Admission Interview [mf] [femdom]

She checked her watch. He was late. She checked the clock on the wall. He was still late. Last interview slot in the day, and still he couldn’t find a way to be on time.

She had been stuck in this room all afternoon, interviewing one ‘bright hopeful’ after another, and wishing only for the day to end. The majority were nothing but insufferable. Smug teenagers trying so hard to mask the gaps in their knowledge and attempt to come off smarter than she was. How desperately she wanted to tell all of them where to shove it, but the university wouldn’t have that. Their admission numbers had to be filled, even if 99% of them were utter troglodytes.

‘It’s fine.’ She thought to herself. The weekend was nearly here, and she could look forward to getting blasted and fucked by the strangers she’d meet in a nightclub. She could almost be there now if it wasn’t for this useless latecomer. She reached into her handbag at the side of her chair. Popping open her compact mirror, she checked her face to see what the day’s events had done to her makeup. It was a warm room, and she had a habit of touching her face all too often, and so was pleasantly surprised to see an absence of smudging or uneven complexion. She angled the mirror down, catching sight of the black blazer she had on. Buttoned up and waist hugging, the blazer brought out the best in her figure and framed her bust well, cleavage happily on display thanks to an incredibly low-cut top. She knew the outfit might be a bit much for interviewing prospective students, but in all honesty if they couldn’t keep their nerve in front of a nice pair then they really weren’t what she was looking for in the first place.

Finally, she heard a knock on the door. Her colleague had at last come to inform her that the final candidate for the day had arrived. Impatiently, she barked at her colleague to go get him and wondered why they hadn’t just brought him along anyway. A few minutes later the colleague was back, leading in a somewhat nervous and out of breath young man. She put on her fake smile, and stood up to greet him, extending out a hand to shake. He looked different from the rest she’d seen today. Older, more adult, if only slightly. He was quite casually dressed for this sort of thing, though her own perceptions may have been skewed by how hard previous applicants had tried to impress with their overly warm, oversized suits. Still, his anxiety was still there for her to see, and she was looking forward to the next half hour poking and prodding and just generally unravelling him the best she could.

Introductions over with, they both sat, and she took another look over the notes she had on him. He was older, a couple of years in fact. He decided university wasn’t the right choice after leaving school, and so took the time to travel. Or work. Or whatever it was she had down on the notes she had only skim read.

Opting to omit the various softball questions as to why he was here, or what he finds so exciting about whatever it was he wished to study, she curtly started the interview asking for an explanation of his lateness. It caught him off guard, and he went from his clearly rehearsed, faux relaxed posture, into one that was upright and defensive. He sounded off an improvised excuse about a road closure, and due to him driving, couldn’t possibly phone ahead to inform them of his lateness. She admired the quick thinking to an extent, but honestly wasn’t interested in an answer, more in making him squirm as he sat there, in his untucked shirt with no tie. She decided she would at least have a little fun this time.

As the interview went on, she settled back into the more standard questions, though would call out any half thought out or unprepared answers.

“So what would you say speaks most to you about our values?” She asked.

“Well, obviously the one that speaks to me the most is. Erm, this institution’s commitment to knowledge.” He replied, pride on his face.

“That isn’t a value of ours but do go on. Explain to me why a commitment to knowledge is so important to you.” She responded.

The pride had gone from his face, and his eyes looked around for an answer. Apparently, he seemed to think the answer lay in the region between her breasts, her seeing his eyes constantly landing there while searching for inspiration.

“I don’t think the answer is nestled in my tits, love, and I don’t think a commitment of knowledge is really something you hold dear. I have your grades right in front of me, they aren’t anything special.” She said, patience now gone.

He was silent, and she saw his face begin to turn red as she continued.

“I think maybe. Maybe this place isn’t right for you. You arrived late, know extraordinarily little about the course, and I worry if I ask you the name of this place you won’t actually be able to answer. Perhaps you should give us a miss and go back to travelling in the Far East. Alright?” She went on, not fully meaning her words but finally fully expressing her frustrations with the day.

He remained silent and looked quite insulted. She wondered why he hadn’t got up and left yet. As she pondered the reasons, from spinelessness to true desperation on his part, her heart began to race at how far she could take this.

“Are we done here, or is there something you would like to add?” She teased.

“Please don’t. I can’t leave here without something. It might be hard to understand but I really need this. My trust fund is gone, I really need to get an education.” He said.

She looked at him. Inspected him up and down. He wasn’t bad looking, and while did come across as both spineless and desperate, those were qualities she sometimes liked in men. Made them easier to direct. She knew he wasn’t university material and could happily bet that he’d drop out within the first year, but then again accepting him would get her admissions numbers over the line. She could slack off for the rest of the semester, really phone it in. Focus on the important things in life, like leaving work early. Still, nothing is free. She wanted something from him first.

“You really are keen to get in, aren’t you?”

He nodded.

“Well. I can’t promise anything, but I can certainly see what I can do. Stand up.”

He got up out of the chair.

As he stood there, her mind filled with the things she could get him to do. She needed to vent her frustrations, and he seemed the perfect candidate to do so. She moved the chair back a bit from the table she sat at, and down at her skirt. Her gaze returned to him.

“I want you to get on your hands and knees, and crawl toward me, to under the table. We’ll see if you are actually useful for something.” She said, fixing her hair and cleaning her glasses.

He was silent.

“Well, are you? The door is there if you must go, but don’t just stand there and waste any more of my time.” She said.

After the brief pause, he complied. As he moved on the floor toward her, she fussed in her chair, sliding her underwear off. She parted her legs and looked down on him as his face went under the top of her skirt. His eyes still had a desperate look about them, but now with an added arousal she found greatly enjoyable. His cheeks pressed against her thick, tanned thighs. She was smooth. Freshly waxed up to and including her vulva. Face now pressed into her lower half, she put a hand on the back of his head and pushed him further toward her, signalling he best start earning his place at the university.

He started by kissing her now fast wetting clitoris, and felt a stirring in his pants as he began to caress it with his tongue. She let out a loud, cathartic moan as the frustrations of the day started the process of being released. She rocked her head back in chair and put her legs up on the table. She kicked away the notes she had set out and pushed his head into her even more. His mouth was open wide, wrapped around her as he circled her clitoris with his tongue. It was large in his mouth, fully engorged with a taboo arousal. She kept held of the back of his head and began rocking on his face in her seat. Her breathing deepened as she did, as her other hand fumbled with the blazer, unbuttoning it, and exposing her top. She pulled it down and got her large breasts out from her bra for her to play with as he stayed between her thighs.

“Use your hands.” She commanded, in between breaths. “Put them inside me.”

He wordlessly slid a hand up toward her and entered a finger into her vagina, now soaked by both her, and his saliva. He massaged inside her with his finger, rubbing the tip of it on her front wall.

“More!” She cried; head arched so far back her glasses might fall off.

Another two fingers slid in, all three now massaging her G-spot. She continued to moan and cry out in pleasure, one hand still holding him to her, and the other toying with an erect nipple. The sensations were building up inside her, and in him too. His penis was fully erect, throbbing and pressing against his tight trousers. He wanted to get it out, stroke it a little at least to relieve some tension, but he didn’t dare. She hadn’t told him to.

As he continued moving his fingers inside her, he could feel her vagina tighten slightly around them, her breathing becoming fast and shallow. She dug her acrylic nails into the back of his matte hair and increased the speed at which she moved on his face. His tongue could barely keep up, and he ceased moving it independently from the gyration of her hips as she fucked his face. She was drinking in the building pleasure felt up and down her body. In her mind too she was loving it, having finally found a way to express her feeling toward the endless, useless humans she saw all day. Finally, she had gotten them to do something for her, find a use for them at last.

As the deep, warm feelings of a coming orgasm raced across her skin, she felt a unique build-up of pressure between her thighs. A sharply escalating sensation that yearned to be released. She grasped his head with both hands as the feeling peaked and it released all over him. She screamed as she ejaculated all over his face, pushing so far back into the chair she nearly fell back, legs twitching uncontrollably atop the table.

His face was covered in her, particularly the mouth. It was thick, warm, and slightly sticky, but clear and lacking in any creamy or milky texture.

She exhaled sharply and relaxed for a moment in the chair, her legs still up and all over the place. She looked down at him between her legs, him now moved away from her slightly. She was pleased with the mess she made on his face. The look of someone so coated in the physical result of her own arousal got her hot. She wanted a closer look.

“Get up.” She said, pointing to the chair he was sitting at earlier. “Take those stupid clothes off and sit back there.”

He promptly ripped his shirt off as he stumbled toward the interviewee chair. As he removed the lower half of his clothes, a prominently erect penis bounced out of his underwear. She looked at it and smiled somewhat, pleased to see the tip damp with precum. A sign that a little bit of her previous frustrations had transferred to him.

Naked, and now sat, she came atop him. They were face to face, and as she wrapped her legs over his, she guided his penis inside her with a free hand. He felt the warmth of her envelop him as she descended onto him. From the tension that had built since his face was glued to her vagina, he felt ready to finish already. The way she drew her plump thighs as close together as they allowed, and her large dangling breasts that had popped out of her shirt were certainly not helping.

“I am going to fuck you until I am satisfied. You won’t move unless I say, and you won’t come inside me until I tell you to. Understand?” She said.

Again he complied, and she began moving herself slowly atop him. She put her arms on his shoulders, hugging him slightly for support, instructing him to take hold of her as well. She started to pick up speed, the noises she made increasing in volume as her erect clitoris rubbed up against his pubis. She looked down as she rode him, again inspecting what remained of her on his face. She smiled, riding him harder from seeing it. She ran a hand across his face, scooping some of it up. With a look of utter glee she smudged it around his face, pushing a thumb deep into his mouth for him to clean off.

Her movements had turned to energetic bounces, and felt the pleasure of it all go from deep inside her all the way to the tips of her dark pointed nipples, themselves swaying in the air following her momentum. Her breathing matched the rhythm of her body, a mix of exercise and arousal. He felt her weight each time her thighs collided with him, them and her warm slippery vagina wrapping him in an irresistible comfort. He felt the sensations in his penis start to build and moaned deeply. She looked down at him, even grabbing his chin and lower jaw with a hand.

“Don’t you even think about finishing. We are not done. If you finish, I won’t get off you until I am.”

She thought of striking him, there and then across the face, but decided not to. Instead, she rested a hand firmly on his neck. Not enough to choke, but enough to remind him who was in charge. She reangled herself, so her clitoris more directly rubbed against him. He watched as her upper body grew more flushed and she became louder. She cupped and grasped at her own swaying breast, and her movements became a gallop. She was climbing, soon to summit the ascent of her arousal and bask in another climax. The sight of her drew him ever closer to the edge, fast approaching a point of no return, and hoping she reach hers before he did.

“Come in me, fill me!” She bellowed at the top of her voice, head thrown and back arched.

She felt as he plastered her insides with his semen, not slowing down for an instant as she herself ejaculated in tandem, creating an explosion of sticky mess between them.

She clung onto him, nails digging into the back of his shoulders. Her legs were weak, and still shaking somewhat from her orgasm. She felt relieved, having joyfully achieved the catharsis she was chasing.

They dressed separately, he much quicker than her. He looked more relaxed, but she could still see that something in his eyes. A desperation quieted, but still there. As he promptly headed for the door and away from all this, she spoke.

“We will be in touch in the next 2 to 4 weeks with our decision.” She said, checking her face in her compact mirror.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/h12imx/admission_interview_mf_femdom