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)
Stuart addressed the room. “Gentlemen, I know I don’t need to remind you that I take maintaining proper order as crucial to Selecta’s success—just as I’m certain you do, in relation to your own teams. Melissa’s actions may have been well-intentioned—and, as I think we saw in this meeting, effective in getting good results—but they can’t go uncorrected.”
He glanced at Sharon with a smile before he turned back to Bradley, John, and Victor. “Melissa and Sharon here have something of a history, and I think it’s important that it be resolved to some extent. So I’ve asked Sharon to handle the necessary correction. I know you gentlemen won’t be averse to serving as witnesses.”
Sharon nodded, making eye contact with each of the men in turn. Then, her eyes gleaming with a predatory light, she looked at me as she continued, though she directed her words to Stuart. “Of course, Stuart. I’d be happy to.”
I turned my own gaze desperately to Stuart, beaming a plea for mercy. His gaze softened slightly as he looked at me, but his voice remained firm. “Melissa, you need to understand your place here, in relation to superiors like Sharon. You’re not a dominant—you’re what we generally call a switchy submissive. You have dominant tendencies, yes, but at your core, you crave submission. It’s time for you to accept that fully.”
I felt tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. Part of me wanted to protest, to argue that I was more than capable of being dominant. But a deeper part of me recognized the truth in Stuart’s words. I thought of how I’d felt bent over his desk, how I’d longed for his firm hand even as I disciplined Mandy.
Sharon stepped forward, her presence commanding the room. “Both Melissa and Mandy have violated company policy. Melissa’s is obviously the greater fault, but Mandy has been at Selecta longer, and she should have made certain the use of company resources—the punishment room and the time both of them took for this fictitious correction—had been authorized. I’m going to discipline both of them in front of you now, with your permission.”
I looked around the room with some vague, impossible hope that one of them would interfere with this mortifying, terrifying scene. I saw only satisfaction and even anticipation in the faces of the powerful men who sat at the conference table.
“Please go ahead, Sharon,” Stuart said, after he, too, had scanned his colleagues’ faces and received smiles in return. “I know you’ll make it memorable for all of us.”
To my surprise, then, however, Bradley cleared his throat. I turned to him wildly, hoping he might have thought of some reason I should be allowed to escape. Instead, his words only made the blaze in my cheeks—and, worse, between my thighs—burn all the hotter.
Bradley’s eyes gleamed with scientific interest, rather than mercy. “If I may, I’d like to add some context from Assessment’s perspective, for Miss Mitropoulos’ benefit,” he said. “Melissa, in case you had any doubt, our psycho-biometric analysis of your profile confirms Stuart’s informal analysis completely.”
I felt my heart skip a beat as Bradley’s words sank in. He continued, his voice taking on a clinical tone that somehow made the situation even more mortifying.
“Your neural patterns, hormonal fluctuations, and physiological responses all indicate a strong predisposition toward submission, with occasional dominant tendencies. In fact, your outburst at the orientation was a textbook example of what we call submissive overcompensation—a temporary surge of dominant behavior masking an underlying need for submission.”
As Bradley spoke, I felt a strange sensation wash over me. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth I’d been struggling to deny on the fundamental level, even as I pretended that I had acknowledged it. Suddenly, everything—my conflicted feelings, my responses to Stuart’s dominance, even my impulsive decision to discipline Mandy—made perfect sense.
I realized, with a jolt of clarity that left me breathless, that I absolutely belonged here at Selecta. My outburst at the orientation hadn’t been a rejection of their methods or philosophy; it had been a confirmation of how intense my need to dominate and submit truly was. The complexity of my desires, the depth of my submission, and even my occasional dominant impulses—all of it fit perfectly within Selecta’s framework.
Tears welled up in my eyes, but they weren’t tears of shame or fear. They were tears of relief, of recognition. I felt seen in a way I never had before, understood on a level I hadn’t known was possible.
I turned to Sharon, my voice trembling with emotion. “I… I’m sorry,” I said, the words coming out in a rush. “I’m so sorry for overstepping my bounds, for thinking I could take more control over Mandy than I really have. I see now that I was just… just trying to prove something to myself, maybe. But I understand now. I understand where I belong.”