Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
“This is Grace,” Sharon narrated. “One of our New Modesty brides-in-training. And that’s Jacob, her accepted suitor.”
I felt my cheeks flush as I realized what I was watching. This was beyond anything I’d imagined, even in my worst fears about Selecta’s culture.
On screen, Jacob’s voice rang out clearly. “You’ve been very disrespectful today, Grace. What happens to naughty girls who talk back?”
Grace’s voice trembled as she replied, “They… they get spanked, sir.”
Without warning, Jacob sat down on the bed and pulled Grace over his knee. He pulled her nightgown up, and I had to bite my lip to keep from gasping as her pale little backside came into view. His hand came down hard on her upturned bottom, eliciting a yelp of pain and surprise.
I glanced around the room, shocked to see most of my fellow recruits watching with rapt attention. Only a few seemed as disturbed as I felt.
The spanking continued, Grace’s cries growing more frantic with each smack. Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, Jacob stopped.
“Stand up,” he ordered. Grace obeyed, her face tearstained and flushed with humiliation.
Jacob’s next words sent a chill down my spine. “Now, bend over the bed. On your elbows. You’re going to learn your lesson thoroughly today.”
I watched in horror as Jacob produced a bottle of lubricant from Grace’s night table drawer. This couldn’t be happening. Not there in Grace’s room… not here in the orientation conference room… not then, or now, or ever.
Not here and not now, my brain tried to persuade me. This is a video clip. Maybe… maybe it’s not real.
But what I saw went beyond any acting, or imaginable fakery. At Jacob’s next command, Grace had to reach back and spread her pink bottom cheeks while her suitor prepared her anus.
As Jacob’s fingers probed Grace’s most private opening, I felt a wave of revulsion wash over me. Yet beneath it, to my horror, I felt a flicker of something else—a traitorous heat low in my belly. I crossed my legs tightly, disgusted with myself.
“You’ll notice,” Sharon’s cool voice cut through the room, “that NMB provides an unparalleled level of authenticity, because of course it comes from real New Modesty households. Our clients demand nothing less.”
On screen, Grace whimpered as Jacob positioned himself behind her. The camera zoomed in, leaving nothing to the imagination as he slowly, inexorably penetrated her bottom. Grace’s face contorted in a mix of pain and unwilling pleasure.
“Remember this lesson,” Jacob growled, his hips beginning to move. “This is what happens when you talk back.”
I tore my gaze away, only to find Sharon’s flinty eyes fixed on me. A faint smirk played at the corners of her mouth, as if she could see right through me, could sense the conflict raging within my body.
“NMB and its related properties,” Sharon continued, her voice laden with satisfaction, “account for a full fifty percent of Selecta Entertainment’s revenue. The appetite for this content among our best-heeled customer base is… insatiable.”
My eyes widened in shock. Half their revenue? From this? I looked around the room, expecting to see outrage, disgust, anything—but my fellow recruits seemed enthralled. Some of the men shifted uncomfortably in their seats, while a few of the women looked flushed and breathless.
Sharon’s next words sent ice through my veins. “Moreover, our highly lucrative sister organization, the Institute, which provides high-end concubines to discerning billionaires, relies heavily on NMB for marketing. The NMB streams serve as both advertisement and training tools.”
On screen, Jacob’s thrusts grew more forceful. Grace’s cries of pain had transformed into moans of reluctant ecstasy. I felt my own breath coming faster, my skin flushed and tingling. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.
“You’re learning, aren’t you?” Jacob panted. “You’re learning to be a good girl for me.”
“Y-yes, sir,” Grace gasped. “I’ll be good, I promise!”
I squirmed in my seat, increasingly horrified at my body’s response. This was wrong, so wrong—and yet I could feel wetness gathering between my thighs, my nipples hardening beneath my blouse. I bit my lip hard, trying to use the pain to center myself.
Sharon’s voice droned on, outlining profit margins and market projections. But all I could focus on was the obscene tableau before me, the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, Grace’s breathy moans, Jacob’s grunts of effort.
As Jacob neared his climax, I felt my own arousal spiraling out of control. My hands clenched the arms of my chair, knuckles white with the effort.
I couldn’t take it anymore. The sensations coursing through my body felt like a betrayal of everything I stood for. My cheeks burned with mortification and anger as I fought desperately against my body’s betrayal. How dare they do this? How dare they reduce human beings to objects of twisted entertainment?
With a herculean effort, I wrenched my focus away from the screens and onto Sharon’s smug face. Her cool composure only fueled the fire of my outrage. I could feel my heart pounding, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps as I struggled to contain the fury building inside me.