Leslie nervously waited for word from the agency about whether she would have a second interview. She thought she did okay during her first interview but she also wasn't sure what the agency was looking for. She was ready to go out and start mass applying to whatever “normal” jobs were advertising if the answer was bad, even though she wasn't sure they would be able to cover her expenses.

Two days after her initial interview, Leslie received a phone call. Andrea informed her that her background and STI checks returned good and they were impressed with her interview. They had passed the material on to the client who liked her well enough that he wanted to conduct a second interview with her himself the following afternoon.

After hanging up the call, Leslie let out a sigh of relief. She appeared to have done even better than she thought, and now the client wanted to meet her. She spent that evening making sure to groom herself exceptionally well, taking an extra long shower, and shaving her pubic area as requested during the first interview. The following morning, she tried to doll herself up with makeup as much as she could.

Then the decision came about what to wear. She wondered if it even mattered if he was going to do a good portion of the interview with her naked as what happened in the first interview, but she decided it was still important to at least show up dressed to impressed. She decided to wear a green thin-strapped skater dress that she would occasionally wear out to parties. She thought it was a good mix of sexy without being too casual.

The car arrived to pick her up at 3 p.m. The thought went through her head that it was rather reckless of her to have just gotten in some random car to go to the first interview, but those concerns were overridden by her desire to get the job and the fact that the fanciness of the car and driver imbued an aura of legitimacy. In any case, those concerns were gone now that the first interview went smoothly and Leslie got into the car again without hesitation.

This time, the car was taking her to a different location. It wasn’t going all the way up toward Washington and instead drove to a country club only 15 minutes away. She found Andrea waiting for her in front of the building.

“Good afternoon, Leslie,” Andrea greeted her.

“Good afternoon,” Leslie responded with an anxious sigh. She looked around at the older, but still obviously well-kept clubhouse.

“Try not to be too nervous. Confidence is what wins over a lot of clients. I know a lot of new hires have a bit of trepidation about the job at first, but you will get used to it, I promise,” Andrea reassured Leslie as they stepped into the building.

"Did you used to do this?" Leslie asked with curiosity.

“Yes, about ten years ago. My client helped put me through college. The scenario I described happened to me, as well as several others. I understand you are attending college yourself. I'm sure the cost of college is one of the reasons you're interested in this position.” Andrea then paused and glanced over towards Leslie. “Rest assured, this is not a part of the interview process, so feel free to express your thoughts.”

“Y-yeah, that’s part of it,” Leslie answered, still trying to hold her nerves.

“I figured as much. That is often the case with our hires. Some quit once they are through college. Some quit college because they found this job better and more rewarding. I find most end up doing something in between those extremes in the end, however.”

The pair walked down a hallway, their footsteps echoing on the polished floor. Andrea spoke softly. “The client is very detail-oriented, so try not to speak in too many generalities. He will likely ask you to get undressed first and conduct the entire interview with you undressed.”

“Understood,” Leslie nodded, in equally hushed tones. The pair finally arrived at a rather lavish door.

“Please enter. I will wait out here. The client will join you shortly.” Andrea explained, motioning at the door.

Leslie entered the room, which itself was quite lavish. There was a couch and a couple of seats nearby, with a smaller table between the seats with a couple of glasses of water already placed on top. There was a slightly larger table in front of the seats as well.

It then dawned on her: if the client was going to ask her to get naked right away anyway, what better impression could she give if she was already bare when he arrived? She walked up to the couch and slid off her dress and underwear, neatly placing them on the couch. She then milled around the room waiting for the client to arrive. Her perky B-cup breasts stood at attention, and her straight brown hair flowed behind her.

A few minutes later, a door on the other end of the room opened, and through it appeared a man who Leslie figured was in his late forties or early fifties. He had black hair that was graying around the edges and was clean-shaven. He was wearing a dress shirt, suit, tie, and slacks. He immediately spotted Leslie and started walking towards her.

“Oh, you must be Leslie. I see you are already prepared for our interview. Excellent,” he smiled, his eyes evaluating her as he confidently walked to join her. “My name is Jacob Henderson. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he greeted as he extended his hand to shake.

“I’m pleased to meet you as well, Mr. Henderson,” Leslie responded, doing everything in her power to keep eye contact with her brown eyes and give him a firm handshake.

“Before you sit down, can you come over here for a second?” He motioned her to a spot a couple of feet away from the furniture. He then walked around, inspecting her. “Hmm, yes. Very good. Can you bend over for me?”

Leslie complied, as she did at the first interview. The man kneeled and inspected her from behind, probably no more than half a foot away.

“Do you mind if I touch?” He queried.

“N-No, of course not.”

Mr. Henderson ran his finger along her labia, giving Leslie a slight chill of excitement, before running his fingers over her buttocks, giving them a slight squeeze. Leslie felt a bit strange having a man who she hadn’t even met two minutes prior already putting his hands on her, but she tried to put it out of her head, thinking of it along the lines of a physical examination.

“Can you stand up and face me again?” Leslie complied. “Can you push your arms together so you are squeezing your breasts together?” Again, Leslie complied, trying to make her breasts look as attractive as possible between her arms. “Excellent, excellent.” He once again lightly brushed his thumbs over her nipples, eliciting immediate goosebumps to spring on her. “Sensitive nipples, excellent.”

He then walked over to the center table and opened a drawer. He pulled out what appeared to be about an eight-inch black silicone dildo with a suction cup and stuck it to the table. “Can you please demonstrate your blowjob technique?”

Leslie took a deep breath. She walked over to the table and inspected the dildo for a few moments. She had never given a blowjob to a dildo before, but she figured it couldn’t be that much different than giving a real one.

She got to her knees and grabbed it, slowly sliding her mouth over it. She started to slurp and twist her tongue around it. The fact that this was a silicone toy and not a real cock caused Leslie to feel like it wasn’t as much fun, but then again, this was just a demonstration.

She could tell Mr. Henderson was observing her out of the corner of her eye, and she realized he might want to see how much of it she could take. She pushed herself lower on the silicon shaft, trying not to gag. Spit started to run out of her mouth. Once she got about halfway down, the gag reflex kicked in, and she started coughing slightly.

“Not bad. No gag reflex would be nice, but we can work on that.” Mr. Henderson observed.

He then took another item out from the table and placed it next to the dildo. It was a small bottle of lube. “Now, I know you mentioned that you were willing to do a trial period and would decide whether you would agree to allow for sexual intercourse afterward. I assume the agency already told you I would require that as part of any permanent contract we sign.”

“They did.” Leslie acknowledged.

“However, I assume, notwithstanding that, you are still willing to use this dildo on yourself. For my observation? Using toys would still be part of a temporary contract.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Leslie knew she would have to do it, or the interview was over. Besides, it was just a dildo, so it wasn’t that bad. She squeezed a bit of lube on top of the dildo and lathered it up with her hand. She then positioned herself over the dildo, grabbed a hold of it, and slowly lowered herself onto it, moaning slightly as she did.

She began to move up and down on it, trying to make sure she progressively worked more and more of it inside her. Leslie was trying to enjoy the experience, and it did feel good, but the unusualness of the situation and the stress of the interview made it difficult for her to get much pleasure from it. She still tried to excite herself by leaning so the dildo rubbed against her clit and by grabbing and squeezing her nipples. Mr. Henderson circled her a couple of times as she continued, nodding his head.

“Excellent, you can take a seat now,” he remarked after a few minutes and motioned to one of the two chairs that were next to each other. Leslie extracted herself from the dildo and took the seat, trying to sit in a way she thought looked “proper.” Meanwhile, Mr. Henderson yanked the dildo off the table and returned it to the drawer along with the tube of lube.

“I’ve already read through your application and the interview reports from Andrea and Joey. They were very impressed with you, and I must admit, so far so am I,” he noted, once again looking Leslie over.

Leslie’s heart skipped a beat. They were that impressed? She was surprised but glad.

“I do want to impress on you the seriousness of this position. It is not a game. It is not for fun, although I do hope you do have fun while doing it. You are preparing to enter a certain subculture that has its expectations and norms, including unquestioning obedience to your ‘owner'—the client, myself. Should I offer the position to you, you will be offered a contract with all the requests and behaviors you may be requested to do. To me, this list is non-negotiable, so you can take them or leave them. I cannot require you to do anything not on that list—at least not without further negotiation first—and I expect you to immediately and without question comply with any requests I make. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Leslie answered, her back straightening up.

Mr. Henderson smirked. “Jacob or Mr. Henderson is fine right now since you’re not on the job, but you do seem to understand what’s going on. ‘Sir’ is a suitable way to address me—and guests—while you are on the job.”

“I—I understand, uh, Mr. Henderson.” Leslie felt calling him Jacob felt way too informal and so stuck to the formalities. Mr. Henderson just let out a wry smirk.

“Here is what I propose. This coming weekend, I have a function where I will be entertaining a friend—a fellow pet owner. This can be your trial period, after which you can decide if we want to agree to a permanent contract. We can sign a temporary one here that is similar but limits payment to this function and does not allow sexual intercourse.

“I structure my contracts to include what I call a pre-hour and post-hour period. During this period, you receive a reduced rate but are not officially on duty. This is to give you time to prepare for the evening and clean up afterward. I never considered it to be proper to ask someone to do this without providing them the time and resources to be prepared for it or recover from it.

“The function will run from 8 p.m. to 11 p.m., and with the pre- and post-hours, you will be expected to be there from 7 p.m. to midnight. I’m offering $200 an hour for the pre- and post-hour—it is permitted that this be under the $400 minimum as you are not formally on duty yet—and the $400 minimum for the three hours that the actual function will run. According to my calculations, this should result in about a $1,200 net payment to you after taxes. Does this sound like an acceptable proposal?”

Leslie did some very quick math in her head. $1,200 take-home would at least allow her to cover the next month’s rent at the very least. If things went south, it would at least allow her to kick the financial can down the road for a couple of more weeks.

“Uh, yeah, sounds great!” she acknowledged, trying to sound peppy. She still had her doubts, but she had gotten this far, so there was no reason not to see what this was about.

“Excellent. My driver will pick you up from your address at 6:30 p.m., as I understand your car is out of operation. If I do decide to hire you permanently, I do request that you promptly resolve the transportation issue.”

“Yes, of course,” Leslie nodded. She figured that she might need to go all-in for a down payment on a car if she accepted this position permanently. She wasn’t sure how much she was going to get from her current car.

“Excellent. Andrea will have the temporary contract ready for you to review and sign outside, and barring anything else, I will see you Saturday evening.” Mr. Henderson stood up, and Leslie quickly followed suit. They once again shook hands, and Mr. Henderson made his way toward the door he entered.

Leslie decided to wait to put her clothes back on until he had completely left the room, a decision she felt paid off as he made a final glance in her direction just before exiting.

Leslie let out a big sigh and then quickly threw her underwear and dress back on and walked out the door she came from.

“So I heard it went well,” Andrea smiled as Leslie closed the door behind her.

“Uh, yeah, it seemed to,” Leslie acknowledged, almost out of breath. It felt like she was holding her breath the entire time.

“Follow me, and we can review the contract, after which you can sign it and get back home,” Andrea added cheerfully.

The pair walked to another couch near the country club's main entrance. Andrea picked up a folder lying on the couch and opened it.

“So, here is the contract. You can read through it all, but I think you probably get the gist of what is in it already,” Andrea explained.

Leslie took her copy of the contract. “Yeah probably.” She read through it quickly, but thoroughly. There was nothing there that looked out of the ordinary. She confirmed the list of permissible requests was correct, as well as the offered salary. The list of permissible behaviors was fairly all-encompassing. He could pretty much ask her to do anything, and she had to do it. But she figured that was the point.

“So the payment,” Leslie started.

“Yes?” Andrea answered, prepared to answer whatever questions she had.

“Do I have to withhold my taxes on my own, or how does that work?”

“We will process the payment for this initial contract and deduct the relevant taxes before forwarding it. For the permanent contract, we can keep it the same way, or you can do that yourself. I would recommend keeping it the same. We will send you an itemized pay stub so you can keep track of everything either way.”

“Of course,” Leslie responded. “Oh, what about health insurance?”

“We do not offer health insurance as part of a base contract. Since you are still under twenty-six, you can still stay on your parents’ plan, if you are currently on it. However, we recommend that you look into signing up for a plan through the insurance marketplace. However, I do know of owners who do offer benefits like health insurance as part of a live-in pet contract, but that is not on the table with this contract.”

“Got it.” Another thing she was going to have to figure out.

Leslie finished reviewing the contract and was satisfied that she didn’t see any red flags or anything unexpected. “Alright, I think I’m ready to sign it.”

“Okay, sign here and here, on both our and your copies.” Andrea pointed to some lines on a couple of different pages. Leslie obliged by signing all of them.

"Congratulations! You are now at least a temporary employee of Fempet. Good luck with your first job!” Andrea cheerfully commended.

“Uh, thanks,” Leslie accepted. Leslie then grabbed her copy of the contract and walked back out to the car that was waiting to take her back home.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Leslie paced back and forth in her apartment waiting for her ride to her first job. She wasn’t sure exactly what to wear, so she wore the same green dress she had worn to the second interview. She had already done her facial makeup and hair.

The car arrived—a black Mercedes—and a sharply dressed woman, probably in her mid-thirties with medium-length brown hair and brown eyes exited the driver's seat. She greeted Leslie as she exited her house.

“Leslie, I presume?” the woman asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Leslie nervously responded as the woman opened up the passenger side door for her. She took her seat, and they went on their way.

“So, I hear you are Mr. Henderson’s new pet?” the woman asked.

“Uh, yeah, I guess it's kind of a test run. And, uh, new? He’s had one before?” Leslie inquired.

“Yes. You would be his third, I believe. The last one decided she had gotten everything she wanted from the job and left to start her own family. She was very well regarded, so you have large shoes to fill. Not to add any more pressure on you.”

Leslie gulped in nervousness. She was already feeling anxiety over this job, and now she heard this. “So, uh, is there anything you can tell me?” Leslie eventually asked.

“Since this is your first time, once we arrive, I’ll lead you to the staff area. There is a main room, locker room, makeup room, showers, and so on. You should already have a locker assigned to you where you can keep your belongings while you are on duty. You will also find a collar and shoes inside for you to wear. The rest of your pre-hour should be spent putting on body makeup and otherwise getting pretty. Mr. Henderson also appreciates promptness, so you will need to be prepared to be with Mr. Henderson to greet our guest no later than 8 p.m.”

“Who, uh, who is the guest?” Leslie inquired.

“Mr. Ambroz, who is bringing a pet of his own. Typically when greeting guests, you will stand next to Mr. Henderson. If he is sitting, you will take a seat next to him, or if no seat is available, stand slightly behind him. While walking, you should walk directly behind him, a couple of paces behind. Just keep an eye on Mr. Ambroz’s pet, and you should get the idea. However, any requests he makes of you take priority over any of this.”

“So if I’m just sitting or standing there, uh, what do I do?”

“Just that—sit and stand there and look pretty. But trust me, Mr. Henderson doesn’t typically keep you idle, even if it is just to take notes on the discussion.”

Leslie let out a little laugh. “That sounds kind of menial.”

"Hey, not everything involves serving drinks or engaging in other activities. Mr. Henderson is very strict about his pet’s obedience, but he also realizes that you’re a person. And he is paying you for your time, so he doesn’t want you to be doing nothing either.”

This put Leslie a bit more at ease for now. Then she realized she didn’t know who she was talking to. “Uh, who might you be if I can ask?”

“I’m Stephanie. I am Mr. Henderson’s executive assistant. I handle many of his professional, non-entertainment requests, including paying you,” she glanced over with a smile. "If you have any problems, please come to me. If it is urgent, you can let Mr. Henderson know. But usually, you’ll want to come to me.”

“Okay, understood,” Leslie nodded.

Leslie waited in nervous silence for the rest of the car ride until they turned off onto a well-kept but unmarked private road and passed through some trees, which finally opened up to a mansion in a clearing. She could immediately see a swimming pool and tennis courts on the property.

“Here we are!” Stephanie happily chirped. “There is the main entrance,” she added, pointing to a paved, covered area in front of a pair of ornate doors. “But we are heading down to the staff and valet parking area,” she concluded.

She pulled the car around to the side where there were a couple of smaller, more modest entrances to the building.

"You'll want to go through the far door. That is the staff room,” she instructed.

“Uh, thank you. And I guess see you later?” Leslie tried to sound less nervous than she was.

“To take you home, definitely, but I may see you around the place anyway. Just don’t act too casually when on duty, though.”

“Uh, yeah, understood.” Leslie sat up in her seat as if she were called to attention.

Stephanie let out a little laugh. “Good luck.”

“Yeah.” With that, Leslie stepped out of the car and headed to the staff room.

The main staff room appeared to be a place for staff to lounge and have refreshments before and after shifts or during breaks. The dressing and makeup rooms were located off one door, while the locker room and shower/bathroom were located off another door. Leslie found the locker with her name on it, as well as a sticky note with the combination.

She found two items in the locker: a pair of black, open-toed, but still fancy-looking sandals and a simple leather choker collar with a small ring hanging down from the front.

“Yep,” she remarked with a slight sigh. Seeing the choker, it finally hit Leslie what she was doing.

Leslie did her best to memorize the lock combination before taking off her clothes and folding them inside the locker, along with her other personal items. She then slipped on the sandals and latched the choker around her neck. It was tight but not uncomfortably so. She then closed the locker and found the nearest mirror.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she murmured to herself, seeing herself for the first time as she would be for the rest of the night: completely naked except for the sandals and collar. Her nipples started to harden a bit, being out in the open air.

Leslie walked into the makeup room and assessed her options. She started by squirting a healthy portion of moisturizer on her hand and rubbed it everywhere she could reach.

“Oh, can I help you with that?” a voice suddenly asked. Leslie looked and saw a petite red-haired girl walk into the room, her hair drawn up in a donut bun. She was wearing a white button-down top, a black vest, and slacks.

“Oh, uh, yeah, thanks,” Leslie answered. She reflexively moved her arms to block the view of her bare breasts.

The girl walked up behind Leslie and squirted a bit of moisturizer in her hand, then started applying it to the part of Leslie’s back that was the most difficult to reach.

“So, I take it you are Mr. Henderson’s new ‘pet’?” the girl asked.

“How could you tell?” Leslie asked with a dry laugh, eliciting a return one from the girl.

“I’m Scarlet. I’m the bartender, refreshment manager, or whatever you want to call me. When Mr. Henderson requests a refreshment or snack, you'll come to me in the kitchen, and I'll whip up his order for you. And since I usually only work here during events as well, we’ll probably be coming and going at the same time, so feel free to ask for my help with makeup and stuff since you need to apply a lot more of it than I do.”

“Uh, oh, thank you,” Leslie acknowledged with appreciation.

Leslie then found a body foundation cream she liked and applied it everywhere as well, with Scarlett helping her apply it to her back once more. Leslie was getting more used to sitting there naked, at least with Scarlet, as she continued to work. She finished by setting her makeup with baby powder.

She looked at the clock and saw it was 7:50 p.m. and was suddenly grateful she had done her face makeup and hair at home ahead of time. Leslie slid out of her seat and turned to face Scarlet.

“You look fantastic!” Scarlet complimented with a big smile, looking over Leslie. Leslie looked at herself in the mirror, and she was amazed at how smooth and perfect her skin looked—almost like a doll, but with not so much makeup that it looked fake.

“Thank you for all your help, but I better get going. Where would Mr. Henderson be?”

“Who knows, but you probably want to head to the main entrance,” Scarlet explained before helpfully telling Leslie how to get there.

“Thanks!” Leslie replied before making her way to the main entrance. She tried to make it a point to stand tall and not slouch. She figured she better start making that a habit, and now was a good time to start.

She arrived at an ornate room on the opposite side of the fancy doors she had seen from outside. An older gentleman—perhaps in his fifties—was waiting there as a doorman. Leslie gave him a polite nod, a gesture he returned. She noticed his eyes flitter to look her up and down but otherwise stood still. Leslie had to fight the urge to cover herself with her arms again.

Leslie slowly milled around the room waiting for Mr. Henderson to finally arrive.

“My, my, my, you look lovely,” she heard Mr. Henderson comment as he walked down a hallway from further inside the residence.

“Thank you,” Leslie blushed, flashing a nervous smile, and making a conscious effort to keep eye contact.

Mr. Henderson leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m pleased you could join me tonight. And I hope for many more evenings after this as well.”

“Yes, sir,” Leslie acknowledged.

“Well, let’s go outside to meet our guests. They should be arriving any minute,” Mr. Henderson remarked, looking at his very expensive watch. As he walked towards the door, the doorman opened it.

Leslie walked outside to the entranceway. Mr. Henderson walked to the pavement and appeared to look down the road in anticipation. Leslie positioned herself to his left, standing almost at attention. A bright breeze blew past, causing her nipples to suddenly harden again and for goosebumps to appear all over her body. Her initial reflex was to grab her arms to try to warm up, but she resisted the urge. She felt a sense of unease and vulnerability standing outside, exposing herself to the world.

Soon a very expensive black car pulled up. The driver exited and opened the door closest to the entrance. A sharply dressed, somewhat plump man about the same age as Mr. Henderson stepped out.

“Jacob, it’s been a while!” The man jovially greeted Mr. Henderson with some flavor of Eastern European accent and a firm handshake.

While this was going on, the driver opened the opposite door, and a naked woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties, stepped out and swiftly took her position at the man’s side. She had dark brown hair done in a braid that extended halfway down her back, light green eyes, and what Leslie guessed to be A or small B-cup breasts. She was also completely shaven and wore a choker collar similar to Leslie’s, as well as a pair of sandals, although hers had heels. She also had a healthy amount of full-body makeup on.

"Radek, good to see you again," Mr. Henderson greeted the man, reciprocating the handshake. “Might I introduce you to Leslie?” he then motioned in Leslie’s direction.

“Good to meet you, sir,” Leslie smiled, handing out her hand to shake, which Radek did.

“A very lovely woman, indeed. It is my pleasure," he replied.

Leslie then realized she wasn’t sure if she should have waited to see how he wanted to greet her—whether he might want to kiss her cheek or hand or something else—but he didn’t seem to take too much offense at her making the move to shake hands.

“And I’m sure you know Lucie.” Radek then stepped back and introduced the naked woman next to him.

“Yes, of course, how could I forget?” Mr. Henderson leaned in and kissed Lucie’s cheek, causing Leslie to feel even more foolish for not waiting for how Radek might wish to greet her.

Mr. Henderson stepped back, and Lucie stepped towards Leslie and offered her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Leslie instinctively stepped forward and reciprocated the handshake. “Uh, nice to meet you as well.”

“Now that introductions are done, let’s head in,” Mr. Henderson noted as he motioned toward the doors behind him.

Mr. Henderson and Radek entered through the doors, and Leslie and Lucie followed behind. Leslie remembered the advice Stephanie gave and kept an eye on Lucie to make sure she followed behind properly.

“Dinner should be ready soon. Since it is just us, I thought a more comfortable dining arrangement would be appropriate,” Mr. Henderson remarked, taking the group through the house and into a still large but comparatively modest dining room. There was a square dining table with a white tablecloth, four place settings, and flowers in the middle.

He then proceeded to pull one of the chairs out for Leslie. "If I may," he remarked, and it took her a second to register what he was doing.

“Oh, thank you, sir,” Leslie thanked and sat in the chair, nervously looking at the very expensive ... everything on the table.

Mr. Henderson let out a small laugh. “You don’t have to say sir every time, Leslie. I may be formal, but this isn’t a naval vessel,” he smiled as he took his seat to Leslie’s left.

“Ah, ye-yes.” Leslie had to consciously stop herself from adding the “sir” at the end. Lucie took a seat across from her, and Radek across from Mr. Henderson.

Almost immediately, a man pushed a rolling tray through a door.

“Ah, Tim, what do we start with tonight?” Mr. Henderson asked.

“This is a delicious shrimp bisque, with some special additional spices that Mr. Cheng decided to throw in. I must say, it is delicious,” the man explained as he put a wide soup bowl in front of all four of them.

“Excellent. I look forward to it. And what about the rest of the night?” Mr. Henderson inquired eagerly.

“The main course is veal Milanese served on top of a fresh salad, and dessert is an excellent apple cake,” Tim expounded.

“Excellent,” Mr. Henderson responded with a smile, to which Tim nodded in acknowledgment before exiting back through the door.

Leslie tried to observe everyone else to see what utensils they used and how they ate the soup, and she mimicked it as best she could.

The two owners then talked about the industries in which they were magnates. Radek was the owner of a significant green technology company in the Czech Republic, while Mr. Henderson ran a biotechnology company. They both lamented about how the unstable political climate was affecting their particular businesses.

Leslie sipped at her soup—which she thought was excellent—while trying to keep up with the conversation. Then she suddenly remembered that ... she was sitting there naked! How had she almost forgotten about that? Once the night got started, she had just gotten into such a swing of things that she just stopped worrying about it. Had she become so comfortable with the situation that she had forgotten she was baring everything for everyone to see? Perhaps the fact that no one was making any sort of deal out of it helped.

Tim returned with the cart, taking away everyone’s soup bowls and placing the main dish in front of everyone. On it sat a bed of lettuce and tomatoes, accompanied by a pair of exquisitely breaded veal cutlets. Once again, Leslie tried to mimic how everyone else was eating.

"So, Leslie, what is it that you do? Outside of working here.” Mr. Henderson abruptly inquired. The question took Leslie by complete surprise.

“Oh, uh, I am a student at a local university,” she answered curtly. He already knew this, so she wasn’t sure why he was asking.

“I see. What are you majoring in?” Mr. Henderson inquired further.

Again, surely he already knew this. Maybe he was just trying to make conversation? “Environmental Science, sir.”

“I see. Radek might be interested in hearing more about that. What caused you to take an interest in that career path? Are you interested in more of the policy or research and engineering side of things?”

“I—well, I guess environmental issues always interested me, so I thought it made sense. I figure a lot of environmental work will be done in the future, so it seems like a promising career path with a lot of future opportunities. I guess I’m leaning more towards the policy and management side of things right now. So far, I have liked it a lot.” Leslie was getting a bit more comfortable talking about something she had an interest in.

“Well, maybe in a few years, Radek could use you for his work over there in Europe,” Mr. Henderson smiled.

“Indeed,” Radek agreed, giving a slight nod.

“What about hobbies? Surely you also do things outside of work and school?" Mr. Henderson asked.

“Well, I like hanging out with friends, of course. I suppose outdoors stuff like hiking.” Leslie was trying to reach for anything. To be truthful, she had found herself far too busy to be able to indulge in very much activity short of the occasional hang out with friends.

“Outdoor activities? Perhaps that gives me some ideas. As you may have seen on the way in, we have some beautiful woods and such in and around the property here,” Mr. Henderson noted.

“Ye-yeah, I noticed that,” Leslie agreed, trying to sound as impressed as she could. It was impressive, but it was not exactly the foremost thing on her mind.

“Well, I hope to be able to get to know more about you over time, Leslie,” Mr. Henderson concluded before turning to Lucie.

Leslie listened to the conversation with Lucie now. She was a talented artist, sculpting clay models and even painting. Leslie found herself feeling extremely inadequate listening to the conversation about how talented she was. Here she was talking about hanging out with friends, and Lucie is a freaking artist? She glanced down at her dinner, which she had barely touched due to her busy conversation, and discovered she was no longer particularly hungry.

“We cannot thank you lovely ladies enough for your companionship and work tonight,” Mr. Henderson continued. “You certainly do make these occasions a lot prettier to look at,” he ended with a slight chuckle.

“Thank you,” both Leslie and Lucie responded at once. Leslie noticed that she was perhaps slouching a bit after her feelings of inadequacy earlier, so she sat up straight again, puffing out her breasts.

"Ah, finally, the pièce de résistance,” Mr. Henderson remarked as Tim came through the door again. Leslie looked down at her plate and wished she hadn’t left half of the main meal.

“Baked apple cake with our premium vanilla bean ice cream, made by our very own chef,” Tim expounded as he picked up the dinner plates and placed the dessert plates in front of everyone. Leslie did have to admit it looked delicious.

Tim then retreated once again. Leslie carefully cut a piece of pie and a small bit of ice cream, trying to make sure she didn’t spill it on herself, and took a bite. It was exquisite, as was everything else here. Despite her lack of appetite during the last course, she felt finishing the dessert wasn’t going to be a problem. She was free to enjoy it while the two owners continued talking business with each other. Finally, once everyone was finished, Mr. Henderson stood up.

“That was excellent. Leslie, can you go get some glasses of water and some chocolate-covered strawberries from the kitchen and bring them out to us on the patio? I’ll also have a glass of French 75.” He then looked towards Radek to see if he wanted anything.

“Oh, I’ll just have a wet martini. What about you, Lucie?”

“Water is fine with me,” she replied simply.

Leslie waited to see if there was anything else, and after a couple of moments when it became apparent there wasn’t, she nodded at Mr. Henderson. “I will get that for you right away, sir.”

She turned and headed towards the door Tim had gone through. She wasn’t sure if this was right, but she knew Scarlet was in the kitchen and knew Tim likely came from there. Upon entering the kitchen, she looked around and spotted Scarlet. She walked over to her, flashing a beaming smile.

“So, I need a French 75 and a wet martini,” she relayed the order, trying to make sure she got it right. “Oh, and four glasses of water, and some chocolate-covered strawberries.”

Scarlet gave a smile. “Coming right up on the cocktails. The strawberries are in the fridge over there,” she gestured over to a large stainless steel fridge. “I would grab a dozen. Also, the tray is in that cupboard; the plates are in that other cupboard. You’ll want to bring out some small forks; they are over there. I’ll have napkins here when you get back.”

Leslie almost felt dizzy with all the directions but believed she remembered it all. “Uh, thanks!” she sighed, a bit flustered, and then got to work. She first grabbed a carry tray and set it down, then four small individual plates. She then grabbed a medium-sized plate to act as a serving plate for the strawberries, as well as four small forks. She then went to the fridge, took out the container of strawberries, and carefully placed a dozen on the serving plate. Finally, she returned the tray to Scarlet, who was waiting for her.

“Here are napkins for the drinks, four glasses of water, the French 75, and the wet martini,” Scarlet relayed as she placed each item on the tray.

Leslie’s head was in a whirlwind as this was starting to remind her of her old waitressing days. “Thank you. Uh, the best way to the patio?” Leslie asked, realizing she wasn’t sure.

“Through that door, go to the hallway to the right and straight,” Scarlet answered, pointing to one of the doors.

“Thank you!” Leslie flashed an appreciative smile.

“Any time!” Scarlet happily responded.

Leslie then took the tray and carefully carried it down the hallway. She did not want to spill anything, especially the cocktails. She eventually made it outside to the patio, where there were four seats in a small arc and a table in front of all of them. Mr. Henderson was in the middle-left seat while Radek and Lucie were in the middle-right and far-right seats, respectively.

“Your French 75,” she said, handing a wine glass with a pale yellow drink in it to Mr. Henderson, who took a quick sip.

“Excellent as usual,” he remarked.

“Your wet martini,” she added as she handed the drink to Radek.

“Thank you, my dear,” he responded as he took the drink.

“Your water, Lucie,” she continued, handing Lucie the glass.

“Thank you,” Lucie politely replied.

“And the strawberries,” Leslie concluded, setting the plate of strawberries on the table, along with the stacked plates and forks, and the additional water on top of napkins.

Leslie promptly returned the tray to the kitchen and took a deep breath, waving at Scarlet one final time. She then hurried back to the patio and took her seat in the far-left chair. By this point, it was dark outside, and the patio was illuminated by the lights on the property.

“So first, I thought we could do a fun little game. It’s an answer-and-question game, I suppose. Radek and I will write down several questions on a set of cards, and then Leslie and Lucie will pick random cards and answer the questions,” Mr. Henderson explained as he pulled a box out from under the table. He opened it, revealing a set of blank, white cards and pens. He then divided the cards and pens between himself and Radek. “Maybe ten questions each?” he surmised.

“While we are writing the questions, why don’t you two stand over there in front of us?” he then added. Lucie glanced at Radek, who nodded back, giving her consent to follow the instructions. Leslie nervously moved into position as the two men were jotting down questions. Soon, they combined their cards, and Mr. Henderson shuffled them, placing the stack on the table.

“Okay, Leslie, you go first,” Mr. Henderson instructed.

Leslie walked forward with trepidation and picked up the first card. Of course. What else did she expect? “Who is the weirdest person you’ve had a sex dream about?” she read. Leslie pondered exactly the nature of “weird” they might have in mind, although she felt the answer would be the same regardless.

“In high school, I had a thing for my math teacher. That might have included, um, having some interesting dreams about him,” she answered. She could feel herself start to blush hard. She hadn’t told that to anyone because, well, no one had asked before. Besides, it was too embarrassing to admit.

“I bet he regretted missing out on that,” Radek chuckled, “great question!”

Leslie let out a small sigh as Lucie picked up her first card.

“Do you prefer using your tongue or fingers when pleasing other people? Definitely tongue. Fingers allow easier access, but nothing is more sensual than tasting the other person's excitement,” Lucie confidently replied.

“Very nice answer,” Mr. Henderson complimented with interest.

Leslie had to admit that she was pretty impressed with the answer, too. She then grabbed her next card. “If I could only have sex in one position for a month, what position would it be?” She thought for a moment before answering. “Uh, probably cowgirl. It’s the most comfortable and one of the more fun positions anyway. I think I could do that for a month straight and not get bored with it.” She was surprised at how easily she was able to answer that one.

“I’m sure your partner would agree with that one,” Radek grinned, with Mr. Henderson nodding in agreement. Now it was Lucie’s turn again.

“Which would I prefer: dominating or being submissive in bed? I like being the dominant partner. I know Leslie may be surprised to hear that given our job, but I like turning my partner into my little bitch.” Lucie had a lurid grin as she answered.

“Ho ho ho, I wasn’t expecting that either,” Mr. Henderson gleefully reacted. Radek had a knowing grin on his face in response.

The two girls answered several more questions posted by the two owners. However, before long, it was the final round. Leslie let out a sigh and picked up her last card. “How do I feel about shower sex? I've actually never done it before. But I would imagine it would be interesting and fun.”

“Oh really? We’re going to have to find a way to change that at some point,” Mr. Henderson pondered with a laugh. Leslie remembered that she still had to decide if she wanted to do this again, with all the requirements. She figured that was perhaps one advantage of doing so: Mr. Henderson might get her to try things she hadn’t done before.”

Lucie picked up her final card. “What sexual activity do you think is underrated? You know, this might sound weird, but grinding against a man’s penis with my pussy. No intercourse. Just grinding until we both orgasm.”

“Oh, excellent opinion,” Mr. Henderson once again enthusiastically reacted. He then collected the cards strewn on the table. “Okay, so it’s getting late, and there is one last thing. Could you ladies please move that bench to where you are currently standing? He pointed to a wooden bench with a padded seat but no sides or back.

Leslie was curious what this was about as she and Lucie walked over to it, picked it up in unison, and moved it where instructed.

"Radek and I would like you two to sixty-nine each other until you both orgasm," he instructed

Leslie’s heart skipped a beat. She knew this would be part of the job but wasn’t necessarily expecting it on her trial day: having sex with a woman she had just met today in front of two men who were going to gawk over them? Then again, why shouldn’t she have expected it? This is not only a trial run for her to see if she likes the job, but a trial run for Mr. Henderson for whether he likes her as well.

“Have you done this before?” Lucie asked Leslie softly, giving her a soft kiss on the lips afterward.

“Uh, not really,” Leslie truthfully responded, a little flustered by the kiss.

“Okay, it may be better if you are on top then,” Lucie suggested. She walked over and laid down on her back on the bench. She then helped direct Leslie on how to position herself.

Lucie grabbed a hold of her hips, and Leslie leaned forward so that her face was over Lucie’s pussy. She looked over at the men, who were simply sitting there waiting for them to get started. She then felt Lucie start to kiss and suck around her clit, causing her to gasp. She then started rubbing her tongue around Lucie’s clit as well.

Leslie found it difficult to not wiggle so Lucie could do her work. She placed her hands on Lucie’s thighs as she pushed in deeper, running her tongue through Lucie’s folds and back up to her clit. She let out another moan as she felt a jolt of pleasure.

Leslie could feel her heart pounding. This was so many firsts for her. Her first time with another woman. Her first time being watched. She likely would not have done either of those without prompting, but now that she was doing it, she was getting excited.

However, that didn’t stop her from feeling somewhat inadequate. She was certain Lucie had done this many times and fully understood what she was doing. And while Leslie knew her way around a woman’s parts, she hadn’t gotten to please another woman before. She just hoped she wasn’t terrible.

She felt another surge of pleasure stream through her, the tickling sensation where Lucie was working on her growing. She decided to work on Lucie more aggressively, trying to feel some of the things Lucie was doing to her and doing that herself. She slipped her tongue between Lucie’s labia, teasing her opening, and then ran it back up and circled her clit again.

The two women had turned into a moaning, writhing mess on the bench. The two men watched in silence, enraptured by the scene.

Leslie was enjoying getting eaten out too much and was so busy concentrating on doing a good job with Lucie that any thoughts of the two men watching left her mind. She was aware they were still there. She just didn’t have the mental bandwidth to concern herself with them at the moment.

Another jolt of pleasure interrupted her train of thought. She moaned as the feeling inside of her got stronger. She must have reflexively started raising her hips because Lucie grabbed her butt and pushed them back down. She was working Lucie as well as she thought she could, feeling both of their bodies get hotter.

Lucie suddenly tensed up and let out a loud moan. Leslie shifted to licking and sucking on her clit entirely as Lucie continued to orgasm, hoping to stretch it out as long as possible. Leslie was a bit surprised that she had caused Lucie to orgasm first, and it just increased her excitement that she had been successful.

After only a few more seconds, Leslie succumbed as well. She could have let out a scream, except it felt like her lungs were empty and unable to provide the air necessary. She clung to Lucie’s thighs as all the muscles in her body tensed up at once, and her brain went white. A small squeak was the only thing that seemed to emanate from her until her muscles let up and she let out a giant exhale.

She lay there trying to catch her breath when she heard the two men start to clap. She wearily looked over and saw that the two owners were giving them a standing ovation.

Leslie figured she should probably get off of Lucie now, content that at least the two men enjoyed the show. She awkwardly swung herself off the bench and stood up, still dazed. She didn’t notice the wet mess on her face or the streak of liquid running down her thigh. Lucie stood up, also catching her breath but otherwise unfazed by the experience.

“Oh, come over here, Leslie,” Mr. Henderson beckoned her. She slowly walked over to Mr. Henderson, and he let out a laugh. “You look goofy right now,” he remarked. He grabbed a napkin and wiped her face off. "Here," he said as he wiped. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Uh-huh,” Leslie dazily answered as she slowly recovered.

“Unfortunately, it is time for our guests to depart.”

Mr. Henderson and Radek appeared to be engaged in some concluding remarks as they made their way through the house. By the time they got to the door, Leslie finally felt pretty clear-headed again.

“I had an excellent time, as usual, Jacob. And I also have to compliment you, Leslie. You did a fine job for your first time on the job.” Radek complimented.

“I have to agree. She was superb.” Mr. Henderson added.

Leslie blushed hard. “Th-thank you …” She didn’t know what to say.

“Good night, Leslie,” Lucie added, hugging her.

“Good night,” Leslie responded.

“Good night, beautiful,” Radek smiled, leaning in and kissing Leslie on the cheek. Mr. Henderson performed a similar goodbye to Lucie.

“And I will hopefully see you again soon, Radek,” Mr. Henderson remarked, shaking Radek’s hand.

“Hopefully,” Radek concluded. Then Radek and Lucie entered their car and drove away into the night.

“You did excellently. I hope you will consider working here full-time,” Mr. Henderson said as he turned to Leslie with a beaming smile. “Do you have any questions or concerns? Anything?”

Leslie pondered when a question suddenly popped into her head.

“There is one thing about this, well, whole deal that I’m curious about,” Leslie started.

“Yes?”

“Why don’t, well, you—the owners—get involved? I remembered Andrea saying something about owners typically not involving themselves with their pets. I wondered why.”

“Were you hoping I would get involved?” Mr. Henderson grinned slightly.

“I guess I was too busy to consider it at the time. I just find it curious that the owners just watch is all. I hope that’s not a weird question.”

Mr. Henderson let out a little laugh. “No, it’s okay. I understand. I suppose there are a variety of reasons. The norms for this arrangement have evolved so that owners don’t usually get involved. Sometimes owners just don’t want to get involved. They like keeping a professional distance. I suppose that explanation applies to myself. Sometimes guests and owners don’t want to engage with the others around. It just became easier to develop the expectation that owners don’t get involved.”

“Oh, I see. I guess that makes sense,” Leslie replied with a nod. It did make some sense, Leslie admitted to herself. This was an employee/employer relationship still, despite what she did, and she could see the employer wanting to keep a certain distance. And even if Mr. Henderson wanted to fuck her, Radek may not want to see or engage with that.

Mr. Henderson then continued. “I say it is a norm, but it is not necessarily absolute. I know of circumstances where owners, guests, and pets engaged in activities together. It also sometimes happens if a pet is entertaining his or her owner alone.”

“I see,” Leslie acknowledged again, nodding some more in understanding. A lot of those reasons may not apply if it is a pet and owner by themselves.

“Anything else?” Mr. Henderson asked.

“I don’t think so,” she answered, with no other questions coming to her mind for the time being.

“Have you decided if you want to do this full-time?”

Leslie pondered. “Can I sleep on it?”

“That's not a problem, but if you can give an answer within the next couple of days, I would appreciate it. If you decline, I’d like to search for another prospect as soon as possible.”

“Yes. Of course,” Leslie nodded. “I guess I should go clean up and stuff.”

“Yeah, you’re on your post-hour now. Stephanie will take you home when you’re ready. You’ll be compensated for the full post-hour, even if you are ready to go before midnight.”

“Thank you,” Leslie smiled.

“And again, you did great,” Mr. Henderson smiled back, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek, causing Leslie to slightly blush.

Leslie made her way back to the locker room, placing the collar and shoes back in the locker before making her way to the shower.

As she washed all of her makeup off, she started to think. Did she want to do this? She did have fun tonight. While it was awkward at the start of the night, by the end she had felt normal—or at least as normal as one could expect to feel while socializing naked. The whole experience was not as bad or awkward as she feared it might be.

Also, Mr. Henderson appeared to be as nice of an owner as one could hope for. He might have been just putting on a show for her trial performance, but his other employees appeared to like him. While Leslie felt like there would be some feeling of commitment once a permanent contract was signed, there would be nothing preventing her from walking away if she decided to.

The main catch was the matter of intercourse. Was it really that far beyond what she had done tonight? She had already crossed the threshold of having sex with someone she didn’t know existed the day before, and she didn’t feel too bad about it. It was work, with no strings attached. And it was fun.

She felt sure she was going to feel guilty or dirty over having done it, but to her surprise, she didn’t feel much of that at all. She had some thoughts about what would happen if some of her friends or family found out, but that was worrying about what other people thought. She stood in the shower and let the water impact her, trying to distill her feelings down to their core, stripping away anything that didn’t matter.

She felt accomplished, that she had successfully gotten through the night with a much more experienced pet and two experienced owners seemingly without incident. Not only without incident but showered in praise by all of them. Surely the expectations weren’t that low? Was she really that good? She felt … sexy. As the night went on, she got increasingly unbothered by her nudity. Maybe proud of it would be too strong to describe herself by the end of the night, but also certainly not ashamed.

The more she thought it through, the more she convinced herself she wanted to continue. She would still sleep on it in case she had a sudden change of heart, but she was getting more of the feeling that the answer would be "yes."

After finishing her shower, she put on her clothes, grabbed her things, and found Stephanie. On the way out to the car, she ran into Scarlet, who was now dressed in a t-shirt and blue jeans.

“How’d it go?” Scarlet cheerfully asked her.

“Better than I expected, I guess,” Leslie smiled, still constantly evaluating the evening in her head.

“That’s good. So, will we be seeing you here again?” Scarlet inquired.

Leslie let out a sigh. "I haven't committed to anything yet, but ... probably."

“Yay! I think you’ll enjoy working here. Mr. Henderson can be a stickler for protocol, but he really is nice,” Scarlet replied with a smile of her own.

“Yeah, he seemed pretty cool,” Leslie concurred, finally making it to the car.

“Time to take you home,” Stephanie interrupted, ending the conversation between the two girls.

“Uh, good night, Scarlet!” Leslie waved as she got into the car.

“See you around,” Scarlet waved back.

Stephanie began the trip back to Leslie’s home.

“You should get paid in the next couple of days. My recommendation is to spend that money on whatever you need for a car. It will make it much easier for you to come and go as needed.” Stephanie advised as she drove.

“Yeah, I had been thinking about that,” Leslie conceded, lamenting that her earnings for the night were already pretty much spoken for.

Stephanie dropped Leslie off at her apartment. Leslie immediately flopped onto her bed without changing. Was this going to be her life now? Did she want this to be her life right now? What would the alternative be? Her working herself to death to maybe scrape by? Was that in any way better? Even if she felt that the night had been demeaning, and she surprisingly felt like it wasn't, would the alternative be any less so? Why did people view sex work as demeaning, but having to work sixty or eighty hours a week to be able to afford to live in a shack as not? It seemed so silly to her now.

Before long, Leslie started to lose track of her thoughts, and soon she fell asleep.