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6: Mia and Willow

  Sarah’s next time to shine didn’t come for a while, given that we were both nervous about our close call with Luna.

  Fortunately, it ended up not being a big deal – Luna apologised and I apologised back, assuring her that I would wash my sheets, as I always did. Although it had been a while since I touched myself while not pretending to be Sarah…

  Anyways, beyond the lingering awkwardness with Luna, the biggest thing to come out of the incident was the video – which, once I deleted everything after I began shapeshifting, had the distant thump of the door in the background, followed by my panicked expression and movements.

  Overall, it was not just salvageable, but good, having a gimmick that enticed people to be interested. I posted the video to the paid section of my account, as well as a short teaser to the public section, and preened as views and comments started to roll in. It still wasn’t much, but it was nonetheless satisfying to watch the number of people excited to see my naked body rise.

  I hadn’t received many comments on my initial batch of photos, none worth remarking on, but a few started to pop up on my video, and those sent tingles down my spine – good tingles.

  : wow when she heard the door i paused that part and just jerked it there

  : its rare to find such an innocent and corruptible young maiden. yes, despite youre facade, i can see right through you and were you to be graced with my presence you would kneel before me and eat me out with reckless abandon

  : thanks for the vid!

  So, uh, some of those were stranger than others, but on the whole there was something about the acknowledgement of people that excited Sarah, and she was more motivated than ever to make this work.

  So, when it finally came time for my next interview as Sarah, I put a little bit of effort into my appearance, tucking in my too-big men’s shirt and wearing a belt to hold my shorts on my waist. Sarah still looked like she was wearing her boyfriend’s clothes, but at least they were coherently presented. I also spent a bit of time on makeup – magic makeup that was, using my shapeshifting to imitate understated professional makeup. It looked weird with my ill-fitting clothes, but I liked it anyway.

  A lot of walking and a short subway ride ter, I was in their offices.

  Unlike the previous offices I’d visited, this pce looked personalised, like they’d done more than the bare minimum to decorate the rented space. A unity pride fg covered one wall, each of the desks in the open floor was decorated by as many bits and bobs as practical devices, and potted pnts dotted every shelf, windowsill and corner. One desk near the front stuck out, having a small trans pride fg, a snowglobe for an anime I’d never seen, and a mini fake Christmas tree, complete with decorations. It was February.

  The owner of that desk stood and walked over upon seeing me. They wore straight grey scks and a grey vest over a white blouse. Their bleached hair was shaved short on the sides, with longer waves falling down from the top to reach the bottom of their ear. “Hello, are you Sarah?” they asked.

  I nodded, still overwhelmed and nervous.

  They ughed, “Well I’m Mia – she/her – and I’m going to be showing you around a bit before your interview with the bosses. Are there any questions you have before we get started?”

  “Oh, hi!” I stammered, “She/Her for me too and… I’m Sarah!” I smiled, taking a step closer while waving, my hand twitching down, preparing for a handshake that Mia never went for.

  I ughed, “Uh, so what do you do here?”

  Do I sound insane to her? I feel like I’m botching this really badly.

  She began leading me around the perimeter of the rooms, circling the desks in the middle, “I, like many of the people that work here, help out with a variety of office work. Sometimes it’s paperwork and others it’s taking calls or greeting visitors – all normal office fare. The most interesting thing that crosses my desk is the occasional video editing,” she smirked as her eyes shot to the side, gncing down to my flushed face.

  “Oh,” I let out, “That sounds… neat.” I smiled again when she ughed at my comment.

  “And these are the meeting rooms – this is where we meet every month and discuss new projects, where the actors get together and pn out their videos – that kind of thing.” She looked at me again, eyes waiting for a question.

  “So actors direct their own performances – or is it that they write their performances? Or both?”

  “It depends on the project and on the individual. We have writers and directors that we contract, but we generally only require either for higher-budget non-adult scenes – for example a few months back we created a fantasy-themed video that started on an extended action sequence, and that was written and directed more like a traditional short film.”

  “Huh.” I took in the implication that adult scenes were more self-directed, which interested me. Of course, I’d love to express that, to properly give off the impression that I was interested in the interview, but how did I do that without coming across as a weirdo pervert? It wasn’t like I could just say, ‘yeah I like being able to choose how I get fucked.’

  Mia took my silence in stride, leading me down the end of the hall, past the bathrooms and the meeting rooms to a closed door. The pte to the side read ‘Willow & Willow’ – which I assumed to be referring to the married pair that had founded the company.

  “Alright, here you are,” Mia said, opening the door and gesturing inside, but not stepping over the doorway or even gncing inward herself. “Good luck!”

  I nodded and stepped inside, flinching when the door closed behind me. A nervous ugh escaped me as I inspected the room around me. The walls and floor were the same as everywhere else, grey carpet and white walls, but behind a sleek gss desk was a window composing the entire wall, light streaming in through the fifth story view.

  The desk was neatly organised – only having a small pile of paperwork in the middle and a cup with two pens inside – much like the person sitting there. They hadn’t gnced up since I’d entered, focused intently on studying the form before them, but I could clearly see their sharp manner of dress – a sleek navy bzer tailored tightly to their tall, fit form – and their face, with its narrow eyebrows, high cheekbones and cool blue eyes. Even the dark pixie cut came to a sharp point on the side of their face, somehow looking like it’d return to the exact same pce if I brushed my fingers through it.

  I flushed, shuffling in pce and averting my gaze to the chair across from them. Was I supposed to sit down?

  Finally, after I started to wonder if I might break down crying, they stood, slowly dragging their gaze up to meet my eyes with a pinning stare. “Hello, Sarah. I’m Riley Willow, co-owner and CEO – but you can call me Mrs. Willow. My partner had other arrangements, and they extend their apologies for not being here to welcome you.”

  I waited for a half-second, but when no instruction, gesture for a handshake, or offer of a seat came, I bowed deeply and introduced myself in turn. “It’s wonderful to meet you Mrs. Willow. I’m Sarah, and I’m honoured for the opportunity to work for you.” Self-awareness returned to me a moment ter, extending my eternal blush and leaving me the option of exiting my dorky bow as soon as possible or remaining still, committing and giving me a chance to wipe the mortification off my face. I opted for the tter, staring at the carpet for two beats before straightening, my face as neutral as I could manage, and meeting Riley’s slightly raised eyebrows.

  “Have a seat, Sarah,” she said, sitting down and giving no indication of what she was thinking.

  I nodded and sat across from her, settling my hands into my p, straightening my back, attempting to project confidence and competence.

  “Why don’t you tell me about yourself? What experiences or special qualities do you have that qualify you to be one of our performers?”

  My gaze instinctually darted to the floor, and I had to drag it up to meet her stone cold expression. “Well, I’ve done some solo work with adult content – but my experience is fairly limited,” I admitted, “If I had to choose one thing that makes me a desirable candidate, it would be my enthusiasm.”

  At Riley's ck of a reaction, I continued, doubling down in the process, “I’m a hardcore exhibitionist,” I said, referring to Sarah’s preferences and not my own, “which means that in any situation I won’t have to work very hard – if at all – to sell that I’m enjoying myself.”

  She frowned and began scribbling on a notepad in front of her that I hadn’t noticed her taking out.

  I backpedalled, “Of course that doesn’t mean I can neglect my acting skills. I’m eager to improve on that front, and even if my floor is retively high, that just means the ceiling for how good my performances can be is higher as well.”

  She finally nodded, finishing her writing and looking back up at me. “Interesting. So,” she motioned her head towards the window behind her, “If I proposed a scene that involved being unclothed in front of a window like this, or if I proposed you doing an event where you would perform a scene live, how would you feel about that?”

  “Um, those would both be acceptable,” I said, after a moment of thought. I scrambled for more to say, skipping over my shapeshifting as a valuable skill – I didn’t want anyone to know about that.

  I continued, unable or unwilling to keep my mouth shut. “In fact, even if you don’t hire me to be an actress full-time, I’d love it if you contacted me about those live performances, even if it was just as a substitute or a volunteer.”

  Riley simply raised one eyebrow and scribbled into her notes some more. “Please value yourself more.”

  Her brevity was painful.

  We exchanged a few more back and forths, me doing my best to keep my composure while she held it in abundance. Eventually, much to my relief, the interview came to an end, when she’d apparently gathered enough information.

  Riley scribbled into her paper for a moment before straightening again and sighing. “Well, this has been informative, even if it wasn’t in the traditional sense.” she rocked her head side to side, studying her notes, “I can’t make the decision by myself – but I’ll be recommending you strongly to Mx. Willow, who will give you a call within the next few days, if you’re still interested.”

  I nodded and stood. “Thanks for the opportunity,” I stated, needing much more time to sort out how I felt about the experience. Just before I left the room, I heard her voice behind me.

  “Oh and Sarah? It’s Mrs. Willow – only my partner calls me Riley,” despite facing away from her, the smirk in her tone was obvious.

  I continued stepping through the door, not knowing how to react to Ril– to Mrs. Willow’s correction.

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