Chapter 17

The bald headed man presenting at the front of the room could have been speaking a completely different language for all I knew. Nothing he was saying was coherent to me. I couldn't focus on anything besides the feel of Miss Rose's fingers that were carefully tracing patterns up and down my thighs.

It was a typical workday and I was seated beside Miss Rose in a meeting. We were seated on one of two sides of the long rectangular table in the meeting room. As usual, I had my iPad out in front of me, but besides the automated date at the top, the page was blank.

Everyone else in the meeting seemed focus on what was being said by the man presenting, oblivious to the sexual torture that was occurring under their very noses.