The Interview

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: General Erotica  |  House: Stripping and Humiliation

Some time ago, I submitted a version of the story below to another site, sadly no longer, and received correspondence from a writer of this sort of fiction I greatly admire. He expressed interest in my storyline and suggested it could be developed further. I was very pleased and proud this excellent writer, Gocarty, continued the story and has graciously granted me permission to post the entire result here as a collaborative effort.


Charles Grosvenor sat back in his chair and smiled sardonically at the older man. He felt in complete control; all feelings of inferiority had been left behind this time. He confidently predicted he was going to sail through this interview with flying colours. Steepling his fingers, his elbows resting on the padded grey leather arms of his chair, he leant back and casually raised his right leg to rest his ankle on his left knee. He felt good. He knew he looked good. He glanced at the expanse of wrinkle-free claret coloured lisle sock that disappeared under the knife-edge creased pearl-grey worsted trousers which framed his long and well-developed legs. Another glance told him his discreet and understated gold cufflinks were just sufficiently visible between the maroon satin lining of his suit jacket sleeve and the brilliant white of his crisp double-cuffs. His wine and grey striped silk tie lay neatly on his unruckled shirt front. Cool, relaxed, yet alert, Charles recognised that he was impressing the managing director and his smile turned to one of satisfaction.

He congratulated himself that he felt so much in charge of the situation. He positively oozed confidence. What was it Edward had told him? To imagine the interviewer in his underwear? Charles felt sure that the man sitting opposite him now would be sporting something conservative and cellular. The picture of this slightly portly man reduced to a pair of aertex trunks and a singlet to match came vividly to mind. It worked. Good old Edward. Charles knew that this interview would be conducted on his terms. But, of course, the confidence had been with him ever since he had stepped into the shower that morning to begin his long preparation. Travelling first class up to town had set him up, as had taking a taxi rather than the more usual Underground. There had been a definite spring in his step as he had bounded up the steps to the massive front door. He had marvelled at the confident strides he had made across to the reception desk. He had timed his arrival to perfection. Somebody had 
just arrived looking for him to escort him to the fifteenth floor. He had sauntered with an air of braggadocio along the central aisle between the open plan office areas, unable to resist a swift caress of a taut female backside bent over a photocopying machine.

He remonstrated with himself gently. "Charles, Charles, control your basic urges for, be sure, they will get you into trouble". How prophetic those softly muttered words proved to be, he, of course, had no way of knowing.

But retribution did not leave him waiting long before striking its return shot.

"Ah, Veronica, good girl," the managing director purred in patronising fashion, "I'll be taking Mr Grosvenor up to meet the Board in ten minutes or so. Would you like to give us another ten minutes after that, and then bring in the tea and coffee?" Turning his attention back towards Charles, he asked, "Would you prefer tea or coffee, Mr Grosvenor?" and raised a solicitous eyebrow in what he earnestly believed was Roger Moore fashion.

"A cup of tea would be most acceptable, thank you, Sir," Charles smiled graciously back and let his eyes take in the girl, Veronica, who stood there.

As he met her gaze, the intensity of it startled him somewhat. It was then that he realised she was the very woman whose posterior he had patted at the photocopying machine. He tried to smile an apology. Her eyes met his with a cold glint of blue fire; her expression was set in stone. He felt slightly unnerved by this, but as she silently withdrew having taken their drinks orders his mind was quickly working again to shine to perfection under the managing director's cross-examination.

Charles was in full flow when she entered the Boardroom about ten minutes after he had been introduced to the Board and had begun his address. She held the door open for the waitress to carry in the large tray, quietly dismissed her and began pouring herself. He knew he had done well. He knew he had impressed. He knew the interview was nearly through. He thought he knew the job was his for the asking. He didn't know that the biggest hurdle had yet to be tackled.

Veronica placed the tray on an ormolu side table and began to pour. Charles found himself wondering if she was listening to what he was saying. He wondered if she too was impressed. She arrived at his elbow, a cup of tea in one hand and a milk jug in the other. She waited patiently for him to finish. Conscious of her closeness and the unsettling influence of her perfume, Charles faltered for the first time. Smiling a little foolishly, he looked up at her.

Excuse me, gentlemen," she said glancing round the table embracing them all with a smile, "do you take milk in your tea, Mr Grosvenor?" she enquired evenly.

"Yes please, just a little," he said, and then turned his attention back to the managing director.

It was then his nightmare began. Suddenly, and entirely unexpectedly, a cascade of hot tea hit him in his solar plexus, soaking jacket, shirt and trousers. The heat - particularly felt at the fork of his legs - made Charles leap up with a very mild oath, under the circumstances. As he did so, his shoulder apparently caught the milk jug, knocking it from Veronica's hand and spilling the contents all over his already tea-stained suit and splashing onto his shirt.

"Oh goodness, how careless of me! I am most frightfully sorry," Veronica said in the most coldly insincere tones Charles thought he had ever heard. 

Consternation followed, during which several of the directors rose also and stood there rather impotently, not knowing what to do for the best. A startled glance in her direction assured Charles that his suspicion this retaliation might have been deliberate was entirely correct. He looked down at himself in disbelief. He was saturated through to the skin. His sodden shirt lay stuck to his chest and stomach, the pink flesh colour showing through all too clearly. His trousers clung to his broad thighs and emphasised the bulge of his genitals in a most demeaningly obscene way and he surreptitiously plucked at himself there in an effort to prevent the outline of them being quite so obvious and eye-catching.

"Good god, man! No time to stand on ceremony. That's a Savile Row suit if ever I saw one! Get it off now and let Veronica have it. She'll know what to do best," the managing director said sharply.

Thoroughly bemused, Charles turned to look at the m.d. as he rather feebly tried to shrug off his sodden jacket. It was then he became aware of hands working feverishly at his belt buckle. Startled and aghast at what he saw, he looked down to see Veronica on her knees, a look of grim triumph on her face as she ripped open his zip and tugged the soaking trousers down his thighs.

"Look here," he began foolishly, but she brooked no argument, lifting each foot forcefully as she dragged him free from his trousers.

Shocked and embarrassed, he glanced down at his dampened bare legs. She had already pulled off his shoes leaving him looking foolishly vulnerable in socks and sock-suspenders.

The clinically efficient Veronica had bundled up the suit, claiming to know possibly the one outfit in London who might be able to save the suit, as she ran her eyes over his badly stained shirt. Swiftly she lunged at him before he knew what was happening and with feverish fingers tore open each button in record time. Brooking no argument, she pulled it from his protesting shoulders leaving him standing, with just his damp tie hanging forlornly between his well-developed pecs, in a pair of pure white sea island cotton boxer shorts. At least, that is what they had been when he had stepped into them that morning in a confident and almost carefree manner. Now they were a sad and limp pair of skin clinging tea-stained underpants which had been made virtually transparent by the liquid they had absorbed. Charles looked at the fourteen members of his interview panel in alarm and despair. Every man was staring intently at him, eyes poring over his nakedness, taking almost a morbid delight in his discomfort. Like a startled rabbit, hypnotised by the manic behaviour of a stoat intent upon its prey, Charles stood helplessly as Veronica smoothly stripped him of his tie and then tugged at the elastic waistband of his boxers.

"No!" he cried in anxiety, and both hands lunged to prevent her from laying him totally bare before a fascinated audience. But he was too late. Instead his hands shot to cover his cock and balls from the intense gaze of fourteen pairs of eyes - fifteen pairs, if you counted the triumphant gaze from Veronica. She had succeeded in reducing an arrogant and chauvinist male into a demeaning piece of eye candy for the board members.  His perfect body – the big pecs, the washboard stomach, his oversized uncircumcised cock, his full, smooth buttocks – were so compelling that it was impossible any longer to think of him as a qualified applicant for a responsible position.  The men could only react to this erotic vision of a young stud who would seemingly do anything to get the job.

It was the stuff of which nightmares were made. Charles Grosvenor stood, as if in slow motion, rendered stark naked, save for his socks which only served to emphasise his exposure, in front of fourteen fully clothed men, whose wide eyes were focused irrevocably on his huge cock and balls, still bouncing from all the activity. Charles’ hands flew to cover his rudely exposed groin from the prying eyes that surrounded the unfortunate young man. Somehow, adding to and emphasising the nightmare quality of his enforced nakedness was the fact that he had chosen to don sock suspenders that morning with the clear resolve to present himself in a totally unwrinkled hosiery state. An embarrassed chuckle escaped from two of the board members. One was pointing at his socks and suspenders; the other pointed at something a little bit higher. What was worse, beneath the clasp of his cupped hands, incapable of concealing all of what was happening to him, Charles Grosvenor felt a reaction he could not control. He pressed down firmer in panic as he felt his foreskin roll back and the shaft of his cock stiffen and grow.

"If you will bear with me, Mr Grosvenor, I shall try to find you something with which to cover your growing discomfort," Veronica purred, and left Charles all but stark bollock naked, flushed, foolish and fully aroused, in front of his future employers – or not.

There was a pause and then finally the chairman spoke up, “Well, Mr. Grosvenor, we thank you very much for your presentation.  It was . . . I was going to say ‘most revealing’ – but perhaps under the present unfortunate circumstances that would appear to be unkindly pointed if indeed highly appropriate. Suffice it to say, the whole affair has been very thought-provoking, I may say.  And please don’t worry about your present - er - condition – it was all just an unfortunate accident – which could have happened to any of us.  Let us adjourn now, as planned, to the next room, where refreshments will be served and the various members of the board can, on a more intimate – or perhaps in the embarrassing situation in which you have inadvertently found yourself, I should say informal basis - become more familiar with Mr. Grosvenor.  Veronica will, I am sure, return with your clothing as soon as possible, Charles – if I may call you that.”

Charles nodded, trying to remain composed, practically an impossible task as his oversized cock continued its slow climb to full erection.

“Very well,” the chairman smiled, tearing his fascinated eyes away from Charles’ groin, “come along, now.”

He grasped his young candidate by the upper arm and guided him, rather firmly, Charles thought, into the next room.

Behind them, the men followed the ill-assorted pair, one clothed in comfort, the other absolutely mortified by his rampant nakedness, into the buffet room.  It was a pleasant men’s club sort of room with a fireplace, overstuffed chairs and sofas and a table lined with food and drink at one end.  As Charles glanced apprehensively back over his shoulder, he was humiliated to see that every one of the men following them in had his eyes firmly focussed on Charles’ fully developed, well-rounded perfect exposed buttocks.

Charles’ nude body was clearly going to be the main attraction.  In the buffet room, he was immediately surrounded by older gentlemen, one of whom offered him a glass of wine.  This kept one hand out of commission, while all the handshaking took care of the other, making it impossible for him to even attempt to cover himself, let alone his flagrant erection.  As they drank, several men came by to congratulate Charles on his composure, “what with your bare arse and cock on display and all, you look very cool, calm and collected,” smirked one individual as he had the audacity to tap the rigid penis to emphasise the humour of it all.

Soon he was on his second glass of wine, and the conversation became more specific.

“You have such an amazing body!  You must work at it night and day!” one young executive of around his own age remarked; his admiration sincere and perhaps a little too intense.

“No, no,” Charles managed.  “Just the luck of the draw – natural build and all.”

“You’re joking! You may have been at the front of the queue when the Almighty was handing out your wedding tackle - I’ll grant you that in itself is quite something - but you can’t tell me all that muscle tone, that chest of yours, your washboard stomach, those godlike thighs, haven’t derived more than a little help from regular work outs.”

“Well,” Charles added, flinching slightly as the man drew him close, wrapping an arm round him and squeezing his far bicep. He felt he was losing some of the credit for his “amazing” body, “I do work out a few times a week, but nothing terribly strenuous.”

“Well, whatever you do, it certainly works.  Of course, that enormous cock of yours was nature’s gift, hm?” he growled almost lasciviously in Charles’ ear. 

The older man nodded and grinned knowingly, eyeing Charles’ giant hardon as it bounced slightly every time he moved – or even spoke.  The embarrassed young man searched his mind for some way to change the topic, but he hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast, and after two glasses of wine his head was no longer fully functional.

Before he could interject anything, another gentleman approached.  “Come, come, gentlemen!  While the young man’s cock is truly astonishing in its mere size, you’re missing the best parts.”  With that he took Charles by the elbow and spun him around, presenting his magnificent backside to the group.  “This is easily the most impressive arse I’ve ever seen on a young man as good-looking as our Charles.”

Charles went into shock as he felt the man run a firm hand over his right buttock.  “Yes, indeed.  You must admit that these smooth ivory melons are the most beautiful you’ve ever seen on a male.”

There was a general mutter of agreement and appreciation – even a smattering of applause – as they all admired Charles full round arse – the way it thrust out from Charles’ slender waist – the deep crack that drew every eye. He leapt and almost squealed as he felt a firm slap on his right bare cheek.

Just then the chairman approached, and Charles was relieved to hear him suggest that they shouldn’t monopolise the guest of honour.  He took Charles by the arm again and led him over to three particularly distinguished looking men, whom he recognised as the senior partners in the firm. As he was introduced to them, they made no bones about their focus of interest.

“That’s quite a piece of meat you have there, young man,” Mr. Daniels began.  “When you walked into the room, I’ll bet you hadn’t been planning on showing it off to the entire board, eh?”  he chuckled and gave Charles a dig just below his ribs.

“Well, I, for one, am certainly glad he did,” Mr. Morgan interjected.  “Charles, here, looked marvellous in that simply splendid suit, but I find this view a whole lot more compelling.  I’ve never seen the board so captivated during an interview before. Tell the truth, my boy, are you sure you didn’t happen to set the whole thing up with our Veronica to attract our full attention?  Damned clever move if you did.”

“Yes, in actual fact, we’ve been looking for just the right person for a new position we’re considering – one answering directly to the board – someone to be groomed for a position on the board, itself, perhaps.” The older man ran his eyes appreciatively all over Charles’ naked form.  “I think you’ll certainly fit the bill,” Mr. Evans smiled and even gave him a sort of leering wink.  “What do you say, my boy?”

Charles was taken aback – this wasn’t the way it was supposed to go.  What position were they referring to?  It didn’t sound like the one he’d been applying for.  “Well, of course, I’d be interested, but . . . .”

“Say no more!”  Daniels responded, brushing an imaginary crumb off Charles’ left nipple.  “You’ll start immediately!”  He named a salary that settled the qualms that Charles still had about taking a position without any discussion of responsibilities or title.  Calling for a moment of silence, he announced to the room that Charles had just accepted the position of associate director, answering to himself, Morgan and Evans.  Everyone applauded politely and raised a glass to toast their new young colleague.  Several came over and offered personal congratulations, patting Charles on the back (and occasionally the arse) in a collegial fashion.

Charles was still in a hysterical state of semi-shock from the surreal rush of events.  Mortified that his cock was still rigid – he was unable to soften it no matter what he tried.  Huge as it was, it pointed very nearly straight up and reached well above his navel.  It captured every eye and (it seemed) every thought in the room.

“Well, you may as well begin your duties immediately, dear boy.  For the time being, you’ll act as a general gopher for the three of us – fetching and carrying – until such time as you’ve been trained in the specific responsibilities of your position.  Do I make myself clear?”

Charles nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“Then be so good as to fetch the three of us another round of drinks,” and he rattled off their usual preferences.

Charles dutifully headed for the drinks table.  Along the way, several other older gentlemen stopped and congratulated him.  Now that his position had been defined, they were a little more upbeat – smiling broadly and giving him a quick squeeze and a pat.  Charles was more than slightly taken aback by how touchy-feely they all were.  He’d have expected a little more formality and reserve in such a shaming situation.  And some of them squeezed more than just his shoulder or his arm – by the time he reached the table, he’d been very thoroughly squeezed and groped, indeed, with the action about equally divided between his oversized cock and his full, voluptuous arse cheeks.

The return trip was even worse, with both his hands occupied with the drinks.  The entire way, there were hands all over his body – by the time he made it back to his employers, his cock was starting to leak a little precum and his nipples looked like rubber erasers.

“Very good,” Evans congratulated him.  “Your first duty, carried out in exemplary fashion!”  He laughed as he took his drink.  “Looks like the other board members have been sampling the wares, eh?  Hope that doesn’t bother you?”

Charles was at a loss for a reply.  “Well, er, not terribly, I suppose, sir.”  His face was pink with embarrassment at the way the talk kept returning to his enormous cock and bare bottom.

“Good, good.  It won’t happen very often – only the three of us have offices here in the building.  The others only show up for board meetings.  For the most part, you’ll have only the three of us to satisfy.”

The younger man jumped slightly as Evans reached out and began stroking his huge hardon.  Then Morgan, from behind, patted Charles’ well-padded right arse cheek and slowly ran his hand over its smooth surface, gradually edging his fingers down into the deep crevice between his cheeks. 

 Daniels chuckled, then reached out also and tweaked one of Charles’ rock-hard nipples.  “Yes, it looks as though you’re going to do quite nicely.”

He smiled as Charles gazed at him in stunned shock.  “We don’t have all that many board meetings, Charles, so why don’t you go get yourself a drink.  Then circulate for a while.  Let the others become more familiar with you, since this will be the only opportunity they’ll have until the next meeting.  We like our board members to enjoy these meetings, and they do seem quite fond of you already, so some socialising on your part would be good for team spirit, I think.  Try to spend at least a little time with each one of them.  Get to know their names and faces.  We’ll just sit here and watch for a while.”

He winked.

“Come on, now.  Get out there and spread some of that expensive booty of yours around, Charles.  And remember – after this reception is over, which is scheduled to be in another hour or so, you must come back here where we will be waiting for you.  The three of us will then retire to our offices for your introduction to the company and your first training sessions – one with each of us.  In these introductory sessions, each of us will be focusing on your initial training for a different area of your responsibilities.  With luck, your clothing will have been returned by the end of these sessions and you’ll be able to make your way home.  Tomorrow, then, will be your first full day on the job.”

Morgan chuckled again, patting his behind, and added, “And if your clothing doesn’t show up, we’ll work something out for you.  Never fear.”

After a final squeeze, Evans finally released his rock-hard cock.  He grabbed Charles’ hips and whirled him around to face the crowd of (by now) fairly inebriated board members.  “Off you go, then.”  Giving him a little shove and a friendly pat on his bottom, Evans smiled as he saw the new associate director’s big bare tits and arse quickly disappear as he stumbled into a swirl of welcoming pinstripes.

The senior directors smiled knowingly at each other as the pin-striped mass began to lurch about the room in somewhat irregular patterns, with occasional bursts of laughter booming out of the heart of it.  From time to time they caught glimpses of their stark-naked new associate’s fleshy arse and tits, usually half-covered by the hands of whichever directors happened to be standing closest to him.

Daniels leant over to Morgan’s ear. “That boy clearly has a great potential.”

“Indeed, he has,” Morgan responded with a wry grin, “and there’s no sign of it going down.”

“I wonder how he’d feel about us imposing a ‘dress-down Friday’ rule into his contract?” Evans mused, stroking his chin.

“That’s certainly something I dare say we could all ‘barein mind, eh, gentlemen?” and a slow chuckle spread among them as they toasted each other with their drinks, then turned to watch Charles Grosvenor’s agitated and mortified expression as he was apparently being subjected to further embarrassing molestation.

Submitted: July 01, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Nder. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



Really fun and humorous.

For my personal taste, I would have liked a little more diversity on the board.


Thu, July 2nd, 2020 2:47pm


Thank you for your comment. As to the diversity issue you raised, perhaps some of the board were black. I never thought to stipulate individual colour.

Thu, July 2nd, 2020 9:30am

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