Office Heat I: Punished
Marlee has a secret she dare not divulge, and it isn't something that will withstand the scrutiny of a criminal investigation. When the computer system at the law firm where she works is hacked and critical information filched, she discovers she could be looking at jail time and begs them for the chance to repay them in whatever manner they see fit. The sentence is six months hard time-with six young lawyers.
(NOTE! This version is written in first person. An alternative third person version is available.)
Word Count: 21,379
Genre: Erotic Romance
Rating: Erotica. Contains light bondage, explicit sex and graphic language, and some scenes of sex with multiple partners.
Available formats: : PDF, RTF, Epub, HTML, Mobipocket (.prc)
© Cover Art by Eliza Black 2012,
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
I knew the moment I entered the conference room that I was in deep do do. There were six partners in the law firm I worked for--two were brothers, the others their buddies from college--and all six were waiting for me, their expressions eloquent of condemnation--accusation.
Guilt immediately assailed me. It was a strange quirk of my nature that I always felt guilty whenever anyone looked at me accusingly, even if I couldn’t remember having done anything I should feel guilty about.
What the hell had I done? Or not done?
I looked at them wide eyed, trying to swallow the knot of abject terror that was slowly working its way up my throat. My life was flashing before my eyes, however, job hunting, and eviction--sleeping in my car--and to save my life I couldn’t begin to guess what I’d done.
I’d been working at the firm for a grand total of three weeks. Thus far, I’d had a crush on three of the hunks that practiced law in between rounds of racquetball, tennis--and dating scary beautiful, painfully (for me) young women.
Not that any of them actually knew I existed as a woman. Fresh out of a ten year, going nowhere relationship, my self-confidence was at an all time low, partly because of my ex, and partly because I was a realist at heart--or maybe a pessimist? Some people argued that there was a difference between the two. To me, they were like conjoined twins--virtually the same in every way that counted.
In a world that idolized youth and anorexia, I was staring hard at that dreaded mid-thirty mark, and my size twelve/fourteen figure wasn’t considered a ‘classic’ hourglass. It was bordering on elephantitis.
I still wasn’t sure why they’d given me the job. I was fresh out of tech school. I didn’t have experience, looks, or youth to recommend me. The only thing I could figure out was that it was because I came cheap--or maybe because they didn’t want a distraction.
It was certainly a lowering thought, but probably close to the mark, pessimism notwithstanding. The front desk girl was their ‘type’--a size one, fresh faced because she hadn’t even turned twenty yet, and from an upper scale family with upper scale money. She was working on her internship and was clearly going somewhere in life. She had looks, youth, money, and no compunction about using every weapon at her disposal to get where she was going. She generally treated me the same way the partners did, as if I was transparent. Occasionally, I would catch her giving me speculative looks, as if she was sizing me up--there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she was planning on having a wedding ring on her finger before she graduated and she didn’t particularly care which of the partners it was--but there was far more contempt or plain old disgust in her expression than anything I could interpret as ‘sizing up the competition’.