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)
As I took a path toward the door that curved out so as to stay out of the awful, handsome man’s reach, I understood that the door of course remained locked. When I got there, I didn’t even try the handle; I turned around and put my back to the door, smoothing down my skirt, which had already half descended back into place as I made my futile attempt at escape.
I looked at Mr. Alden. He had put the paddle back down on his desk, and he had something small and shiny in his right hand. It looked a little like an alien weapon from a science fiction movie—the kind of device that seems tiny and innocent, but can kill a huge monster with space rays or something. He still stood right where he had the last time I had looked at him, but when our eyes met, he began to move slowly toward me.
“Help!” I yelled. “Help! Please!”
I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before. What this… this asshole intended to do to me… it was illegal. I assumed that he must have a plan for shutting me up—I felt my heart skip a beat as my mind started to explore the scenarios that might involve—but he hadn’t done it yet, for some reason.
Selecta was a megacorp—a publicly traded company, though I had to admit I didn’t know exactly what that meant. Something about the stock market, but the kind of thing that only mattered to rich people, like everything about the stock market. I felt absolutely sure, though, that an executive at a publicly traded company would get in trouble for violating, like, all my civil rights. In a sexual way, no less.
He’d said some things about Selecta being… different, sure. I couldn’t remember precisely the words he’d used, but they had something to do with being old-fashioned. Well, old-fashioned had to mean, like, law-abiding, didn’t it?
“Everyone in the office,” Mr. Alden said as he walked slowly forward toward me, making me press my back—and my butt—even more firmly against the door, “knows that you’re going to get fucked in here, Ingrid. And now that they’ve heard you yelling for help, they’ve all got a very strong suspicion you’re going to get paddled first. Many of them—the other secretaries, that is—know from experience what a paddling from their boss feels like.”
He spoke in a very reasonable, even soothing voice. I blinked rapidly at him. He kept coming closer. I put up my hands in front of me, palms out, as if I could push him away.
“They know,” he continued, still moving forward and now holding the little shiny thing in his hand up a little, extending it slightly toward me, “that it hurts a great deal, but not as much as they feared before they experienced their first real discipline.”
My mouth hung open. My breath came raggedly in and out between my lips. Mr. Alden stopped about two feet away—just close enough to feel too close. Also, however, close enough that my body’s wayward, helpless, distressing response to his proximity began to take hold of my limbs, my nervous system, my muscles. I felt my knees tremble under me, and I tried to back up even further for the support of the solid wood.
“The… the police…” I tried, hearing the weakness in my voice. “This is… you’ll go to… to jail…”
His lips twitched, his smile widening a little, with a flicker of what must, I saw with a sinking heart, be amusement.
“Have you heard of the corporate laws, Ingrid?” he asked.
I blinked again. “Yes?”
Well, I had. Kind of?
“What do you know about them, sweetheart?” Mr. Alden asked, smiling more broadly, but with a stomach-churning air of arrogance and superiority, as if there was surely a great deal I didn’t know about the corporate laws.
“They… they let corporations…” I felt my cheeks blaze with heat, “um… do stuff.”
Function as little governments, I think they’d said, in my civics class. Which made so much sense, because they had gotten so big they had to be able to… to make their own laws, kind of.
My breathing sped way, way up. I tried to remember what my civics teacher had said about conflicts, between real laws and the corporate laws. How the company’s laws only applied to their employees.
“I’m not a Selecta employee!” I blurted out, my voice sounding absurdly triumphant given the terrible situation.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Ingrid. We hired you an hour ago. You’re under Selecta’s jurisdiction now.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t sign anything.”
“You don’t have to, sweetheart. That’s part of the corporate laws. It makes it easier for us to help people, by immediately giving them the steady work everyone needs in our difficult economic circumstances. Congratulations, Ingrid, you’re the new executive secretary for my unit. Now go back to the desk and bend over it. You have a paddling coming, before I break your tight little pussy in properly with my cock.”