Page 2 of His to Enjoy
“Come in,” came a crisp voice after I knocked.
Sharon Fagan was exactly what I had expected from a Selecta executive—impeccably dressed in a charcoal gray suit, her dark hair pulled back in a severe chignon. She gestured for me to sit in the chair across from her massive mahogany desk.
“Grace, I want to begin by expressing my sympathy for your situation,” she said, her tone professional, but not unkind. “However, I need you to understand that I cannot and will not go easy on you during this interview process. The standards for our business program are non-negotiable.”
I straightened my shoulders, trying to project more confidence than I felt. “I wouldn’t expect any special treatment, Ms. Fagan. I want to earn my place here.”
She studied me for a long moment, then leaned back in her chair. “Excellent. In that case, please remove your clothes.”
The words hit me like a slap. My mouth fell open slightly, and I felt that familiar heat creeping up my neck. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Remove your dress, Grace. I want to see you in your underwear.”
After two years of being filmed in my most intimate moments for NMB, I was amazed that I could still feel this embarrassed, this exposed, by a simple command. But I did. My hands trembled as I gripped the arms of my chair.
“Could I… maybe keep my clothes on?” I asked, hating how small my voice sounded.
Sharon’s expression remained unchanged. “I know you’re no stranger to traditional discipline, Grace. Your NMB records make that quite clear. What’s becoming apparent, however, is that being made subordinate to another woman presents a particular problem for you.”
My cheeks burned. She was right, and we both knew it. With Jacob, submission had felt natural, even arousing. But this—being commanded by this stern woman—felt different. Morechallenging. More threatening to whatever sense of self I had left.
“You have two choices,” Sharon continued, her voice level. “Remove your dress now so we can proceed with the interview, or call this whole thing off and go back to the folks at Selecta Solutions to explore your other options. I should also say that from this point on, though, disobedience is going to be punished in accordance with our corporate practices. The next time you fail to comply with an instruction, you’ll learn how little the company paddle feels like your ex-husband’s hand, firm as it might have been.”
My hands shook as I reached for the hem of my simple navy dress. The fabric felt impossibly heavy as I pulled it over my head, the air conditioning in the office making my skin prickle with goosebumps. I folded the dress carefully and placed it on the chair beside me, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity even as I stood before this stern woman in nothing but my plain white cotton bra and beige panties.
Sharon’s eyes swept over me with detached assessment, and I saw her mouth tighten with disapproval. “That underwear is completely unacceptable for a Selecta business candidate. It’s dowdy and unfeminine.”
My cheeks burned with shame as she opened a drawer in her desk and withdrew a set of delicate pink lace lingerie. The bra was sheer with tiny rosettes along the cups, and the matching panties were barely more than scraps of lace held together with satin ribbons.
“Put these on instead,” she commanded, placing the lingerie on the edge of her desk. “You’ll be wearing them for the remainderof your interview process—first with me, and then with the team leader for the team you’ll be joining as an intern.”
I stared at the provocative undergarments, my stomach dropping. “I… I can’t wear those. This is supposed to be a business interview.”
Sharon’s expression hardened. “I thought I told you exactly what would happen if you disobeyed again, Grace.”
Before I could respond, she was opening another drawer and withdrawing a stark white paddle emblazoned with Selecta’s red logo. The sight of it made my knees weak with a mixture of fear and that shameful arousal I couldn’t suppress.
“Bend over the desk,” she ordered, standing and moving around to my side.
Panic flooded through me. I dropped to my knees, scrambling for my dress on the floor. “This was a terrible mistake,” I gasped, tears already starting to flow. “I need to leave. I need to go right now.”
“Do you need help bending over the desk, Grace?” Sharon’s voice was perfectly calm, which somehow made it more terrifying.
I heard the soft click of the office door locking behind me, and a sob escaped my throat. There was no escape now. I looked up at the terrifying woman who loomed over me with the horrid paddle in her hand. I swallowed so hard it hurt.
I remembered how this had felt with the husband I’d thought I’d loved: how his physical presence and his handsome face had somehow helped me—as well as knowing, I suddenly realized, that he never spanked me very hard. It seemed utterly differentto submit to discipline from this woman I had just met, here in her office.
Trembling violently, I slowly stood and took the two steps that brought me to her imposing desk. I bit my lip as I leaned forward over the polished surface, my hands gripping the far edge as Sharon positioned herself behind me.
“We’ll have these down,” she said matter-of-factly, and I felt her hand inside the waistband of my panties. “You’re no stranger to bare-bottom discipline, are you, Grace?”
“Oh, no… please…” I murmured, trying to twist my hips so she couldn’t get the underwear down my thighs. “I… not on the bare, please?”
CHAPTER 2
Grace
“Don’t be silly, Grace,” Sharon said in a scornful tone, as she expertly pulled the garment down almost to my knees. “You of all people understand why naughty girls have their panties taken down.”
