Show Us Your Enthusiasm
by Mia Sumner
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Log in as a supporterKathy fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat. The leather of the interview chair felt unforgiving and sticky against her thighs. Was she sweating, it felt like she was sweating. As soon as she thought it, a trickle of sweat snaked down her spine, clinging uncomfortably to her blouse. The two interviewers sat, impassively, opposite her. She’d heard all these questions before, she was prepared for this. She could get this job!
“What size are your breasts?”
The question hung in the air, as the male interviewer waited for an answer. Kathy glanced first at him and then at the woman next to him, she must have misheard, surely. He couldn’t just have asked… that? His eyes were like lasers, burning through the fabric of her blouse, as though stripping her bare in his mind. She shifted uncomfortably in the chair.
The female interviewer raised her eyebrows, clearly also waiting for an answer. Her gaze somehow colder and more clinical, as though she was assessing Kathy like a piece of choice meat. Kathy swallowed, her mouth dry. She wanted to protest that this was not relevant, that it was highly inappropriate. She also really wanted this job.
“Umm… 36C.” Her voice was small, barely more than a whisper, and her cheeks reddened as she answered.
The man glanced at his female companion, who nodded, as though verifying. Both of their eyes remained fixed on Kathy’s chest. The room felt stiflingly hot, the only sound the frantic thump-thump-thump of her heart echoing in her ears. She bit her lip, not knowing where to look or what to say next as the seconds dragged out like minutes.
“Show us.” This time it was the woman speaking. She sounded, rehearsed, as though she did this a dozen times a day. The man’s eyes were still focused on her chest, as though he could expose her tits just by staring.
Kathy’s heart hammered in her chest. Could she do this, should she do this? She wanted the job so badly, but at what cost? Surrendering her dignity, her self-respect? Hands trembling, she reached up and began to unbutton her blouse. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons, clumsy and uncoordinated. One button, then the second, then the third and the fourth. Each button felt like a piece of her dignity being stripped away. Cool air kissed her flushed skin as the fabric parted, raising goosebumps despite the heat.
The overhead lights glinted off the moisture on her skin, making her breasts look even more exposed and vulnerable. Two sets of eyes stared intently at her. Her cheeks flamed red as she exposed her breasts to these two strangers. Unable to hold their gaze, she glanced down, looking at the faint blue veins tracing patterns across their surface of her chest.
A predatory gleam lit the woman’s eyes, as she leant forward licking her lips, a gesture that sent a shiver of fear and excitement through Kathy. The man’s breath hitched, his nostrils flaring as he drank in the sight of Kathy’s exposed breasts, his eyes glazed with lust. No one spoke, and the silenced weighed heavily on Kathy as she sat there with her boobs hanging out. Was this humiliation worth it, she wondered, did she really need the job this badly? Could she ever look herself in the mirror again?
Kathy’s body felt disconnected from her mind somehow, like a puppet on strings. Her nipples tightened, betraying her arousal despite the shame. Breathing in shallow gasps, she sat there, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her breasts felt heavy and exposed, like ripe fruit offered on a platter.
“We value… enthusiasm, Ms. Jones. Show us how enthusiastic you are.” It was the woman who spoke, her voice smooth like velvet over steel.
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