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)
“You’re an intelligent girl, Melissa,” Stuart said, his eyes narrowing. “I think you can figure out that I spanked you for disobedience, and I’m going to paddle you for dereliction of duty. If you want to punish Mandy for insubordination, you need to learn to subordinate yourself to me.”
CHAPTER 13
Stuart
I studied Melissa’s face with great care as she took in my words. To my inward delight—though I kept my facial expression stern—I saw in her troubled eyes that she had appreciated the precision of my language. Insubordination and subordinate had their full and complete meanings for her, as they did for me—in ‘not’; sub ‘under’; ordo, ordinis ‘order.’ Heck, maybe this promising young woman had even studied a little actual Latin—with her brains, I wouldn’t have put it past her.
I watched her mind work through it, saw the light go on in her gorgeous brown eyes as she grasped the central truth I meant to convey: the order of things, here at Selecta Entertainment, belonged to me. Best of all, I could tell just how deeply the idea affected her, on my very favorite level of power-exchange eroticism: a brilliant young woman’s helplessly submissive mind. I had to confess my own heart sped up—and, more problematic, warmed at the thought of guiding Melissa Mitropoulos into a fully self-actuated future.
This girl represents serious emotional complications, I realized. I saw suddenly why I had so studiously avoided thinking too much about her over the past few days—ever since I had seen her walk by my office so purposefully. Romantic, even.
Well, so be it. It wasn’t every day a junior executive who idolized Gibbon, Carlyle, and Darwin joined my team. Even better, and rarer—a gorgeous brunette who clearly wanted to deny just how turned on it got her to have the adorable fuzz on her pussy characterized as a dereliction of duty.
“Do you want to go back over my knee before you get the paddle?” I asked calmly, raising my eyebrows a little. “Because I can certainly do that, Melissa. In fact, it would be my pleasure.”
Melissa swallowed hard and visibly, her eyes widening. Maybe only the folks in Assessment could tell me with absolute precision, but my dominant instinct said that she had just clenched between her thighs at the specific idea of how much enjoyment I got out of punishing her. Her little fists trembled at her sides. They moved inward, as if she wanted to cover the tender little cleft whose slightly unkempt state had put her afoul of my requirements. Then they rose a little, perhaps with a surge of fight/flight in her nervous system.
Then, finally, I saw a pout of resignation come over her face. I felt certain she had reached the inevitable conclusion, the one that would above all help her get her needs met: she had no choice but to obey me, and put herself under my order. She swallowed again, and turned toward my desk. As she moved slowly toward it, I fetched the paddle out from its drawer.
Melissa stood looking down at the polished surface of the desk, as if lost in thought. I could almost see into her mind: she must be replaying the similar scene on her first real day here in the office, when I had inspected her after her paddling from Sharon, then left her unsatisfied instead of fucking her.
It’s going to be very different today, Melissa, I thought, as with a shudder she bent over to support herself on her elbows. Her adorable ass, a very special shade of pink, brought a jump to my already hard cock as she arched her back and pushed her backside out. Very, very different.
Melissa
I couldn’t believe it. Any of it, really: the stripping, the walking, the bending, even the feel of the smooth surface of Stuart’s elegant desk under my spread palms and my bare forearms.
The arching of my back, though: that took me to a new level of incredulity at myself. It had happened so instinctively—as if I had a Melissa inside me who knew how a young woman, naked in her boss’ office for a paddling, ought to adjust her posture to show her… her subordination.
As if that Melissa were getting ready to paddle another girl—a girl who had committed insubordination, or dereliction of duty.
Mandy. I had just pushed out my bottom the way I would have liked to tell Mandy, in a stern, strict voice, to push out her bottom. To show me, one of her bosses, that she knew she had a severe, painful lesson coming. The way I would tell her to arch her back and offer her ass for punishment, because that constituted the real reason I had just consented to my own paddling, didn’t it?
Yes, it absolutely did. Stuart had made it crystal clear: if I wanted the authority to impose order on my subordinates, I had to show that I could comply with—that I could, quite literally, bend over in acceptance of—the larger order of which I represented a part.