounded like barbarians were trying to bust the door down. The door opened and Elizabeth heard a soft female voice say "Thank you." and then the muted sound of heels on the carpet could be heard as someone walked in. "Number Four, Please take a seat!" The man called out. Then said, "Mrs. Standish?" "Yes, Mr. Grant?" Beverly replied. "See to it that the guards admit no further applicants." "Yes, Mr. Grant." Beverly said and the door closed behind her. Elizabeth had a sudden feeling of pity for 'Number Five' and wondered what the guards did to a woman who was not allowed into the castle. Her thoughts drifted away as a tall ginger haired woman took the seat to her left. Her long legs visible due to a short, tulip cut dress, navy blue in color. The grey nylons she wore glittered in the light of the room. She smiled at Mr. Grant and began to greet him. "Quiet, please!" Mr. grant said, "Your name is not important. You are not being judged by your name and you will not receive employment at Boaz & Lorentz due to your name. For now you will be addressed as 'Number Four' and if you speak out of turn again you will be dismissed." He showed no loss of patience as he recited something he had repeated at least three times now. "Before we begin we must make clear what is at stake. This position pays eighty thousand dollars a year. There is also a generous clothing allowance. Full dental and medical benefits are included, neither of which deduct from that salary. A transportation allowance in the form of a personal company car is also included." Mr. Grant now looked at each woman in turn. His hawk stare burrowed into each woman, giving them a look of a schoolmaster who is about to discipline his students. "According to what each of you put on your resume, you are all skilled, experienced, and trained to work in an office." He snorted slightly in disgust. "If you are not fabricating your abilities, on the pure merit of professional skill, all of you qualify." Mr. Grant stood up, walked around his desk and then leaned on it, facing the women. Elizabeth's attention was again drawn to the bench that was between them and Mr. Grant. There was enough room for him to walk around it without being crowded by his desk or the chairs the women sat in. It was too narrow and impractical as a coffee table. The curiosity was pestering Elizabeth like an unreachable itch. "However I only expect to hire one of you today." Mr. Grant said, again looking at each one in turn. He leered at the legs of the women, said "Maybe two." It was the first time Elizabeth had seen him break his professional manner and openly stare a them. It had been the leer of a man at a strip club and it sent a shiver up Elizabeth and caused her arms to break out in goosebumps. Mr. Grant composed himself and continued. "Therefore the selection process will based on attributes and talents not listed on your resume. If you thought my guards were fresh with you down stairs, we haven't even scratched the surface." Again, he took a long leering look at each pair of silken legs and a smile almost curled at his lip. There was a physical quiet in the room as each woman took in that statement, and what that look meant. "Today we will not discuss the reason for this. Today we will simply eliminate those who do not qualify to work here. IF you feel at this time you do not want to submit yourself to this elimination process, you are dismissed." Elizabeth thought about the guard downstairs. He had given her a similar warning before touching her in ways she never expected from someone at a job interview. The thoughts on Mr. Grant's mind were unknown, but by the way his eyes drank in the beauty of the women in front of him, Elizabeth guessed at what his intentions may be. She wondered if it was worth it. Again Elizabeth reminded herself that she had been looking for a job for months. If she or Julian didn't find work soon, their savings wouldn't stop the bill collectors. They would lose their home. Bankruptcy was a certainty. Eighty thousand dollars a year was almost twice what Julian had made. Elizabeth steeled herself. She could get this job, and nothing Mr. Grant could do would scare her off. That's what this was. A scare tactic. Jobs were scarce and the competition for them was outrageous. This was all an act to "thin the herd" so that he didn't have to interview as many people. She had already been groped once today and if the other women in the room could put up with so could she. Mr. Grant looked at each woman in turn then continued his lecture. "Twenty Seven other women were told to be at this interview today, If you wish to leave I will have no issue filling your vacancy." He paused, waiting for their answers. "Well?" he said at last, "Do you all agree to the elimination process?" There was a thick silence and none of them spoke. Elizabeth imagined each of the woman mentally weighing the rewards against the risks. "You are allowed to speak, and you must verbally answer me." Mr. Grant said quietly and sternly. All four women said yes each in a random moment, like clocks chiming at different intervals in a Swiss shop. "Good!" Mr. Grant continued. "Since you are here, now, in my chairs, and not downstairs being turned away, you have passed the first test. All of you have shown that you are punctual. If you are ever late without a valid and proper excuse, you will be receive punishment. If you do not wish to lose your job, you will submit to punishment." "What is the punishment?" It was the red haired woman, at Elizabeth's left, who asked the question. "Number Four, you have spoken out of turn. This has earned you a demerit. Demerits are expunged by submitting to punishment. If you collect more than twelve demerits you must immediately submit to punishment or be dismissed." "What is a demerit?" the woman asked. "Two demerits." Mr. Grant Snapped. "What?" the woman said, bewildered. "Three demerits. Do not ask questions. You may submit to minor punishment to remove one demerit at a time or submit to full punishment to remove up to five. You can choose to submit now or you may delay punishment." He looked her over in a leering fashion. "I warn you that once you pass five you cannot chose minor punishment and removing more than ten will not be pleasant for you." The woman looked at Mr. Grant with wide eyes and Elizabeth shared the fear she could see on the other woman's face. Mr. Grant waited, clearly expecting the woman to choose her fate. Elizabeth knew that if it was her she would accept the minor punishment now, rather than build up a debt. The woman opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. She looked like a fish gasping for breath. "Your third option," Mr. Grant said sternly, "is to leave." For a moment, Elizabeth thought the woman was going to get up, but that moment passed and she remained quietly in her chair. "I'll delay my punishment." She stammered. "Good." Said Mr. Grant approvingly. "More fun for me. Bear in mind you may earn more before we are though and I may not give you the opportunity to submit to punishment before you reach five. It is possible to be liberated of them though outstanding performance but I doubt that will happen before we are done." "Well," the woman said in a meek voice. "Four." Mr. Grant said and stared at her, almost daring her to speak. She clamped a hand over her mouth to insure she didn't let out another peep. Mr. Grant leaned over his desk, pressed a button on his phone, then spoke loudly. "Now, Mrs. Standish." Almost instantly, Beverly walked into the room. When she came into view, Elizabeth saw that she had four pairs of black heels in her hands. She bent over at the waist with legs straight in front of the woman who was "Number One" and placed a pair of shoes at her feet. Elizabeth moved down to Number Two, and then to her, then to Number Four. Each time Beverly place a pair of black five inch stiletto heels at their feet. The shoes looked exactly like Beverly's, including the tiny peep toe, only these were black patent leather. Inside the heel of the shoe Elizabeth noticed a golden number seven. How had they known her shoe size? By the time Beverly had handed out the last pair Elizabeth remembered the guard sniffing her shoe. So he had a purpose other than to be a pervert. "Thank you, Mrs. Standish. You may go." Said Mr. Grant curtly. Beverly gave him a nod and then quickly walked out of the room. "Ladies," he said to the applicants, "Please remove your shoes and slip these on." The women slowly began to comply. Soon all four had the new footwear on and looked up at Mr. Grant for more instruction. "These shoes are what all of our female employees wear while at work. They must be worn to and from work. You may not wear sneakers and then switch once you are at work, as many uncouth women in this city often do." Mr. Grant walked to the end of the bench nearest "Number One" and then said "Balance and grace cannot be judged on a resume alone. All of you stand up and step up on the bench." The women paused, unsure of what to do. All four of them had walked into the room wearing heels, but these were five inch stilettos. The shoes had a half inch platform at the toe but that did little to help. "Now!" Mr. Grant barked. Almost at once the women rose from their chairs and stepped up onto the bench. Elizabeth was used to heels but these were steeper than anything she had worn before. She wobbled slightly when she got both feet on the bench. She was relieved to see that all of the women wobbled slightly. Number Two almost toppled forward and she flapped her hands in tiny circles to maintain balance. The motion did not go un-noticed by Mr. Grant. He took three quick steps and was standing right in front of Number Two. He looked up at her disdainfully. "You almost fell on your face, Number Two! What will our clients to think of a woman who is lacking in grace?" The woman still hadn't gained her balance and had leaned back to avoid contacting Mr. Grant. She was now slowly tipping backward. To avoid falling she thrust her ass out and leaned forward. The motion didn't steady her and she reached out and put a hand on Mr. Grant. This saved her from the fall but it was clear that it was not well received by Mr. Grant. "One Demerit." he snapped. He stepped away from Number Two and then paced up and down the bench like a drill instructor reviewing his troops. "I assumed by the slutty heels you strutted in here with that you'd be an old hat with heels like these." Mr. Grant paused, stopping in front of Number Two again. His eyes had fixed on the peep toes of her shoes. He bent over until his face was inches from her feet. "Are you not wearing hosiery, Number Two?" "Um." She stammered. "What kind of slut are you?" Mr. Grant said, straightening and looking up sharply at her. "You waltz in her wearing a party dress like a whore ordered from the local pimp and you don't have the decency to wear nylons?" Number two gulped. It was clear she was not used to being addressed as a slut or a whore. "Two demerits." Mr. Grant snapped. The man looked over her legs with a look of disgust. He turned sharply and briskly walked to his desk, pressing a button. "Ms. Standish!" The door to the room opened before he was done saying her name. Elizabeth wondered if Beverly was psychic then assumed that they must be on camera. Beverly was anticipating her boss. Beverly had anticipated more that Elizabeth had guessed. In her hands was a fresh pair of black stockings. She handed them to Number Two and said. "Here, dear. Slip this on. Quickly now." She was already on her way out before Number Two could say anything. Number Two looked at the nylons, realized that they would need a suspender belt to be held in place. Elizabeth could see the indecision on her face. Number One could see it too and Elizabeth could tell the woman was pleased at what she saw. Carefully, Number two lowered herself then sat on the bench. She gathered up one stocking to its toe then slipping her foot out of her shoe pulled the stocking over her foot and up her leg. Mr. Grant unashamedly watched as she pulled the garment as far up her thigh as she could. Elizabeth saw a flash of black lace panties as she did so. With the other stocking in place, Number Two got back up on the stool and stood still. The stockings were staying up for now but every one in the room knew that wouldn't last long. With the interruption over, Mr. Grant resumed his pacing lecture. "Now then, while you are employed at Boaz & Lorentz you will wear the pencil skirts that are a part of a Bank Assistant's uniform. You will always wear hosiery with these skirts. Monday through Thursdays, fully fashioned stockings are required. On Fridays and weekends you may wear any type of hosiery you wish." Mr. Grant stopped near Number Four then said, "Hike up those skirts and dresses. All the way up! I need to see all the way to your waist." Open mouthed shock filled the room. As the words rang in Elizabeth's ears, their meaning shook her resolve. This wasn't a job interview, it was a peep show! Mr. Grant was filling his dark desires by forcing desperate women to submit to his dirty commands! Banking Privately Even as Elizabeth thought this she could feel herself becoming aroused.Her panties were starting to soak through to her nylons. Mr. Grant's Draconian methods along with the underlying sexual tension tapped into Elizabeth's secret desire to be controlled. Her heartbeat quickened at the thought of what the unknown punishment for demerits was. The thought of the forced exhibitionism along with the desire to submit to a strong willed master suddenly clicked with the actions of Beverly. She had bent at the waist, pointing her round tight ass at Mr. Grant. Each time a silent plea: Spank me! In a sudden decision of defiance toward her upbringing, Elizabeth was the first to gather her dress and then expose her black, boy short panties layered under her sheer to the waist pantyhose. Somewhere inside a new persona had taken over Elizabeth, the meek and modest Catholic girl was gone. She knew her pussy was slick with moisture as she resolved to submit to anything Mr. Grant asked of her. The other women slowly followed Elizabeth's example. She didn't know if they too had done so for the same reasons, Number Two now held the hem of her already short dress above her waist. Her stocking tops slouched without support from garters and the nylon bunched in odd areas around her legs. Number One had some trouble getting her tight pencil skirt up and decided to stop trying. Reaching behind her she unzipped her skirt and let it fall around her legs pooling around her feet. She proudly displayed her matching blue suspender belt holding her stockings in place. Her silky white panties gleamed in the light. high above their waistline. Number Four, however, had given up. Stepping off the bench with some trouble, she kicked off the shoes given her. Quickly she slipped her own back on. "Monster!" She sneered at Mr. Grant, who took her insult with a passive face. "Those bastards down stairs all but raped me, and now you're going to have me strip in front of you. You don't want an office girl you want a whore!" She stormed off to the door. He ogled number four as she flung open the door. Number Four threw a disgusted look over her shoulder then slammed the door behind her as she left. Mr. Grant then walked around behind his desk and pressed a button on his phone. "Security." A bored male voice answered. "One of the interviewees has left my office." Mr. Grant said. "I believe she took something from my desk. Intercept her and have her thoroughly searched." "With pleasure, Sir." Said the voice. Elizabeth gulped. If Mr. Grant didn't consider the guard's initial inspection, she wondered what they were going to do to Number Four. Mr. Grant gave one last glance at the door, and Elizabeth felt he might be jealous of his guards. Then he was back around his desk and inspecting her legs up close. Mr. Grant walked around behind Elizabeth and she could feel his breath on her thigh. "Your panties are not to code, Number Three." From his voice, Elizabeth could tell his face was very near her nylon sheer ass. "Pantyhose are out of code as well. Two demerits." Elizabeth gasped softly has Mr. Grant's hand formed over her right ass cheek. He gripped firmly then slid his hands down over her butt and along her leg until he was gripping her ankle, then slowly he moved his hand back up to her ass. The soft rasping made as he fondled her was loud in the quiet room and Elizabeth was sure the other women knew what he was doing to her. This was not the forceful gripping of the man down stairs. Mr. Grant's hand was deft and skillful as it slid over her silky leg. At times his touch was so light she wasn't sure it was there at all. He applied pressure at different points and she felt as if she was being inspected by a judge in a competition. He pinched the nylon at the back of her knee and pulled it, allowing it to snap back against her leg. The moisture continued to build in Elizabeth's soft mound. "The Dress Code requires that you wear full brief panties of either satin or sheer nylon construction." Mr. Grant intoned as if lecturing a class. "Fully Fashioned stockings of either a Cuban, French, or Manhattan heel is also required. Stockings are to be held in place by a six strap garter belt worn under the panties." Mr. Grant stopped fondling Elizabeth and then walked around the bench so he could face her. "Pantyhose usually incur two demerits if worn on the wrong day. However you are wearing a very high quality pair and for that I reduce that to 1 demerits. Your panties however bring your total back up to two. Will you submit to punishment now?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "Yes, sir." Elizabeth answered clearly and precisely. "Excellent." Mr. Grant said, and Elizabeth noticed that his trousers had a large bulge that was growing down the left side of the inseam. She knew that bulge was because of her legs and the thought stirred Elizabeth even more. She felt the wetness soaking her panties. Mr. Grant walked around behind his desk and fetched a four legged stool with a leather cushion. He brought the stool out near the bench and set it on the floor. He seated himself on it and looked up at Elizabeth. "Step down." he commanded, and pointed at a spot on the floor to his right. Elizabeth stepped down and walked over to the point indicated, keenly aware that the other two women were watching her intently, curious as to what he was going to do. When Elizabeth was in rich, Mr. Grant snagged her wrist and pulled her across his lap. She could feel his hard cock pressing against her thigh as she teetered on his lap. To keep balance she put her hands on the floor and pulled her legs up, crossing them at the ankles. Mr. Grant pulled her dress up and over her ass and he rubbed her cheeks roughly, preparing them for what was to come next. With his other hand, Mr. Grant took a fist full of Elizabeth's hair, pulling it so hard he almost lifted her off his lap. "Are you supposed to wear pantyhose in my bank on a Tuesday!" He barked. "No." she said wincing. His hand came down on her ass with more force than Elizabeth expected and the clapping sound echoed in the small room. "No, what?" he asked. "No, I will not wear panty-" He cut her off with another slap on her ass. The pain was sharp and Elizabeth squeaked. "No, what?!" He demanded. "No, Sir!" Elizabeth said. "Are you supposed to wear faddish panties, unfitting a lady?" He asked. "No, Sir!" Elizabeth said. Again his hand came down slapping the exact same place as the previous two. Elizabeth's ass was stinging and she was shocked at his strength. He let go of her hair and smoothed her dress back over her ass, now red with the evidence of his spanking. "Very good, Elizabeth. Please take your seat." Elizabeth knew Mr. Grant was too precise a man to call her by her name without purpose. Did this mean she had been selected? Or just that she had made it past some unknown checkpoint. She sat on the soft leather chair, but even its generous cushion kept it from being uncomfortable. There was no more secret as to what a minor punishment was, and Number Two had decided that she wasn't going to stick around to find out what a full punishment entailed. She was off the bench, sitting in the chair and pulling the stocking off her leg. "Leaving us, Number Two?" Mr. Grant said with a wry smile on his face. "I shall alert the guards." As he stood Number Two froze. Every woman in that room had been subjected to those guards on the way in. Each one wondered what was happening to Number Four right now. Mr. Grant pressed a button on his desk. "Security." A male voice said. In the background the audible cries of a woman could be heard. They were rhythmic in nature and they sounded muffled. Elizabeth felt it sounded like a hard core porno. She could even hear the rhythmic grunting of a man that matched the moans of the woman. "Number Two has also decided to terminate her interview." Mr. Grant said, ignoring the sounds of rape coming from his desk speaker. "See to it that she is-" "Wait!" Number two shrieked. "I changed my mind!" She quickly started to pull the stocking back over her leg. "Belay that." Mr. Grant said then keyed off his phone. He looked at Number two who was trying pull her stockings up tight. "Number Two, you had Two demerits before you got off the bench without permission. Then you spoke out of turn." He looked sharply at her legs. "You've also put a run in your stocking. This brings you to five demerits." Number Two looked at him like a small animal caught in a spot light. "You are no longer eligible for minor punishment." Number Two started to visibly shake. Tears welled up in her blue eyes causing her mascara to run. "What are you going to do to me?" She whimpered. "Six." Mr. Grant said quietly. He pressed a button on his desk. "Ms. Standish." he said. Again, Beverly was in the room before he was done speaking her name. She walked over to Number Two and took her by the hands, pulling her to her feet. Number Two hadn't put shoes back on and she followed Beverly over to the other side of the room, stocking feet quietly shuffling along. When they reached the far wall Beverly flipped a switch and a section of the wall tipped into the room. Attached to the panel that opened from the wall was a thick post with a black leather padded cross bar at the top. The panel touched the floor and Beverly stepped on it. When Beverly put her weight on the panel, Elizabeth heard a loud metal click and the whole rig seemed secure. Attached to the base of the shaft were four straps and Beverly positioned Number Two next to the cross bar, bent her over then started to bind her wrists into the straps. "What is he going to do?" Number Two whispered but Beverly shushed her. Next Beverly strapped Number Two's ankles to the base. Fully strapped in, Number Two was in an awkward squatting position. Her wrists were bound level with her ankles and this caused her ass to stick out, exposed as the hem of her short dress was pulled upwards. Elizabeth gasped when she looked to see what Mr. Grant was doing while Number Two was being strapped into position. His pants were unzipped and his cock, long and thick with veins, was jutting outward. It looked to be at least eight inches and it was as hard as a steel rod. In his hand Mr. Grant carried a riding crop. Number One was still standing on the bench and Elizabeth was pleased to see that the smug look on her face was gone, replaced with a furrowed brow and a nervous stare. "That crop hurts like the dickens." Beverly said in a quiet voice. "It will leave a welt for a few weeks. Some of the girls have permanent marks." Number Two started to struggle to get free. "You owe him six strikes-" "Seven!" Mr. Grant corrected sternly. "Richard!" Beverly said with reproach. "One Demerit." He said calmly. "You owe him seven strikes, but you don't have to suffer all seven." Number Two looked up at Beverly, hope on her face. "He's going to jam his cock into that pretty mouth of yours. If you make him cum he'll stop wiping your ass." Beverly looked down at Number Two. "Good Luck." She said and then walked out of the room. Mr. Grant walked over to Number one, his shaft throbbing with blood. He stood in front of her and she tried to look anywhere but at his cock. Gently Mr. Grant put his hand on Number One's knee, squeezing it softly. He leaned in closely to inspect the top of her stockings. Their large welts had a white lined top that contrasted well with the dark navy of the stocking. Number One's pale thigh twitched as Mr grant stood so close his nose almost touched her. Elizabeth crossed her legs again, squeezing them tightly together. She was torn between feeling envious of Number One as Mr. Grant pawed at her legs, or relieved that she wasn't strapped down about to be face fucked and whipped at the same time. "Very fine stockings, Number One. I am pleased to see you wearing the proper style, however they are the wrong color for your uniform. One Demerit." Gently, with one hand, Mr. Grant freed Number One's right stocking of one of its garters. Then he released the other. Slowly he peeled the stocking down her leg. When the stocking was pooled around her ankle he lightly tapped the back of her heel with his riding crop. Shifting her weight Number one extended her foot. Mr. Grant slipped the shoe off her foot. He angled his hips and his shaft slid over the top of her nylon foot. His hand let go of the stocking and reached up to slid his fingers along the back of her naked calf. Number One extended her silken toes, the blue reinforced area of the stocking still veiling her red toenails, and she slipped them along the the underside of his shaft, causing Mr. Grant to gasp slightly. "I retract the demerit, Number One." With her foot still under his shaft, Mr. Grant stepped forward and kissed her silken panties, pressing his mouth over the soft mound of her vagina. His hand slid up to her thigh and he gripped the back of it fiercely while her foot teased his cock and his lips mouthed her pussy. Elizabeth was impressed that Number One maintained her balance. She found her own fingers sliding down to her inner thigh, reaching all the way to rub her own clitoris through her panties and hose. She stopped herself short of speaking out. She wanted his attention, even if it was to incur a demerit! Mr. Grant stepped away from the teasing toes and with a flick of his wrist, he snapped her stocking off her foot. Number One slowly slid her bare foot back into her empty shoe. Mr. Grant brought the stocking up to his nostrils, and closing his eyes sniffed it deeply. Then with a flourish, slipped the stocking over his shaft. With a few tugs, the round head of his cock was stretching the stocking as his hand pulled it taut. "Take your seat, Lori." Mr. Grant said quietly. The blond got down and sat, clearly tired from standing still for so long. Elizabeth and Lori watched as Mr. Grant walked slowly over to Number Two, his hand gently stroking his cock as he rubbed the blue stocking over his shaft. "Lori," Mr. Grant said looking at Number Two, "you have done very well today and I am most pleased. Go see Ms. Standish. She will take your measurements and have you supplied with a uniform. You will start tomorrow." "Thank you, sir." Lori said, barely able to keep the joy out of her voice. She stood and her heels clicked in muted fashion on the carpet as she strode out of the room. "I should have taken my chances with the guards!" Number two spat as Lori closed the door behind her. "Eight." Mr. Grant said, "Take heart Number Two, there is still one position left. You may still earn it. "Let her have it!" She shrieked, looking at Elizabeth. "I'm done." "Not until after you submit to punishment." Mr. Grant said with a chuckle. He paused for effect. "Nine." He was now close enough to strike. From where Elizabeth sat she could see the back of Mr. Grant. Sticking out on his right was Number Two's ass. Sticking out on his left was her face, which now turned to plead to Elizabeth. "Please!" She said in a whimper. "Stop him." "Ten!" Mr. Grant snapped and he brought the crop down with a violent swing. The whoosh sounded like that of a pro golfer's swing and when the small strap of leather connected with her bare ass the sound was a tiny thunderclap. Elizabeth's own ass twitched at that sound. Number Two's mouth gaped open in a silent scream, the pain clearly more than she was remotely prepared for. "You've come this far, Number Two. Are you going to throw it all way because you're afraid of a little pain?" Mr. Grant walked around so that his cock was even with Number Two's face. She looked up at him, tears rolling down her face. "Don't you want the job?" He said almost sweetly. "Where are you going to go? Did I mention that if you don't get hired here, no one else in this city will hire you?" He presented the tip of his shaft to her lips and she looked down at his cock, sheathed in the blue stocking. "If you're not good enough for Boaz & Lorentz, you're not good enough for anyone. This is your last chance Cynthia." Cynthia looked up at him sharply and he pressed the tip of his cock against her lips. Keeping her large blue eyes on his face, she eagerly accepted his shaft into her mouth. Holding nothing back Cynthia started to suck his cock through the stocking, desperate to appease him before another strike landed on her ass. Mr. Grant watched as her head bobbed over his cock and he stepped closer, forcing more of it into her mouth. Cynthia's eyes bulged and she faltered a moment while she fought her own gag reflex. With another whoosh the riding crop came down with brutal authority. His cock muffled her scream but she regained composure quickly, doubling her efforts to suck him off. Elizabeth was rubbing her pussy in quick rapid motions, her other hand had slipped into her bra and she was pinching her nipple. She almost stood so she could get his attention on her. Mr. Grant had dropped the riding crop and had Cynthia by her hair. He started to breath deeply as Cynthia worked her lips over his cock, soaking the stocking with her saliva. Cynthia started to make greedy sucking noises as she increased her effort. Elizabeth started to exhale in quick sharp breaths as her own orgasm grew within her. Mr. Grant snapped his attention to Elizabeth, his hawk stare burning into her. Elizabeth couldn't help herself, she quickened the pace on her own clit and soon she was gasping loudly, quickly, her climax almost upon her. "Three demerits!" Mr. Grant said pointing a finger at her. Cynthia was bobbing quickly over his shaft her red lips leaving lipstick on the blue nylon. Elizabeth felt a sudden warmth explode from within until every extremity tingled and she let out the scream of her orgasm. Suddenly Mr. Grant thrust his head back and drew in a sharp breath. Looking up, he blindly groped for Cynthia's hair and when his fingers found it they clamped down tightly, forcing Cynthia's mouth over him until her nose pressed against his dark curly pubic hair. Elizabeth could see his ball sack convulse against Cynthia's chin as he shot his load into the stocking. Elizabeth slid off the chair and on to her knees. She lay back on her own feet and her back arched thrusting her breasts upward as she screamed in ecstasy of her orgasm as Mr. Grant growled out his. After a few moments they both fell silent. Elisabeth lay flat her chest heaving with sharp breaths as she tried to calm down. Mr. Grant withdrew his cock, also breathing heavily. His shaft was free of the stocking that now lay in front of Cynthia. It was soaked with cum and saliva and Number Two added a bit more to it by spitting out what was left in her mouth. "Very good, Cynthia." Mr. Grant said, slightly out of breath but his composure regained. With an almost sleight of hand movement he tucked his semi hard cock back into his pants then he turned to face Number One. "Elizabeth, you've managed to earn two more demerits for that display. I will extract punishment from you tomorrow." He walked over to the desk and pressed the button again. "Ms. Standish, have Elizabeth and Cynthia fitted for their uniforms. And remind Security that they are off limits to any 'special' attentions." He turned away from his desk as Beverly came into the room with a tape measure. He looked over Lori and Elizabeth one more time. "I'll see you ladies at seven, sharp. Remember I can only accept one of you. I expect you both to do your best tomorrow." He smiled and strode out of the room.