Sweet Backlash

New Dawning International
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An Erotic BDSM
Novel

By

Violet Heart

Copyright © 2010 Violet
Heart

~ Sweet Backlash
~

"We're reassigning you."

Melony blinked. "You're
what?"

Debra, the personnel manager, nodded
with a frown. "You don't seem happy in the litigation department
anymore." Reaching around, she shut her office door. "To be
perfectly frank, I think it bothers them you're young and pretty,
but smart. You defy the rule of blonds." She laughed, a forced,
contrived sound.

Melony shook her head. "That's silly.
Hair color has nothing to do with ability Besides, I've worked in
litigation for six years. It's what I know best."

Debra gave her a sympathetic look. "I
know. And the partners are in an uproar over this decision because
you're the one they go to when they need a quick answer about a
client's case. But I just can't keep you where your presence
creates turmoil and hostility."

A lump formed in Melony's throat and
she swallowed past it. She took a deep breath then said, "I don't
understand. I haven't done anything to deserve this."

"I know. Your supervisor says the
others see you as a know-it-all. And they think you're stuck up. Of
course, it's hogwash. If an attorney or another paralegal asks you
a question, it's your job to give them the information they seek.
The problem is you seem to know just about everything off the top
of your head, while the other ladies have to look up the answers.
You make them feel less competent, even though they're not. As for
the stuck up part, I think it's because you don't stand around
gossiping or talking about your weekends."

Melony shifted in her seat. She didn't
talk about her weekends for a reason. "Is my job in
jeopardy?"

"No!" Debra held up a hand. "Not at
all." She shuffled through papers in a file. "All of your year-end
evaluations are outstanding. The attorneys value you. We don't want
to lose you. So we're only moving you to a position where we hope
you'll be more comfortable."

"I'm comfortable where I am."
Please don't transfer me to collections or the foreclosure
department.
If that happened, she would seriously consider
quitting.

Debra huffed and planted a hand on her
desk, but she didn't lose control of her concerned expression. "But
the rest of the department isn't. We've got to do what's best for
everyone."

Though it hurt, Melony understood the
manager's difficult position. Crossing her fingers behind her back,
she showed mercy and asked, "So what do you have in
mind?"

Debra's shoulders relaxed and she
smiled. "We've hired a new associate attorney for litigation. He
needs a secretary."

Aghast, Melony grimaced as her stomach
lurched. "A secretary? You want me to be a secretary?"

Debra raised her hand again. "I know,
I know. You deal with the partners' secretaries, who handle a lot
of personal stuff for their bosses. But what if I promise you
wouldn't have to deal with any of his personal business? You would
strictly be a legal secretary with consulting responsibilities for
the litigation department. That way, the partners can still come to
you with their questions, you'd be removed from the ladies and
their personal problems, and you get a raise right away with
another after your yearly evaluation."

How could she argue with that? It made
her nervous, though. To have an attorney asking her to take a
letter? She didn't remember any of the shorthand she'd learned in
high school. Making flight and hotel reservations for deposition
trips? She fisted her hands at the very thought of him asking her
to fetch coffee. "I don't know about this."

"Just try it. If it doesn't work,
we'll figure out something else."

"What's his name?"

Debra gave her a blank look. "I'm
sorry?"

"The attorney. What's his
name?"

"Oh. Um… I have it here somewhere."
The manager rifled through a stack of e-mails. "I can't seem to
find it. Would you agree to take the position and I'll get it to
you by the end of the day?"

Resigned, though glad she still had a
job, Melony gave a single nod.

Debra issued a delighted clap and
beamed a triumphant smile. "Excellent! Let me show you your new
desk. Your attorney isn't due to start until Monday, so take these
next two days to move your things and settle in, then enjoy your
weekend."

Melony lacked the manager's
enthusiasm. "Thanks."'

* * * *

Friday morning, Melony arrived at her
new desk and stood, hands planted on her hips. What in the world
would she do all day? She had moved her things yesterday, and the
computer geeks had moved and hooked up her computer system before
she arrived that morning.

Coffee. She needed coffee. Holding the
handset of her phone, she punched Kathy's extension. The double
beep let her know her friend was in the office and had turned off
her voicemail. "Kathy. Pick up."

"Hey, woman! Likin' your new digs?"
her friend's too-cheerful voice boomed.

"Not so loud," Melony said with a
wince, wishing worry over her lack of job security hadn't kept her
tossing and turning the night before.

"Got a hangover?" Kathy
giggled.

"Yeah, right. You know I never have
more than one glass of wine."

"Control freak." Her friend
chuckled.

"Look who's talking. You're the one
with a whip in the trunk of your car. Just in case."

"Shhh! What d'ya want,
anyway?"

Melony smiled, enjoying her friend's
discomfort. "Coffee. Come down to Pop's Kitchen with
me."

"Ugh! You know I hate that restaurant.
Those waitresses don't wash their hands."

"The coffee's self-serve. Besides, you
know the deputies hang out there in the mornings. Maybe you'll meet
a tall, muscular gun-toter to use your whip on." She grinned. Her
friend couldn't refuse now.

"Those brown uniforms
do
turn
me on."

"Meet you at the elevator."

She laughed when she found Kathy
already waiting, holding open the elevator door. "I love you," she
said. "That's the first laugh I've had since this whole thing
started yesterday."

The door closed. Kathy leaned against
the back wall and flicked a black curl over her shoulder. "Those
stupid bitches. I ought to take my whip to them."

"It's not that bad." Melony thoroughly
enjoyed the image of Kathy cracking the braided leather length over
Loretta's cowering, quivering body. She sighed.

"Like hell! You're a stinkin'
secretary thanks to them." Kathy's green eyes sparkled with anger
despite the dim overhead light.

"You make it sound like I've been
demoted. They're giving me a raise. I'll give you two lashes if you
breathe a word about it. It's a much easier job, I think. And I
don't have to work with those mushrooms anymore." She snapped her
fingers.

Kathy screwed up her features.
"Mushrooms?"

The doors opened and Melony led the
way. "Yeah. Kept in the dark and fed a ration of shit every
day."

Her friend barked a laugh and followed
her into the first-floor restaurant. The place teemed with brown
jackets.
Sheriff's Dept.
lettered their backs in yellow.
Through the window, across the street, the federal court building
and jail stood still and quiet. Kathy had plenty of time to
fraternize.

Turning, Melony glimpsed her friend's
look of pure joy. "Go to it, girl." She headed to the coffee
counter.

Keeping an ear out to Kathy's flirts
and wild invitations, she tamped down her giggles. Her friend would
get in trouble if she propositioned the wrong deputy. Luckily, her
overtures met with banter and chuckles. When it seemed Kathy
wouldn't find a new playmate, Melony snapped a lid on her cup and
gave a low whistle. She inclined her head toward the dispenser.
"We've got to get back. Are you getting some?"

"I am so not getting some from these
guys," She snatched a cup from a stack and filled it. She picked up
a lid and joined Melony at the register. "This is on you,
right?"

"Already paid for yours." Melony
grinned, accepting coins from the cashier. On the way back, she
said, "I wish my desk were next to yours. I'm going to be bored
today."

"Too bad surfing the web's a firing
offense. There's always the bathroom. Though your white blouse and
linen skirt look like they'd wrinkle really bad." Kathy waggled her
eyebrows and smirked.

"Aren't you funny." Melony rolled her
eyes. "Is that new?" She admired her friend's purple, silk suit. It
looked very expensive.

"Gift." Kathy waved a hand. "I earned
it, if you ask me."

Melony chuckled. "Stanley?"

"Hell, yes. I swear, I think he likes
the pain. I've had to get rough lately."

"He's not giving you any?"

"I have to make him bleed just to stir
some life into his cock." Kathy shook her head. "I'm thinking about
turning him loose. It's time for a change, anyway."

Melony studied her friend. "You've
been with Stanley for two years. Do you ever think about getting
married? Having kids?"

"No way!" Kathy spat, one corner of
her mouth lifting in a sneer.

"You could give them a better life
than you had. I know your dad—"

"No way. I wouldn't know what to do
with kids. I've decided I'm one of those women who isn't meant to
be a mother. Besides, I'm having too much fun."

Melony nodded. "Yeah, I'm happy, too.
Thank for mentoring me into the society." Except she wasn't
convinced. She couldn't shake a sense of loneliness.

She waved goodbye, made her way to her
desk, and sank into her seat. She considered not turning on her
computer, but if an attorney requested information, she would need
the database at her fingertips. While her system booted, she took a
sip of coffee and eyed the empty adjacent office.

Smiling, she wondered if the new
attorney knew he would have no privacy behind the glass wall. Every
attorney office in the building sported the see-through feature.
She shook her head. Yeah, he was in for a treat.

Chip shrugged into his suit jacket on
the elevator ride from the parking garage. He tried to flex his
shoulders, hating the constricting confines of the tailored cut.
Wiggling the tie at his throat, he closed his eyes and tried to
imagine himself at the beach, where he had originally planned to
spend the day. Unfortunately, Bob had called and invited him to
Monday's court hearing to meet one of the judges. Now he had to
prepare.

The elevator dinged and he opened his
eyes. He gripped his soft-sided briefcase as the door slid open.
The personnel director, What's Her Name, had told him his office
was on the left at the back. With the confidence his father had
instilled in him, he headed in that direction like he owned the
place.