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The cold, uncompromising wooden desk gave nary any comfort to the ingenue's back or backside. Her shoulder blades ached from the rise and fall of her back; still, it was better than her bare legs shivering. She raised herself up to look down over the edge at the source of her toe-curling torment, huffing hot breaths and swallowing squeaks as she ventured a glance.
He'd left his glasses on; the amber tint stood in stark contrast to her own pale skin and pitch-black coarse curls. His eyes were closed, all too focused on his task at hand -- just as would be expected of a professional of his caliber. After all, one didn't become the favored candidate for the next Prime Minister without cunning, determination, and a silver tongue.
Shido Masayoshi knew this girl’s type the moment she applied for an internship with him. The pitch-black tights that covered her up yet drew attention to her shape, the endless buttons on her tight pastel blouse, the unadorned sheet of long hair without a single split or flyaway, the skirt that was one centimeter too short -- she was a perfectionist, a coquette, an attention whore that would melt like butter under the right conditions. Her pristine, effete aesthetic was a facade that would pass by the uninitiated without a second thought -- but not him. A skilled politician and leader always knew what motivated others.
Right now, that silver tongue was applying lascivious attention -- so much attention -- to the girl’s swollen, aching clit. Its tip swirled circles and figure eights over her, savoring the sweet, musky juices that soaked into his tongue. With a cocky huff, the man sealed his articulate mouth firmly over his intern’s clit, sucking it with a light, practiced pressure, flicking his tongue as he worked. He knew she’d been with a few boys -- a girl comfortable with flirting with a man over twice her age obviously had a few boyfriends, maybe even some serious guys -- but from the way her thighs trembled and slammed against his ears, she’d never been with a man.
And this man was about to enforce the consequences of her breach of protocol.
Shido removed himself from her cunt, giving her a warning glare as his lips pressed together with bemused disdain. He brought a warm hand to her mound, petting it. When he pressed his index and middle fingers into her skin, she whined, almost whimpering at the sensation.
“Please--”
“I told you not to touch me.” The lawyer’s voice was smooth, quiet, yet stern. He pressed around that sensitive area again, watching as she bit her lip, eyes struggling to stay open to prove she could handle this. Shido knew she was in over her head, but she clearly was still intrigued -- after all, she hadn’t said stop. “Is this too much for you?”
She shook her head, still trembling. “N-no. I can-- ah!”
Another press, a little harder than before. “I’m only doing this because you asked so nicely.”
She gulped back her anxiety. Shido smirked; that did the trick. She explained, “It just feels like too much...”
“Does it, Hayashi-san?”
Shido’s professional, steady voice carried a sharp edge. The girl -- barely 22 -- shivered, flinching at his gaze. Maybe it was that she was naked in an air-conditioned office, but deep down, she knew what was making the thin hairs on her body stand on end: this wasn’t what she thought it would be. Not after the lunch dates where he spoke to her about how he started in politics, not after his advice on what courses to take as she finished her studies, not after their secured messages where he said she was a lovely woman -- this felt different. Not bad, but certainly wrong. Still, she was no novice, and she knew when someone was giving her a challenge.
She clutched tighter at the edge of the desk, digging blunt nails into the wood, and shook her head. There was no need to be afraid; Shido-san was a good man.
Shido smiled a bit too widely, giving a glint of bright teeth. He patted at her thigh, stroking it almost affectionately. “Good,” he soothed. “Spread your legs wider.”
There was the voice Hayashi recognized: confident, assertive, almost warm. It was his lucid, grounded speeches that kindled her girlish crush on the man, after all -- and without a second thought, her thin legs were splayed akimbo, exposing her flushed, wet pussy to his view.
"You know," Shido mused as he stared up at his intern and plaything, "There aren't many people I'd kneel to." His voice was playfully melodious, but still low and smoky. The girl felt suddenly warm with humiliation and gratitude --
A sticky, squelching sound stopped her from even attempting a response. Shido's index and middle fingers had pushed and slipped their way inside of her. The sudden heat and stretch -- the way he curled his fingertips upward -- burned any coherent, articulate thoughts out of her head. All she could do was whimper, helpless.
Shido smirked and chuckled under his breath as his digits moved slowly and fluidly in and out. He chuckled under his breath, knowing his pace was excruciatingly slow. A professional always does his craft with a style, after all -- and this professional intended to make his plaything utterly subservient. His fingers glided deftly from side to side, stretching and testing her as he probed. He watched her face critically, admiring his work.
Hayashi wasn’t new to being fingered, but something about Shido’s machinations were maddening. Her eyes were slammed shut on the edge of tears, whimpering for release. She bit at her lip, desperate to stave off the rasps that simmered in her throat. Her legs shook, and before she could stop herself, the intern found herself bucking back into his fingers. This had gone on for too long -- she needed to cum.
“Hnnh--”
“Bold,” Shido teased. He’d picked a good one: just sweet enough that she’d never ruin his reputation, but enough of a slut to be fun. He twisted his fingers inside her, pads to her uppermost walls, and sank in, looking for that one sweet spot. Once he found it, he pushed, thrusting in and out of her roughly.
She couldn’t hold it anymore. She slid onto her back again, overwhelmed, and brought her hands to her mouth to stifle a scream of pleasure. Her back arched, her legs trembled, and a knot of heat and pressure between her thighs threatened to burst--
"Why are you holding back?" Hayashi swore he could read her mind. "You're fucking yourself on me, after all…"
He knew why, of course, but that wasn't the point. Her resilience was admirable, but he knew her limits more than she did. One of the benefits of years of experience with willing social climbers and people-pleasers. He knew the way to get what he wanted.
When Shido brought his thumb to her clit, Hayashi finally broke.
"Fuck," she gasped, shocked at her own profanity. "Oh my God, oh my God--"
"Not my name," Shido taunted, "but that's fine."
Something about the arrogance, the confidence with which he spoke -- the control of it all -- she couldn't refuse anymore. Her right hand desperately found its way to her clit, and in a few seconds -- humiliatingly sparse seconds -- she heard the telltale sound of wet lips and flesh as she gushed on his fingers, body seizing up as she looked down as the mess.
"That's right." Shido praised, seemingly unphased by the damp spot on his carpet or the fluids soaking the fingers he'd finally removed from her. She looked at his eyes -- what was he going to do?
Shido rose from his kneeling position and towered over the thin, shivering girl on his desk. She flopped like a breathless, freshly caught fish as she tried to ride out a full body orgasm: wishing for relief while still unable to process what was happening to her. He loved watching her squirm; his cock strained against his formal slacks, throbbing at the sight of her splayed open and flushed for him.
The intern's trance was finally broken by the sound of a belt buckle coming loose, a belt falling to a floor, and a zipper being undone. They weren't done -- how could she think they were done? The politician was stroking himself, smearing the precum that oozed from his cock along the shaft. No wonder he was so calm and confident, Hayashi thought as she looked at his dick, that thing had to be 20, 21 centimeters at least, and thick.
Shido coughed to clear his throat. His voice was polite -- jarringly formal -- as he gestured to the desk. "Hayashi-san, please move the guest chair and stand where it was."
Hayashi shivered as she struggled to get back on her feet. That was her boss's voice -- she had to comply. She felt his eyes raking over her body as she shakily ambled, pushing the chair to the corner of the room next to a wastebasket filled with three empty half-liter water bottles in a hurry. She hopped to the front of the desk where Shido waited.
He stood behind his desk, arms folded over his chest, examining his charge critically. She shivered under his glare, struggling to meet his eyes. Maybe it was Shido's smirk, maybe it was that he was still mostly clothed, maybe it was something in his eyes -- but Hayashi was turned on and intimidated.
"Bend over my desk," Shido ordered.
Sure enough, the up and coming law student and intern followed her boss's command without a word. She bent over, letting her breasts and torso press to the clammy desk. Pressure jolted and pooled between her legs; her pussy was fine with getting filled, but…
Warm, big hands suddenly grasped at her from behind. His lotion-soft but still rugged hands kneaded at her ass, spreading her open. She shuddered, almost afraid -- they weren’t prepared for that. Judging by the pleased grunt that fell from his lips, he was at least considering it. After giving his intern enough of a scare, Shido slid his left hand to her hip as his right hand worked to ready himself at her entrance. Teasingly, the man rubbed the head of his cock over her hole, slipping along those wet inner lips. His belt, formal pants, and underwear were around his ankles, but he didn’t intend on doing too much walking at this point.
“Ah!” she gasped, nearly shrieking.
He couldn’t help but chuckle; she was sopping wet, probably still a little overstimulated. No matter. “You probably have...what, two more?”
Two? He was going to do all that to her again twice? Hayashi’s legs quivered from a mix of fear and anticipation, but any worry certainly didn’t show as she spoke. “ Fuck, please--”
“Vulgar,” her boss taunted smoothly, half insult and half praise. He gave his brave employee -- this smart but amorous young woman -- a pat to the head, petting her hair. It was a small, almost dehumanizing act of kindness, and the only thing close to affection the man could ever give. “Spread yourself open.”
She couldn’t think -- all she could do was feel and act. Her hands found their way to her still aching pussy’s lips and pulled them apart just enough to give him easier access. Her shoulder blades pinched together, but she didn’t dare disobey. Plus, the way his head was threatening to press into her gave her ample motivation to comply.
Without another word, Shido brought his hands over her hips and began sinking into her heat. His eyes fluttered shut, and rolled back for a moment as he allowed himself this indulgence he’d earned. Even in his selfishness, Shido was deliberate, moving slowly but never stopping. He intended to make her take him to the hilt.
Hayashi’s hypersensitive cunt struggled to accommodate him, clenching over his length like a vise. She gasped, eyes widening as centimeter by centimeter probed and stretched at her walls. She removed her hands from her lips, instead desperately gripping the front of her boss’s desk to steady herself as jolt after jolt of pain and pleasure shot through her body. Why wasn’t he thrusting?
More pressure was building in her core: heat, arousal, and a fullness she didn’t want to acknowledge. With her torso pressed to the desk and Shido’s cock stuffing her cunt, Hayashi could barely hold it anymore. She shimmied, legs desperately trying to move to make the urge more bearable, but there was no escape. Was this his plan the whole time?
“What’s wrong, Hayashi?” Either this man could read minds, or he’d done this plenty of times before. Either way, it got her strangely hot.
“It’s too much…”
“What’s too much?” His voice was almost compassionate, but she knew his goal: he was going to make her say it.
Fuck. It was his plan. Part of her wanted to scream at him, but his cool voice and steady hands had her too undone. “Nhhn--”
“Talk.”
“I need to cum--” She needed some kind of release.
“Hmph. Told you you had two more.”
Shido withdrew himself almost entirely before starting up his work. His strokes were teasingly slow, filling her just halfway instead of to capacity. With each thrust, he swayed just enough to stretch her a little wider than his own girth. Sure enough, his plaything huffed hot breaths, sighing and squeaking with need and desperation. She even tried to buck back into him, eager to get more of him inside of her. The slow torture had Hayashi drooling and choking back tears.
After what seemed like a hundred years, Shido finally indulged his fun little intern. His fingers dug deeply into her hips as he picked up the pace, thrusts becoming more intense and deeper. Her shallow rasps became a mix of choked, sobbing moans; her toes cracked too, curling too hard from the pleasure that threatened to overwhelm her.
The clean, almost sterile room’s professional veneer cracked with every squelch of Hayashi’s heat, every grunt, and every smack of Shido’s balls to her cunt. When the politician bottomed out in her, she finally screamed, shuddering with another orgasm that squeezed him out.
He held his glistening, slick cock at her entrance and waited. “What’s wrong?” He taunted. Of course he knew what the issue was, but there was something fun about watching this consummate professional struggle to say what was happening. What did she think he was hoping for when he offered her those bottles?
“If you keep doing that, I’m…” Her voice was watery, and she hissed, sucking in breath through clenched teeth.
“You’ll...what,” he purred, pushing his cock back inside of her. “Cum? You already did.”
“N-no! You know…” Hayashi’s face was flushed deep red with arousal and humiliation. Was he really going to make her say it? She had to admit that it did make everything feel so much more intense -- she hadn’t come this hard in a long time -- but --
“Stop trying to stay in control here.” Her commitment to maintaining composure was admirable. It was the same quality in her that made him hire her -- and what made him pursue her. She was discreet, knew how to read the mood, and certainly knew how to keep a secret. Or else, he thought, her career would be over before it started. “There’s no point.”
With that simple statement of truth, Shido placed his hands once more on her hips, grabbing hard enough to elicit a groan from the girl beneath him, and pounded into her, punctuating his rhythm with deep stabs to the hilt. The desk creaked and shuffled against their combined weight; he was going to make her come undone, no matter what it took.
Every stroke, every precise sway of his hips, every deep thrust made her pussy stretch and clench over his length and sent pulses of pleasure and pressure through her. She moaned with a hoarse throat, squeaking at times through the dryness. The muscles in her calves were ready to give out, and she was almost certain she’d have bruises on her hips from his hands and the desk.
“Oh my god, oh fuck--” The fullness in her cunt and the fullness in her bladder finally, finally gave way: she shrieked as her walls contracted violently, causing her to shudder. Her fingers trembled and tapped against the desk, and her legs shivered uncontrollably. Hayashi whimpered as the shaking continued, obviously conscious of her shame: small trails of urine streaked her thighs and slid across her legs, pooling into a wet mess that soaked the carpet as she rode out her orgasm. The sense of climax and release made her eyes roll back in her head.
Shido removed himself from her and placed a steady hand on her head, stroking her hair as she rode out her orgasm. He loved seeing this part: the overload, the mess, the sheer submission to what he asked for and wanted. And most of all, he loved being proven right. Once Hayashi had stilled, Shido tugged at her hair to get her attention. They weren’t done.
“On your knees,” Shido ordered as he moved to the side of the desk. His voice was more urgent, thicker with lust and impatience.
Hayashi, for her part, was grateful for the break; her legs ached from being on her toes. Still in a daze, she managed to comply, practically collapsing in front of his cock. She didn’t even need to be told what to do: she stroked his cock with a practiced ease, licked her lips, and took his head into her mouth. In her post-orgasm haze, she didn’t care about the taste of her own juices or piss in her mouth; she lavished his cock with attention, licking at the still-sticky skin and sucking in her cheeks as she took him centimeter by centimeter down her throat.
Shido brought his hand to her hair, guiding her. He sighed with satisfaction, praising, “Mm. That’s right, get all of it.”
Something about the way he spoke lit her blood on fire. With that spark, Hayashi enthusiastically sunk down on him, eventually hitting the back of her throat. Thick streams of spit oozed from her lips and soaked into his skin; she hummed, choked, and eventually slid up and away from his length.
Not discouraged, the 22-year-old decided to take the opportunity to put her diligent tongue to use. She lapped at his head, giving special attention to the eye, and traced the vein along his shaft with her tongue.
“Yeah, get the balls too,” he directed. Effortlessly, she compiled, sinking down lower and dragging her tongue flag against his sack. His grip on her hair intensified and he grunted, directing her to his taint and eventually to his ass. He let her go once he knew she took the hint.
He could ask for anything and get it. He knew this definitely wasn’t the first time for her, not by the way she had teased him at their dinners, winked at his suggestion for a private meeting, stripped with ease in his office, and asked no questions. She wanted a good time with someone powerful; she was a people pleaser.
“Oh...yes,” Shido sighed as her agile tongue swirled over that pucker. “That’s right.” His right hand stroked eagerly at his dick as she worked, getting precariously closer with each second. To think she was complaining about having to hold back when he hadn’t even gotten off yet. So ungrateful, he mused.
After a few seconds, he couldn’t master himself anymore. “C’mere and open your mouth,” he rasped. Without a word, Hayashi compiled, thankful to be away from the sweaty skin. Her spit-glossed lips parted and she stuck out her tongue, all too ready and willing.
A rough, ugly groan tore from Shido’s mouth as he jerked himself into that pretty little hole, spurts of thick cum coating her lips and tongue. Just like the experienced social climber he knew she was, she lapped up every bit of it without complaint or word. Judging from her dazed expression and hazy eyes, she was still in something like subspace. Well, good for her.
A few seconds passed as both of them caught their breath. Ever the professional, Shido made quick work of redressing himself, pulling up his boxers and pants and replacing his belt without much effort. He took a quick glance at his watch -- he still had 20 minutes before his next appointment, which he’d need if that hazy heap of a girl on the floor was any indication. Not to mention the mess.
He shook his head, brushed off his suit jacket, and walked to the door. Without even looking at her, Shido ordered in that gentle, smooth, but authoritative voice, “Hayashi-san, please prepare this office for my next appointment before you leave. I need to excuse myself for a moment.”
Hayashi was a puddle of overloaded, over-fucked, overenthusiastic young woman. If Shido was so intelligent and knowledgeable, he certainly would know she needed aftercare. Was it just that he was busy? Certainly, someone like Shido wouldn’t be so calloused, right? Unfortunately, Hayashi had overestimated his humanity once his own needs.
Shido strode out of his office, shut the door tightly behind him, and made the quick turn of the corner --
Bang!
He impacted with another body, papers and suitcase suddenly flying all over the place.
The politician knew that obnoxious suitcase anywhere. He sneered, “Akechi?! What are you doing here?!”
“I wanted to make sure I was on time,” he lilted.
“Get out!”
Goro, knowing his boss and father’s outbursts, was wise enough to say nothing. He simply grabbed his belongings, made a token gesture of apology, and walked past him to the exit.
The detective caught the scent of urine, musk, and semen, and only thought one thing: He’s got another intern. Better make sure to show up on the dot next time.