Page 7 of The Councilor

“Four. Three. Two.”

“You are an asshole but fine.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“Good girl. Now, raise your skirt and lower your panties.”

This man was nuts. Certifiable. “Over my dead body.”

“Then time has run out.”

He was dead serious. I was ready to claw his eyes out. I wanted to work for this asshole? I closed my eyes briefly, remembering I’d applied for somewhere in the neighborhood of one hundred intern positions. I had few choices, unless I wanted to wait tables for truckers for the rest of my life. “Why is that important?”

He gave me a look that most women would consider lurid. To me, he was just asserting his entitlement and dominance. “Simple. It hurts more.”

Well, hell. At least he was honest.

I wanted so badly to tell him off but knew better. I turned away, my face likely turning beet red. This was the most embarrassing thing I’d been through and a lot of stupid stuff had occurred at the diner where I’d worked. I couldn’t face him as I fought with the tight pencil skirt, almost ripping the material before I pulled it over my hips.

“Lie across my desk. I’ll find the appropriate implement.”

“Do you do this all the time?”

“No, but there’s always a first time for everything.” There was far too much glee in his voice.

I shoved down the heavy shame and lowered my thong, ready to smash everything on his expensive desk on the floor. But I did as I was told, thankful it was very early in the morning.

A few seconds ticked by with no noise.

Two minutes.

Oh, on top of this humiliation, the bastard was making me wait, increasing my level of anticipation? I would find a way to claw his eyes out.

If I didn’t kill him first.

I finally heard either a drawer or cabinet being opened. Footsteps occurred later and I was ready to bark at him to get this shit over with. But I held my tongue. See? I could be a lady.

When I sensed he was right behind me, I sucked in my breath, mostly to keep from saying something I’d regret. I’d been through pain before including stupid acts like getting glass embedded in my hand from sticking it in the trash and slipping on a wet floor, flying halfway across the back room of the diner.

Humiliation was something else altogether.

“Now, grab the edge of my desk and remain in position.” His voice was deeper, gravellier than before.

I tried to ignore the fact because it was sultry, my skin prickled. And worse, my core was heating up. Yeah,thatwould bode well for my first day on the job.

Now he was the one sucking in his breath, daring to tap my exposed bottom with something cold.

There was a strange sound, like metal being brought down quickly through the air. When the thin but highly effective implement was brought down smack across both cheeks, I reared up from the desk so fast, I thought my head would spin.This was an entirely different kind of pain, the kind that washed up from my toes and spread like wildfire to all my extremities.

This was some normal practice?

Barbaric.

“Stay in position.” Was his voice always this commanding?

Before I eased back prone to the desk, I glanced out his window at the incredible sunrise shimmering across the New York skyline. What a view. I couldn’t believe I was thinking that. Maybe my brain needed an escape. When I was back in position, my almost new boss brought what felt like a metal ruler down at least four times in rapid succession.

Did metal rulers actually exist any longer?

Well, he had one.

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