A Bîtch In Heat...

Kristi. I was a b***h in heat. A filthy little slut. That’s what I called myself the second I left Troy’s office, legs still shaking and his c*m slowly leaking down my thighs. I couldn’t stop thinking about his monstrous c**k. The way it stretched me open, the way it hit so deep I saw stars. Was that what he used to f**k his wife with? The thought made me bite my lip hard. God, I wished I had been his wife instead. I wished I was his permanent cumdump, available whenever that thick d**k got hard. He was my father’s best friend, for f**k’s sake. He wasn’t supposed to touch me. I wasn’t supposed to let him. I should have told Mom. Or Dad. Told them his best friend had bent me over his desk and ruined me because I’d sent him a video of me fingering my soaked p***y, moaning his name like a w***e. Was it betrayal? Or was it exactly what my greedy little cunt deserved? The next morning I woke up deliciously sore, the deep, aching throb between my legs making me smile before I even opened my eyes. My p***y was swollen and tender from the brutal way he’d f****d me. Faint silk burns marked my wrists from his tie. My neck still carried the reddened stripe from his belt. My ass stung sweetly where his palm had cracked across it again and again, and my n*****s were so sensitive the sheets felt like sandpaper. I stretched like a cat in heat, thighs sticky with the memory of him. Peter had texted me a sweet “good morning” like the clueless boyfriend he was. I replied with a heart emoji while my fingers slipped between my legs, circling my swollen c**t to the filthy replay of Troy flooding my womb. I rubbed myself shamelessly, chasing another orgasm like my entire body depended on it. Because it did. My p***y was addicted to his c**k now. I dragged myself out of bed and into the bathroom. The second I saw the bite marks and bruises Troy had left all over my skin, a fresh wave of heat rolled through me. I didn’t want them to fade. I wanted more. Thank God Mom and Dad had left for their business trip yesterday. No hiding needed. No pretending. Just me, aching and marked, already counting the hours until I could crawl back to him. By 8:45am, I was at the office, dressed like the eager new intern I was supposed to be—tight white blouse that hugged my braless boobs, a short black pencil skirt that barely covered the curve of my ass, and heels that made my legs look endless. No panties this time. The secretary showed me to a small desk outside Troy’s office, but before I could even sit, his deep voice rumbled through the intercom. “Kristi. My office. Now.” My heart slammed against my ribs as I stepped inside. He was behind the desk again, looking every inch the powerful CEOin his charcoal suit, silver hair perfectly tousled, eyes dark with that same predatory hunger from yesterday. The door clicked shut behind me. I locked it without being told. He stood slowly. “Take off the skirt. Show me that cunt I claimed.” I obeyed instantly, shimmying the skirt up and off, standing bare from the waist down in front of him. Cool air kissed my already dripping folds. Troy’s gaze dropped between my legs, and he smirked. “No panties? Good. Means you remember who owns that hole now.” He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a single sheet of paper, sliding it across the polished oak. “Read it. Then sign. This is our contract. You become my submissive intern—my personal fucktoy—starting today. There are no limits except the ones I set. You obey. You take what I give. You keep that pretty mouth shut about us to everyone, especially your father.” My hands trembled as I picked it up. The document was utterly thrilling. Clause after clause spelled out my new reality: - I would wear no panties at the office. Ever. Skirts only, so he could bend me over or finger me whenever he wanted. - I would be available for use—mouth, cunt, ass—anytime he demanded, even during work hours. - Rough s*x was mandatory. Spanking, choking, leashing, hair-pulling, degradation. I would address him as Sir or Daddy when we were alone. He could mark me, c*m in me, use me as a cumdump. - Weekly “performance reviews” on his desk or in the private bathroom. - I would keep f*****g my boyfriend if I wanted, but only after Troy had filled me first—so Peter would be sliding into his leftovers. But I doubt I would ever use it. I wanted to take it all.