Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

I ngrid

I remained kneeling on the plush red carpet, terribly conscious of my nakedness and the bruises on my backside. My cheeks burned with shame as I watched the junior executives zip up their pants. In my mind's eye I could see the smug, fraternal grins on their handsome faces: vivid evidence of my degradation.

I felt Joseph towering over me, his piercing blue eyes seeming to stare through the back of my head into my soul. As Kevin, Martin, and Louis filed out of the office I cringed under Joseph's gaze, certain he would punish me for refusing to obey instantly, to kneel and kiss the penises of the men of his team the moment he had commanded it.

He came around to my front. He didn't have the paddle in his hand, and his fly remained closed. I blinked in confusion, not raising my eyes but instead lowering them to the mirror shine of his black shoes.

"You may look me in the eye, Ingrid," he said. His tone of voice sounded different to me from any way he had spoken to me yet. I heard what I thought might be warmth, alongside the ever-present authority. Then I instantly told myself I must have imagined it.

In any case, the may he had used left me in confusion. Heat bloomed anew in my face. At that moment, though part of me longed to see his handsome face, I didn't want to look up, out of embarrassment at my kneeling and my nakedness.

The spark of my independence tried to persuade the rest of my mind that I hadn't had any choice, but the truth of the compliance wand's operation made a mockery of the idea: part of me, a part that seemed only to grow in importance, had wanted to do precisely what Joseph told me to do, no matter how shameful. I had wanted to kiss their rigid penises, even wanted to suck Louis', just like the little slut they had called me.

"Do I have to, sir?" I asked, trying to find some potential for resistance in this tiny, very slightly defiant question.

"No, sweetheart," Joseph said. "You don't have to."

He must have known it would make me look up. I thought I could even hear it in his words, their tone slightly amused and at the same time, again… warm . I hadn't imagined it. What did it mean ?

I raised my eyes. Joseph Alden, my…

My master . I couldn't help it. Boss just didn't describe how his height, his bearing, above all his gorgeous eyes affected me.

To my amazement, Joseph extended a hand and asked, "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

I gaped up at him, confusion warring with the urge to obey his every whim—and I couldn't even tell if that urge came from the wand's influence coursing through my nerves, compelling me to submit to his will. Terrifying device of absolute dominance or not, though, some innocent part of me felt simply curious about what Joseph had in mind, as if I could think of him as an ordinary kind of man, casually asking me out.

"It's not compulsory," he said, noting my hesitation. "I simply wish to treat you to an elegant evening. You may get dressed, by the way."

I told myself it had to be the wand. I leaned on that idea as I grasped his outstretched hand. He pulled me to my feet, and I turned to go back and fetch my clothes.

My skirt fluttered down around my thighs to conceal my shame: my bare pussy and my paddled bottom. I could to my mortification feel my arousal down there, slickness coating my inner folds so thoroughly it had seeped onto my thighs. I averted my eyes, cheeks flaring anew at the evidence of my lewd excitement.

Joseph let me finish dressing in silence. I felt grateful despite myself—in that same absurd way I'd started to get used to—that he let me face away from him, toward his desk, as I did my best to put my clothing in order. I wanted at the same time to make certain I showed no sign of how completely subjugated by Joseph I felt and to ensure that he could see that, deep down, I didn't want any of this—let alone need it.

"Turn around," he said, when I stopped smoothing and primping.

I felt the wand's effect at work, cutting through the conflict inside me, deciding the matter for me. I turned to face him.

"I believe I issued an invitation, Ingrid. Would you care to respond?"

My eyes widened a bit. I searched my mind and my body for the wand's influence and didn't find a trace of it. Joseph hadn't given me an order; as he said, he had merely invited me to dinner, and he had even told me my acceptance wasn't compulsory.

I realized I had started to chew on my lower lip as I searched his handsome face for some sign of… something. I didn't know what, really. Maybe the warmth I had heard in his voice. All I got for an impression of what lay behind his piercing gaze was a cool, inquisitive interest in how I would respond.

"Yes," I said. "I'd… I'd like that."

He smiled, and the conflict inside me raged higher as the mere sight of his firm mouth turned up that way brought a glow to my chest.

"Remember to change your bra," he told me, instantly making the battle inside me even fiercer. "I'll pick you up at your apartment at seven. Tell Cathy I said you could leave early to get ready."

Joseph came to get me in a limo. I had never ridden in one before, and when I saw it at the curb in front of my building it didn't even occur to me that my new boss was inside until he rolled down the window and called my name.

"Ingrid," I heard from the general direction of the sleek, black town car. I turned to see Joseph looking at me, a smile on his face that made my heart skip a beat.

The limo driver stepped out and opened the door. Joseph moved over on the long bench seat. I felt like I might faint before I got to the car, but I took the six or seven steps without stumbling, murmured a reflexive thank you to the driver, and managed to get in.

"You look lovely," Joseph said, very simply but with an evident sincerity that brought butterflies to my tummy.

"Thanks," I whispered. I had chosen my one nice dress—little and black, of course. I had managed on my way home not to notice my lack of panties to the same extent as in the morning, and with the help of my nervous excitement I had pushed it away as I got dressed.

Here in the limo, though, sitting next to Joseph, I became terribly conscious of my nakedness under the thin wool lap of my skirt. I turned toward Joseph, but I sat like a schoolgirl, knees together and hands folded atop my thighs to make certain I didn't expose myself.

"Saint L'O is five minutes away, if that," he told me with a little chuckle. "So don't get too comfortable."

"Saint L'O?" I asked, eyes going wide.

"You've never eaten there, I'm guessing?" Joseph asked.

His smile made me laugh, because he so obviously knew the answer to the question.

"The best restaurant in the city?" I countered. "No, I…" I hesitated for a moment, not sure if I could follow through on the slightly sassy remark that had come to mind. For a millisecond I felt I stood on a knife's edge, that I had the chance to decide in this utterly trivial moment what kind of person I would be, going forward.

I wanted the sassiness. I wanted the naughtiness.

I wanted to make my boss, my master, exert his dominance, play his shameful game. He held the trump cards: he had the paddle and the compliance wand. Maybe his victory was inevitable. But though that thought made my heart race with fear of the consequences, I could already tell that the ‘fun' lay in the struggle.

"I've never had the time, frankly," I said, putting on a la-di-da kind of voice.

To my gratified surprise, Joseph burst out laughing. Then two things happened in a confusing blur. The limo slowed to a stop, and I could see the iconic sign for Saint L'O, which I'd walked by many, many times, wondering if I would ever get to eat there. And Joseph took hold of my face, turned it away from the window and toward him, and, putting his other hand on the back of my neck so that I whimpered up into his mouth, he kissed me, very hard and very long.

When he finally broke the kiss, he looked into my eyes deeply and without speaking, as if trying to decide something. Then, abruptly, the driver opened the door, and Joseph let go of my face. I turned and took the offered hand to climb out of the limo.

My lips still felt strange, bruised even, as Joseph led me into the gorgeous dining room. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over white linen tablecloths and gilded place settings. The ambient chatter was punctuated by the delicate clink of silverware and wineglasses.

Joseph nodded to the ma?tre d', as if they knew each other so well that words of welcome weren't required. He guided me to a secluded table, pulling out my chair before taking his seat across from me. The spell cast by the kiss in the limo seemed to hover around both of us, and my whole body felt hot as my boss' gaze raked over my body.

"Yes," he said, making me realize neither of us had spoken a word since the kiss. "You look very lovely indeed tonight, Ingrid."

I felt my brow crease hard, and I swallowed. I tried to stop the impulse, but I couldn't help it; I shifted in my seat, victim of a perverse-feeling urge, to remind myself of what had befallen me down there, all because of the man sitting across from me. The feeling of soreness, of bareness, and above all of helpless need nearly made me sob.

The smile on Joseph's face told me had caught every millimeter of my body's movement, and understood it perfectly. I felt my mouth twist to the side in frustration. If I wanted to play the game, I definitely needed to show more defiance.

"Thanks," I said, trying to keep my voice entirely neutral. "You already said that."

His eyebrows went up, and then his eyes narrowed. I felt my pulse quicken at this slight indication of displeasure. He seemed about to say something sharp, but the waiter's arrival interrupted our conversation, such as it was.

Joseph looked up at the man in the spotless white jacket. "The chef's tasting menu, for two," he said before the waiter could say anything.

"Ah," the man replied. "With the wine pairings?"

"Of course," Joseph said with a smile.

I hardly even knew what a tasting menu was, or what it meant to have wine pairings with it.

"Very good, sir," the waiter said. He glided away toward the kitchen.

Joseph turned back toward me, his face serene, as if the warning expression of a few moments before had never been there at all.

"I think," he said, "we should get to know each other a little better."

My lips parted. I blinked in what probably looked like comic-book level surprise. Joseph continued as if he hadn't just changed, well, not really the subject as much as the game itself.

"Did you grow up in this area?" he asked. "I grew up on the East Coast, so when Selecta moved me here ten years ago it took a while to get used to."