Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 58185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
By the time she is sent home with instructions to return to work tomorrow without her panties, Ingrid has not only been roughly claimed over her employer’s desk and then put on her knees and made to thank him properly for it, she’s also come harder than she’d ever thought possible.
But it isn’t until the next day that she learns just how shamefully she will be used and enjoyed. That’s when her boss will share her with the other executives… and when he’ll take her the one way he hasn’t yet, the way she’s too embarrassed to even imagine being taken by a man.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
Ingrid
“I’m sure you’re used to your job title being administrative assistant, or maybe even project manager or office manager,” the executive vice president, a fit, fiftyish man named Mr. Alden, told me. “I don’t know.”
I frowned at him across his desk. He’d read my resumé, hadn’t he?
“I…” I started to say, a little uncertainly. The ad I’d answered hadn’t said anything about the nature of the job, beyond being secretarial, but the salary range had made my eyes go very round.
“Frankly,” he continued smoothly, as if I hadn’t made a sound, “I haven’t read your resumé. You’re here because of your pretty face and your sweet little body.”
I blinked at him, heat flooding into my cheeks. I had supplied my social media details; that had become absolutely standard in applying for jobs over the last few years. So I guessed he had seen photos of me, and… and… what?
Mr. Alden didn’t have any interest, apparently, in telling me more about that. “At any rate,” he said, “at Selecta, your job title will be secretary.”
I felt the wrinkle between my eyebrows get deeper. I had grown up in a world where the men and women who did paperwork and scheduled meetings—the ones, like me after my two-year degree in business, who could type one hundred fifty words a minute—got jobs with official-sounding titles. The ones Mr. Alden had named, pretty much. A secretary was someone who worked high up in the government.
But I knew, from books and old movies, that another kind of secretary had once represented an essential, if subservient, part of the corporate world.
“Um,” I said, though after having interviewed successfully for two previous admin assistant positions I liked to think of myself as an articulate interviewee, “why?”
I definitely had enough skill to make certain I maintained eye contact and kept a pleasant smile on my face. It only wavered for a moment, when I saw the obvious disapproval in Mr. Alden’s answering gaze.
To my surprise and dismay, despite my business training and all the preparation I had put into this interview, I lowered my eyes. My cheeks blazed.
“Because, Ingrid,” Mr. Alden replied. “At Selecta we embrace an older kind of organization in our offices. You’ll get used to it soon enough, if we hire you. In fact, it’s probably time for you to start getting used to it right now. Why don’t you go ahead and take off your clothes for me.”
I heard not the slightest hint of a question mark at the end of his sentence. I raised my eyes, willing them to blaze with righteous indignation, but I knew they only showed him utter confusion. Mr. Alden’s simple blue-eyed handsomeness, the way he wore his charcoal gray suit as if he had been born a rich executive and the thirty-odd years since then had only added to his wealth and his superiority, made it difficult to respond the way I wanted to—and I hated myself for that.
Instead of trying to hold his steady, ironic gaze, I turned my head to look at the door. I commanded my legs to get up. I didn’t want to risk speaking, because I felt certain I would burst into tears. Just walking out of the office, hastening to the elevator, and getting the hell out of the building seemed the obvious course of action.
Then I’ll just forget I ever applied for this job, with its high salary range and its ‘opportunities for rapid advancement.’ I’ll forget how excited I was when I got the message telling me I’d gotten an interview.
I’ll forget what happened inside my body when this… this monster said that horrible thing.
“It’s locked,” Mr. Alden said. “I locked it when you came in.”
I turned back to look at him, my jaw slack. Then I understood that he must mean locked from the inside, so that if I obeyed his humiliating instructions at least no one would come in.
“You’re thinking,” he said, “that I mean to reassure you. To tell you that no one can disturb us while you get naked—or while I fuck you, which I’m going to do very soon. That’s not what I mean, though. I mean that you can’t get out until I let you out.”
I felt completely certain, for an instant, he intended a truly bizarre, awful, degrading joke. The expression on his clean-shaven face, distractingly framed by his somehow neatly tousled golden hair, told me the situation was much, much worse than I’d thought, however. He had narrowed his eyes slightly, and his lips wore a smile that made my stomach lurch.
The little curl at the left side of his mouth told me that he felt completely in control of the situation. That he had told me nothing but the truth, at least as he perceived it, and that he took pleasure as well as knowledge from watching my mortified response.