Page 36 of His to Correct

I came instantly: something about the sight of Mandy’s wide eyes, her open, panting lips drove me over the edge and into space, as much as the buzz of the dildo inside me. I felt like a porn model, an ancient priestess. I cried out as the pleasure swept through me, my knees so wobbly that I nearly fell down.

“Thank you, miss,” Mandy said. “I’ll… I’m… I’m so glad you’re here. I’m going to be such a good girl for you, from now on.”

I took deep breaths through my nose as my heart rate began to return to normal.

“I’ll do my best to make sure of it, Mandy,” I told her, thrilled in more ways than I could count at the steadiness of my voice. “I’ll bring you back here as often as I need to.”

CHAPTER 18

Melissa

Mandy was as good as her word, at least for the next few days. She gave me a spot on Stuart’s Tuesday morning calendar, and sent the invitation to me with the note,Sorry it took so long, Melissa!Somehow, when I read it I felt as if rather thanMelissa,Mandy really meantmiss, and the idea sent a little jolt of need through my lower body.

The sensation was a bit unwelcome at that busy moment, right after I had sat down at my monitor Monday morning ready to start the week. I tried to lean into it, though. I remembered the discipline session in Room 5003, with all its power dynamics and all its heat, and I tried to take a sense of my growing authority from it, while at the same time practicing a skill I had begun to find essential here at Selecta: experiencing arousal without giving in to it.

I made it through that day, somehow, trying not to obsess about the minute details of the proposal. I even managed to get a goodnight’s sleep, willing myself into unconsciousness with the help of an audiobook ofOrigin of Species.

The next morning, I sat across from Stuart in the sitting area of his vast office, my heart racing with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety as I presented my ideas for theYour Secret Gardencampaign at last. I had spent countless hours refining the concept, drawing inspiration from classic literature and modern technology to create something I hoped and believed might be truly unique.

“So you see,” I explained, gesturing to the figures on the screen of the laptop that sat on the coffee table, “it’s a segment that Assessment knows is there. They just haven’t ever targeted these women.”

Stuart nodded, his face thoughtful. Looking into his gorgeous, intelligent eyes, I struggled for a moment with the recollection that this man had spanked me, paddled me, fucked me, come down my throat… and here I was presenting to him in a completely businesslike way, seeking his approval for my work as if that strange, dark intimacy had never existed. Just another day at Selecta, it seemed like.

“It’s not what NMB has ever really been about,” he confirmed. “That’s a legacy of Selecta’s heritage.”

“Right,” I said, smiling. This couldn’t have gone any better, I started to realize. I had actually prepared for precisely this point in the conversation, going back into the fascinating, sometimes arousing, often embarrassing, real history of Selecta—a history only executive-level staff could access, though it seemed they rarely did, judging from my interactions with my colleagues. “The Institute’s clientele are definitely not from this segment.”

To my delight, Stuart actually laughed.

“No, I think it’s fair to say the Institute managed to make hundreds of billions of dollars without even thinking about needy submissives already in relationships. When they used that capital to start a megacorp, no one thought about how to extend the market for assets like NMB.”

I nodded. “Right,” I said again. “So…”

I tried to read Stuart’s face, but I ended up having to look away because the sight of his gorgeous blue eyes studying me so minutely threatened to derail my train of thought so completely I might not recover.

“So, frankly,” he said, pausing slightly as if to make sure I felt the suspense, and understood how thoroughly he intended to control the conversation, “it’s brilliant, Melissa.”

I swallowed hard, heat flooding my cheeks. I risked a glance at him, part of me needing to make certain Stuart didn’t mean to mock me. The appreciation on his face told me, to my joy, that he was absolutely serious.

“This is precisely the kind of unconventional thinking I’ve been hoping for, from you. Even if it turns out that this market doesn’t materialize, or the c-suite thinks it’s not a good fit, the idea is a good one—and, even better, a bold one. You can go ahead and ask Mandy to set up a meeting for the whole team, so that we can start drafting something to take upstairs.”

I felt a flush of pride and pleasure at his words. “Thank you, sir,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “I really believe this could be a flagship project for Selecta, showcasing our commitment to innovation in the stories we tell on NMB.”

Stuart nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I agree. We’ll need to hammer out the technical aspects, of course, but you’ve given us an excellent foundation to build upon.”

He paused, his eyes still fixed on mine. I could feel something change, as if in the very air of the office. A gear engaging, or a step forward being taken. When Stuart spoke again, his voice was low and intimate.

“You’ve done exceptional work here, Melissa. I’d like to celebrate your achievement. However preliminary it is, I think it’s worth honoring. Are you free for dinner this evening?”

My mind reeled at the invitation. Dinner with Stuart? Outside the office? I felt a dizzying mix of excitement, anxiety, and arousal flood through me. To my paradoxical distress, I felt a sudden surge of gratitude that I had remembered to get my pussy waxed over the weekend. Again the idea of how he had already dominated me so thoroughly and shamefully—without the slightest idea of something civilized like a dinner date had—rose into my mind.

“I… yes, of course,” I managed to stammer out. “I’d be honored, sir.”

Stuart’s smile widened slightly. “Excellent. I’ll send a car for you at seven.”

When I greeted Joe, the evening doorman of my building, he asked me to wait a moment, and then fetched a package from behind the reception desk.

“Came by courier an hour ago,” he told me, with a knowing smile that brought some heat to my cheeks. My heart raced as I recognized the sleek black box from an exclusive lingerie boutique downtown.

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