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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“Please…” The word escaped unbidden once again, a desperate plea for mercy but also for more, for everything they had to offer. Despite the shame clawing at my insides, I couldn’t deny the intense arousal coursing through me.

I felt Joseph’s eyes on me. I wanted to show him… what? Submission? Obedience? Yes, but… independence, too? My mind reeled with the contrast for a moment, before the sensory storm of the gang bang ripped me back to the here and now of the coffee table, the office, and the three enormous men using me for their pleasure.

“Such a good little slut,” Louis murmured, his voice thick with lust as he pushed his cock against my lips. I opened eagerly, the taste of salt and musk filling my senses as I took him in, sucking greedily. The sensation of his cock sliding over my tongue, hitting the back of my throat, made my head spin with dizzying discomfort and arousal.

“Just a little whore, aren’t you, Ingrid?” Martin sneered, his hand tangling in my hair to guide my movements on his colleague’s penis. “Just a little cock-sucking whore.”

Whore, I thought helplessly, the word reverberating in my mind, stoking the fire between my thighs. I was their whore on loan, their borrowed plaything. My body responded with a fervor I couldn’t control, hips arching off the table, seeking contact, seeking release.

Kevin’s hands were relentless, his grip firm as he spread my knees even wider apart, exposing me completely. I felt his eyes devouring every inch of my exposed flesh, a predatory glint in his piercing gaze.

I whimpered, unable to suppress the desperate need building inside me. His fingers traced over my slick folds, teasing and torturing me before plunging deep within. My body arched off the coffee table, shamelessly seeking more.

“She needs it so bad,” Martin commented.

“Patience, little whore,” Louis interjected, changing his position to straddle my chest and keep thrusting his manhood between my lips. “You’ll get what you deserve in that wet cunt.” He pushed himself deeper into my mouth, filling it completely, muffling my cries of desperation.

Martin’s rough hand found its way to my own, wrapping my fingers around his throbbing erection. “Keep stroking,” he commanded, his voice a growl of raw desire. “Don’t stop.”

My head spun with the overwhelming sensations—Kevin’s fingers delving deeper, Louis’ cock stretching my mouth, Martin’s insistent guidance. I was drowning in a sea of lust and submission, barely able to keep track of who was where, doing what. All I could do was respond, surrendering completely to their demands.

“God, you’re tight,” Kevin groaned, finally replacing his fingers with the solid, pulsing length of his cock. He thrust into me with a force that sent shockwaves of pleasure through my entire being. I cried out around Louis, the sound muffled but unmistakable, as Kevin’s rhythm grew faster, harder.

“That’s it, take it all,” Louis encouraged, his tone both soothing and commanding. His words sent a new surge of lust through me, spurring me on to suck harder, deeper, my tongue swirling around him with eager abandon.

“Such a good little slut,” Martin said, his grip tightening around my hand, urging me to move faster. “You love this, don’t you? Being used like this?”

Yes, I thought, grateful that I didn’t have to speak it out loud. I could feel an orgasm building, an unstoppable tide rising higher and higher with each thrust, each stroke, each command. I was lost in a frenzy of sensation, every nerve ending alight with pleasure and pain.

“Fuck, I can feel it. She’s gonna come,” Kevin announced, his voice strained with effort and arousal. “She’s so close.”

“Let her,” Louis replied, his own voice thick with need. “Let our little whore come for us.”

And then it happened. My body convulsed, muscles tightening and releasing in a series of uncontrollable spasms. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over me, leaving me breathless and trembling. I lost count of how many times I came, each orgasm blending into the next in a haze of pure, unadulterated bliss.

Through it all, Joseph’s presence loomed large in my mind. I could feel his eyes on me, watching, evaluating, even as I surrendered completely to the junior executives. His control remained absolute, his power undeniable though the hands on me belonged to his minions.

Amidst the dark, forbidden ordeal, I felt valued. Loved, even. Joseph had orchestrated the punishment—all of it, the agony of the paddling and the degradation of the gang bang—as a way to show his care for me, as twisted as it might seem to anyone outside this office. My certainty of his unwavering gaze provided a strange sense of comfort, a reminder that I belonged to him, that I was his.

Submission. Obedience. And independence. Yes. Because with my own free will—without even the help of the compliance wand—I had accepted my master’s discipline. My master… my boss… the man I loved.


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