Sheila groaned in exasperation. She grabbed the phone and breathlessly said, "Scott Industries. Ms. Watson speaking. How may I help you?"
"Ah, Ms. Watson," a deep male voice said, "This is Mr. Scott. The Mr. Scott of Scott Industries." Sheila felt herself stiffen. Jacob, who'd been gently caressing her breasts also stiffened, then backed away as he heard the voice on the phone continue, "I want to see you in my office on the tenth floor in two minutes." There was a click and Sheila stood stunned as the dial tone buzzed in her ear.
Sheila looked frantically for her sweater, then tugged it on, shoving it into her slacks as she moved toward the door. Jacob hissed, "Hold it! You're not tucked in at the back!" Sheila fixed her the sweater and hurried to the elevator. Jacob, she saw from the corner of her eye, was heading off toward the stock room.
Sheila took the elevator up to the tenth floor and tried not to run as she moved to Mr. Scott's office. She opened the outer door and his secretary pursed her lips as she looked at her watch while she keyed the intercom. "Ms. Watson is here, sir."
The voice answered, "Thank you Janet. Go powder your nose. There's apt to be some yelling that you don't need to hear. I probably won't need it, but give me forty-five minutes!"
Sheila blanched as the young woman replied, "Yes Sir!" while giving her a pitying look. She grabbed her purse and said to Sheila, "Go on in. He's waiting." She added in a whisper, "Good Luck!" She stepped out of the office, pulling the door closed behind her.
Sheila swallowed hard, trying to think what she could have done to be in so much trouble on her first day here at Corporate Headquarters. She stepped inside. "Well! Come in!" the tall, dark haired man commanded. "Close the door behind you!" Sheila jumped, almost in tears just from the anger in his voice as she stepped back, pulling the door closed behind her.
She walked over and stood before the mahogany desk in the center of the room. Two comfortable looking chairs sat to one side of the room. In front of her stood an old fashioned, straight-backed, unpadded wooden chair. Off to one side of the desk, on a wheeled cart sat a 21" state of the art, colored television set with a built-in VCR and CD player. It was turned on, the screen a deep blue, but nothing was playing, yet!
"Now, Ms. Watson," the man said in a cold voice, "Strip and sit down!"
"What!" Sheila demanded, outraged. "How dare you..."
Her voice trailed off as he turned and pointed a remote control at the TV. A tape began playing, showing her and Jacob as they kissed. It went on, showing her taking her sweater off. As soon as her breasts showed on the screen, the man pressed another button, freezing the image on the screen.
"Now, Ms Watson," he said as her outrage turned into a mix of fear and dismay, "Are you going to do as I commanded or should I send a copy of this along with your pink slip to the agency I used to hire you?"
Sheila dropped her head in shame, then, fighting her tears, pulled off her sweater. She dropped it beside the chair. She unfastened her slacks, hooked her thumbs in the waist band of her thong and slipped both it and her slacks to the floor. She sat down long enough to pull them off, along with her knee high stockings. Then, she sat on the cold, hard wooden chair.
Adam Scott smiled to himself as the humiliated woman sat down before him. Her nipples had already pebbled in the cool air of the office and he felt his organ stir with desire. "Ms Watson, I called you up here to discuss your job with my company. This is, I would hope, not exactly the kind of first impression you really wanted to make, is it?"
Tears pouring down her face, Sheila said, "N-No S-Sir! N-Not A-At All!"
Adam smiled as he said, "I don't...
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