Page 42 of His to Enjoy
Her office featured clean lines and modern art, with a view that rivaled Scott’s. She gestured to a chair across from her sleek glass desk, but before I could sit, she held up a hand.
“Actually, let me show you what I’m working on first. It’s the next segment of Leah’s story—something that hasn’t been released yet.”
She turned her monitor toward me, and I remained standing as the video began. Leah was in what looked like a punishment room, bent over a padded bench with her wrists secured to the legs. Brian stood behind her with a wooden paddle, his expression stern.
“You spoke back to me at dinner,” he said on screen. “In front of my colleagues. That kind of disrespect requires serious correction.”
The first strike of the paddle made me flinch. Leah’s scream was raw, desperate. Brian didn’t pause, delivering stroke after stroke with mechanical precision while Leah sobbed and begged. After twenty strokes, her bottom was deep red, almost purple in places.
“Please, sir, I’m sorry!” Leah wailed. “I’ll never disrespect you again!”
“I know you won’t,” Brian said calmly, setting the paddle aside. “Because we’re not finished.”
My breath caught as he produced something from a drawer—a massive black plug, easily twice the size of anything I’d seen inthe previous videos. Leah’s eyes went wide with terror when she saw it.
“No, please, it’s too big!” she begged, pulling uselessly at her restraints.
“You’ll take it,” Brian said simply, coating it with lubricant. “And you’ll wear it for the rest of the day to remember your place.”
I watched, transfixed, as he worked the enormous plug into Leah’s tiny bottom. Her screams echoed through Melissa’s office as he pushed relentlessly, stretching her impossibly wide. When it finally seated fully, the base nestled between her punished cheeks, Leah had gone limp, whimpering softly.
Melissa paused the video suddenly, and I became aware that I was breathing hard, my thighs pressed together beneath my dress. She stood from her desk with fluid grace, moving around to stand directly in front of me.
“You’re aroused,” she observed, not a question but a statement of fact. “Scott mentioned you respond strongly to anal punishment scenes.”
My face burned. “I… Ms. Mitropoulos, I don’t think?—”
“Melissa,” she corrected, her fingers coming up to trace my jawline. “And I think you respond to authority in general. Female authority as much as male. Kneel.”
The command was delivered so casually, so confidently, that I found myself dropping to my knees before I could even process the decision. The gray dress rode up my thighs as I knelt on her plush carpet, looking up at her with wide eyes.
Melissa’s forefinger came under my chin, lifting my face a millimeter further.
“I’ll tell you a secret,” she said softly, “which won’t be so secret once I raise my skirt and you show me the proper respect with that sweet little tongue of yours. I’m highly aroused too.”
CHAPTER 22
Scott
Grace had become a bit of an obsession for me, I had to admit. I made time in my schedule to watch her first meeting with Melissa live, over the excellent video surveillance that pervaded Selecta’s headquarters building.
I watched through the concealed camera in Melissa’s office as Grace dropped to her knees with that delicious mix of shock and submission that had first captured my attention. The way her gray dress’s disarrangement on her thighs revealed the lace tops of her stockings made my cock stir despite having thoroughly used her just hours before.
Melissa was masterful—or mistressful, I supposed. Her work developingHer Secret Gardenhad proven that beyond the shadow of a doubt, precisely because she understood female submission from both sides of the dynamic. Now, watching her tower over my sweet intern, I felt a surge of satisfaction at how perfectly the situation had begun to unfold.
“Go ahead, Grace,” Melissa commanded softly, and I leaned closer to my monitor as she lifted her pencil skirt slowly, revealing red lace panties that were indeed visibly damp, framed by a garter belt and black stockings. “Show me you understand that submission isn’t just about serving men.”
I could see Grace’s hands trembling as they reached for Melissa’s hips. The camera angle gave me a perfect view of her face—the conflict written across her features, the way she bit her lower lip before leaning forward. When she hooked her fingers into Melissa’s panties and began pulling them down, I had to adjust myself in my chair.
This was exactly what Grace needed. Not just my dominance, but a complete restructuring of her understanding of hierarchy and submission. Melissa would push boundaries I couldn’t, would access parts of Grace’s psyche that required a woman’s touch to unlock.
I picked up my handheld, only letting my eyes drift from the screen for a second, and tapped out a message to Van.
You have a moment to look at Grace’s data stream?
When I refocused on my screen, my cock gave a leap along my thigh at the sight of the sweet girl pressing her face between Melissa’s thighs, her inexperience evident in the tentative movements of her tongue over her new colleague’s bare pussy lips. Melissa’s hand tangled in Grace’s hair, guiding her with patient authority despite the hard dominance I could read in her eyes.
“That’s it,” Melissa murmured, her professional composure cracking slightly as Grace found her rhythm. “Scott trained youwell to the cock. Now it’s time for you to be broken to serving another girl’s cunt.”
