"Interview Preparation"

Anyone wandering up the stair leading to my loft like bedroom would have been greeted with the poignant odour of nail polish. I was sitting in the middle of my bed. A towel under my feet, toes separated by cotton wool, I was intently doing my toe nails. The colour was Jet Black. I was in a semi naked state, a cheeky black "G" string. I was preparing for a job interview. My Chosen outfit was hanging on coat hanger, suspended from the railing over-looking the ground floor below.

My journal was open on bed in front of me. I had scribbled thoughts on two different topics on either page. The left page had penned notes and thoughts on the qualities of a good dancer. The right page was a story about having met a hermaphrodite; I’d cheekily called it double sensation. I had a version of writer's block which story I want to publish next, one story was educational eroticism for the reader. The other was more recollecting an event which was educationally erotic for me.

I was nervously optimistic and yet unsure whether I wanted the position I was being interviewed for. My one and only other job interview ended in disaster. I was graciously escorted from the club in question and promptly banned. The club manager left me alone in a room while I dressed, I didn’t know that the guy who entered was her boyfriend I thought it was part of the interview.

I screwed the nail brush back into the little black bottle, placed on the bed beside me. I leant back a little, inspected my handy work "perfect, just like me”, I joked to myself. I glanced back at the open journal looking at my notes about dancing. I had a name on the page, it was circled.

Earlier in the week I was called to Sinsity by Bossy's lovely wife. It was a bit strange, I was quite curious. I appeared at the teleporting station in the large marble entranced into the dancing hall at Sinsity. I turned and looked directly into the dancing hall. A lone dancer was on the pole, short blonde hair. Athletic looking, she wore a purple and black corset.

The dance pole quite often stood alone as you view into the hall. I was more curious now seeing someone dancing on the pole. I walked towards her, I don’t remember what I was wearing I knew I would have been wearing my black rock star boots. I stood in front of her, she greeted me warmly. Wow I thought to myself, she’s working the room too. Seen a lot of lazy dancers around of late, happy just to spin and twist on a pole. Oh my god I thought, she’s working me maybe.

Just as we traded pleasantries, the Boss appears his lovely wife at his side. "Ozzie" she says, "come with me". The three of us walked out of the dance hall down onto the bridge leading to the gated area on the other side. We stopped half way at the marble bench, half way across.

"Can you explain this", she exclaimed as she handed me a photo. It was me, with my head resting in the Bosses lap; I was wearing a latex suite. My nicely shaped bum was exposed and the boss was intently studying it. Oh crap I thought to myself. I looked at bossy, I mean I am guilty of teasing him many times. Umm hello I distinctly remember walking up to him last Christmas looked at him, slipped my lovely firm puppies out of my loose black singlet top. I cupped my breast, tweaked my nipples and said "Merry Christmas".

I softly replied "it was harmless", trying to worm my way out of a seeming difficult position. My situation was deepening though, my boss only added to the mess. I turned started to walk away. I was leaving; I had all but admitted guilt when they both started laughing. "Grrr" I said, "his idea" she replied. I turned I looked at them both. I looked at my boss, my face was saying "hmmm going to get you back you turd". He laughed; I knew that would be impossible.

Our joke was over, and conversation interrupted a vendor stopped for a chat with my villainous companions. I was still curious, so I folded my arms, my hips swayed as I walked up the rise from the bridge and into the dance hall again. I stood in front the dance pole, I slipped a note out I had tucked inside my bra and placed it in the jar. I traded dancing stories with the curiosity, I remembered her name. I was looking at it circled on the page.

My view moved, flicked my hair from the side of my face over my shoulder. I was looking intently at the dress I had chosen. I was being interviewed for a high class position. My big question was do I want to head back in that career direction. I was enjoying the semi retired lifestyle. I knew the briefcase under my bed wasn't as heavy as it once was though.

So I slipped off the bed, closed my journal and walked to the railing. I looked at my outfit hanging over the railing in a semi trance like state, I was day dreaming about what I was about to do. I uttered to myself,

"Convince Me Baby".

Oz, x