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Evelyn is invited to join a very exclusive club, but she must first be interviewed by the admissions committee and explain why she deserves to be a part of SaM's very exclusive club. The series begins with her first night at the club and then progresses through the stories she tells the committee to prove she is worthy to become a permanent part of SaM's Club.
The stories are better understood if you have read the previous chapters, but each chapter stands more or less on its own.
In Chapter Five, Evelyn tells the first of ten tales to show her superiority as a true Mistress.
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Sam stepped off the raised portion which had rotated through the wall and spoke with the ring of authority in his voice, "You realize, Evelyn, that these interviews are the only way to become a permanent part of SaM's Place. Money or position means nothing. The only thing that matters is what you are. The interview will determine if you are a true Master or Mistress. Maybe you are just a vanilla nobody traipsing through a humdrum existence. Perhaps you are in reality just a submissive slave waiting for the right Master or Mistress to claim you. By the end of this evening, we will know for sure."
He took Evelyn's hand as she rose from the table, "Are you ready to find out what you truly are?"
They walked a short distance down the hallway and into a brightly lit room. In some ways it resembled a court room. Twelve people sat in what would be a jury position. Each wore black robes and a mask which completely covered their faces. The men's mask were golden in color with curled, golden hair surrounding the face. The women's mask were silver with a crown and flowing straight hair on the sides. There may or may not have been spectators in the public chairs. Evelyn could not tell because that area was clothed in darkness.
Sam took a seat in the judge's chair and motioned for Evelyn to enter the witness box. The witnesses chair was a luxurious padded chair with a small table next to it on which sat a small glass of water, a few candies, and a small box of tissues.
"You may sit down," he said, and then he continued, "The rules of our little gathering are relatively simple. There are twelve jurors. Ten of them will ask you to tell us an episode from your life which shows your power as a Master or Mistress. At the end of the ten stories, if the jury is sufficiently impressed, you will become a permanent part of SaM's Place. If not..., well, we will deal with that if it occurs. This is your last chance to back out. Are you willing to proceed?"
Evelyn looked around the room and answered as haughtily as she could, "Of course."
Sam struck his gavel against the desk, "Then we are ready to begin. We start with juror number one."
One of the robed jury women rose and began to speak. Her voice was obviously electronically disguised and sounded strange as she spoke. "We will begin with something recent but insignificant. Please tell us something relatively minor which you have done in the past month which demonstrates your standing as a Mistress."
Evelyn thought for a moment and then smiled. "Just last week," she began, "I asserted myself in the humiliation of one of my office employees. I manage a rather large office in a business I inherited from my father. One of the secretaries is a rather timid Chinese girl by the name of Chang, or at least that is what is sounds like to me. Chang is always so aloof in that oriental way that is so irritating. It is almost like they think they are superior to us or something. In any case, I decided to take her down a peg or two."
Without anyone in the office knowing it, I had a keyboard supervisor program installed. Anything that anyone typed went into a log that I could read later. Since we allow personal emails during lunch and break times, this gave me some very interesting information about my employees, including their signon names and passwords for all their accounts. In Chang's case I also knew that her fiancee and his family were coming to pick her up from work on Friday night. I had noticed that whenever he was planning to pick her up she would wear one of those fancy silk dresses that those kind of people like to wear. I knew that she would be wearing something like that on Friday, and it would be perfect for my plan.
I began by giving my personal secretary and receptionist a special day off and told her not to tell anyone about it. Then on Friday, when she was not there, I called Chang to my office and told her that my secretary-receptionist had called in sick and she would have to substitute. Chang was very qualified for the position and could have handled it easily, but as soon as she sat down at the desk and tried to log onto the computer, it crashed. I rebooted it for her and she began working, but it again soon crashed. This repeated itself several times. I told her that my regular secretary had no problems with it. She said she had no idea what was happening.
I knew what was happening because I was triggering it. I had a program on my computer that could mimic a crash on any other computer on the network. Chang had no way of knowing that, or that it was all part of my plan to humiliate her. I explained to her that the ultra-high speed units on the second floor were very sensitive to static electricity. I asked her if she was wearing any combination of nylon and silk. Of course I knew she was. Her dress was silk. Her slip and pantyhose were nylon.
She answered, "My dress is pure silk. I guess my underwear is nylon. I didn't think that would make a difference."
I replied as haughtily as I could, "The problem is that you didn't think at all. The procedure manuals specify that silk and nylon are not to be worn together. I should just send you back downstairs, but I need those memos out today. You don't have time to go home and change, so just run into the restroom and remove your nylon under things."
I loved the way her face darkened. I knew she was very uptight about her body and the thought of being naked beneath a clinging silk dress was almost unbearable to her. "I couldn't do that," she stammered. I answered, "Do you want to keep your job or not? It's either the lady's room or the stairs. You can put your underwear back on after you have completed the work you need to do."
She just bit her lip and tears began to form in her eyes as she walked towards the lady's room. When she came back, she placed a small folded bundle of cloth in the desk drawer. It was obvious that there was nothing under the dress but her. She actually had a relatively nice body. Her perky tits were poking against the silk. In her embarrassment her nipples had become stiff, or maybe it was the result of rubbing against the silk as she walked. Part one of my plan was in place.
I had several complex memos and letters for her to finish and suggested that since they needed to be out today I would buy her lunch and she could eat at her desk. I knew what she would order and from where. She was not quite a vegetarian, but always chose a health salad from the deli instead of fast food. For someone else I would have had to come up with a plan to disguise the taste of the drug, but not with Chang. I knew that she would not taste the drug in the salad which she ordered. The drug has a nut-like taste which probably would have been noticed in a hamburger or sandwich, but not in a salad filled with nuts. It is also very easy to sprinkle the drug on the top of the salad like salt. This was almost too easy. The drug was a mild sedative which has a relaxing effect on a person, much like getting drunk. It also makes a person feel warm -- very, very warm.
After five or ten minutes, it was obvious that Chang was feeling the full effects of the drug. She kept pausing as she typed and fanning herself with some papers from the desk. I walked over to her and asked, "Aren't you a little young to be getting hot flashes?"
