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)
I recounted my interactions with Mandy—the ignored email, the personal call, the nail painting. As I spoke, I found myself growing more agitated, the frustration I’d felt earlier bubbling up to the surface. I felt some pride about how I kept my tone even, despite the emotion.
“So she dismissed me,” I finished, covering the flush in my cheeks, the anger and embarrassment, with a laugh and a shake of my head.
Stuart had listened attentively, his eyes not leaving my face. When I fell silent, he nodded slowly. “I see,” he said, his deep voice sending a helpless quiver through my frame. “And what do you think should be done about this?”
I hesitated, acutely aware of the weight of what I had resolved to say. The room suddenly felt too warm, too close. I could hear the soft hum of the air conditioning, the distant sounds of traffic far below. “Well,” I began, my mouth dry, “Joe suggested that I… that I should ask your permission to paddle her.”
The words hung in the air between us. Stuart’s expression remained impassive, but I thought I saw in his eyes a flicker of something that might be amusement or might be appreciation. “I see,” he repeated. “And how do you feel about that idea, Melissa?”
I felt my face grow even hotter. The memory of my own paddling flashed through my mind, unbidden. The sting, the humiliation, the confusing arousal… I pushed the thoughts away, focusing on the present moment.
“I… well, since it seems to be part of the corporate culture here at Selecta,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, “I suppose I feel fine about it.”
Stuart studied me for a long moment, his gaze so intense I had to fight the urge to look away. Then, abruptly, he straightened up from his position against the door. “Take off all your clothes,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact.
I blinked, sure I had misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard me,” Stuart said, his voice taking on a harder edge. “Strip. Now.”
My mind reeled. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. But even as I thought it, my hands started to rise, seemingly of their own accord, moving toward the back of my neck to undo the button there. “I don’t understand,” I said weakly, feeling acutely how the position of my arms thrust my chest forward, as if offering my breasts to my boss.
Stuart moved to sit behind his enormous desk, watching me with cool detachment. “It’s clear to me, Melissa, that you’re experiencing a good deal of inner conflict,” he said. “About Mandy, about your role here at Selecta, about your own desires and boundaries. We need to resolve that conflict if we can.”
My eyes went wide as I absorbed his words. My mind raced, my thoughts desperately trying to process all of the overwhelming physical and emotional effects Stuart had on me. Suddenly, though, I didn’t want to try so hard. I didn’t even want to figure it out.
I lowered my hands to my sides.
“No,” I said, my voice trembling but firm. “I won’t do it. This isn’t appropriate.”
Stuart’s expression hardened. He rose from behind his desk, his tall form seeming to take up more of the room than he had any right to do.
Except that he has every right, a tiny voice in my head said. His office. And I’m… I’m his newest junior executive. I belong to him, too.
“Melissa,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “I gave you an order. I won’t ask again.”
I took a step back, my heart racing. “I said no,” I repeated, trying to inject strength into my voice. Even as I spoke, I felt the treacherous heat building low in my belly. I refused to think about it. I refused to think, period.
Stuart moved with surprising speed for such a large man. Before I could react, he grabbed my arm and spun me around. I gasped as he pulled me against his chest, his strong arms encircling me.
“Let me go!” I cried, struggling against his grip. Stuart was far stronger than me, though. With practiced ease, he maneuvered me toward the leather couch against the wall.
My heart pounded as Stuart sat down, pulling me across his lap in one fluid motion. I could feel the heat of his thighs through my skirt, the firm pressure of his hand on my lower back holding me in place.
“Stuart, please,” I pleaded, my voice muffled against the couch cushions. “Don’t do this.”
But Stuart paid no heed to my protests. His hand came down hard on my upturned bottom. The sound, slightly muffled by my wool skirt, echoed in the quiet office. I yelped, more from surprise than pain, though my tummy flipped as I remembered all too well how the agony of my paddling had built over time.
“This is for your own good, Melissa,” Stuart said calmly as he continued to spank me, the words sounding to me like a kind of formal, ritual utterance. “You need to learn your place here. If you want the right to paddle Mandy, you have to show you can obey me.”