Good Girl

It was a rarity that Dick Roman asked anyone other than his P.A. up to his office. You'd only just started your job at Richard Roman Enterprises as a temp secretary about a week ago and to have the man himself request to see you was scary to say the least. You knocked at his door timidly. "Come in," said a man's voice from within. There was a large mahogany desk in the center of the spacious room and perched on the corner was a tall man clad in black. His suit was nicely fitted and his hair was combed to perfection. He looked up at you with a beaming smile and you found it hard to breathe. "Y/N, isn't it?" You nodded.

"Yes, Mr. Roman," you replied in a timid voice. His smile widened and he got up.

"Please, call me Dick." You forced a smile on your face, trying to hide how nervous you were. "Have a seat," he said, indicating with an outstretched hand. You sat down quickly, your hands in your lap fiddling with the hem of your skirt. He casually seated himself on his desk again directly in front of you. He stopped smiling at you and looked down at your hands, eyeing them disdainfully. “And do stop fidgeting. If there's one thing I hate, it's fidgeting.” Your eyes shot up to meet his and your hands stilled.

“I'm sorry,” you replied. You had to admit, even in your somewhat frightened state, he was very attractive. Confidence was sexy and this man exuded it.

“That's a good girl,” he replied with a grin and you shivered. “You are a good girl, aren't you? That's how they all start out, you know? They all start out as good little girls,” he said, reaching a hand out to stroke your cheek. You froze, eyes locked with his. “But good girls are made to be broken and I intend to break you.” With that, he stood up and firmly gripped the back of your head causing you to gasp. His grinning face was inches from yours and you could hardly breathe as a faint smile came over your lips. As nervous as you were, there was a growing arousal bubbling up from deep within you. He pressed his lips to your ear. “I'm going to have you begging for me like the whore you are,” he said. You moaned softly and he grinned even wider before pulling you up from the chair and bending you over the desk. He pulled your skirt up just enough to run his hand over your sex, causing you to sigh softly and grind onto his hand. “Your cheeks are already flushed and you'd barely even been touched. Dirty slut,” he said in your ear, still firmly griping your hair in his hand.

“Dick, please...” you said in a lusty voice, turning slightly to look at him. He rubbed your sex again and you groaned.

“Oh, honey, we've only just started.”