Melissa 18

I stared at Jake over my open can of Rolling Rock. "Another boring Friday night," I grumped. "I'm broke and stuck here with you. Six months out of college, with a degree, and I can't even find a job as a cashier, let alone one relevant to my education."

Jake laughed. He knew the criticism wasn't personal. I just needed to blow off steam. "Lance, something will turn up. Finish your beer and let's watch the game. It'll start in a few minutes." He turned on the TV and tuned it to BeIN, where the live soccer game from halfway across the world was indeed about to begin.

The next morning, I was combing through the classifieds in the newspaper when Jake's alert eyes spotted something. "How about this one, Lance?"

I looked at the ad. "Personal assistant needed for female executive. Call or email for interview." The ad listed hours in which to call, an e-mail address and a phone number. Surprisingly, Saturday was listed as acceptable for calling. I called the phone number provided at once.

The phone rang twice before it was picked up. An authoritative female voice came on the line. "Melissa Rogers speaking."

"Miss Rogers, I'm Lance Hendricks. I'm calling about the personal assistant position. Can I schedule an interview?"

"I'm actually holding a group interview at 5 p.m. today. Dress well for it. The address is --"

"Hold on one moment. Let me get a pen and some paper."

I wrote down the address -- and the directions -- she provided, and told her I would be there at 5 p.m. sharp. I prepped carefully, showering twice to be certain I was fully clean, wearing my nicest button-down shirt and my black slacks, and shaving my thin, short facial hair completely off. At 4:55, I knocked on the door. "Come in," came Melissa's powerful voice.

I entered. Melissa was big all around. She was at least 6 feet tall, and had to weigh 300 pounds. Her hair, black with a bit of gray in it, was in a tight bun. She gestured to a chair, and I sat down in it. There were 9 other people sitting in the row of chairs against the living room wall. Melissa stood, towering over us all.

"Welcome to my home," she announced. "Did you all bring a resume?" I handed mine over, as did all the other people -- 4 other men and 5 women. She quickly looked them over. "Now I'll ask all of you some questions."

I felt more nervous than I'd ever been as the questioning began. Each and every one of us had to answer in turn. The process took two full hours. Finally, it was finished.

Melissa paced slowly back and forth, carefully studying all of us, for a few minutes longer. No one dared to say a word. I was barely able to breathe. Just as the tension had reached an unbearable level, Melissa spoke. "Lance, please stay. The rest of you, leave now."

When everyone else had filed out, Melissa locked the door. I was still sitting in the chair she had assigned to me. "You may stand," she told me, and I rose nervously to my feet. To my surprise, she favored me with a slight smile. "Would you like some juice?"

"Yes, thank you very much," I told her. I excused myself to use the restroom, and when I returned, Melissa handed me a small glass, about half-full of what looked like orange juice. I drank it down in one swallow. It tasted like orange juice, too. I handed the glass to Melissa, who disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later.

"Let's go into the office," Melissa said. "I have just a few more questions."

"Yes, Miss Rogers," I replied. She led me into a large office and pointed to a comfortable recliner. I sat in it while she took a seat behind her desk. For some reason I was feeling somewhat lightheaded.

She lifted up my resume. "I see you just finished college. Why haven't you found a job yet?"

My brain felt like I was in a fog. "I don't know. It's the old problem of no one wants to hire anyone without experience, but I can't get experience if no one hires me."

"So, are you willing to do anything I ask if you become my assistant?"

"Yes, Miss Rogers."

"A little information on me. I'm 45 years old, single, no kids. So you're willing to do absolutely anything I tell you to do?"

"Yes."

"Good. Remove all of your clothes."

My brain didn't seem to be functioning correctly. I appeared to have no will of my own. I silently and quickly stripped. Melissa did likewise, letting her salt-and-pepper hair out of its bun. Her wavy hair came down to her shoulders.

Melissa led me to the bedroom, where she used four scarves to bind my limbs to the four bedposts. I lay still as she ran her hand delicately over my chest. My pole stiffened at her touch. I let out a soft moan.

Melissa leaned down and pressed her breasts against my face. Her large mounds were surprisingly firm. "Suck them," she instructed, and I obediently opened my mouth and latched onto a nipple. Her hands continued to gently tease my body, and I shivered slightly.

After I had switched back and forth between her nipples several times, Melissa lifted her chest away from me and adjusted her position so that her dripping slit was over my mouth. "I hope you know how to properly stimulate a woman with your tongue." Before I could respond, she lowered herself downwards. I licked along her slit, then sought out and sucked on her clit. After heating her up, I slid my tongue inside her. Melissa's legs locked around my head. I licked quickly, and soon she flooded my face with love juice.

Melissa's hands had been gently stroking my pole while I licked her. "Well done, Lance," she said, lifting up her body again. "Now I'm going to ride you."

She shifted her position again, this time sliding her soaking box down on my stiff pole. Her hands pinned my chest to the bed. "I'm going to use you for my own pleasure, boy," Melissa purred. She moved her hips rapidly, bouncing on my rod. Her internal muscles squeezed me every time she slid downwards. I shivered and let out lustful moans as she worked herself to several orgasms.

Each time she climaxed, her spasming pussy tightened around my cock. I felt my balls getting heavy with cum. Melissa felt it too, because she reached back with one hand to tease my nuts with her fingertips as she continued to bounce. "Mmmm, a nice big load in there, Lance. I'm going to get it all out of you." Her box seemed to squeeze me even tighter with every bounce. "I'm going to forcibly extract every drop of that nice young cum. You'd better fill me up."

Her words and her fingers proved too much. As she climaxed yet again, I erupted inside of her. Her thirsting pussy seemed to draw my cum straight from my nuts. When I finished, I lay spent on the bed, my breathing ragged as I tried to get oxygen back into my muscles. Melissa slid off of me and lay next to me.

"You're hired," she told me. "You start immediately. I'll have someone collect your stuff and bring it here."

"Thank you, Miss Rogers," I managed.

"No need to be so formal," she grinned. "I just fucked you, honey. Call me Melissa."

"I haven't felt like myself for the past couple of hours," I informed her.

Melissa giggled. "That wasn't just orange juice in that glass, Lance. You're now my personal slave. You'll find you can't will anything but obedience when I say something." I blinked in shock. "But don't worry. I like you a lot. By the way, I'm semi-retired and work from home. You'll be spending a lot of time with me in this bed."

"I like your thinking," I replied.

Two days later, my belongings were installed in Melissa's house. It's been a year, and being her slave has been a wonderful job so far...