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)
“You see the paddle, Ingrid,” his voice said in my ear, not loudly but with absolute authority. “This is your last chance to keep from feeling it on this gorgeous little ass this afternoon.”
“I…” I said, my voice so thick with fear, arousal, and shame that I could hardly recognize it. “I… I… don’t…”
The hand probed. I whimpered from deep in my throat as I felt Mr. Alden’s skillful fingers work their way inside the gusset of the thong. I felt them slip and slide with the humiliating abundance of my liquid need, running along the sensitive cleft of my private lips, to the hood of my clit, and back to the opening—the place I hadn’t had a man’s hardness in more than a year.
Jake had been my first and only sexual partner. We had had sex twice before I had broken up with him—once before the naughty selfies and once after, and neither time had felt the way I thought sex was supposed to feel.
To my dismay, I realized that this—the terrible things Mr. Alden had done to me, was doing to me—felt that way. Like the crawling, tingling sensation in my tummy when I saw something naughty in a video, or when stealing a glance at a couple in the park. My tummy… and further down, so that I had to fast forward or look away to keep myself from the temptation of putting my own hand down there.
The thought made me try to twist away. I took my hands off my head and used them for leverage, shifting around to my right. I felt like I almost evaded his grasp. Mr. Alden gave a little grunt, though, and grabbed me around the waist, his left hand on my right hip and his right hand squeezing my pussy so hard I let out a scream of mingled discomfort and terrible, helpless arousal.
He began to move me toward the desk again. I struggled, but it only seemed to make the problem worse.
The problem: the way I’m supposed to be a high-powered businesswoman. Not an executive, no… not yet—but on my way, someday, working my way up from a high school education in the cruel corporate world. A high-powered businesswoman in training. Interviewing for the job that should finally get her started on her way. ‘Opportunities for rapid advancement.’
With an executive’s hand between her legs. Being marched toward his desk, where there’s a paddle to punish her for not taking off her clothes when told to do so.
“I’m going to paddle you until you strip for me, Ingrid Vogel,” Mr. Alden growled. “Then I’m going to paddle you for disobedience. Then we’re going to fuck.”
He had me to the edge of the desk. His left hand came off my hip, but before I could react, I felt it on my back, pushing me, bending me over, toward the terrifying wooden paddle. Blond wood, like the door Mr. Alden had locked to make sure I stayed here for my ‘interview.’ Three holes that I knew—much to my embarrassment, in fact—the blade had to help it travel faster through the air and inflict more pain on a miscreant’s backside.
“Elbows on the desk, sweetheart,” he commanded. “If it helps, I’m only going to have you strip to your lingerie. I like to fuck girls in lacy underwear, and with this thong on I don’t even have to pull your panties down if I don’t want to, when I paddle you. You can save yourself the first part of your punishment by taking off your skirt and your blouse right now.”
His left hand pressed with more force, while his right worked me degradingly but skillfully between my thighs. My breath had begun to come in ragged pants, and I felt so lightheaded I wondered if I would faint.
I bent my head and I put my elbows on the desk. In my confused, fevered mind, I obeyed because I knew how shameful it was to get wet inside my panties, with a man’s hand there. To hear him say he meant to fuck me in my lingerie, and feel an ache in my vagina at the words.
“Good girl,” he said, and I watched him pick up the paddle.
CHAPTER 3
Ingrid
I knew, deep down, what happened to naughty young women. Or I knew what used to happen to them. Knowing that—knowing that what Mr. Alden intended to do to me represented merely the fate a girl would, or should, have expected for her disobedience in the olden days—made my defiance flare up. I hated myself in that moment for thinking, insanely but also very deep down inside, that a willful young woman really should expect to be made to bend over with her skirt up over a man’s desk.
I took advantage of the momentary absence of Mr. Alden’s hands from my body. I stood up and darted to the right, toward the enormous window with its amazing view of the busy city and the vast lake beyond. I glanced over my shoulder to gauge Mr. Alden’s reaction, and saw him straightening up, the paddle still in his left hand and his right reaching inside his suit jacket. To my horror, he had a little smile on his face.