Read Online The Art of Submissive Survival - Book Two in The Perfect Submissive Trilogy by Kay Jaybee - Free Book Online
Authors: Kay Jaybee
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tells me you successfully helped her to entertain a client yesterday; a guest who has not always taken kindly to a change from her usual routine. I also hear that you are adjusting to your new exercise schedule.’ Mrs Peters spoke with such lack of expression that Jess wasn’t sure if she was being complimented, chastised, or if the manageress was merely making an observation. ‘I have a very important visitor due here tonight, Miss Sanders, and I intend for him to meet you.’
The butterflies that seemed to live in Jess’s stomach these days began to flutter as she listened.
‘The outcome of this evening will determine many things about the future direction of life on the fifth floor, including your own. Much has been made of your natural submission and I think the reality of that has begun to sink in with you. The question is, are you good enough to stay on my staff? Do you have what it takes? I did wonder if I’d have to ask if you wanted to stay, but from the evidence of Miss Sarah, from Lee, and from the recordings I have made of you, I am convinced that you have already crossed the point of no return. So the real question is will I let you stay?
An unexpected panic gripped Jess. It hadn’t occurred to her that she might not be allowed to stay. She was further disconcerted by the knowledge of what that panic meant. And, on top of that, she wondered just how many recordings had been made of her since she arrived. All the secret but necessary sessions she’d had in the Ladies, the conversation with Lee in the staff room, her encounter with Madam, her sessions in the gym ... Jess shook her head, trying not to remember how good all that had felt.
‘I can see you’re thinking carefully about what I’ve said.’ Mrs Peters’ features remained immobile, but Jess couldn’t help feel as if she was being mocked in some way. ‘Before you meet my special guest, I need to reassure myself that you’re capable of coping with a wider range of challenges.’
Saying nothing, Jess kept her eyes trained on the keyboard, over which her fingers remained frozen in mid-sentence.
‘I have arranged for you to meet one of my regulars. You will accompany me now.’
‘But I’m needed here ...’ Jess gestured to the pile of work that awaited her fractured concentration.
‘It can wait.’ Mrs Peters pulled back her shoulders and stepped away from the desk so Jess could stand up. ‘We really must do something about your wardrobe, child.’
Jess looked at the suit she’d bought for her new job at the hotel. Smart black skirt and jacket, with a crisp fitting white blouse beneath. She couldn’t see what was wrong with it.
‘Oh your appearance is fine for the office, Miss Sanders,’ Mrs Peters continued, once again giving Jess the impression she could read her mind, ‘but as a member of my more exclusive staff, you should dress more appropriately.’
Images of stockings, Basques, tight fitting dresses and PVC nurse’s outfits swam in Jess’s head.
‘You need to give in, you know. Every now and then I think you have, but then you start the struggle with your conscience all over again.’ Mrs Peters lifted Jess’s chin with two of her slender fingers and peered into her eyes, ‘The more you fight what that lively little body of yours truly desires, the harder you will find your life here.’
‘I...’ Much to her relief, Jess’s sentence was cut short by the arrival of the lift, as she hadn’t really known what she’d been going to say.
The atmosphere of the stuffy lift became increasingly uncomfortable as the two women ascended to the fifth floor. Only once the silver doors had opened, and Mrs Peters had stepped into the narrow hallway that ran between the five main doors of the hotel’s top level, did she began to explain her intentions.
‘My client has rearranged his business appointments today specifically because I have asked for his assistance in your instruction.’
A lump developed in Jess’s
The butterflies that seemed to live in Jess’s stomach these days began to flutter as she listened.
‘The outcome of this evening will determine many things about the future direction of life on the fifth floor, including your own. Much has been made of your natural submission and I think the reality of that has begun to sink in with you. The question is, are you good enough to stay on my staff? Do you have what it takes? I did wonder if I’d have to ask if you wanted to stay, but from the evidence of Miss Sarah, from Lee, and from the recordings I have made of you, I am convinced that you have already crossed the point of no return. So the real question is will I let you stay?
An unexpected panic gripped Jess. It hadn’t occurred to her that she might not be allowed to stay. She was further disconcerted by the knowledge of what that panic meant. And, on top of that, she wondered just how many recordings had been made of her since she arrived. All the secret but necessary sessions she’d had in the Ladies, the conversation with Lee in the staff room, her encounter with Madam, her sessions in the gym ... Jess shook her head, trying not to remember how good all that had felt.
‘I can see you’re thinking carefully about what I’ve said.’ Mrs Peters’ features remained immobile, but Jess couldn’t help feel as if she was being mocked in some way. ‘Before you meet my special guest, I need to reassure myself that you’re capable of coping with a wider range of challenges.’
Saying nothing, Jess kept her eyes trained on the keyboard, over which her fingers remained frozen in mid-sentence.
‘I have arranged for you to meet one of my regulars. You will accompany me now.’
‘But I’m needed here ...’ Jess gestured to the pile of work that awaited her fractured concentration.
‘It can wait.’ Mrs Peters pulled back her shoulders and stepped away from the desk so Jess could stand up. ‘We really must do something about your wardrobe, child.’
Jess looked at the suit she’d bought for her new job at the hotel. Smart black skirt and jacket, with a crisp fitting white blouse beneath. She couldn’t see what was wrong with it.
‘Oh your appearance is fine for the office, Miss Sanders,’ Mrs Peters continued, once again giving Jess the impression she could read her mind, ‘but as a member of my more exclusive staff, you should dress more appropriately.’
Images of stockings, Basques, tight fitting dresses and PVC nurse’s outfits swam in Jess’s head.
‘You need to give in, you know. Every now and then I think you have, but then you start the struggle with your conscience all over again.’ Mrs Peters lifted Jess’s chin with two of her slender fingers and peered into her eyes, ‘The more you fight what that lively little body of yours truly desires, the harder you will find your life here.’
‘I...’ Much to her relief, Jess’s sentence was cut short by the arrival of the lift, as she hadn’t really known what she’d been going to say.
The atmosphere of the stuffy lift became increasingly uncomfortable as the two women ascended to the fifth floor. Only once the silver doors had opened, and Mrs Peters had stepped into the narrow hallway that ran between the five main doors of the hotel’s top level, did she began to explain her intentions.
‘My client has rearranged his business appointments today specifically because I have asked for his assistance in your instruction.’
A lump developed in Jess’s
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