Author: | Joy C. James | ISBN: | 9781497755666 |
Publisher: | Joy C. James | Publication: | February 3, 2014 |
Imprint: | Language: | English |
Author: | Joy C. James |
ISBN: | 9781497755666 |
Publisher: | Joy C. James |
Publication: | February 3, 2014 |
Imprint: | |
Language: | English |
In this 5,000-word erotic short story, Ivy Rose is an idealistic young woman who has joined the political campaign of would-be mayor Ms. Sinclair. Quickly proving herself, Ivy finds herself in the vaunted position of Ms. Sinclair's personal assistant. Ivy discovers, however, that being Ms. Sinclair's assistant is a much more erotic, submissive - and arousing - role than she had ever imagined. Mature audiences only.
-EXCERPT-
“Well, here goes nothing, Ivy,” she said to her reflection. “If you get through this day, everything else will be a cakewalk.”
She walked to the bathroom door, opened it, and froze immediately, her jaw dropping as she saw Ms. Sinclair. It wasn't the Ms. Sinclair she knew, though, in her professional suits, looking like the ideal politician. Prim and proper. Devoted to her job. Her hair was no longer flowing around her shoulders, but was instead pulled back tight, giving Ms. Sinclair a severe look.
“Excellent, Ivy,” Ms. Sinclair said, her voice having taken on a hint of deviance. “You're ready just in time.”
The rest of her outfit was no less shocking. More, perhaps. No, more definitely. It was black and tight, lace and leather. She wore black stockings, stiletto heels, black lingerie. She was even taller in the heels, towering over Ivy even more so than she usually did. And within her long-fingered hands was a long black whip, which she was playing with idly.
Ivy's eyes widened, her jaw agape, “Um. Ms. Sinclair?”
“What is it, Ivy?” Ms. Sinclair said, with a little smirk. She knew exactly what Ivy was perturbed about.
“I... I'm afraid I'm not sure I understand, ma'am,” Ivy managed to get out. “What... what is this?”
“It's exactly what it looks like, Ivy,” Ms. Sinclair explained simply. “I need you to be ready for daily disciplining. We'll be starting with whipping, and will move on to further measures as they become necessary. For now, though, I merely need you to face the far wall, and place your hands against it.”
“M-my daily disciplining?” Ivy stammered.
“To ensure that you always remember your place as my assistant, and your duty to serve me in every way I require,” Ms. Sinclair continued. “You've already proven yourself capable of filling this position, but now I need to be certain that I can mold you to my liking. Now face the far wall, and place your hands against it.”
Ivy swallowed, her throat tight, her breath sharp, “This is... this is why nobody ever met your expectations before?”
“Correct,” Ms. Sinclair replied, clearly feeling indulgent. “None have met my criteria. Except for you. You're beautiful, you're intelligent, you're responsive and dutiful. And most important of all, you need a cause to serve. An ideal to submit to. A mistress to worship. You're perfect.”
In this 5,000-word erotic short story, Ivy Rose is an idealistic young woman who has joined the political campaign of would-be mayor Ms. Sinclair. Quickly proving herself, Ivy finds herself in the vaunted position of Ms. Sinclair's personal assistant. Ivy discovers, however, that being Ms. Sinclair's assistant is a much more erotic, submissive - and arousing - role than she had ever imagined. Mature audiences only.
-EXCERPT-
“Well, here goes nothing, Ivy,” she said to her reflection. “If you get through this day, everything else will be a cakewalk.”
She walked to the bathroom door, opened it, and froze immediately, her jaw dropping as she saw Ms. Sinclair. It wasn't the Ms. Sinclair she knew, though, in her professional suits, looking like the ideal politician. Prim and proper. Devoted to her job. Her hair was no longer flowing around her shoulders, but was instead pulled back tight, giving Ms. Sinclair a severe look.
“Excellent, Ivy,” Ms. Sinclair said, her voice having taken on a hint of deviance. “You're ready just in time.”
The rest of her outfit was no less shocking. More, perhaps. No, more definitely. It was black and tight, lace and leather. She wore black stockings, stiletto heels, black lingerie. She was even taller in the heels, towering over Ivy even more so than she usually did. And within her long-fingered hands was a long black whip, which she was playing with idly.
Ivy's eyes widened, her jaw agape, “Um. Ms. Sinclair?”
“What is it, Ivy?” Ms. Sinclair said, with a little smirk. She knew exactly what Ivy was perturbed about.
“I... I'm afraid I'm not sure I understand, ma'am,” Ivy managed to get out. “What... what is this?”
“It's exactly what it looks like, Ivy,” Ms. Sinclair explained simply. “I need you to be ready for daily disciplining. We'll be starting with whipping, and will move on to further measures as they become necessary. For now, though, I merely need you to face the far wall, and place your hands against it.”
“M-my daily disciplining?” Ivy stammered.
“To ensure that you always remember your place as my assistant, and your duty to serve me in every way I require,” Ms. Sinclair continued. “You've already proven yourself capable of filling this position, but now I need to be certain that I can mold you to my liking. Now face the far wall, and place your hands against it.”
Ivy swallowed, her throat tight, her breath sharp, “This is... this is why nobody ever met your expectations before?”
“Correct,” Ms. Sinclair replied, clearly feeling indulgent. “None have met my criteria. Except for you. You're beautiful, you're intelligent, you're responsive and dutiful. And most important of all, you need a cause to serve. An ideal to submit to. A mistress to worship. You're perfect.”