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)
He shared his own story readily between bites: his humble beginnings on the East Coast and the apparently relentless determination that had propelled him to the top of Selecta’s communications division. I asked and listened, captivated by his unapologetic drive and the way his eyes seemed to darken when he spoke of the challenges he’d faced.
“And now,” he said, setting his fork down with a decisive clink, “I find myself intrigued by a young woman who is both naive and ambitious. It’s an intoxicating combination, Ingrid.”
My lips parted, but I had nothing to say. All the parts of Joseph’s ‘fun game’ that had for a while receded so far into the back of my mind that I hadn’t even thought about it came rushing back. His words had nothing the least bit lewd about them, but the way his eyes narrowed as he said intoxicating sent a shiver down my spine and a tingle to my clit. Joseph looked, suddenly, as though he planned to eat me for dessert.
The waiter cleared our plates. Joseph’s eyes stayed locked on mine for a moment, as if he meant to assess me—to evaluate my progress, maybe. Then he looked up at the waiter and spoke.
“Hold off on the dessert, would you, until the lady gets back from the powder room?”
“Certainly, sir,” the waiter replied smoothly. He used a little silver scoop on the table, clearing crumbs from the wonderful bread away, and moved off across the dining room.
I blinked at Joseph as his eyes returned to mine. I had just peed a few minutes ago. I didn’t understand: had I done something to my makeup? I opened my mouth, about to protest, but Joseph cut me off, not with words, but with a gesture.
I felt my pulse quicken as he reached into his inside breast pocket. Of all the things he might have fetched out, the small velvet box that he placed carefully on the table between us seemed the most utterly surprising. My heart leaped at the sight of it, the insane, unwelcome, but undeniable hope of it holding a ring flashing through my mind.
What the… My modest mind balked, then continued as I considered the absurdity of keeping myself from thinking the terrible, naughty words Joseph used as if people said them all the time. What the fuck?
Joseph’s eyes narrowed even more as he watched my reaction. His smile had faded slightly, as if he meant this moment to feel serious or even solemn.
“Open it,” he commanded, his voice low and firm. The mere return of that authoritative voice made my tummy flip. To my horror, I actually fidgeted in my seat, and saw in Joseph’s eyes that he knew precisely why: his voice had reminded me of all of it—the state of my private parts, of the whole region between my waist and my knees that he had so thoroughly claimed for himself over the past forty-eight hours.
With trembling hands, I lifted the lid, grateful to lower my eyes. I revealed something of a kind I had never seen before, a gleaming metal object adorned with a large, multifaceted gemstone. Next to it lay a little plastic tube that seemed to have a clear fluid in it. My eyes widened in confusion, the unfamiliar shape sending a jolt of uncertainty through me.
“Do you know what this is, Ingrid?” Joseph asked, his tone quiet but unyielding.
I shook my head, my mouth suddenly dry. “N-no, I don’t.”
“It’s a butt plug,” he explained, his gaze never leaving mine. “You’re going to wear it for me until I take it out later tonight and fuck your bottom. It’s very important to me that your anus be trained for my pleasure.”
My jaw went slack. I thought my heart might pound through my chest and land on the crisp white tablecloth.
“You…” I said, though the word came out as more of a creak than an articulate syllable.
“Sir,” Joseph said. “From now on, tonight.”
“B-but…” I said. Joseph bent his head toward me a little, his left eyebrow rising. The way my body responded to that tiny movement, as if he had somehow, with the wand and the paddle, installed the fear of his discipline in my mind, nearly overwhelmed me. My breath went in and out of my mouth in little pants. I tried again. “But, sir… I…”
I had thought about it. Before yesterday I probably would never have admitted even that to myself. But after my shameful onboarding interview, the waxing, my naughty morning in bed… I could admit, it seemed, that I had wondered what it would feel like to… to have something there. Filling me in an unnatural, lewd, terribly mortifying way.
“Let me be clear, Ingrid,” Joseph murmured, the softness of his voice’s volume in sharp contrast to the severity of the tone. “A Selecta secretary doesn’t go fully off duty in her off-work hours. If you decline to do as you’re told, and you decide to remain as my secretary, I will punish you and use the wand if necessary to ensure your obedience.”