Henry’s Job Interview

So, Mr. McCall, can I call you Henry? I’m Mike West. I own this place and I want to know, why do you want to work here?

I hate questions like that. I never have much to say apart from “I want a job here”

Sure, you can call me Henry.  But as to your question, well, I’ve lost my job at Hill’s Fine Meat, and I’d like to keep in the white slave industry. After working in it for 8 years now, the normal truck driving sort of job just doesn’t cut it. I would have liked to have stayed at Hill’s, but things happened.

About that. Is the story going around really true?

Well, shit. Might as well lay it out then.

Do you mean, did I really process Cindy Hill? Yes, it’s true. She, and a dozen or so of her Delta Gamma sisters, got swept up in a honey pot slave trap down town. We’ve had the White Slave Act on the books for 24 years now, longer than she’s been alive, you would think that the heir to “Hill’s Fine Meat” of all people would know better than to get drunk in public.  For that matter, she should have known that a three for one lady’s drink special, in the middle of the week, was a trap. Perhaps she thought that she would be able to skip out on it because of who she was, and that the rest of her sorority sisters would be processed. I don’t care. All I know is that at 4:30 in the morning, a nude ball gagged drunk coed looks just about like all the other nude drunk coeds with ball gags if you are moving fast.  Add in the fact that I hadn’t actually seen her in several years and didn’t know she had changed her hairstyle after she went to college. She had a pixie cut the day she was processed, but last time I saw her she had twin tails, like an anime girl. Well, with all that in mind, yeah, she went on a Vlad and I pushed the “spit the bitch” button. I do know that we had orders to process the whole batch as quickly as possible for some sort of Southern Hill’s Country Club meeting that morning. Some Chamber of Commerce annual meeting.  For what it’s worth, she lived until she was over the coals.  Mr. Hill didn’t see her until it was far too late.  I understand that he put on a big show about how important this meeting was, and that he was roasting his daughter for it. He didn’t have much choice.  Or he really didn’t care, I don’t know.  I do know that I got fired as soon as he came back to the shop. 

Well, there it is, laid on the table. The Eastlake Grand, the first place I applied at, for all their “Oh, we are so edgy, we trap women into being slaves” front they put on, more or less freaked when I admitted that I processed Cindy. Pfft, don’t they know that most, if not all, the women they “trap” into slavery are doing it deliberately. Doing a hi-mucky muck’s daughter that didn’t want to be converted, much less processed, must have hit a bit close to home for them, I guess. Their interview was, shall we say, very short after I told them I made the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the girl flesh business in the tri-state area a live roast. On a special machine, that just about guaranteed going over the coals alive if done in the next six to eight hours. For a function, he was putting on. I’m lucky that both the “complaint”  from the bar, the city court conversion, and the country club process order were 100% by the book, or Old Mr. Hill would be out after me with murder charges. As it is, I’m having a hard time finding a job in the white slave industry. So here I am at Spellbook Slaves, with my hat in my hand.

Hmm. Just out of curiosity, how many slaves did you processed during your time at Hill’s?

Well, 8 years, 250 working days a year, about fifteen a day, so call it around 30,000.  Plus or minus a couple of thousands.   Not all of those were spits, in fact, most of them were guillotined and then cut up for parts. I just ran the guillotine most days. Normally, only 2 or 3 spit roasts a day. Why is that going to be an issue?

No, it’s not.  I’ll grant that gives you and Josh a higher kill total than the rest of the staff put together.  The goth girls in the torture chamber might want to get in your pants for that.  Ask permission before you let them, they are slaves under a special agreement that doesn’t normally allow normal staff to have sex with them. If Issac, their owner, says you can, well, they are some of the best cocksuckers in Eastlake. But processing the wrong women will not be a problem here at Spellbook Slaves. The reason it’s not a possible issue is simple, really, we don’t bulk snuff slaves as a matter of business.   Plus, I don’t have a daughter, so there is that. The daughters, stepdaughters, and nieces of employees know that them being “kin folk” of a worker here isn’t protection from conversion. We have converted numerous, at least a hundred, daughters and stepdaughters, as it happens, not to mention a dozen or so wives over the years.  Not snuffed, granted, well, two of the wives were snuffed, but there were unusual circumstances there, but normally sold on the open market.  Actually, it’s a bit complex what slaves we do torture or snuff, but it boils down to a client requesting it, which happens much more often than you would think. Like six or seven snuffs a week.  Even more just want their slave tortured while they watch. We have a team of goth girls that do most of the torture and snuffing.  The torture chamber sees some sort of activity more or less 3 or 4 times a day, seven days a week.  We did have a contract with The Torture Channel to torture snuff a group of their former executives, but that has run its course. I’ve heard rumors that another branch of Global Media may want to do the same sort of thing next season.

But that doesn’t affect you. You will be working directly with Mistress Debby-Ann Davidson and her assistant Josh Hopkins as a pickup agent, where you will not be doing anything more dangerous than maybe Tasering a non cooperating woman. I’d expect that four or five times a week, possibly more. Mistress Debby-Ann will be carrying the shot gun, and it has beanbag rounds.   If someone gets killed by your team, something has gone very, very, wrong.

Josh was in my team at Hill’s. He got dismissed at the same time as I did, for more or less the same reason. No problems there.  And I don’t have any issues with working under a Mistress.  

I’ll admit the reason I’m looking at you is, well, you don’t have much choice, and I need more workers. Here is my offer, take it or leave it. You work, at state minimum wage, for a month, directly reporting to Mistress Debby-Ann. At the end of that month, we either let you go, or give you a permanent position, at something like parity pay. 

I do want to warn you that Debby-Ann gets horny a lot, and thinks that fucking or sucking co-workers is OK, and being a mistress she doesn’t have to worry about being PPC converted. We don’t have an HR department, so there really isn’t anybody but me to ask her to stop, and I don’t see any reason to. Expect her to come on to you just about daily.  She does take “no” or “not right now” as an answer and doesn’t seem to hold a grudge about it. If you really make her happy, and you get really “lucky” she’ll take you to an Eastlake Mistress Association meeting, and you can have as many mistresses as you can handle. I am not sure if that’s a perk of the job or not.  Some of the guys who have gone to EMA  “meeting” really liked it.

That was better than I had hoped, even with out the boss lady who seem to like to fuck and suck her co-workers.  I can live with this.

Where do I sign?