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119

ผู้เขียน: Lindsay
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2025-10-23 15:36:00

Watching Sia fight security like a rabid animal was peak corporate entertainment.

Two guys in cheap suits trying to restrain a woman who’d spent fifteen years perfecting the art of psychological warfare? Amateur hour.

She was screaming—actually fucking screaming—in the middle of Amsterdam’s most prestigious tech conference.

Every CEO, CTO, and trust fund baby with a LinkedIn account was witnessing the complete meltdown of my director of operations.

“You chose her!” Sia shrieked, clawing at the security guards like they were personally responsible for her decade-and-a-half of delusion. “That disobedient American bitch who can’t even follow simple orders!”

The irony was beautiful. Sia calling anyone disobedient while literally fighting police custody.

“She doesn’t deserve you, Eric! She doesn’t understand what you need!”

What I needed was for this psychotic breakdown to happen literally anywhere else. The networking oppo
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  • Bend me over, Professor    123

    POV Anaise “So this man took your coffee and made you his personal coffee maker? What the hell?” Maya’s voice cut through our apartment like a hot knife through butter, her dark eyes flashing with indignation. “He never notices you, never even tells you ‘good job’, and now he appoints another job to you? The one he paid his assistant to do?”I dropped my purse on the kitchen counter and shrugged, trying to look way more casual than I felt. “Well, it doesn’t really matter.”“You’re so down bad for him.”“I am not.”Maya snorted, crossing her arms over her oversized sweater. “Bullshit, Ana. Complete and utter bullshit.”Maya Patel had been calling out my lies since freshman year at college. We’d been randomly assigned as roommates. Me, the uptight finance major with color-coded everything, and her, the free-spirited art student who painted at three AM and left coffee rings on every surface.

  • Bend me over, Professor    122

    POV Anaise “You shouldn’t be here.”The words hissed out of me like steam from a broken radiator. My heart was hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat, in my fingertips, in the space behind my eyes.He looked exactly the same. His black leather jacket hung loose over a white t-shirt, and he was leaning against the reception desk like he owned the fucking place.“Isa.” “Don’t.” I stepped closer, lowering my voice to a murderous whisper. “Don’t you dare show up at my workplace to Isa me.”He straightened up, that crooked smile spreading across his face like oil on water. “He wants to see you.”“I know.” The words came out sharper than I intended. “But not here. I’ve told you this a thousand times—do not come to my work. Ever.”“Isa, listen—”“No, you listen.” I was practically vibrating with rage now. “I don’t care what he wants. I don’t care how urgent it is. You do not show up here and make me

  • Bend me over, Professor    121

    Part V POV Anaise“Someone moved my pen.”The words shot out of my mouth like bullets before the elevator doors even fully opened, my voice echoing off the pristine marble of the forty-seventh floor at exactly 5:30 AM. I was talking to absolutely no one. Just me and the rage that had been building in my chest since I’d walked into my office and found my Pilot Precise V5 sitting two inches to the left of where I’d placed it last night.Two. Fucking. Inches.“Someone was in my office,” I continued my one-woman psychotic break. “Someone touched my desk. Someone moved my pen, and when I found out who it was… I’m going to make them eat that pen cap-first while I recite the quarterly projections.”I was losing it. Completely, utterly, magnificently losing my shit over a pen that cost three dollars and forty-nine cents at Staples. But it wasn’t about the pen—it was about the principle. The sacred

  • Bend me over, Professor    120

    The way she looked at Sia wrecked me. Not with disgust. Not even with pity. With fear.Like she’d just seen a version of herself, fast-forwarded and hollowed out. Knees on a tile floor, mascara running, dignity shattered.“Master,” Sia had whispered like it meant something sacred. And I saw Floris flinch.I’d seen a thousand expressions cross her face in our time together—defiance, arousal, grief, rage. But this? This was something new. A quiet, dawning terror. Not of me. Of becoming her.And I hated it. “You’re nothing like her, Floris.”My voice cut through the silence between us as we crossed the parking lot. She didn’t respond right away. Just kept walking, chin high, like she could outrun the comparison playing in her head.“Right,” she said, sharp as glass. “Because I’m so different from every other woman who’s worked for you.”“You are different.”“How? Because I haven’t called you master yet? Give it time.”I stopped walking. The air

  • Bend me over, Professor    119

    Watching Sia fight security like a rabid animal was peak corporate entertainment. Two guys in cheap suits trying to restrain a woman who’d spent fifteen years perfecting the art of psychological warfare? Amateur hour.She was screaming—actually fucking screaming—in the middle of Amsterdam’s most prestigious tech conference. Every CEO, CTO, and trust fund baby with a LinkedIn account was witnessing the complete meltdown of my director of operations.“You chose her!” Sia shrieked, clawing at the security guards like they were personally responsible for her decade-and-a-half of delusion. “That disobedient American bitch who can’t even follow simple orders!”The irony was beautiful. Sia calling anyone disobedient while literally fighting police custody.“She doesn’t deserve you, Eric! She doesn’t understand what you need!”What I needed was for this psychotic breakdown to happen literally anywhere else. The networking oppo

  • Bend me over, Professor    118

    I hated conferences.Crowded rooms. Buzzwords echoing off glass and steel. People shaking hands like that alone made them powerful. It was all a performance. Theater for the desperate. And yet here I was, standing beside a goddamn holographic model of our latest surveillance AI while pretending I gave a shit about “revolutionizing behavioral pattern recognition through predictive modeling.”Sia stood to my left, perfectly composed as always. Polished in her navy sheath dress, iPad in hand, posture like royalty. No one would’ve guessed she’d nearly exploded two nights ago in my office. That she’d accused Floris of seduction, manipulation, betrayal. No one would’ve guessed I still didn’t believe her. But I hadn’t had the time to chase the truth.Not when the board was watching. Not when the future of Brighton Systems was hanging on this ridiculous trade-floor performance.I nodded through a conversation with a CTO from Stockholm when I felt Sia tense bes

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