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Brittany had been an over-achiever her whole life. She excelled at most things naturally. And those few she didn’t excel at naturally, she researched, studied, and worked at until she was the best. The vast majority of the time she succeeded.
Brittany never knew her mother, who had died shortly after giving birth to Brittany. She was raised, therefore, by her father. “Raised” is a polite term since he traveled much and when he was home, he was not attentive to his Brittany. He was a taciturn man who provided food and clean clothes and other minimum necessities but he never expressed much emotion. Fortunately, Brittany never seemed to need much more than he was able to give her.
As a child, Brittany’s intelligence and drive had been noticed and she’d been put on the “gifted” track where she flourished.
In high school, she had played soccer and refused to play on the girls’ team. She tried out for the more competitive, championship boys team. She not only made the team but ended up becoming their number one scorer for two years straight. She was class valedictorian.
Late in high school, when she had started developing physically, she’d noticed the stares and sideways glances of others and she’d learned how to use her budding breasts or fit ass and legs to her advantage, not only with students, but with the faculty, and not just the male members. A couple times, when she had the need to push a grade over one side of the fence, she’d show up after class, perhaps with a cute skirt which allowed her butt cheeks and thong “accidentally” to be flashed as she reached to write something on the board. Or she’d lean over the desk, making her case why a better grade was deserved, and “inadvertently” innocently offer a view down the top of her dress to her firm young breasts.
Because of this physical beauty and her intelligence, Brittany was popular with students and was the darling of the faculty. The whole faculty, except her health teacher, Mrs. Lubkins. When Brittany was around, Mrs. Lubkins started noticing Brittany’s behavior with others. She saw that they easy smile or the shy expressions came and went at will, usually when it served Brittany best. She’d heard conflicting stories from different people about Brittany’s actions or opinions, and had started putting two and two together. She noticed that there was a cold, calculating side to Brittany, and that she would use others easily and without thought to get her own needs fulfilled. Brittany seemed to act without a conscience. Mrs. Lubkins, who had majored in psychology in college, recognized Brittany’s traits and had a very strong hunch that this talented young lady was a psychopath – at least partially. This meant that Brittany had no real emotions but had learned to feign them by carefully studying others’ body language, expressions, and words, and emulating them. Mrs. Lubkins had actually spoken in a roundabout manner to young Brittany many times before coming to this conclusion. Brittany had been curious about the line of questioning from her health teacher and, after a while, had googled some of the questions. The links led her to discussions about people like her; people who lacked “empathy”.
It was confusing in a way for Brittany. Not being empathetic in the least, the whole idea of empathy was of conceptual at best. She understood what was real; what could be touched. Something like a feeling that differed from person to person and could be hurt? That wasn’t real. And yet…and yet she knew it was. These “feelings” were what she was able to manipulate by being so logical and by mimicking reactions she had seen others make. Looking at the sites about psychopathy, Brittany understood why, for example, she had always thought that Spock was the only realistic (somewhat) character on Star Trek. He was logical and never fuzzy. She had always disliked people’s fuzziness about issues. She discovered what Mrs. Lubkins suspected: Brittany was in fact, at least partially, a sociopath.
This discovery did not shock Brittany at all. It had simply made sense to her. She had never really understood many of the reactions that people had to various experiences that life offered. Why cry when someone said words to you that were supposed to “hurt you”? They were words that, most times, weren’t even logical or true. If the words were logical or true, even less reason to “feel hurt”. But people did get “hurt” and Brittany learned to use this to her advantage.
Though she never understood what this “emotional pain” truly was. She learned how to make a sad or shocked faces and she became an expert at producing tears at the appropriate times. She learned that to not “get hurt” made her seem strange to others. So she feigned being hurt as well as other emotions when appropriate. This was logical. She understood logic. She also learned how, by doing the opposite, she could easily hurt people. She learned that by balancing her “hurt feelings” with “pain” she could cause, she could easily manipulate most people bahis firmaları into behaving in a manner that benefited her.
Brittany became an expert in sizing up people’s emotional weaknesses and exploiting them. She started viewing the world as a place for her to conquer. And since most people were weak – since most people were like flesh robots, incapable of logical, intelligent thoughts, she felt absolutely no guilt in making them help her get what she needed.
Her intelligence and her focus, combined with her competitiveness forced her to keep herself in great shape. Having a great physique helped her feel physically great and it allowed her to better use some people. In college, she’d started working out daily and maintained a very healthy diet. She had developed a perfect 36-24-36 figure with firm D-cup breasts and she knew that men and even a few women noticed. In the gym she kept her muscles tone but had no desire to bulk up. She’d learned the obvious advantages to keeping in shape.
She simply knew that a demure smile, an “accidental” view of cleavage, or a flash of thigh often helped her obtain what she was owed rightly anyway. She was very smart and she was very aware of her own value and the value, right or wrong, others may give on her due to their own presumptions of who she was or what she was capable of.
Brittany had had some boyfriends throughout the years. In high school this was mainly to increase her popularity – at least at first. She’d choose a boy, most likely some popular athlete, and make him hers. It wasn’t difficult. Immediately, in the hierarchical world of high school, her value in the eyes of others increased. Then Brittany understood that the boyfriends also provided one other important thing: sex. Sex, she discovered, was something that she enjoyed thoroughly. Tremendously, in fact. Sex was physical. Sex was real. Sex simply felt good. She didn’t have to feign or pretend anything. Sex was added to her mental list of “real” things. Real things provided comfort and made her feel good. All other things could be manipulated to provide the real things. Good food. Working out. And sex. These were the real things to Brittany. And sex was the best. Sex could be used to help her get what she wanted AND it felt good.
Like anything in her life, she viewed the boyfriends as opportunities for herself to learn. She learned what a man liked and she learned how to do it. And then she’d learned how to do it even better. With the next boyfriend, she’d learn other methods and techniques, and she’d improved. And so on until she discarded that boy too. By the time she reached college, Brittany was already an expert in fellatio and, finding out that men strongly preferred girls to swallow their sperm, taught herself to actually enjoy eating and playing with their cum. She could make a man cum in a minute, or make him suffer deliciously and edge him over hours. During her first year at college, she’d even discovered surprisingly that she liked anal sex too.
By the end of her first year, Brittany knew what she liked in a man and she’d make sure her men knew how to please her as well. Unfortunately, when she found most of the college boys were ill prepared to properly pleasure a woman, she realized that she was poorly equipped to instruct them. What did she like? How best to do that? How could she direct them? She’d decided at that point to do “research” so she could better enjoy herself. To research cunnilingus, she’d need to find other women.
Brittany met and seduced some sorority girls, some lesbian, some not, and spent time with them learning when to lick, when to suck, when to be gentle and when to attack, dart, and jab with her tongue. She’d learned that she liked it when her lover would start by gently kissing her inner thighs and her mons. She learned to build up expectations. The kisses should continue over the outer and then inner lips. The kisses should then subtly become long and careful licks around the outer lips. She found that she, and most of the women she slept with, liked it when the licks passed between the outer lips and reached up to her clit. Long faster flat tonguing of the inner lips, combined with their gentle sucking, followed by tongue darting inside her and then the flicking over her clit were techniques that would bring her to – or close to – orgasm. And she loved to orgasm. Loved it. It was, she supposed, as close to an emotional feeling as she would ever have. And these techniques were only oral, once you involve fingers, or dildos, or vibrators, well… that was a whole ‘nother world.
Brittany majored in law enforcement in college with a minor in psychology. She was planning on becoming a lawyer. The minor in psychology was mainly to understand about how “normal” people thought – or better- how they felt. The major in law enforcement was mainly to assist in the law degree. Although the idea of learning how to use a firearm better was attractive too. She chose to continue with law because it was logical kaçak iddaa and because it would offer her an opportunity to make very good money. Lawyers got paid well. Very good money was important to living comfortably – and that was real.
In her final semester, she had already finalized her paperwork to enter law school when she received the Fedex envelope. Inside it was a thin black envelope addressed to her.
A black envelope. Black? How strange.
Inside was a letter on very fine, thick, cream-colored paper.
Dear Ms. Fallox,
We have reviewed your transcripts and CV. We have also had the opportunity to observe your interactions with others.
It seems clear to us that you have the unique requisites and desires necessary to help us grow our company. Please note this this is a singular opportunity to enter a lucrative, real career offering great flexibility, and tremendous personal growth.
We will conduct an interview Friday, April 27. We will send a driver to collect you at 8:00. You will be back by 5:00. Lunch and refreshments will be provided.
We prefer you to wear black.
What was this?
‘We had the opportunity to observe you’? What?
‘We prefer you wear black’?
This made no sense. What company’s HR department sends out a letter like this? What company tells you openly that they are stalkers?
She read it again. What did they mean by ‘real’ career? Why did they choose that word. Strange.
Brittany sat at her computer and googled the company. All she found was their own site. Nothing else. No other links.
Their site was a simple, one-page site listing the company name, Kortzan Enterprises, and the following cities: New York, Washington DC, Chicago, Dallas, and Los Angeles. There was a “Contact us” button that led to a form to fill out. That’s it.
Strangely enough this simple, one page site did not seem amateurish. It was classy. Clear.
Since she was in Virginia, she presumed the meeting would be in Washington. Friday was tomorrow. She had no classes. She could easily be ready in time.
Wait – was she considering this?
Brittany found that she was. Something about the letter intrigued her. She hadn’t really been considering job offers since law school her next step. And this one…lucrative…and real? What did that mean, real? It held its own meaning for her but what did they mean?
Brittany decided that the risk that this letter offered could be offset with some planning. She decided she wanted to see what this was about.
Interesting or not, she had no intention of disappearing without a trace because some stalker sent her a mysterious letter.
Brittany scanned the letter and saved it in a new folder on her dropbox entitled “If_Im_Missing”. She’d document every aspect of this this trip just in case.
Wear black? Black? What did she have that was black? She owned one pant suit but it was navy. She had multiple miniskirts that were black. She had a very sexy leather one…That thought caused the corner of her mouth to curl. No. Not appropriate. She would wear that one…
Brittany had a tasteful black, semi-formal cocktail dress. The neckline plunged dramatically and this strongly accented her large, firm breasts. The slit up the side showed perhaps too much leg. It wasn’t really designed for a job interview. Whatever. This would play to her advantage. With a short black jacket, she could make it somewhat businesslike.
If they didn’t like it, too bad for Kortzan Enterprises. They were mysterious? She’d do what she could to keep the ball in her court. Brittany went off to prepare herself for tomorrow.
She had waxed on Monday, coincidentally, so, around her well-groomed tiny, vee-shaped bush, she was smooth as a baby’s bottom. She put out a sexy lace thong that would accent her round ass cheeks and a push-up demi-bra to hold up her large breasts to better present her cleavage with the deep neckline of her dress.
This whole mysterious idea was starting to excite Brittany so she took out her favorite vibrator and her favorite dildo, “big black”, and masturbated deliciously for the next hour.
At 7:45 the next morning Brittany looked at herself in the mirror. With her black briefcase, she looked quite professional. And yet sexy. Perfect.
At 8:00 exactly the black Lincoln pulled up. She walked outside and smiled at the driver as he held open the door for her. She walked past him, took out her phone, and took a couple of pictures of the car from behind with the driver and plate visible. She deposited the photos in her dropbox folder.
Then she got into the car.
After a pleasant drive, they arrived at an office building in Foggy Bottom. The driver told her “fourth floor ma’am.” As he held open her door for her.
Brittany took another photo and saved it in her folder. She typed a quick text listing dropbox and her password kaçak bahis and sent it to Frank, a graduate student she’d been toying with – he was in love with her. She’d explain it away later.
Then she went into the building.
The elevator opened up into a pleasant reception area decorated with deep mahogany and crimson touches and four large windows letting the sunlight in. It looked very much like a well-established law firm. The first impression was clearly designed to either set at ease or impress, depending on one’s wealth level. Brittany was impressed.
She walked towards the rounded desk with a tasteful metal plaque reading simply “Kortzan Enterprises”. The stunning receptionist looked up and smiled. She was a beautiful Asian with long black hair. She had on a tight designer blue dress which nicely accented her pert breasts – B-cups, thought Brittany.
The Asian’s eyes sparkled. “Ahhh, Ms. Fallox? Right on time. I’m Savannah. Savannah Knox.” And reached her hand out warmly.
Brittany offered her brightest, warmest smile, the one woman always felt comfortable with.
“Thank you, Savannah. Brittany Fallox.” And she giggled lightly.
“Need to use the restroom? Like a coffee? Water?”
Savannah showed Brittany the restroom.
When Brittany returned she asked,
“Ms. Knox I -“
“Um…Yes, of course. Savannah, could you tell me more what this is about? The letter I received was…short on details…”
Savannah smiled, “I understand. I can personally assure you there is nothing dangerous. I’ve been through the same process. We understand your concerns and applaud the precautions you’ve been taking.”
Brittany narrowed her eyes. We? Precautions? How did they know?.
Savannah continued reassuringly. “Your interest has gotten you this far…be patient for a few more minutes and we’ll explain everything. Hopefully we’ll have an opportunity to work together…” Savannah winked.
She held out her arm and indicated the computer in the corner. “Have a seat over there. Read the nondisclosure carefully and fill it out please.”
Frustrated but Intrigued, Brittany smiled politely and sat down in front of the screen and watched Savannah leave. She clearly had a great body. Her ass was captured nicely in her mid-thigh skirt and her legs were beautiful.
Thoughts of Savannah’s nude body popped into Brittany’s mind. Nice perky breasts. Probably small but responsive nipples – like pencil erasers. Cleanly shaven? For sure, Brittany decided. Then she uncrossed and crossed her legs realizing that she was getting wet. Not the best time to start thinking about the attractive receptionist.
Brittany arched her eyebrows as she read the very-thorough nondisclosure agreement. She considered briefly not signing it but considered the possible repercussions of this. Who would she tell? Tell what? And who would care? She realized it made no difference, and signed it on the screen.
Shortly thereafter, Savannah returned, smiled, and said, “We’re ready for you.”
Brittany was led down the hall, through some doors and into an different elevator which took them down. They certainly descended lower than the ground level where she had originally entered, thought Brittany. The doors opened to a large, well-lit room. There was a leather chair and matching couch sitting on a tasteful rug in the middle front of the room. The chair had a small table with a very nice small leather purse on it.
In the front of the room were four black leather chairs, three of them occupied by men. The fourth empty.
This was all very strange.
“Please,” Savannah indicated the central chair next to the table. “Have a seat.”
Brittany walked to the seat, doing her best to make her walk sexy but in an unintentional way.
She looked at the men. They were all very attractive and in shape. They were all dressed impeccably. The one on Brittany’s far left, had a trim, grey beard that matched his pony-tailed hair. He wore a bright bow tie and he was able to pull of both the pony tail and the tie. He might have been in his late fifties. The other two looked to be late thirties. The middle one was a serious but rugged-looking blond. The last one was a large Latino with stylish, short, black hair.
Savannah took the last open seat and Brittany was surprised at herself for feeling relieved or happy about this. After all, she didn’t know this woman any more than she did the men.
There were name plates in front of each of them she now noticed. From left to right they read, “Rocker, Jensen, Gonzoles, and Knox”. No first names. No Mr. or Ms. Just last names.
After a moment, Rocker spoke. “Brittany – may I call you Brittany? Let me get to the point. I’m sure you have many questions and we will address all of them in due time. We are the advisory board at Kortzan Enterprises. We are the ones who will decide whether you…fit. Or not. We have seen your resume and your transcripts and are duly impressed. However, quite frankly, you have other assets that interest us. Assets that will not show up on any written documents. Savannah?”
Savannah stood and moved around the wide desk and towards Brittany.
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