Job Hunting

You're led to a limousine. It's not the biggest you've seen or even been in, but it's clearly spacious enough for the three of you. First, Suki assists her mistress to her seat. You'd be tempted to leave right there if it weren't for the driver keeping an eye on you. Once she's done, Suki helps you in on the other side the same as she did before. It's embarrassing being treated in such a feminine way, but her strength compels you to comply. Once you're settled, Suki slips past you into a seat on the side in front of the door. the final seating arrangement has you and the mistress on opposite sides of a plush bench with Suki sitting perpendicular in front of you.

"Okay, you did what Dad wanted. You'll get whatever he offered you to do this, so we're done here."

"No, I don't believe so." the dom counters, "Your father offered me you, so no, we are not done."

"Look, I don't know what he told you, but I'm not playing this game. I don't need some bitch running my life."

For a moment, she just stares at you. Her face is completely deadpan. The only indication of her displeasure is the way Suki subtly squirms away.

"Very well," the mistress opens a compartment on the side of the car. She pulls out a stack of papers and hands them to you. "pick one."

You look over the pages to find a list of jobs. Each one has a job title, company name, salary and a brief job description. judging just from the first page and the thickness of the stack, there must be at least a hundred options.

"Each of these positions will net you an annual $450,000 minimum, and you are physically and mentally capable of any one of them. Any one you choose, I guarantee you will be hired."

The list is ridiculous. Not only does it provide numerous profession, but its fractal. It covers every major you could get in college, every job you could get with a degree, and every company you could work for. It even has notes on the current status of each giving a detailed analysis job security and expected promotions and pay increases.

You start to narrow it down, but even after throwing out all the professions you didn't want, the choice had physical weight.

"Are you done? Tell me, what is it you want to do?" She croons. As much as you hate admitting it, you can't give her an answer.

Your tormentor rips the papers from you hands. "Let me make it easier." She quickly flips through the book of jobs and pulls out a single page, putting it back in your hands.