Corporate Slaves – The Women - Book 1: Recruitment (eBook)
Ellen Clark was looking for–Ellen Clark. Marriage? That hadn’t worked out, and now it was behind her. She needed a job and someone to care about her. A career at the prestigious firm of Verdun & Associates wasn’t her only hope, it was her best hope. Yet she knew so little about her prospective employer, only that the firm was almost exclusively female and the personnel were well compensated and fiercely loyal. She needed to belong somewhere, to someone; how far would she go to make it happen?
"I’m Connie Drexler, Ms Dumont’s Administrative Assistant." She shook Ellen’s hand and motioned her into a small conference room. "Ms Dumont is on a conference call, she’ll see you as soon as she’s through. Coffee?"
"Yes, thank you."
Connie set the service on the table and the women helped themselves to coffee.
"You’re the one," Connie’s eyes peered over the rim of her cup, "the one everyone’s talking about, from the clinic yesterday."
Ellen shrugged her shoulders, "Guilty."
Connie touched Ellen’s hand, "There’s nothing to be ashamed about, you’re quite beautiful, and," she looked to see that they were alone, "I bet at least half the management had to call in one of their girls to see to their needs after your performance. I know Mistress Dumont needed some, uh, special attention.
"Here is your preliminary information," Connie handed Ellen an expensive leather day planner. "This has your e-mail account info, passwords, public transportation passes, important telephone numbers, and other good-to-know stuff. This," she slid a large plastic binder across the table, "is background info on the corporate account you’ll be assigned to. You’ll be teamed with one of the senior girls, Donna; she’ll help you get adjusted to how we work."
Connie led Ellen to the work area and pointed to an old-fashioned white board sectioned off into day and time grids. "Here’s where I schedule the girls for their spa and workout sessions; be sure and check it daily, as I sometimes have to move things around due to work requirements." Her voice became serious, "First and foremost, Verdun & Associates is a business, a profitable business; if it weren’t for that," her eyes took on a mischievous twinkle, "there wouldn’t be any of the really fun stuff."
"Darling, you are stunning." Stephanie Dumont circled Ellen, who sat in an Aeron office chair. "Your little video yesterday didn’t do you justice."
"Thank you, Mistress," Ellen blushed. In forty eight hours she’d received more compliments, attention and affection than she had in three years of marriage. Maybe I’ve been playing on the wrong fucking team.
Stephanie Dumont was of average height, made supremely taller by the high designer stiletto heels that were the Verdun corporate standard. Her blue skirted suit and pink silk shell were expensive and well fitted. She was attractive, not a stunner, with brown hair starting to show gray here and there.
"Stand up, remove your skirt," Stephanie ordered.
"Yes, Mistress." Somehow the ‘yes, Mistress’ was coming easily for Ellen, rolling off her tongue without a thought. She quickly removed the skirt, carefully folded it and placed it over the back of the chair.
Stephanie lovingly ran her hands over Ellen’s hips, tracing the garter straps to the stocking tops. "Vivienne and Jerri do know how to bring out the best in our girls, follow their fashion counsel and you won’t go wrong."
Stephanie’s hands pushed aside Ellen’s flimsy panties and probed at her sex.
Ellen shook, afraid her knees might buckle.
"Shhh, be still," Stephanie’s breath was hot in Ellen’s ear. "I’m only inspecting you. Dominique wants you smooth and hairless down there and I quite agree. At any time, I may inspect you." Stephanie’s finger flicked inside the opening and Ellen gasped. "Or I might assign one of my staff to do it," she rotated her finger in Ellen’s hot, wet channel, "in front of everyone."
"Oh, oh, Mistress," Ellen nearly collapsed.
"Shh," Stephanie kissed Ellen’s cheek, "you’ll be all right," she whispered. "Get dressed." She watched a shaking Ellen get dressed. "You’re highly sexual and responsive, that can be a valuable commodity here."
"Y-y-yes, t-thank you, Mistress."
"Productivity and obedience are rewarded," Stephanie said, "in any number of ways. Disobedience…" she pushed a button on her intercom and Connie entered. "Do we have anyone on a punishment schedule?"
"Yes, Mistress," Connie said, "Ann missed her workout session."
"Then assemble the staff, Ellen, you go with Connie."
Ellen, Connie and the rest of the staff waited in the conference. Ellen couldn’t take her eyes off the blonde bent face down over the conference table. Her garter belt and stockings framed a creamy white bottom and her panties were pulled down around her ankles.
Stephanie entered the room; in one hand she held an evil looking wooden paddle, in the other, a wicked leather strap.
Connie held up an index card and read from it, "For missing her workout appointment Ann Crawford will receive 12 strokes."
Stephanie grabbed the blonde’s hair and pulled up her head, "Do you have anything to say, girl, before I administer punishment?"
"Oh, Mistress, I’m so, so sorry."
"I know," Stephanie said as she stroked the firm young bottom, "and you’re going to be sorrier."
Ann heaved from the sobs, as she knew what was coming. Unlike some of the others, she didn’t take pain well.
Ellen’s eyes were riveted to the scene as she watched Stephanie take her place behind and to the left of Ann. "Is she really going to-"
"Just try to never, never fuck up," Connie whispered, "this is as real as it gets."
The first blow from the paddle landed with a resounding ‘crack’ against the soft flesh. Ann howled in pain and was thrust forward across the polished wooded table.
"Hold your position, or I’ll double the count," Stephanie ordered.
Ann sobbed; it was the guttural sound of a wounded animal.
The second blow landed nearly atop the first and the girl screeched. Some of the onlookers flinched, while a few remained strangely impassive.
The third and fourth blows were, somewhat mercifully, arrayed on different parts of the buttocks, which now glowed red.
Ann’s hand instinctively reached around, seeking defense from the terrible onslaught.
"Get those hands back on the table," Stephanie growled. She used the paddle to further spread Ann’s legs and shoved menacing wooden tormentor into Ann’s sex.
The assembled throng gasped appreciatively as they watched Ann’s hips buck, seeking pleasure from her abuser.
Stephanie held the paddle firm as Ann wriggled on it, "What a slut, she fucks her punisher." Stephanie removed the paddle, its end glistening with Ann’s flow. She held it to Ann’s mouth, noting that more than a few in the crowd would beg for the privilege of licking the paddle clean.
Ann blinked away her tears and her pink tongue lapped away, planting a final kiss on the wood when she finished.
Stephanie pulled away the paddle, holding it up for all to see, "Two more with the paddle."
"Ooohhh," Ann uttered the most pitiful wail, yet she withstood the final two blows of the paddle.
Stephanie held the paddle before Ann’s tear-streaked face as Ann kissed the implement of her torture, "T-thank you, M-Mistress."
Stephanie used her cruel high heels to kick Ann’s legs further apart. "Six with the strap and you will have paid your penance. And I doubt you’ll ever miss another appointment."
"Oh, God, yes, Mistress, I promise."
The first strike of the leather strap across the inside of her thigh was like fire. She shrieked. If anyone in another office heard it they paid it no mind: rewards and punishments, they were the Yin and Yang of Verdun & Associates.
Ellen marveled at Stephanie’s facility with the strap. When she was done, Ann’s thighs were a patchwork of red stripes.
"Of course, it’s always different to watch it," Stephanie slowly pulled the strap through her hands, feeling the firmness of the leather. "To feel it is to really know, only then can one try their best to avoid it." She looked directly at Ellen.
Ellen’s mouth went dry, her legs weak. What does she want…
Connie had helped Ann away from the table and now Stephanie locked eyes with Ellen and nodded to the table, "A quick demonstration, to give you an impetus to avoid such in the future."
Ellen was frozen in place, "But, I-I d-didn’t-"
"Didn’t do anything?" Stephanie laughed. "Not a prerequisite, on the table. NOW! Don’t make it worse for yourself."
Ellen found herself being led to the table. Someone bent her face down over the end while another pair of hands pulled down her skirt. There were several ‘oohhs’ and ‘aahhs’ as she was displayed to the group around the table. She heard Connie’s voice beside her, "Take a deep breath, don’t break position; make Mistress Stephanie proud of you."
The leather kissed her bottom with a searing pain and she cried out, but she held her position. The second blow to her sensitive thigh made her leg jump; she moaned, but held fast. She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing, focus her thoughts – the pain…
"It’s OK," the voice sounded far away. "Stay there for a moment, don’t try and get up." Someone was wiping the tears from her face; they lifted her head and slipped a towel underneath, as a makeshift pillow. "Give yourself a few minutes." It was Connie’s voice.
Ellen opened her eyes; she was in the conference room; it was empty.
"Everyone’s gone back to work, we’ll join them, but not for a few moments," Connie pulled the matted hair from Ellen’s eyes. "I’ll help you fix your hair and makeup."
Ellen sought out Connie’s eyes, "Why, why did she…?"
"So you know; you can’t really know, can’t really understand and fear the consequences until you… Well, now you know." Connie helped a shaky Ellen stand. "You, you’re special; I mean, most girls, their first time, after a couple of strokes… But you…"
Ellen’s felt the dampness running down her leg, "Oh my God, I’m bleeding" her hand clutched at her moistened leg.
"No, you’re not," Connie looked around to see they were alone and pulled Ellen into a kiss, hungrily devouring her lips. When they broke the kiss Connie smiled, "You’re not bleeding, you’re special."
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