Job Interview Reduction - Sahrye - POV - Feet - Cleavage - Booty - Office copy - HD
Sahrye, a towering figure of masculine dominance, sat poised behind her mid-century modern desk, her eyes fixed on the mere mortal dwarfed beneath her. The sun's golden rays filtering through the slatted blinds cast a mesmerizing tapestry of light and shadow across her walnut desktop, highlighting the smooth curves of her hourglass figure.
Sahrye's lips curved into a predatory smile as she leaned forward, her voice like velvet wrapped in steel. "You're here to be my personal assistant," she purred. "I need someone to handle all the mundane tasks I don't have time for. Have you ever done this before?"
The man shook his head, words caught somewhere between surprise and panic. Sahrye's eyes gleamed with amusement as she watched him struggle to comprehend the magnitude of her presence. "No experience, poor multitasking, zero social-media savvy," she listed off casually. "Why are you here?"
As if in answer, the man shrank—first his shoulders, then his torso, until his shoes dropped from sight. His shirt ballooned around a form no larger than a beetle. Sahrye watched him diminish with curious detachment, her gaze never leaving his trembling form. "Well, now," she murmured, rising gracefully from her chair.
The soft click of her heels echoed through the room as she circled the tiny man, each deliberate step a statement of power. He cowered under the shadow of her imposing height, his eyes wide with terror. "Tiny Man Syndrome?" she taunted, leaning in to let her giant ass brush against his trembling form.
Her booty was impossibly close—he could feel the fabric of her dress, the faint scent of cotton. "Should I squash you like the bug you are?" she purred, her voice low and threatening. Sahrye chuckled darkly, picking him up off the chair and taking him back to her desk.
Lifting one enormous foot, she placed it beside him on the desktop. "Worship," she commanded. "Rub every line, every curve." On trembling knees, he obeyed, his fingertips pressing into the supple skin of her arch. The tip of her toe brushed his temple, prompting a shudder that ran through both of them.
Sahrye reclined in her chair, swinging one leg over the other, letting him trace the satin sheen of her stretched stocking. "Climb," she whispered. "Prove your worth." He began the ascent up her calf—softer than he'd imagined, as pliant as silk under his hands—until she plucked him up and nestled him between the generous swell of her cleavage.
Warmth and the faint aroma of her perfume surrounded him. He scrambled to escape, heart hammering, but her gentle fingers closed around him, returning him to the desk's surface. He froze as she perched beside him again, wiggling her hips until he stared in helpless awe.
"Look at you," she purred. "So small, so powerless. All because I pointed out your inadequacies." She tapped her heel, sending him skittering across the veneer. A soft laugh escaped her lips. "I could end you," she mused, lifting a slender foot to hover above him. "But I'd miss your little struggles."
She pressed down just enough that he flattened with a startled gasp, the coolness of the leather contrasting with the heat of his panic. When she lifted her foot, he lay gasping. "You'll do nicely as my pet," Sahrye decided. "You'll serve me whenever I demand it—start with a foot rub, then climb once more."
She slid him into the drawer at her side, its plush velvet lining cradling his tiny form. From above, Sahrye's voice drifted down like silk. "Rest now. I'll call on you when I need you—don't disappoint me, or the next time I find you, you may not be so lucky." She closed the drawer with a soft click.
The office lights dimmed in the slanting afternoon glow, leaving him in shadow, acutely aware of his new, infinitesimal place in her world.
