Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Starting with a bare bottom spanking.
But as she kneels at his feet to thank him for her punishment, it isn’t just her bright red ass compelling Laura to show the man who now all but owns her what a good girl she can be.
It’s the arousal dripping down her thighs at the thought that she belongs to him now.
Publisher’s Note: Her Shameful Correction is a stand-alone book which is the seventh entry in the series The Institute: Shameful Arrangements. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t read this book
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
Laura
It represented the faintest—and most embarrassing—possible glimmer of hope, I thought, but the special promotion I found on the internet at the end of the worst day of my life nevertheless sent a surge of optimism rising in my chest.
Just for you… the girl who waited!
Selecta Arrangements has the answer for young women with a very special asset! If you’re verified as intact where it counts the most, you’re eligible for our premium placement program. Top-tier sponsors are looking for you!
I stared at the words on my phone screen, my thumb hovering over the link. Premium placement. Top-tier sponsors. The sizzling language somehow made it feel less sordid, more like a simple, efficient business transaction.
Which was exactly what it would be, I reminded myself. A business transaction.
“Ms. Martindale, I’m sorry to tell you that you’ve been expelled, effective immediately.”
The dean’s words from that morning still echoed in my ears. I’d sat in his office, hands clenched in my lap, watching my entire future disintegrate. One stupid mistake—okay, several stupid mistakes—and suddenly my scholarship was gone, my dorm access revoked, my distant, elderly parents’ disappointment inevitable and crushing.
“You have until five o’clock to vacate campus housing,” he’d said, not even looking at me as he signed the paperwork.
I’d stumbled out of his office in a daze, my mind racing through impossible options. My parents couldn’t afford to send me anywhere else—I had already had to take out two loans without telling them. I had no job, no prospects, and now no degree. I’d wandered to the student union, collapsing at a corner table while other students chatted and laughed around me, oblivious to my catastrophe.
That’s when I’d overheard them.
“She’s making like ten thousand a month,” one girl had whispered to her friend. “Just for being with him.”
“But doesn’t he, like, own her?” the friend had responded. “And… you know… being with him? Like…”
She had giggled nervously, then continued in an even lower whisper.
“Like, you know… being with him?”
“I mean, yeah, kind of. Sex. But still. Ten thousand.”
Selecta Arrangements. I’d heard the name before, whispered in dorm rooms late at night. Girls trading rumors about classmates who’d dropped out to join the program. Some spoke of it with scandalized disgust. Others with barely concealed envy.
Now, sitting in the cramped studio apartment I could barely afford even for one month, I clicked the link.
The application loaded immediately. Name. Age. Contact information. The questions grew more personal. Sexual experience—I checked ‘none.’ The box expanded with a notice that the intact status of my hymen would be verified with a medical exam. My face blazed like the sun, but I clicked the box that meant I consented. Then came the waiver, page after page of dense legal text.
I scrolled past it all, my heart pounding. What did it matter what the fine print said? I had no other options. My thumb hit the ‘Accept and Submit’ button before I could think better of it.
The confirmation appeared instantly: Application received. You will be contacted within twenty-four hours.
The email arrived the next morning.
Dear Miss Martindale,
Congratulations! Your preliminary application has been approved for consideration for our premium placement program. Please report to Selecta West Headquarters, 2400 Dune Hill Road, Edison Park, California, tomorrow at 2:00 p.m. for your verification examination and orientation. The receptionist at the building’s main information desk will direct you to the appropriate office.
A shuttle is available from the Palo Alto Caltrain station. It leaves every fifteen minutes from the bus area and the ride to Selecta West takes five to ten minutes depending on traffic. Please be punctual. Failure to comply with stated instructions constitutes grounds for denying your application.
Sincerely,
Rhonda Havers
Communications
Selecta Arrangements
I must have checked the Caltrain schedule at least fifty times. I left my apartment two hours before I needed to, taking the earliest train that wouldn’t leave me sitting at the station or, worse, at Selecta, for an hour. The shuttle from Palo Alto was sleek and modern, emblazoned with the Selecta logo—a stylized red S that looked both elegant and vaguely predatory. I sat in the back, clutching my purse, watching Silicon Valley’s corporate campuses slide past the window.
The Selecta West building sprawled like a testament to the megacorp’s global footprint, its glass and steel dominating the campus’s artificially green environs. I walked through the revolving doors at exactly 1:45 p.m., my sneakers squeaking softly on the polished marble floor.
The receptionist looked up from her desk with a practiced smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her nameplate read Joann.
“Hi?” I said, and immediately had to swallow hard to clear my mouth. “I’m… Laura Martindale,” I said, my voice still coming out smaller than I’d intended. “I have a two o’clock appointment.”
Something flickered in Joann’s expression—was it pity? Contempt? I couldn’t tell. She picked up her phone without a word.
“Hank? The two o’clock SA girl is here.” A pause. She looked up at me. “Yes, Laura.”