Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 62063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Testing the door handle cautiously, I found it unlocked. A glimmer of hope sparked inside me. Slowly, I cracked the door open, peering out into the deserted hallway. The sleek, modern opulence of the Ostia offices now seemed stark and menacing, each shadow a potential threat.
I took a deep breath, pushing aside the memory of Malleus’ degrading words and the skilled way his fingers had claimed my body. There was no time to dwell on that now. I had noticed earlier, when walking to this room, that the stairs were only a few feet away. If I could reach them, maybe—just maybe—I could make it to the lobby and call for help.
Steeling myself, I opened the door a little further and slipped out, my bare feet whispering against the cold, polished floor. The air felt cooler against my exposed skin, raising goosebumps along my arms and legs. Each step was a calculated risk, my senses heightened by the fear of being caught.
My rational mind knew the odds were slim. They had undoubtedly designed this place to keep people like me contained. But desperation lent wings to my feet and courage to my heart. As I neared the stairwell door, I felt a fleeting sense of triumph.
But before I could reach it, a voice—deep and authoritative—pierced the silence, freezing me in my tracks.
“The door was unlocked to test you, columba,” Malleus said, his tone laced with grim satisfaction. “And you passed, though I’m afraid you won’t like your reward.”
CHAPTER 2
Sophia
I spun around to see that Malleus had come up right behind me in the mere few seconds since his voice had stopped my flight. I shied away from him, but his right hand darted out with a speed that belied the apparent casualness of the movement, as if he had grown so accustomed to manhandling naked young women that he could do it effortlessly.
His grip on my upper arm was like a vice, though. His fingers dug into my flesh with an intensity that bordered on painful. As he marched me back to the interview room, each step he took reverberated through my body. The carpet absorbed the sound, but the movement felt somehow loud inside me, echoing in my limbs and amplifying the terror coiling in my stomach.
The brightly lit little room loomed ahead, its stark, clinical light glaring through the narrow window of the heavy door. With a final, decisive shove, Malleus pushed the door open and propelled me inside. The door clicked shut behind us, the sound slicing through the air with a sense of ominous finality that made my heart pound even harder.
He guided me to the nearest chair positioned in the center of the room. Still holding my arm, he sat down. His sheer physical strength communicated itself to me in every movement. I felt like a fragile, mishandled doll that he might easily break by using just a little too much force as he positioned me.
His eyes, piercing blue and unrelenting, locked onto mine for a moment as he started to pull me down, upending me and guiding me roughly over his knee. I lost sight of his face and the room became a blur for a moment, my balance completely gone as the floor seemed to rush up at me.
I struggled, my arms flailing and my hands curled into fists to try to hit out at him. I kicked. The resistance, however, seemed not only useless but completely irrelevant. My hands made contact with the fabric of his suit, and underneath it I felt muscles upon muscles, so hard that I wondered if Malleus could even feel my attempts at bodily defiance.
My limbs tensed involuntarily when the hard surface of his knee made contact with my abdomen, then my naked lap. I felt the texture of his suit trousers beneath me, my mortifying nudity here in this corporate setting a reminder of his control and my vulnerability.
Malleus hadn’t said anything, after telling me I would receive a “reward” for my “passing” his “test” and trying to escape. Somehow, despite a concerted effort to tell myself that I had no idea what he would do, I had known. I had known even as he marched me back down the hall, long before he had wordlessly made the matter completely clear by putting me over his knee this way.
I knew, deep down and in spite of absolutely not wanting to know, what happened at the Ostia Modeling Agency to naked girls who tried to run away. I let out a little sob as I felt his left hand seize my hip and his right hand take hold of my backside to reposition me slightly, raise my bottom, and lower my head. My mind raced, wondering what my first spanking would feel like, the uncertainty of the impending pain mingling with an unwelcome curiosity that I couldn’t quite suppress.