Story Script:

NARRATOR: The office is quiet, the last employees long gone. Lacey stands outside Dustin's door, heart pounding in that skintight outfit he picked for her. She knocks.

DUSTIN: Come in.

NARRATOR: His voice is low, commanding. She steps inside, the door clicking shut behind her. His eyes rake over her body, lingering on every curve the fabric clings to.

LACEY: You wanted to see me, sir?

DUSTIN: Sir? I think we can drop the formalities now. Call me Daddy.

NARRATOR: Her breath hitches as he stands, circling her like a predator. His fingers trace the outline of her waist, gripping hard enough to leave marks.

LACEY: I—

DUSTIN: Shh. Let’s see if you’re cut out for this job. Kneel.

NARRATOR: She hesitates, but something in his stare makes her sink to her knees. His thumb brushes her lower lip, pressing down.

DUSTIN: Open.

NARRATOR: She parts her lips, and he slides two fingers into her mouth, pressing down on her tongue.

LACEY: Mmph…

DUSTIN: That’s it. Good girl. Now let’s see how well you take my cock.

NARRATOR: He unbuckles his belt, freeing his thick, hard length. She whimpers as he grabs her hair, guiding her mouth onto him.

LACEY: *gagging* Daddy—

DUSTIN: Deeper. You’ll learn to swallow every inch.

NARRATOR: He thrusts into her throat, groaning as her lips stretch around him. Saliva drips down her chin as she struggles to keep up.

DUSTIN: Fuck, that mouth was made for this. Now beg for it.

LACEY: Please, Daddy… use me.

NARRATOR: With a growl, he pulls out, flipping her over the desk. His hand smacks her ass sharply before yanking the tight fabric aside.

DUSTIN: Such a pretty little cunt. Gonna ruin it.

NARRATOR: He slams into her, balls-deep, her scream echoing as he pounds her mercilessly.

LACEY: Oh fuck—Daddy!

DUSTIN: Say it again.

LACEY: Yes, Daddy! Whatever you want!

NARRATOR: With a roar, he spills inside her, his grip bruising on her hips as she trembles beneath him.

DUSTIN: Perfect fucking assistant. You’re mine now.