Thank you, HD, for the clarification. I have tried to remove some of the sophomoric language, and increased the action verbs. I'm afraid I'm still a little adverb-heavy, but...am I getting the idea?




Steve waited outside the metal door, running his hand through his short, dark hair. There was nothing else to do. The door in front of him was as innocent of a doorknob as the one behind him. The plain walls offered no distraction.

He knew he shouldn’t get angry. He could ill afford it. But Steve’s situation was a difficult one. And acceptance came hard.

The waiting was intentional, and he resented it. He was aware of his status; the additional delay was unnecessary. His belly roiled as his mind skittered down the well-worn and useless paths. Schooling himself to patience, he reminded himself of the consequences of failure.

Eventually that patience was rewarded, and the door in front of him opened. Erasing the signs of his inner turmoil, Steve marched into the room beyond. The same utilitarian anonymity marked this room, save it was larger…and the man in the grey, worsted suit offered plenty of distraction.

The decor was white and chrome, and was clearly not designed for comfort. But, then, Steve had no expectation of comfort in this interview.

“Hello, Steve. Be seated.” He silently followed the order, his manner tense and guarded. The manager was new to the company, leaving Steve wary and uncertain.

The heavyset man in the suit took the other chair, sat, and perched a pair of dark-framed reading glasses on his aquiline nose. His iron-grey hair was brushed back from his temples, framing and emphasizing heavy jowls. Opening the folder on the table, he began. “I’ve reviewed your file, and it appears your performance has improved only marginally.”

“Sir, there were extenuating circumstances. Some of the intelligence I received was inaccurate, causing the security breach. But, Sir,” Steve said, desperation creeping into his voice, “I’ve always been told the quality of the slaves I deliver is excellent.”

“Yes,” the man conceded. “That is true. You do seem to have a knack for training these girls. You manage to deliver obedient slaves who haven’t had their spirit broken. But I cannot overstate the risk you exposed the company to when you allowed a trainee to escape.”

“Yes, Sir,” Steve dropped his gaze, shifting nervously in his chair.

“It seems your performance was deemed substandard last year, as well.”

“Yes, Sir, but—” he bit off his reply as the man raised his hand, halting him.

Steve silently fumed. Last year’s review had been patentlybiased; the result of professional jealousy from a superior who felt threatened by his competence. It didn’t matter. The results were the same. He had been forbidden to see his sister, Fran, for an entire year.

He couldn’t contemplate another year without seeing her. Fran, thirteen years younger, had always been the delight of his life. He felt responsible for her. Working at the company headquarters in Montreal, she had no idea what his work entailed. And he intended to keep it that way. She must never know that she was hostage to his continued good behavior. As usual, thinking of Fran left him feeling agitated and powerless. As long as the company controlled her, they controlled him.

With a jolt, Steve returned his attention to the man in the suit. He had missed whatever the manager had said, and the man made a production of appearing to weigh a decision carefully. Steve was certain this was intentional. A cat playing with a cornered mouse. His gut tightened. Sweat broke out under his arms and between his shoulder blades. He tried hard to hide his anxiety; knew he had failed when the big man smiled.

“In cases like this, where the decision is too close to call, I like to allow a little input from the subject.”

He stood, turned away from the table, and, grasping the tab of his zipper, slowly lowered it, opening his trousers. Reaching in, he pulled out his flaccid cock, and, turning to Steve, said, “Suck my dick, slave. Prove to me you are competent at something, and maybe I’ll decide you’re worth the trouble of retraining.”

Steve hit his knees, and proceeded to earn another chance at a favorable performance review.