Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 58185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“Morning, Cathy,” I replied, offering her a small smile. Despite her aloofness, I had come to appreciate her meticulous nature. It represented a stark contrast to the playful sexist banter that filled the office, but it provided a balance that kept me grounded.
“Hey, Ingrid! You joining us for the cake run this afternoon?” one of the junior executives called out from across the room. Louis, always full of energy, flashed me a wide grin.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I responded, feeling a genuine warmth toward them all. Over the weeks, we had shared not just work-related communication, but bits and pieces of our personal lives as well. Their loyalty to each other seemed real, and I felt grateful to be part of this team, even if it was a fact known to all of them that Joseph used me day and night as his personal fuck toy.
“Ingrid, Joseph wants to see you in his office,” Martin announced with a knowing look from his seat by the window. My heart skipped a beat. Despite the frequency of these summons, I still hadn’t grown used to the flush of excitement—and dread—that accompanied them.
“Thank you, Martin,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. As I made my way to Joseph’s office, I could feel the eyes of the junior executives following me, their gazes filled with a mix of envy and amusement.
Joseph’s office door was ajar, and I knocked softly before entering. He looked up from his desk, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine with a possessive intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.
“Close the door, Ingrid,” he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. I obeyed without hesitation, feeling the familiar thrill of submission wash over me.
“On your knees,” he ordered, pushing back from his desk to make room for me. My face burned with embarrassment, but I dropped to my knees, the plush carpet soft beneath me. His cock was already hard, straining against the fabric of his tailored trousers, and I reached up to free him from their confines.
“Good girl,” he murmured as I took him into my mouth, the taste of him filling my senses. I worked diligently, my tongue swirling around the head of his cock, savoring the sounds of his approval. He seized my head, as he always did, holding my mouth in place so that he could thrust to the back of my throat, raising his hips forcefully from his desk chair. When he finally came, I swallowed every drop, my body aching with need.
“Stand up,” he instructed, pulling me to my feet and bending me over his desk. He lifted my skirt to my waist to reveal the black thong he had given me the previous night, worn over the suspenders of the matching garter belt.
His hand slid between my thighs with a murmur of approval. His fingers worked their way inside the panties’ gusset and found me wet and ready. When he plunged his thumb inside my needy sheath, the soreness there from his daily use only increased the warmth.
“I’ll fuck you here this afternoon, sweetheart,” he growled. “I promise. If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you come. You may go.”
I smoothed down my dress and slipped out of his office, my legs trembling. The walk to the bathroom was a gauntlet, the junior executives’ smirks and whispers adding to my humiliation. But crazily and ambiguously, beneath it all, I had a sense of… of belonging, that I realized I had always craved. I belonged to Joseph, yes—I even belonged to the office, to the bro-ish junior executives. But I belonged with them, too; I had become part of something bigger than myself.
In the bathroom, I fixed my hair and straightened my clothes, my mind racing. Yes, despite everything, I felt strangely at home here. The mid-morning coffee breaks, the afternoon cake runs—these rituals had become a comforting routine. And though the demands of my sexual service to Joseph were intense and often left me sore, I found myself craving his touch more and more.
As I returned to my desk, Cathy caught my eye and gave me a small, understanding nod, as if to reassure me that though I might still find it mortifying, my sexual service to my powerful boss represented no more than the expectation for a Selecta secretary. It wasn’t much, really, but it helped me. I felt like we were all in this together, navigating the hot, dark, bizarro world of Selecta Corporation.
Today, like every day around three o’clock, Joseph called me into his office again. The intercom buzzed with his crisp command, “Ingrid, my office. Now.” My heart would skip a beat at the sound of his voice, that possessive, dominant tone that sent a shiver down my spine.
My mouth in the morning, if Joseph had time. My pussy in the afternoon, unless he was on the road. He had missed his afternoon fuck on only a handful of days since the first time he had used me as the climax of my ‘interview.’