Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
“Oh… god…” I moaned. “I…”
Don’t say it, whispered a tiny voice in my head. You never have to confess.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, sir.” I felt something very complicated happen in my chest: a warmth, of affection… of… oh, god… of love—mingled with an unexpected flame of resistance, defiance.
You didn’t really admit it, did you? Things you say under duress—and what else is having your whipped backside fucked by your boss besides duress—they don’t count.
He began to move, slowly at first, then with increasing speed and force. Each thrust sent shockwaves of sensation through my body. The burn of the stretch, the fullness, the dirty, forbidden nature of the act—it all combined into an overwhelming tornado of feeling.
I sobbed and whimpered, my hands fisting in the sheets. I wanted to beg him to stop, to pull myself away from the intensity of it somehow. But I had admitted it… I had confessed… that hot, deep part of me, more body than mind or even heart, reveled in the violation, in the utter submission of allowing Stuart to use my body for his pleasure.
“Such a good little anal slut,” Stuart panted as he pounded into me. “Taking me so well. Your ass feels so nice and tight on my cock.”
His words sent a fresh wave of humiliation and arousal through me. My pussy clenched and throbbed, desperate for attention even as my ass was being thoroughly used. I bucked my hips into the pillows, desperate for some friction though the softness of Stuart’s luxurious linens gave me nothing in return.
“Please,” I whimpered. “Oh, god, please…”
“I know what you need,” Stuart said in a voice thick with his own lust. “You naughty girl. But you’re asking like a good girl, and I need to make certain superior performance gets rewarded.”
Then I cried out, because Stuart’s hand had snaked around to find my clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he continued to fuck my ass. The dual stimulation overwhelmed me in an instant. I felt myself hurtling toward orgasm, my whole body trembling on the edge.
“Come for me,” Stuart commanded. “Come with my cock in your tight little ass.”
His words pushed me over the edge. I came with a scream, my body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over me. My ass clenched around Stuart’s cock, milking him as he continued to thrust.
With a guttural groan, Stuart slammed deep inside me one last time. I felt the hot pulse of his release, filling my most intimate place. He collapsed on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress as we both panted heavily.
After a long moment, Stuart slowly withdrew. I whimpered at the loss, feeling suddenly empty and bereft. He gathered me into his arms, stroking my hair gently.
“You did so well,” he murmured. “Such a good girl for me.”
I nuzzled against his chest, overwhelmed by emotion. Tears leaked from my eyes—not from pain or humiliation now, but from the intensity of the experience, the depth of my submission.
“Thank you, sir,” I whispered. “Thank you for… for everything.”
His arms tightened around me. He kissed my forehead and spoke very softly, as if to a wild animal he meant to tame.
“Oh, we’re just getting started cultivating this secret garden of yours, Miss Mitropoulos.”
CHAPTER 22
Stuart
Sharon pinged me the morning of the Your Secret Garden green-light meeting—the big one, with the key stakeholders, men whose calendars had to be booked weeks in advance.
Stuart, sorry to bother you but I think you may have an issue with two of your team members. Melissa Mitropoulos booked a punishment room to discipline Mandy Pollock this morning. Did you authorize that?
I pondered for a moment, wondering whether to tell Sharon that I had in fact authorized a paddling for Mandy, and simply forgotten to enter it into the system. I hadn’t, but sometimes it made more sense to cover my people’s asses—or, more accurately, to paddle them myself—than to let corporate HR get involved. I reflected, though, that Melissa probably needed to resolve a few issues with Sharon. The foolish decision to do whatever this was with Mandy would certainly make things a bit clearer for the girl I had fallen for, even if the result for Melissa ended up being another painful lesson in corporate hierarchy.
I’ll take care of it, Sharon, I messaged back. Thanks.
The reply I’d expected came back within thirty seconds.
Update me when you get the chance.
I opened the human resources management workflow system and found Melissa’s log. She had indeed scheduled a half hour in Room 5003, beginning—I looked at my watch—in three minutes. The offense Melissa had given was Insubordination: Minor.
I tuned into the surveillance feed for the discipline room, settling back in my chair to watch the scene unfold. The door opened and Melissa strode in, her posture radiating authority. Mandy followed meekly behind, her eyes downcast and her shoulders slightly hunched.