Page 1 of His Little Cryptolite

Chapter One

Allisa

“I’m going,” I insist as I toss my blouse on the floor and unzip my pencil skirt. I’ve already kicked off my black pumps, and I don’t make eye contact with my friends as I rummage through my closet.

Kate groans. “Allisa… This is a terrible idea.”

“I agree,” Mary chimes in. “Do you or do you not recall what happened just a few months ago when Bailey stepped into Club Zoom?”

I spin around, holding up a pale pink dress. “Oh, I remember just fine. That’s why I’m going.” I toss the dainty, risqué dress on my bed and head for my chest of drawers. In seconds, I’m able to locate and grab my favorite pale pink bra and panty set.

While my best friends watch, I remove the white professional bra and panties I wore to work today, leaving me naked. We’ve been roommates for over four years. We’re not modest with each other.

“Allisa…” Mary continues, “Let’s talk about this.”

I shake my head as I put on the sexy pink lingerie set. Next, I pull the dress over my head and smooth down the front. I bought this dress months ago, but I’ve never worn it. The style is called babydoll. The top is covered with delicate lace and fitted across my chest. The sleeves are one-inch straps of silk and lace. The skirt begins below my breasts and hangs in a flowy sheer tulle over a thin layer of silk.

Just as I did in the fitting room when I bought the dress, I stand in front of the full mirror on the back of my closet and smile. I haven’t smiled much lately, but this dress makes me do so now.

Kate comes up behind me, meeting my gaze in the mirror. Her brow is furrowed. “Bailey went to Club Zoom, and we never saw her again. We don’t even know for sure what happens to the women who are chosen from the club. All we know is they vanish from Earth. Literally. Is that a risk you’re willing to take?”

“Yes.” I don’t hesitate as I bend down to look for my silver sandals. Spotting them quickly, I snag them by the rear straps and hop up onto my bed to put them on.

Mary leans against the wall in my bedroom, biting into a nail. “Is it that bad at work?”

“Yes,” I say bluntly. “Worse.” I shudder as I slide off the bed and head for the attached bathroom. My hair has been in a tight bun on top of my head all day. I pull out the pins to alleviate the pressure, leaving the high ponytail so that the blond curls tumble down around my shoulders.

After applying some bubblegum lip gloss, I push past my two well-meaning friends to return to the mirror.

“Why did you change?” Kate asks softly. “You looked fine in the professional skirt and blouse.”

I stare at myself. I absolutely love this look. It’s me. The stuffy buttoned-up clothes I wear to work are not my style. This is. It’s something I discovered about myself recently. There’s aterm for the kind of kink I crave, and I have never discussed it with my friends. Not a single word. I don’t think they would understand.

I’m going out tonight. I’m doing so in the clothes that make me feel comfortable. Feel like myself. I’m not the prim-and-proper businesswoman I spent four years preparing for. I don’t fit in. I hate my job. I hate everything about it. And I especially hate the asshole who’s been stalking me since I started working there.

This dress is adorable.

It suits my inner Little. The persona I’ve never let out. The one who doesn’t fit in with vanilla society.

The only reason I know about my newfound age-play kink is because I started reading books. After graduation, I had more time on my hands and discovered romance novels. It was an accident that I happened to read a book about Daddies and Littles. But I saw myself in that book and devoured it overnight.

The next day at work, I was exhausted, but I was also trembling from the discovery and watching the clock until five so I could race home, buy another book, and consume it within hours, too.

I’m addicted to the genre and the lifestyle. I even went out and bought this dress because it made me feel Little.

It’s not like other adults don’t dress like this. They do. Babydoll dresses are popular, and no one will bat an eye over me wearing one that’s particularly dainty and pink. Sure, most women would probably pair this dress with heels, but I’m not most women, and I’ve been wearing heels all day. I’m sticking with the sandals.

“Did Bradley do something particularly annoying today?” Mary asks.

I wince. Bradley Metford. Fucking asshole. He’s the owner’s son and the biggest dick on the planet. The man spotted me onthe first day I started working for the marketing firm, and he hasn’t stopped following me around since. He’s my stalker.

I can’t even go to HR because Bradley isn’t some random employee violating a sexual harassment policy. He’s the owner’s fucking kid. He can do whatever he wants.

This was supposed to be my dream job. I couldn’t believe when I landed it, my application being accepted over dozens of others. I only applied at Metford Marketing because my advisor in human resources on the college campus told me to apply for at least one outlier. One business I was drooling to work for. A place where I would never get an interview with my recent degree and total lack of experience.

But somehow, I did get an interview, and I even got the job. That was three months ago. Now I wish I’d never met that advisor on campus. My life is a fucking shitshow.

It took me a few weeks to realize I didn’t earn my position at Metford Marketing. Bradley fucking saw me come in, thought I was pretty, and told them to hire me. And then he proceeded to spend every moment of every day flirting with me.