Semua Bab TABOO CRAVINGS: SHORT STEAMY STORIES OF LUST AND TEMPTATION: Bab 1 - Bab 10

“Good”he muttered pressing the head of his cóck against her mouth. “You want this job? You’re going to earn it, every measure of it”He pushed in slowly letting her lips stretch, her tongue flattening beneath his shaft. Emma gagged softly as the thick head slid past her teeth but she forced herself to hold still.“That’s it,” Mr. Carter growled gripping her hair tighter.“On your knees at my mercy just where you should be.”He pulled back, then shoved deeper making her choke. Saliva spilled down her chin, dripping onto her blouse.“Messy little thing” he said with a dark chuckle.“Your résumé isn’t worth shit but this mouth? This is exactly what I need in my office.”Emma whimpered humiliation burning her face but the heat pooling between her thighs betrayed her.Mr. Carter’s hand gripped her chin forcing her to look up at him. His cóck still hung heavy between them slick with her spit.“How far are you willing to go for this job Emma?” His voice was low and dangerous.“Be honest.”He

Emma’s body sagged against him, still trembling from her orgasm but Mr. Carter didn’t let her rest. He kept her upright, cóck buried deep, one hand wrapped around her throat while the other yanked her títs roughly.“Pathetic” he muttered twisting her nípple until she squealed.“Cumming for your boss like a cheap slút. What would the others in this office say if they saw you bouncing on my cóck dripping down your thighs?”Her face flamed. “Please… don’t…”Smack! His palm cracked across her cheek, sharp enough to sting.“Don’t what?” he growled.“Don’t tell the truth? That you spread your legs for your paycheck?That you’ll suck and fuck your boss whenever he snaps his fingers?”Emma whimpered, humiliation flooding her, but her pússy clenched around him again betraying her.Mr. Carter laughed darkly. “Look at you, your body fucking loves it. Getting slapped, spanked, used like a whore.These tits…” he squeezed her bréast hard, then bent his head to bite down on her nipple until she crie

The clock on her computer screen was a countdown to her own execution. 11:58 AM. Two minutes. For two hours, she had been living in a state of perpetual, low-grade panic. Every email was a jumble of letters. Every phone ring made her flinch. The fabric of her skirt against her bare skin was a constant, maddening reminder of his command. She was naked underneath, exposed and ready for him, even when he was miles away in his own corner of the office. Her body was no longer her own; it was a tool, waiting for its master.At 12:00 PM exactly, a soft chime from her computer signaled a new email. The subject line was blank. The body of the email contained only two words.My office.A fresh wave of moisture slicked her folds. It wasn't a phone call this time. It was an email. A digital trail. A record of her summons. The humiliation was more potent, more thrilling. She stood, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. Brenda from accounting looked over, a curious expression on her face.“B

The walk to her car was a journey through a new level of hell. Every step was a reminder of her debasement. The cool night air felt like a physical caress against her face, where the residue of his cum was drying into a tight, shameful mask. The words he’d written on her skin with the marker, though invisible to the outside world, felt like they were seared through to her bones. MR. CARTER'S CUM DUMP. FUCK HOLE. PROPERTY OF THE CEO. She was a walking, breathing testament to his ownership.The drive home was a blur of headlights and numbness. She sat in the driver's seat, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white. She caught a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror and flinched. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and haunted, her lips swollen. She looked like a victim. But the sick, twisting feeling in her gut wasn't just victimhood. It was a dark, thrilling current of arousal. She had been used, degraded, and marked, and a deep, primal part of her had l

They stayed in the bar for another hour, but for Emma, time had ceased to have any meaning. It stretched and warped, a surreal, dreamlike haze of champagne bubbles, low music, and the heavy, possessive weight of Mr. Carter’s hand on her thigh. He was the perfect companion charming, witty, and engaging. He discussed art and politics, his voice a low, cultured rumble that vibrated through her body. He pointed out influential people in the room, giving her whispered tidbits of their dirty secrets, a shared, conspiratorial intimacy that was both thrilling and terrifying. He was showing her off, not as a piece of meat, but as a prize, a beautiful, intelligent creature who was smart enough to appreciate his world. It was a subtle, seductive form of domination, and it was more effective than any brutal command.He made her finish her glass of champagne, the bubbles going to her head, making her feel light, dizzy, and dangerously pliant. Every so often, his hand would drift higher under her d