Summer was coming and with it the summer workers. Vivian was sitting in her office, waiting for Paul, her assistant, to deliver the first of the many applicants. She skimmed the list, a small crease between her eyebrows expressing her apprehension. They had so many candidates, that day. It bothered her. She liked to take her sweet time and she just hated to be rushed during the interviews. But there wasn’t much to be done: CMBKTS was a seasonal worker’s dream. Four months of effort, after all, left the lucky chosen with enough cash to spend a lavish winter season. It usually attracted students, travellers and the poor souls in desperate need for a work VISA extension.
She sighed, burying her nose in the pile of papers once again, studying the medical record of her first interviewee. 24, reasonably healthy, with an average life success score and a good level of CVM compatibility, as highlighted by his most recent bloodwork.
His passport-sized picture really did not tell her much, as a pair of heavy rimmed glasses obscured the feature her soon-to-be patient. He was not one of their regular, she noticed with interest taking a last sip of her creamy coffee. She was pleasantly surprised when Paul escorted Josh Anderson into her office.
He wasn’t that tall, but he was broad-shouldered and soft. Not fat, but clearly unfit. His hair was dark brown, cut hastily and pointing in every direction. A pair of heavy rimmed glasses sheltered his big blue eyes, complementing is hipsterish look along with a well-kept beard that covered his strong jaw. His forced smile badly hid a lingering insecurity. He was also incredibly pale. Half-Scottish, he said, as if in self-defence.
That got him a plus in his application. Vey arbitrary and not that professional, but Vivian just loved to see them blush.
“So, Josh. Why do you want to work for CMBKTS?” she asked, without hiding her appreciation for the young man’s body.
“I am travelling the country,” he began, clearly uncomfortable.
Vivian raised an eyebrow. He really did not strike her as an adventurer.
“With my girlfriend. It’s my first time doing this backpacking thing.”
Now that made sense. Poor sob ended up being dragged around by a “gotta find myself” flower. She hummed in encouragement, scribbling something on the side of her board.
“She wanted us to like, get out of our comfort zone. And it’s good.”
His face said the opposite, but Vivian decided not to contradict him.
“It’s all good but she…we want to stay more. Our Tourist VISA is going to expire soon and Emma found a job as a waitress but we need a job to extend it and I saw the ad and…”
“Why are you here, Josh, really?” Vivian interrupted him.
“I told you, I am here for the VISA and…”
“You could get any other type of work. But you do know what happens here, right?”
He blushed, but he seemed at loss of words.
He was nervous. It was normal, really. He probably had no idea what he was getting into, his pretty head fogged by vaguely shaped conspiracy.
Despite CMBKT transparency effort, alternative milk production remained a taboo in civil society. Everybody bought it, drunk it, loved it, but the details of manufacture remained quite unpalatable and unwelcome in most conversations, usually brought up only by the most radical fruitarian or anti-CVM activist. Thank God that they were getting a TV crew soon enough. A good, informative documentary was exactly what the business needed.
“To put it simply, we are going to fill your testicles to the brink. Your sperm production will be increased, at the contrary of your chances of relief. And, when you are nice an ready, no leaking allowed, we are going to pump you dry. It is not going to hurt you, darling, do not worry. But it can be quite …” she bit the top of her pen, searching for the right word.
“A demanding occupation, to put it mildly” intervened Paul, that was standing quietly, his back against the wall, waiting for the call of his responsibilities.
“Yup. Demanding. That’s the word”, confirmed Vivian.
“Look, Dr, it can’t be more demanding than picking fucking strawberries down at the farm.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she said with a wry smile. He was somewhat getting to her nerves, but that was not necessarily a negative. The cocky ones were just so much more fun to break.
“Okay, if you are sure, please sign here. Great.” He did not even read the form. She reached for her gloves, snapping them on with a cheerful bounce. That was going to be fun.
“Now that the formalities are gone, we are going to see if you have what it takes to get a job at CMBKTS.”
Her eyes openly lingered on his crotch. Oh, yeah. He probably did.
Josh blushed, squirming on his chair. It was intentional. CMBKTS furniture was not meant nor for comfort, nor for cows. In his particular case, the plastic thing seemed to suffer as much as its host, struggling under the bulk of his body.
“Stand up, sweetie” Vivian asked, licking her lips. “And take off your clothes”.
***
Vivian circled him, taking her time. “Very good, very good,” she murmured to herself, absentmindedly caressing Josh’s soft sides. The young man shivered at the touch. His body was covered in a slight fuzz, with freckles sprinkled all over his creamy skin. The carpet matched the curtains, noticed Vivian, and it was equally shaggy, partly hiding his soft uncircumcised dick. He wasn’t that big, but the bulk of his weighty ballsack made his chubby shaft look somewhat small.
Adorable.
“You like what you see’” he asked, caustic, fighting his shame with a sham of smugness.
“I do, Josh. I really do. I can see you were born to be milked, dear,” Vivian continued with an unperturbed smile, her eyes lingering meaningfully on his breast. Josh’s nipples were abnormally large, looking even more so on his far from toned shape. He stiffened, uneasy as her gaze hesitated on that particular area.
Self-conscious much?
She had to refrain herself from reaching out. She really wanted to slide her hands down the man’s chest, pinching those rosy fat nubs until they were tight and hard against her fingers. But patience was an important virtue for a farmer like Vivian.
“I know you already passed the preliminary screening, but I am going to do a fast health check-up to avoid any possible mishap. We can never be too thorough when it comes to the health of the potential stock,” she explained, ever professional.
“Sit on the chair, please,” she asked, pointing at a dark blue gynaecological examination chair in the far side of the room.
Josh’s cheeks flushed. He had a clear idea of where that was going and he obviously did not like it.
“You can still give up in this phase,” Vivian reminded him, her tone gentle, tapping her pen on the border of her notepad. Josh shook his head and moved, only somewhat unsteady, towards the contraption.
“Good boy” cooed Vivian. Josh responded positively to the praise, his shoulders relaxing against the vinyl. That was always a good sign. She added another plus to her notes.
Easy to train.
Josh relief did not last long. He stiffened, retreating in the backseat, as Paul left his position against the wall to approach Josh naked vulnerable form.
“Don’t fret, honey. Paul doesn’t bite,” she reassured him. “Not until I tell him so,” she continued with a cold little laugh. Josh did not seem too reassured.
“Jumpy little thing, aren’t you?” Paul chuckled as he reached for his writs and began to buckle the restraints.
“Is that really necessary?” the man asked, his voice much less bold.
“We don’t want you to hurt your pretty face, darling. You have no idea of how many get nervous and fall down during the interview process,” said Vivian. “Isn’t it true, Paul?”
Paul nodded in agreement. Yet, Vivian noticed, there was a sensible hunger in his gaze. Seemed like their butterball prospect was just his type.
Oh, well.
Josh opened his mouth to complain again, but his resentment faded in a panicked yelp when Paul grabbed him by his waist, pulling him further down the chair.
“Legs in the stirrers” he continued, the request redundant as he manoeuvred Josh’s ankles in the metal frame.
Josh did not even fight, dumbfounded as he was. He wasn’t expecting to be manhandled and soon found himself secured to the thing. Paul’s big hand lingering on the inside of his tight a bit longer than strictly necessary, yet briefly enough not to raise any ground against his professionalism. Vivian noticed, but did not comment. Paul was a seasoned farmer, but it was impossible to stifle instinctual favouritisms. Plus, Josh was indeed a treat. The assistant was not being rough, not by any means, and yet his lovely pale skin was flushing even under the slightest amount of manhandling.
Josh squirmed, his breath fastening as he grasped the profound helplessness of his situation. He was mercilessly exposed; his legs obscenely open, spread by the stirrups, and his most private parts in full display.
“Shh, shh..” Vivian shushed him, distractedly petting his messy hair.
“This is part of the interview, honey. If you want this job, you need to get used to being inspected, babe. You should quit now if it is a bit too much. We have plenty of other young men capable to take a stance.”
Josh bit his lower lip, his brows furrowed, obviously wondering if he bit more than he could chew. Vivian waited patiently. She could almost see what was going through his head. The wage was, indeed, extremely good. It was a unique saving opportunity While he was obviously doing his best to keep it cool, his body was enjoying the humiliating predicament, his soft dick slowly swelling in an involuntary half chub. And how could he go back to Emma and tell her, once again, that he fucked up? What sort of man couldn’t get a job where all he had to do was staying still and cum?
Josh shook his head: “No, it’s fine. I want…I want to continue.”
Vivian rewarded his decision with a smile and a quick scribble on the side of her pad.
“Excellent then. Let’s get on with the interview then,” she said, positioning herself between his open legs and extracting a stethoscope from one of her lab coat’s pockets.
Josh stiffened as she pushed the cold metal against his plump form. His heart was pounding so loudly that she could almost hear it without the equipment.
“Breath, baby. Like this…”
Nice and healthy, despite his subpar fitness status.
The frenzied beat betrayed the obvious effort of the interviewee to appear stoic and untouched by the treatment. His cheeks were flushed, the rosiness spreading in heated patches all over his skin.
So cute.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/rsrl7l/a_job_you_love_part_1_fm_fdommsub_milking_hucow_i
Nice start, but I need part 2.
Updateme!