Fucktoy Friday Interview Mistake

One cannot, in our opinion, have too many fucktoys. They get time off, and there's always some new use: suck awake alarm clocks, coffee slaves and you never know when you'll need a new foot rest. It takes a particular sort of person to be a good fucktoy; looks are important, but not as important as attitude and demeanor. So every Friday we have interviews, to help keep up with the variety and needs of a proper Household.

I made a note to give the HR Slave an extra orgasm as I saw the current candidate step in. I grabbed the fucktoy at my feet's head and slid it up and down my cock a few times, pulling him down to the base, and holding him there. She was a redheaded vision in lust, what Heinlein always called a zaftig coed: extra curvy in all the right places. She was wearing a professional grey business suit, although that above-the-knee skirt could easily have doubled as a hobble skirt.

It was an interesting choice, and I wondered if it was on purpose, or if she'd confused exactly what this interview was about. I leaned strongly to the latter, when she walked up, hand out. "Hello Sir Tortuga," she said. "I'm--"

"I don't care," I cut her off. She looked confused. "A name is the last thing I care about in a fucktoy," I explained.

Her mouth hung open for a moment, and she picked her jaw up off the floor. "Well, then Sir, what do you care about?"

"I want to know what you're wearing under that skirt. Roll it up so I can see." She reached down and grabbed the skirt, and began inching it up. I let the fucktoy at my feet get back into his slow pace, and watched as the interviewee revealed what she was wearing. First came the tops of stockings, dark against her pale skin. I smiled at that, and she smiled at me -- her gaze had never left mine, which gave her points.

She wore a black garter belt, and the skirt was beginning to bunch up around her wide hips, but she worked it up over them, and around her waist. She swivelled her hips a bit as she did it, causing me to thrust a bit into the fucktoy's mouth, making him choke. When she was done she turned to me showing a thin, almost thong-like green panty. I was so transparent, I could see the curls of her bush under neath it. Then I noticed the problem.

I pushed the fucktoy off my cock, and stood, pulling my knife out of my pocket. It might have seemed silly to be standing there with my cock out, but some things need to be dealt with immediately. I stepped towards her, flicking my knife open with an audible click. I could hear the breath catch in the redhead's throat, and she swallowed. I hooked my finger under the side of her panties.

"What's up with this?" I demanded.

"P-panties?" she said. "Are ... are panties a problem?"

"No," I said. "Especially ones like these. But they are under your garter. Do you not know what a fucktoy is for?"

"Actually--" she began.

"A fucktoy," I said, pulling on the strap of her panty, pulling it against her garter, "is for fucking. There's no point in making it more difficult."

I brought the knife around and she put up her hands to block me. I let go of her panty, and grabbed the back of her jacket, yanking back on it, pulling it and her hands behind her back. She teetered on her heels and I slipped the knife inside her panties and cut one side.

Her breasts jutted out, pressing against the white buttoned-down shirt she was wearing under the jacket. The top three buttons were undone, letting me see her cleavage, and a bra that matched her green panties peeked out near the top. I turned to stand directly in front of her, one arm still behind her, holding her arms in the twisted up jacket.

I slid the knife against her other hip, hearing her voice catch a bit, and cut the panties on the other side. She was afraid, which was somewhat understandable, but they should know we never permanently harm our toys. I questioned giving HR that extra orgasm now, as they hadn't properly prepared this one. "Widen your legs, I said."

She carefully slid her feet out, a bit uneasy on the heels and without the use of her arms, but in no danger of falling as I held her. The green panties fell down to the floor, and I closed my knife, and stuck it back in my pocket. "That's better, isn't it?" I said. I slid my finger between her legs, touching her dripping cunt. She drew her breath in as my finger brushed her clit, and I could see the arousal as it flushed her face.