I Come Into The Car Wash For My Job Interview. I Just Need This Job So That I Can Get Enough Money To

I come into the car wash for my job interview. I just need this job so that I can get enough money to pay my bills as a Uni student - and when the interviewer takes me behind the car wash and provides me with a sponge, bucket, brush and spray hose and tells me to wash his care to prove my aptitudes, I comply.

Washing, scrubbing, wiping - I do it all and pay no attention to how I let thick white soapy suds over my shirt nor how my interviewer now looks to how my tits swing beneath my neckline as I wipe the bumper, or how my ass stretches my trousers as I bend over to dunk the sponge again.

I'm only thrown off guard when you use the spray hose - a jet of cold water splashing my neck before the cold fluid envelopes my body, shocking me into freezing under the wash of coldness

then i look down. to my soaked shirt, plastered to my body and outlining my skin and dark bra, clearly showing my chest heave up and down with heavy breaths as I ask-"What the hell?!"

"How badly do you want the job?" "Oh yeah, you really want it?" "What, you're willing to beg for this job? Oh, that won't be necessary-" "Prove how much you want it. Get on the bumper and fuck yourself with the brush."

It's got to be a joke. It can't be serious.

I freeze - shocked - and I'm horrified as the interviewer reaches out to grab me, pushing my body against the bumper and bending me over like a convict - grunting into my ear as he says fine, not willing to cooperate, I'll show you how to do what you're told-

His hands rip my trousers down and I let out a cry of protest, though it falls on empty ears, as he clapped his hand against my ass firmly, leaving it stinging before I feel something hard and plastic breach my hole - something shoved up my pussy and making me cry and thrash under his grip, tears clouding my eyes as I fight to get out of this position.

"Won't fuck yourself with the brush, fine, I'll do it for you, you inconsiderate bitch - how's that feel - does it hurt? fucking good - d'you want to be a good little bitch and do it yourself now?"

I nod and babble as I feel you keep hammering the object into my hole, feeling your hands both grip my ass to lift me and place me on the bumper.

"Go on then. fuck yourself with it."

With cries and sniffs I grip the brush that projects from my pussy and pull the handle out of my, before letting out a cry at how pathetic I am to comply with these violent orders, as I plunge myself back down onto the brush - "pleasuring" myself for the interviewer who has sat himself in the front seat of the car to look at me through the windshield.

I lower my head in shame as I bring myself up and down on the brush, humiliated and horrified at what the fuck i'm doing, before looking back through to the interviewer through the windscreen and seeing that he's holding his phone up - recording me sheathing the callous object into my pussy and how I cry whilst I do it.

I try to cover my face - my red, crying, humiliated face - and that only makes the man get out of the car and pull me off of the bumper by my hair, holding it firmly at his hips so that I'm forced onto my knees, before he unbuckles his trousers and shoves his cock into my mouth - using the moisture from my cries to lubricate his cock as I'm forced to blowjob him, crying around his cock whilst he uses my hair to pull my mouth up and down his cock like a fleshlight for his pleasure.

but he doesn't cum down my throat, just before he cums he pulls me off of his cock and pushes me to the side so that he can point his cock and fire his cum over the windshield instead. And then turn to me.

"You're nearly hired. Last step of the interview is to take your shirt off, get some suds on your tits, and use them to wipe my cum from the windshield. Maybe then if you get me hard enough, I'll cum somewhere that won't leave as much of a mess."