This will make more sense if you have Read the earlier parts of Easy’s story
Susan’s legs are like jelly as she returns to the central space which connects all three offices and the boardroom, where Norah works— where she will work herself. Freed from the pressure cooker of the interview, she is suddenly overwhelmed, suddenly possessed by the need to save herself from this place, which does such powerful things to her, where every interaction feels like a new demand, a new invasion of her decency;
“Am I to take it that you have been dismissed? They don’t want you?”
“Um … no! I mean, I don’t know … um … they asked me to talk to you about … um …”
“Enough! Do you want to stay?”
“Yes … Yes, Ma’am I … I do! I really do!”
Susan/Chloë is surprised to hear herself say it. Seconds before, in her head, she had planned to leave, to escape, to walk straight out of this place which is getting to her so deeply. But when confronted with the need to actually do it, she finds she cannot.
“Well, you’ve started very badly. I doubt they told you very much in there, but I know they will have told you one rule.”
It takes Susan a few seconds to work it out. Norah expects her to curtsey— they said to curtsey on entering ANY room. Something rebels in her at the thought of doing it for hard-faced Norah— it is somehow much more demeaning, much more of an imposition. But Norah is waiting; unconcerned, but waiting.
At last, blushing, not quite sure why she hasn’t left, Susan does a fairly perfunctory version of the sexy and voluptuous wiggle she has just performed in the boardroom, and stands, waiting, skirt up, a little gawkily.
Norah keeps her waiting a long time. Long enough for irritation to build up, and for even meek Susan to begin to feel a little angry, when;
“If you did it as badly in there, Chloë, you may as well leave now. If you did it better in there, you might be in with a chance, but only if you match it or better it now, immediately.” Her voice is calm, casual, but it is clear the words are utterly sincere and serious.
Chloë/Susan blushes hotly, and this time a tear does find its way down her cheek, but she takes a deep breath and manages a fairly smooth and sultry attempt. She is trembling with shame at showing the other woman how abjectly, how sluttishly, she has performed for the partners, and suddenly realises how vulnerable she is to the other woman’s disdain, how completely in her power she will be if she works here, and she sees that satisfying the three men might perhaps be the most demanding in a physical way, but that satisfying Norah, being in her power, will be the real trial. That Norah is going to dominate her completely.
The internal struggle over this is brief, but intense. Susan/Chloë is frightened of Norah, fundamentally frightened of her, strongly aware of a great vulnerability whenever she is close. To give in now will be to accept that this frightening woman has full control over her— at least as far as work goes.
And since it seems that working at this place will be all-consuming, does the distinction even matter? The woman was in her home, has seen her naked, commented on her intimately during fittings, is going to get the Partners to spank and maybe whip her…
Oh my god this is happening…
Because the struggle is over, decided by her body, not her thoughts. She is going to work here. So that this will happen, just how it has to be, so that can be true.
And, there and then, Susan accepts within herself that she is going to allow this— that she is going to become Chloë, relaxes into that knowledge. She is here, in her dream job. And Norah is going to make sure she does it well— Norah will make the hard decisions for her.
Suddenly, she needs to know what is in Norah’s eyes, and looks up, to be trapped by that cool, merciless gaze, trembling, unable to look away, heart thudding.
After a while, the older woman smiles, amused;
“Not bad, for a beginner;” she steps forward, and immediately one cool, bony hand is on Susan/Chloë’s pussy mound, another at her buttock; Susan/Chloë freezes, just managing to overmaster her instinct to pull away. A more shocking, but equally strong impulse, is to push herself toward that hand, to get a stronger sensation still. Susan/Chloë suddenly knows that if Norah decides to seduce her, she will not be able to resist. She bites her lip, trying to get her mind back into some sort of order. Maybe it will be easier if she can become someone else— become this Chloë— let Chloë be the girl who accepts all this … all this sexual abuse— because that’s what it is.
I’m going to be sexually abused if I work here. Seriously sexually abused.
Susan is really trying, trying to wake herself out of this fever-dream. But the words do nothing to her, apart from make her feel weaker, less able to resist, lass able to even imagine resisting.
“Easy! Easy, girl! I can see we’ll have to do some work with you. I’m going to help you now, to see how to make that wiggle a little more special. Take a deep breath now, calm down, relax. Accept that many, many hands are going to take you up on the offer you so prettily made just now; it will not do to tighten up, to go tense, to flinch. Wiggle again, now, against my hands— get used to them, understand them— offer yourself to them. Remember what you said about yourself— always try to please! Again! Better— a little. Now, this time, as you lower your skirt, you are going to add a little more rotation into the movement of your hips as you bend your knee; you will let my hands guide you.”
And Susan/Chloë does her best.
“Well, you may improve, with practice.”
Chloë/Susan is in shock. She cannot believe the intimacy of the moments that have just passed. She cannot cope with the knowledge that Norah must have felt that her sex is warm— hot— and moist too. She knows, too, that she won’t be unhappy, deep down, if Norah wants to touch her again— more appalling knowledge, which she cannot begin to process. She is shaking.
“Would you like to curtsey again for me, right now? With my hands on you?”
Susan/Chloë shakes her head, “Um … no … please … please, Ma’am”; her eyes are downcast, she is breathing heavily; her breasts move delightfully. Norah lifts her chin with a finger, looks into her eyes;
“Actually, I think you would; but in fact, it doesn’t matter what you want, does it? If I were to say ‘Pussy!’, you’d have to, wouldn’t you?”
Chloë shuts her eyes, nods, trembling; “Yes … yes Ma’am”
A silence, then; “I’ve already said it, girl. Don’t ever keep me waiting. And remember, offer yourself.”
And for the sixth time in twenty minutes, Chloë/Susan is lifting her skirt— only this time it is with two firm, controlling hands at her groin, front and rear, insisting on the most obscene sort of wiggle, slow and beguiling, but at the same time, disappointingly clinical— Norah is truly trying to teach here— nothing else, apparently. Susan/Chloë doesn’t know if her heart will stand it when Norah steps back;
“And now, down again— show me you’re getting it.”
And though the tears fall, the curtsey is the most seductive yet.
“Improving, anyway— see that that continues— practice at home, in front of the mirror. Now, generally, you will never sit, while you work here but, as you’re so shaky, would you like to sit here for a little while, and have a drink of water?”
Chloë/Susan is about to gratefully accept, when a thought comes to her.
“Um … M … Ma’am. If … if … they were to … to come out, … maybe … maybe to offer me the job— they … I wouldn’t like to be … to be doing something wrong.”
“Good girl! On the other hand, maybe they would like an opportunity to spank you.”
Norah is looking directly at Chloë/Susan as the girl turns, shocked, wanting to see that this is a joke, and realising immediately that it isn’t; feeling her heart rate jump, her throat tighten, her knees start trembling again.
It seems important to say something; to register some sort of protest;
“I … I really don’t … don’t want to … to be … spanked.”
Could she have said anything weaker? It sounds as if she does want everything else! It also sounds as if she will accept that she will be spanked if they insist. She is blushing, as a small satisfied smile curls Norah’s lip;
“Well, of course you don’t, you silly girl; after all, that is rather the point, isn’t it? That it should be a punishment— something you want to avoid?”
A long pause; Susan/Chloë begins to understand that she is in quite deep already. She knows she really MUST leave, NOW! But her legs don’t move, and a fierce, burning feeling inside her tells her she will not leave, that leaving would be the worst disaster in her life.
“I … I mean … I don’t think I can … can accept … ahm, I couldn’t take being spanked.”
Norah is brisk, light, amused; “That rather remains to be seen, doesn’t it? You seem to respond well to some of the other features of employment here. Anyway, perhaps you won’t do anything wrong!”
Susan/Chloë just stares, feeling her lips tremble; she finds she has to know;
“Will … will they really … um … s … spank me?”
Norah reaches out and lifts her chin, catching her gaze;
“Will you resist them, if they want to?”
At last, Susan/Chloë’s eyes drop;
“I … I don’t know … Ma’am”.
By which they both know that she means she will not. Another possible resistance flattened. Susan/Chloë understands that she is being steamrollered, subjected to relentless pressure, that she has no defences, and has to cling on for dear life.
“No more questions now; one of the rules here is that girls in your position speak when spoken to, and not otherwise. Understand?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Very good. Your workstation is here.”
An odd looking desk, sloping, like an old-fashioned clerk’s desk, only in glass and steel, rather high, with a single tablet screen fixed to it— and instead of a chair, two narrow padded banquettes, about two feet apart angled from each other.
“You kneel on those. In other rooms, you stand, or do otherwise, if you’re told, obviously.”
Dubious, but with no other option than to obey, she kneels, thighs spread, back straight. A weird position, actually fairly comfortable, but in the short skirt, with her legs held apart she feels very vulnerable. And the glass desktop means her spread crotch is on show.
“You’ll get used to it, Chloë— and you look ravishing, I must say. If someone comes through and you’re like this, then you need to decide if they want you or not; if they want you, then stand and curtsey. If they’re not really interested in you, then you can lift your skirt while you’re kneeling. They may well ignore you— you will just keep your skirt lifted until they leave the room, or until they ask you to lower it.”
She thinks I look ravishing! was all Chloë really retained from this speech, though she knew that it was more requirements of her to humble herself.
“Now, there’s the partners calling, see those lights. You’ll need to learn them. Wait here, now. That’s right, hands at your sides, or behind your back, if you have no work to do on the screen. You should practice standing and kneeling elegantly— it takes a little care.”
And Susan (Chloë!— she must remember!) is left to consider the rollercoaster of the day. She is simultaneously elated that she has a job at ADD— even if it is only temporary— and deeply unsettled by the things she has been asked to accept— that she has accepted, as part of the price of the job.
She is ashamed and excited by the experience of curtseying— both to the partners and to Norah. She knows that she is frightened of Norah, frightened of making a mistake, of doing anything not as the partners want it, in front of her. The partners won’t notice too much, she thinks, as long as she is sexy and smiley with them, and, probably, puts up with being groped all the time. She realises she is actually looking forwards to this— other bosses have made her skin crawl, but these guys— well, somehow they deserve to do what they want with her— she finds she accepts— even welcomes— the bargain, will even be worried if they don’t feel her up, because it will be a sign they won’t keep her on. But she will have no secrets from Norah, and, as she is determined to do all she can to be kept on after the two weeks, she knows she must keep Norah happy.
She practices standing and kneeling a few times, getting the hang of it. It feels sexy— it is impossible to ignore the lewd way her thighs spread, the vulnerability of her groin when she is in position, the see-through desk. She closes her eyes. How far are they going to push her? She must try to keep a limit. Just saying this to herself makes her realise how weak her resolve is, how weak her position. What is to become of her? She begins to tremble a little.
A click, the door opens, she jumps— it is Norah, looking at her, one of the partners following. She stands as best she can, and blushing crimson, does her most sensual curtsey yet, which is taken entirely for granted. Except that, as he stands near her, talking to Norah about some arrangements for afternoon meetings, his hand languidly investigates her exposed crotch, rubbing rather pleasantly through the panties. After a second or two, Chloë (it is definitely easier if she thinks of herself as Chloë at this point) finds herself shifting slightly— opening herself up to his fingers, angling her body toward him. She is rewarded with a brief, amused smile;
“You may move your hips.”
She is being lewdly felt up by her new employer, in front of her boss! She is holding her skirt up to let it happen, and now, at his request, she is moving to maximise the effect of his lazy, proprietorial gropings. She is ready to die of shame. But the other two remain completely calm.
It is then that Chloë realises that her skin crawls just as much now as it had with other men, only this time the crawly feeling goes right to her pussy, right to her heart, both of which begin to surge, in their different ways.
After a minute or so, the Partner (D1), walks off, without even looking at Chloë, and Norah nods at her;
“You may drop your skirt. You behaved appropriately. Now; the good news is that you’ve got the temporary appointment— if you still want it?”
Chloë is distracted, still trying to come to terms with what has just happened, but she finds herself needing to let Norah know how much she wants the job;
“Yes! Oh, yes, I … I really do. Thank you!”
“The bad news is that an important client is in town tomorrow, and the escort we had booked to accompany him to dinner and the theatre has cancelled— she’s still in LA with another client. But that’s not your problem.”
“Now, pretty, listen well; the terms of the position are very simple. We offer a daily rolling contract, that is all. Your job description is also simple: try to give satisfaction to everyone you encounter here at ADD. Pretty smiles, lovely presentation, elegant and attractive deportment, perfect politeness, instant and willing obedience are required at all times— and by everyone we mean everyone. Any failure to give complete satisfaction could mean instant dismissal, with a maximum one day’s pay in hand. Remember— there is no-one less important than you— you are to seek to please everyone you encounter, put what they want above what you want. If a delivery messenger complains about you not thanking him nicely; if the window cleaner complains, saying you didn’t smile at him, you will be liable for dismissal, or disciplinary action. Do you understand?”
“Um … yes— I … I think so.”
“Yes, Ma’am, will be enough, thank you! Very well. Each morning you will be here at 6:50 am, to present yourself to me. If they have asked me to give you a further day’s work, I will inspect your presentation. Poor presentation will result in you being sent home. You will not be paid for that day, even if you are asked to return the following day.”
“Do you understand? Do you accept?”
“Yes … Yes, Ma’am.”
“Good. Obviously there are various details, but we can arrange those later. Most important, though, is the matter of your dress. You did well with my advice, but our standards here are very high, and the partners have made some specific requests after seeing you this morning. We’ll be going shopping again this evening.”
“But first—” Norah pauses, assessing Chloë closely— “We need to finish your initiation here—”
Chloë swallows hard, suddenly aware that there will be more, much more, expected of her. Imposed upon her, since she has made herself so powerless.
After signing several very thick wedges of papers, which Norah refuses her time to even skim read (Just standard contracts, girl, nothing to bother your little head about,) the next hour is spent reviewing the office systems that Chloë/Susan will be expected to interact with— a simplified set, which she is told she will not really understand. She had assumed that she would be given simple duties only, but the actual list is humiliatingly basic. She will have nothing— almost nothing— to do. She has almost no access to anything.
“Your main job is to look tempting, and pleasing, and very easily available. Can you manage that, do you think?”
““Yes, yes, of course, Ma’am.”
“Good girl, now keep quiet and don’t bother me.”
“Review everything in your head, and make a very simple bullet list of the requirements you believe you need to meet. I’ll ask for them in a little while, so get a complete set ready within the hour. If I don’t call you, continue to make improvements.”
After some thinking, the requirements Chloë comes up with are:
- I must always look perfect, decorative— hair, makeup, clothes, posture, expression
- I must be eager to please and exceptionally willing to serve, willing, tolerant and accommodating.
- I must be available— Arrive very early, be prepared to work very late— my personal plans must not interfere with work, ready to accompany staff members on trips, and to dine with and entertain clients
She had forgotten the curtseying! What else had she missed— she would have to go back through everything across the day and not miss a thing. The next things she came up with were:
- I must always present herself elegantly when entering or leaving a room— including the correct curtsey, including a wiggle as I lower my skirt hem. If anyone says ‘Pussy’ to me, I must immediately do a full curtsey. If I’m at my desk and someone passes through, it may be acceptable to lift my skirt while kneeling.
- I will answer to the name Chloë
- I must never sit unless explicitly told to.
Was there anything else? She racked her brains— went back through the whole day, every conversation, to make sure. She found another one:
- Never initiate anything— await instructions
Norah appeared from behind her, silent, and Chloë, shocked, stumbled as she scrambled to her feet to curtsey, failing point one of her list at the first asking, finding the shaming business of lifting her skirts suddenly terribly, horribly unacceptable to her, but doing it anyway, doing it with a desperate, weak smile, feeling shame eat into her.
Norah, frowns, sighs, taps her nails against the glass desk, looks at Chloë;
“I can see your list— I have access to everything you do, of course. It’s not terrible, but you have forgotten several important things, and its both poorly structured and poorly worded. Review your memory— make sure to go through everything the Partners and I said to you— every suggestion or comment should be taken— by you— as a cast iron rule. There is at least one key thing you have missed.”
“Try, now. You are always on probation here, you must understand. If I pick up this handset now, and tell A. that I have found you unsatisfactory, you’re gone, with a debt of— hmm, $1,262.50.”
Chloë’s breath catches—the precision of that number terrifies her more than any threat. She scrambles through mental replays of the interview, fingers twitching against her thighs. Then it strikes her like a cane across knuckles—an obvious omission. Her voice wavers:
“Sir—Sirs— asked … asked about boyfriends, nights out with friends… should … should that mean that I have a rule not … not to have a boyfriend?”
“Very definitely. And no unauthorised nights out, either… Add them to your list— refinements of the availability rule…”
Norah leans forward, plucking Chloë’s trembling fingers from the tablet screen. “Ah-ah.” She produces a stylus—slim, silver, cold—and presses it into Chloë’s palm. “We don’t touch displays with bare hands here. Leaves marks.”
Chloë nods eagerly, grasping the stylus like a lifeline.
“I am afraid, Chloë, that though you have presumably tried your poor best, you have still missed a key point, and several smaller ones. This is exactly why you were not offered the post on a permanent basis— clearly a low-grade intellect. We’ll have to register a punishment mark against you.”
“You have forgotten that they told you that I would be in charge of selecting your clothes. And— a sub-point— I told you earlier that as regards clothes ‘structure’ was very important to them.”
“Also, at your first interview, with regard to your breasts and nipples, what did I tell you?”
“That … that the Partners do not hold with bras, for young women.”
“And that was part of a general point, wasn’t it?”
Norah is relentless;
“Ah … um…” Chloë’s mind is a blank.
“That a girl must present her assets well for the Partners. Remember now?”
“Oh! … oh … yes.”
“Further, as a special point, I told you, in the taxi, that you are to keep your thighs parted on work time, did I not?”
“Oh yes! Yes, Ma’am, Sorry ma’am.”
“Again— and you might as well add this little point, since you seem incapable of remembering it— not matter how wittery it might be inside your head, say the least possible. Yes, Ma’am, Sorry Ma’am would have sufficed just now, for instance; four words instead of six. There was the other point, too, from your first visit here— about not trying to think for your self, but rather to answer directly when required to. That can be a sub-point.”
Norah smiles at Chloë, whose lips are trembling, eyelids fluttering as she hold back tears;
“Never mind, dear; you’ve only just started. That’s why we’re doing this, to give you a strong framework of rules, to give you half a chance of being not truly awful at the job, and getting sent home after a couple of days.”
“You did ask me— in the taxi— to help you to perform as well as is possible for a girl with your weaknesses. Am I overdoing it? Being too demanding of you, pretty Chloë?”
Chloë feels panic rising— this is a test, she sees it (Norah is not making it hard for her to understand this, with her sneering smile);
“No, Ma’am. Not at all Ma’am. Thank you Ma’am.”
“Very well. Obviously, if your answer had been anything else, you’d be on your way already. Never underestimate how weak your hold is on this position, Chloë. There is little point in me training you like this if you’re not going to be here for a few days at least, and I will run out of patience quickly if you do not learn quickly. Additionally, you should try to demonstrate extreme willingness to please, to try to make up for your absent competence. On your own time, try— try hard, pretty— to think of simple ways in which you feel confident you might please the Partners. If they are costly for you, too— so that your sacrifice or effort can be seen to have been large, that might be helpful.”
“Yes, you might as well add that as a rule.”
“Finally, try to structure your thinking— just because you thought of something first doesn’t mean it has to be first in the list. Here’s a starter for ten; you need to break out deportment from appearance— there are several deportment points— curtseying, sitting, thighs— they should be grouped.”
“Now, have another go at your list— start again, and try to get it right, this time. Then I will need to hear, what you have decided? Are we to ask the partners to implement strict physical punishment for you in regard of all these rules?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” is all Chloë can say.
Trembling, she starts a new list, trying to remember everything Norah had said, working hard to clear her head and do a better job this time. Determined to take herself in hand and deliver.
It takes some deep breathing and use of some silly self-help mantras, but she does manage to achieve some concentration, and gets on with the job.
- Timing and availability. Overall, I must aim to give the impression that this work is my life.
- I must arrive at the latest at 6:50 am.
- I must be prepared to stay each evening until I am dismissed.
- I must be available to accompany staff on trips away.
- I must be available to dine with and entertain clients.
- I must not take a boyfriend.
- I must not go out for social events without permission.
- Presentation. I must look tempting, pleasing, and very easily available at all times.
- Norah will specify all items of my presentation: clothes, hair, makeup, nails, shoes.
- It is my responsibility always to look perfect and decorative.
- I must ensure that the elements of structure preferred by the Partners are in place: tight corselette, hold-up stockings, high-heels.
- I must not wear a bra.
- Deportment. I must always present myself elegantly.
- Curtseying: I must always, when entering or leaving a room, perform a full curtsey, showing my panties:
- I must keep my skirt up until given permission to lower it.
- I must include a wiggle as I lower my skirt hem.
- If anyone says ‘Pussy’ to me, I must immediately perform a full curtsey.
- If I’m at my desk and someone passes through without looking at me, it may be acceptable to curtsey while kneeling.
- I must never sit unless explicitly instructed.
- I must kneel when at my desk.
- I must present my assets attractively for the partners at all times:
- open cleavage,
- stiff nipples,
- thighs parted.
- Curtseying: I must always, when entering or leaving a room, perform a full curtsey, showing my panties:
- Performance. I must be willing, tolerant and accommodating in all respects.
- I must immediately obedient to any request from anyone— give the impression that I live to please the Partners.
- I must not, when given an order or request, spend time thinking my own thoughts, but rather quickly and efficiently do what has been asked of me.
- I should expect and must respond well to intimate touching when I curtsey.
- While not busy, I must think of ways to please the Partners. These should be low risk. If they are costly for me, this may be beneficial.
- Behaviour. I must always be aware that the slightest failure on my part could result in my instant dismissal.
- I must not speak unless required to.
- I must give the shortest practical answer to any questions.
- I must use ‘Sir’ and ‘Ma’am’, not names.
- I must answer to Chloë.
- I must not touch screens, but always use a stylus.
When Chloë has got this far, she looks, under her lashes, at Norah, who is involved in a very detailed ‘phone conversation.
Her heart pounding already at the explicitly sexual and degrading nature of some the rules she has to live by if she is to hold this job, Chloë decides to try to do something you feel confident about and costly for me, to please the Partners. She writes a new section of the rules:
- Training. I must take all opportunities to improve my ability to serve the Partners.
- I must attend classes in subjects chosen by Norah to improve my ability to perform my duties.
- I must submit to physical punishment to incentivise rapid improvement in the performance of my duties.
- I must accept spanking, the dog whip or riding crop, as decided by the firm, as punishment for even the smallest failures.
It is hard not to look at the list of rules and not feel very jittery indeed; Chloë feels her throat closing up, finds it hard to breathe. On the other hand, it is also true that Susan (No! Chloë) cannot help but feel proud of the list, typed up so neatly, and all— all— about her.
Special rules for me, Because I work here, and— and Norah told me last time— the Partners care about detail— so that must mean even a tiny detail like me.
I really am doing this, then?
It seemed that she was, and, alongside this realisation, something changed, right there, between her legs, in her pussy. She feels it. A sort of decisive loosening, a relaxation, a giving up of control, almost formal. Stranger’s hands are going to be touching me there, often, now, and I have to be ‘very easily available at all times’.
It was a squirmy feeling, to be so aware of being open, down there, but it was kind of cool, too.
If I was out there, it would be a slutty thing. And .. and I guess it’s a slutty thing here, too, only .. only no-one but rich and important people get to come here, and .. and that makes it different .. somehow.
The squirmy feeling was very strong then, almost frightening, and her hips surged under the see-through desk, but she made herself smile, and quite soon it was more of a breathless, fluttery feeling, higher in her chest, and she almost giggled at the sensation, even though, in the back of her mind, she knew she was giving too much away, too easily; that she would find it hard to get anything back, at all, ever.
The easiest thing turned out to be to tell herself; it’s too late now, anyway. I signed all those contracts. without reading them. They probably own my pussy now, anyway,
That was a squirmy feeling, too.
