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Darion's Office 8
🕑 Added 2023-02-10 14:43:15 +0000 UTCDarion had a smile on his face as he waited for his newest worker to arrive, feeling rather satisfied with himself. He had pushed her hard, quite a bit more than what he had been planning in the first place, but the combination of her daring decision to wear that sexy sweater, her shocking obedience, and her clear distaste toward Janet proved the risk wasn’t too much.
Especially since she didn’t just run out of the room the moment she had seen the outfit he had arranged for her. A sexy one … a little insensitive maybe, but that wouldn’t be his worst crime.
Figuratively, or literally…
His smirk widened as he heard the door open, especially since she walked forward in soft, measured steps rather than a panicked dash.
She must have put the outfit on.
“Come on, sweetie, we don’t have all day,” Darion said, trying to sound serious and authoritative, holding back the suggestive comments that were on top of his lips. No need to scare her away after she progressed that much.
“Are you sure this is it?” she murmured as she peeked from the edge, a shy expression on her face.
“Yes, I’m sure, now come in,” he ordered.
She walked into the room, her body clad in the beautiful outfit he had picked for her, too revealing to be used for polite company — or any kind of company that wouldn’t end in an orgy. Luckily, he didn’t actually plan to have any customers there.
She was aware of that — hard not to be, when the dress was short enough to show her panties — which reflected in her posture as she desperately tried to hold it together, her gaze on the floor to avoid the shame.
“Come on, sweetie, why don’t you come here so I can make sure the outfit fits you perfectly,” he suggested, flashing a soft smile toward her, which hit her stronger than his anger.
“If … if you think it’s necessary, sir,” she whispered staggeringly as she took a step forward, closing in the distance. Darion couldn’t help but smirk at the way she referred, wondering if that word once again made him decide to escalate the situation further.
Or it was more about the prospect of economical security or the pure arousal she was feeling…
“Oh, I think it’s necessary,” he said as he took a step forward, and put his fingers under her chin. “Now, raise your head so that I can see your pretty smile.”
“As you wish, sir,” she gasped.
“Good,” he said as he looked down, taking note of the outfit, particularly the way it hugged her chest. “Sorry about that, it seems that I picked the wrong size,” he said.
“It’s not a problem, sir —” she said hurriedly, only to be interrupted as he reached the little string that was keeping the neck closed, and her cleavage remotely respectable.
“Nonsense, it’s my fault, I need to fix it,” he said as he flicked his finger. “Here,” he said as he put his hand on her waist. “Now, thank me.”
She paused for a moment before doing so. “T-thank you, sir,” she whispered, biting her lip desperately. He wondered whether it was the shame or arousal that made her do so.
Nothing prevented them from exploring that. Without a warning, he took a step behind her, and grabbed her, hard enough to force her to tiptoes. “Good, now the next part,” he said.
“W-what next part,” she stammered, but Darion didn’t answer, just tightened his grip. “Sir,” she added, a second necessary for her to take the clue.
What an obedient slut.
“Well,” Darion murmured even as he let his hands dance on her hips, this time slipping under her outfit, and pushed down her panties. “Your panties are showing, and it’s not an acceptable way to dress at work. Since I’m a kind boss, I decided to fix it,” he explained.
Rather than the complaints he was expecting, she only let out a desperate moan and raised her legs obediently to allow him to pull her panties out…
“Isn’t this better?” he whispered into her ear after he discarded her panties and threw them to the side, grabbing her arms in the process to push her to an even more compromising position, curious whether she would push back.
She … didn’t.
“As you wish, sir,” she answered, her breathing labored, suggesting that she would do nothing if he bent her forward and took her behind the counter.
And, for that exact reason, he pulled back…
***
The only reason Sakura didn’t collapse as her new boss walked away, she managed to grip the counter, gasping desperately to catch her breath. What just happened was … indescribable, stealing her breath away.
She didn’t complain. It wasn’t that she found him attractive, but it was something more. She had to admit, she never felt like that before as he ripped her panties out, no mercy, no respite, his fingers feeling much better than anything she had ever felt in her life, awakening sensations she had never felt before.
If he was a man, what were the others she had slept with before?
It frustrated her to no end as he walked away while she shivered with arousal, but she lacked the ability to say anything, to command him to do anything. “I-is there anything I can do for you, sir,” she whispered.
He didn’t answer as he walked away, getting away from the counter, and for a moment, she was afraid that he would walk away, leaving her alone and unfulfilled. Only to be replaced by relief when he pulled a seat for himself instead.
“How about a celebratory drink,” he said. “There’s some champagne there, behind the grinder.”
“As you wish, sir,” she said as she quickly poured two glasses from the already open champagne. He had already arranged for a celebration. She just needed to join.
She walked toward him, doing her best to ignore just how revealing her outfit was after his modifications. She tried to ignore it, because she was trembling in excitement, making her afraid she would spill the drinks.
“Excellent work,” he whispered, and she felt herself blushing at the compliment. He took one of the glasses … “Now, your next task, try not to spill your drink, or there’s a punishment. Don’t spill, and there’s a bonus,” he whispered.
“Of course—“ she said, but her words were interrupted.
He lifted her easily, like she was nothing more than a simple toy. “Celebration time,” he whispered as he buried his face in her cleavage, while she did her best not to spill the drink…
“S-sir, you’re distracting me from my task…” she managed to whisper, her tone throaty and inviting…
“I’m not distracting you from your task,” he answered. “This is your task!”
“Sir —“ she gasped, but that was all she was able to say before a string of moans exploded off her lips while his lips danced on her chest, making her work hard not to spill the drink.
Yet, somehow, she managed that … for a grand length of a few seconds, before she managed to put the glass on the table…
“You failed, it’s punishment time,” he growled as he pulled her to his lips.
A gasp escaped from her lips as his fingers danced at her entrance, his digits merciless. She was glad for that disobedient gasp; it prevented her from admitting she certainly preferred punishment if it was the way the punishment started…
She didn’t think about resisting, even for a moment, and at this point, it had nothing to do with the promise of a job … and everything to do with the way he was touching her in a way she had never experienced before.
And, the less that was said about the monster growing on his pants, one that she could feel clearly against her leg, the better…
Her new job had a striking start…
