Page 1 of His to Enjoy
CHAPTER 1
Grace
“You have to understand, Grace,” said the kind-faced woman at Selecta Solutions, “that it has nothing to do with you, or your worth as a wife, let alone as a person. This was unfortunately our fault—well, NMB’s fault. As you know, we keep very close watch on our NMB couples, but this slipped through the cracks at the assessment level. We should have caught Jacob’s tendency to shirk his responsibilities.”
N. M. B. New Modesty Blue.The division of the Selecta Corporation that had made money by streaming the most intimate, embarrassing moments of my marriage.
The ones where I got spanked. The ones where the husband—the gorgeous, dominant man who had just, it seemed, left me—used me for his pleasure exactly as he chose.
The ones where I helplessly demonstrated that I loved being used that way. I had stopped loving Jacob, at some point, but I had never stopped getting wet at the feeling of his hands on my body, controlling me—draping me across his knee orbending me over the bed. Or the feeling of his hardness inside me, demonstrating his mastery and my obedience as wealthy men, I knew very well, enjoyed watching me submit from the comfort of their mansions, or planes, or whatever billionaire accommodations they happened to occupy at that moment.
Any given moment when my husband had decided to punish and fuck me in front of the ever-present NMB cameras, for the vicarious enjoyment of the channel’s subscribers.
I couldn’t look at the woman—Mrs. Chen, said the nameplate on her desk. My face had gotten hot and, I felt certain, very red. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for. For crying in her office? For the failure of my marriage? For the shameful way my body still responded to memories of Jacob’s dominance even now, when he had abandoned me for another woman?
Mrs. Chen’s voice softened. “Grace, you have nothing to apologize for. The fault lies entirely with our screening process. As I said, we failed to identify Jacob’s… character deficiencies during the initial assessment phase.”
I finally managed to look up at her, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. “What happens to me now?” The question came out smaller than I’d intended, like a child asking what would become of her after her parents had decided they no longer wanted her.
“That’s why I asked you to come in today.” Mrs. Chen opened a folder on her desk, her movements precise and businesslike despite the gentleness in her tone. “Selecta takesfull responsibility for this situation. We have several options available to you.”
My hands trembled slightly in my lap. Everything I had known, everything I had built my identity around for the past two years, had crumbled in the space of a single phone call from Jacob. He hadn’t even had the courtesy to tell me in person that he was leaving me for his secretary—a woman who, he’d informed me with clinical detachment, “better understood his needs.”
“The first option,” Mrs. Chen continued, “is financial compensation. A settlement that would allow you to start fresh, completely independent of the New Modesty program.”
Independent. The word sent a chill through me. I had never been independent, not really. I had gone from my father’s house to the New Modesty program to Jacob’s control. The thought of navigating the world entirely on my own felt both terrifying and oddly thrilling.
“Another option,” Mrs. Chen said, her fingers moving to another section of the folder, “would be to re-enter the courtship program. We have several highly suitable candidates who are looking for wives with your experience and training.”
A restless energy coursed through me at those words. The thought of going through it all again—the careful presentation of myself to another man, the evaluation period, the slow dance of submission and acceptance—made something inside me want to pace the small office. I shifted in my chair, my hands clenching and unclenching in my lap.
“And,” Mrs. Chen continued, studying my face with what seemed like professional interest, “there is a third option. Onethat might be particularly well suited to you, given your test scores when you first entered the New Modesty program.”
My restlessness stilled. “My test scores?”
“You demonstrated exceptionally high aptitude in analytical thinking and problem-solving. Far above average, actually.” She pulled out what looked like a standardized test report. “Have you ever heard of Selecta’s business education program?”
My heart began to beat faster, though I tried to keep my expression neutral. A business education program. Something that had nothing to do with marriage or courtship or presenting myself for another man’s approval.
“The biz ed program would require you to submit to a rigorous interview process,” Mrs. Chen said, her eyes never leaving my face. “It’s quite intensive.”
I swallowed, hoping she couldn’t see how the mention of a rigorous interview had made my pulse quicken. There was something about the word ‘rigorous’ that sent an unwelcome flutter through my stomach—a response I recognized all too well from my two years with Jacob. “What… what would the interview involve?”
Mrs. Chen’s smile was knowing, almost maternal. “I’m quite confident you would pass, Grace. The interview process is designed to ensure that all female candidates fully understand Selecta’s traditional corporate culture and, most important, the prominent role that corporal punishment plays in maintaining proper workplace discipline and hierarchy.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. My breath caught, and I felt that familiar heat spreading through my body—the same shameful response I’d had to Jacob’s dominance, now triggeredby the mere mention of corporate corporal punishment. I pressed my thighs together under the desk, praying Mrs. Chen wouldn’t notice the way my breathing had changed.
“The business world can be quite demanding,” she continued, her tone still professional, but with an undertone I couldn’t quite identify. “Selecta believes that women in corporate positions must demonstrate their ability to accept correction gracefully and learn from structured feedback.”
“If I don’t pass the interview,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper, “could I still take the financial settlement instead?”
Mrs. Chen’s expression brightened, as if I’d asked exactly the right question. “That seems like a very smart approach to me, Grace. You have nothing to lose by trying. In fact, Selecta will even cover your housing while you do your first internship.”
The relief that washed over me was immediate and overwhelming. I had an escape route. Whatever this interview process entailed, I wouldn’t be trapped if I couldn’t handle it.
Three days later, I found myself standing outside an office door on the fifteenth floor of the Selecta building, my palms damp with nervous perspiration. The nameplate read ‘Sharon Fagan, Director of Education.’
