His Naughty Secretary – Corporate Correction Read Online Emily Tilton

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 58185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
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“Go ahead and sit down, gentlemen,” Joseph told them. “I thought it was only fair you should have a role to play in Ingrid’s punishment, since she embarrassed all of us today.”

My face burned as the three big men took their seats on Joseph’s sleek leather couch, their expressions a mix of anticipation and dominance. My heart pounded so loudly I feared they could hear it.

“Strip,” Joseph ordered, turning to me. His voice sliced through the air like a whip.

I stood frozen for a long moment, my hands hovering in front of my chest, quivering. My resolve had vanished completely in the face of the junior executives’ stark, lustful gaze.

“You accepted the punishment, sweetheart,” Joseph said, his voice condescending, slightly mocking. “Do I need to get the compliance wand out?”

I heard, in his tone, the game beginning again. The shudder that went through my limbs had as much desire in it as fear.

“No, sir,” I told him, still looking at the men on the couch. Suddenly, without any warning, I found myself thinking about their cocks: about how I could make them hard—how I would make them hard. How they might even be hard already, just at the thought of watching a naughty secretary get what she deserved.

My hands shook as I reached for the zipper of my dress, but the hesitation had gone. As the fabric slid down my body, exposing the lacy black lingerie Joseph had given me, memories of how he had chosen each piece with meticulous care flooded my mind. The bra, garter belt, panties, nylons—all designed to tantalize and tease.

“Faster,” Joseph snapped, his impatience palpable.

I fumbled, my fingers betraying my nerves. The dress pooled at my feet, leaving me vulnerable, exposed. My cheeks burned with humiliation, but underneath it all, the hot forbidden pulse of the game coursed through me.

“Good girl,” Joseph murmured, his gaze raking over my nearly naked form.

I felt their eyes on me, burning into my skin, consuming me with their desire and dominance.

“Remember why you’re here,” Joseph said, his voice softer now, almost a caress. “You caused embarrassment, and now you must face your own.”

“Yes, sir,” I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and arousal.

Joseph turned to the junior executives, his team. “Gentlemen, observe closely. Ingrid is about to learn a valuable lesson.”

Terror gnawed at my insides but my heart warmed with another realization of the depth of his care for me. The punishment, the humiliation—he really did mean it to help me, to mold and shape me into someone stronger, someone better.

“Remove your panties and give them to me,” Joseph’s command cut through the heavy silence with an authoritative growl that sent a new shiver down my spine. My face burned with humiliation, my fingers trembling as they hooked into the delicate lace at my hips.

“Yes, sir,” I whispered, barely audible, feeling the weight of every gaze fixed on me. Slowly, agonizingly, I slid the black panties down my legs, my skin prickling with the cold air and the heat of their collective stares. Finally I stood with the cleft of my smooth pussy exposed to their lewd gazes, framed by the garter belt and its suspenders. I handed the fragile garment to Joseph, a humiliating offering in front of Kevin, Louis, and Martin.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his tone full of authority and approval, making my heart race. He took the panties from my quivering hand and tucked them into his pocket, a possessive gleam in his icy eyes. “Now, bend over my desk.”

My reason recoiled at the thought, yet the hot, dark thrill coursed through me nevertheless, arising from and then mingling inextricably with the shame. I turned slowly, trying to steady my breath. The polished wood and leather of Joseph’s desk loomed before me like an altar of submission.

I reached it on halting steps. I bent over, stretching my hands across the cool surface, my knees instinctively pressing together in a futile attempt at modesty.

“Spread your feet,” Joseph’s voice demanded, each word a lash of control. My legs wobbled as I shuffled them wider, my body quivering with the mix of need, mortification, fear. The dark polished wood beneath my fingertips felt like ice against my heated skin.

“Perfect,” Joseph declared, satisfaction evident in his voice. “Gentlemen, why don’t you get up and come closer so that you can have a look at this pretty cunt and this tight little anus.”

My mortification soared to unimaginable heights as I heard them obey. I heard them moving toward me, felt their eyes devouring the sight of my exposed body. I sensed their gazes burning into me, with a heady mixture of lust and aggression. The air felt thick with forbidden sexuality, the room alive with the terrible promise of what lay in store for me.

“See how she trembles,” Joseph commented, his voice a dark caress. “The embarrassment fuels her arousal. Isn’t that right, Ingrid?”


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