Breakroom hums. Coffee percolates, sharp aroma blending with my jasmine perfume. I wake alone in 314’s executive suite upstairs, post-fuck glow fading. Loose blouse, baggy slacks. Head down for breakfast orders.
Voice calls. ‘Morning, ma’am.’ Mahir, thirtyish intern. Long ponytail, mismatched face, brown eyes glued to floor. Baggy pants, tee, barefoot. Lost puppy vibe.
Tension Builds in the Open-Space
‘Hi. Name?’ ‘Mahir, ma’am.’ Eyes up now, shy flick. ‘Cook?’ ‘A bit.’ ‘Peel veggies?’ ‘Yes!’ Smile cracks. I assign tasks. He bounces to counter.
Back from stock check. Knife wrong. Dangerous grip. Approach to fix. He jumps. Blade clatters. Trembles.
‘Sorry. Just showing safe hold.’ Pick it up. Legs shake. ‘What’s wrong?’ ‘He’ll kill me if I touch you.’ No need to ask who.
‘Not fingers brushing. Not accidents. Only deliberate grabs.’ Add rule: ‘Hide when seniors here. Be invisible.’ He nods. Grins.
His baggy fit sucks. ‘Pick three outfits. Return 314’s.’ He taps screen. I add mini-washer. Validate.
Work flows. Music on, his picks. Efficient now in slim jeans, shirt. Seniors inbound. ‘Hide.’ Vanishes. Lunch served. Eyes 308’s blues hungrily. 314 relaxed.
Post-meal, tidy. Coach call done. Suite cleaned. Gym stint. Door clicks. 314 enters, boots off. Kiss. Heat surges. Want his tongue everywhere. He pulls back.
‘Remember yesterday? Horny all day?’ Nod, blush. ‘You’re young, new to sex. I travel. Can’t fuck enough. Toys for you.’
Bag out. Black rubber plug. Small. ‘Ass.’ Wash. Flex. Plugs easy. Bigger dildos lined up. Penis-sized one. Lube, insert pussy. Slips. Harness fixes: hip belt, crotch strap. Secure. Filled.
‘Love it.’ Add plug. Stuffed front-back. Buzzing arousal. ‘Keeps you horny, but explore.’ More toys: vibrators, zappers. ‘Ask AI.’ He gyms. I watch, juices flow.
Desk Explosion and Cool Mask
Wear to service. No comments. Thrill peaks. Game night, conference room. Printer whirs outside. Mouse clicks echo open-space. VR headsets on. North African market sim. Snap target pics, evade.
Sexy tourist guise. Tight clothes distract. Stroll stalls. Gun at hip. Dragged to basement. Door slams in sim. Shadows dance.
‘Talk, bitch. Who?’ Nord enemy. Past hostage ghost. No logout. Rules changed.
Team chats. ‘Hold him!’ Pain box zaps shoulder. Scream rips. Real hurt. Belly next. Agony floods.
Eyes lock team feed. Harness shows when skirt rips. Enemy freezes, jaw drops. Victory screen. Log out. Toss headset.
‘Always no-log mid-game here.’ 308 shrugs. Dominate. 7-4 win. Cheers.
Back suite. 314: ‘Shocker works. Why stop?’ Harness reveal. ‘Wore ’em gaming.’ Eyes bulge. Grabs me.
Desk clears. Papers fly. Skirt up. Harness off fast. Cock slams pussy. Hard. Deep. Grunts. ‘Fucking slut, plugged all day?’ ‘Yes, boss!’ Thrusts pound. Desk creaks. Coffee scent lingers.
Flip. Ass up. Plug out, cock in. Stretches. Fills. Slaps echo. ‘Mine only.’ Cum builds. Squirts first. He floods ass. Collapse. Exhausted.
Minutes tick. Adjust harness under. Skirt smooth. Blouse straight. Perfume spritz. Door unlocks. Click. Back to open-space. Smiles professional. Next meeting. Looks from 314 burn. Secret sealed. Adrenaline high.