Surrendered to My Boss in the Paris Atelier Basement

Monday afternoon, the atelier in the 6th arrondissement empties out. J. pulls me aside after the supply run. His body presses behind mine between shelves, hands gripping my waist. I arch back, let out a soft moan, feel his hardness against my ass. Heart races. We talk dirty on the drive back. ‘Stay till 5,’ he growls.

Lunch break, phone vibrates. I call you, voice shaky. ‘Do I go through with it?’ Yes, I want this. Your excitement fuels mine. Fear and thrill mix. At 5, last intern leaves. J. leads me downstairs to the dim basement workroom. Smells of fabric, leather, his musky cologne hits me finally, sharp and male. Door clicks shut upstairs. Alone.

The Approach: Tension Ignites After Hours

He pins me from behind, hands rough on hips, ass. Lifts my strict black dress. Slides down my red silk thong, fingers brush my wet slit. ‘Touch yourself, slut,’ he orders, voice low, praising my beauty too. I obey, legs spread on the stool. He kneels, tongue dives into my pussy, lapping slow then hungry. ‘So fucking delicious.’ Fingers in my mouth, I suck hard. My hand gropes his bulge through pants. Love him clothed, me exposed.

He strips me naked, bends me over the table. Ass up, holes offered. Tongue rims my pussy, anus. Fingers probe deep. ‘Arch more, bitch.’ Slaps sting my cheeks, skin burns hot. He spreads me wide, devours. Fingers twist in my ass, three now. I cry out, he muffles with his palm. Pulls my hair back, owns me. Edge of pain, pure rush. Suddenly stops. I dress, flee to you.

You wait at my place. I ditch panties, wait naked on bed. You lick my still-swollen pussy as I spill details. Your cock throbs, but I’m lost in dark haze after. Next day, dodge J. But two days later, he asks again. I hesitate, call you. ‘Suck him, no fucking,’ you say. 2pm, he wants me to stay. Voice trembles, but pussy aches. 6:15pm call: left interns, heading back. Your worry spikes mine.

The Explosion: Raw Submission and Forbidden Release

Basement again. Strip on command, wait naked. Chills pebble skin, juices drip. Blindfold on. He spins me, disorients. Fingers ghost belly, pubes, back. Grabs hair, forces knees. Cock rams throat, no warning. ‘Suck hard, whore.’ Deep, relentless. Gags, tears under blindfold. Endless.

On all fours. ‘Arch higher, present that ass.’ Slaps echo, thighs blaze. Cock slams pussy, bare, brutal. Fucks like animal, hand on neck, other waist. Flips me table-top, legs wide. Fingers ass again. ‘No anal yet,’ I gasp. ‘Next time, you’re mine there.’ Pounds harder, fills me with hot cum. Body wrecked, owned.

Phone vibrates later. You wait. I return changed. Days pass. Can’t face it. Ghost you. Lied about that night. Didn’t fuck? Bullshit. J. consumed me. Couldn’t handle your game, or mine. Broke us clean. Puit du dragon, summer 2007. Gone.