Punching Bag

| 13 |

This could be a complete mistake, but it's the most subtle thing I could think of.

It's clear that my idea to seduce him and get close sexually has allowed me to be witness to meetings and business. So I need to commit to this. It would seem odd if I backed off now.

The elevator doors open. I seek out Townsend. I stop in the archway of the dining room, facing him as he sits down eating breakfast.

I'm wearing stockings that end mid-thigh, with a short tight black mini skirt. I have a button up shirt that I've left open, exposing a decent but still tasteful amount of cleavage. My hair is down and I have heeled knee high boots on.

He takes me in, I can tell he's noticed.

"Good morning." I say.

He nods in acknowledgement.

"I'll be working on the immediate data protection today. You need to start on the most inner level, and work your way to the first wall of defence." I'm just making random conversation now, trying to make an excuse to stay longer.

"Very good." He barely gives me anything back.

The space borderlines on awkward, at least for me. So I make myself scarce.

I work away the entire morning without an appearance from him. I stay at the table until my back feels tense and I need to get up and stretch. It's early afternoon at this point.

Maybe Townsend is waiting for me to act? The other interactions we've had have all basically been me making it known. Maybe he needs the reassurance or the push.

I wonder through the halls trying to find him. I can always use the looking for the bathroom excuse if he doesn't want me around.

I hear a noise coming from one of the rooms down the hallway. I make my way closer when I remember this is his office.

He's not speaking but I can hear him typing on his computer.

I round the corner to stand in the doorway.

"Hey. Mind if I come in?" I ask shyly.

He doesn't look up from his computer.

"Come in."

I move in to sit in the chair in front of his desk and wait for him to finish whatever he's typing.

He addresses me onces he done, giving me his full attention.

"Is everything okay Cora?"

I struggle whenever he looks at me. I instantly heat up. I cross my legs to gain at least a small amount of friction.

"I haven't seen much of you today." I offer.

"We're both working."

"I know. I guess I just thought we'd be around each other more."

A moment passes.

"Be direct Cora."

He asked this of me a few times now. Maybe this is what he likes. Honesty and transparency. Maybe he likes to reward. Or for people to fight for what they want. He wants people to want him.

I stand and come around the desk to him. I'm desperate to touch him. I lean next to him against the desk.

"You've not given me any attention. Which is what I want."

"You think you deserve it?" He holds eye contact.

I decide to push him.

"Yes."

He stands abruptly. He faces me, our bodies flush, pressing me further into the desk.

"You didn't strike me as the bratty type."

I take a breath.

"Don't neglect me then."

He traces his hand up my stomach and around the side of my breast. He reached his hand around the back of my neck before making a fist with my hair, tugging my head back slightly.

"You want me to fuck you." He says it as a statement rather than a question.

"Yes. I need it." I practically beg.

His other hand pushes up my skirt, and then slides into my underwear, finding me wet.

I can't stop the moan that comes out of me. This feeling is like nothing else. I crave it. I crave him.

He whispers close to my ear.

"You don't get to decide when you get fucked."

He rips his hands away from me and begins to walk away.

He's denied me my pleasure the last few times. The need has bubbled inside of me for so long now, nothing has been able to satisfy it.

Before I can even think to stop myself, my frustration gets the better of me.

"You scared of me or something?"

He stops.

He storms back over to me.

My eyes widen in fear. I've gone too far.

He forces me down on the desk. His hand around my throat, pinning me down. I scream in shock at the impact.

My brain can't catch up with what's happening. His other hand shoves up my skirt around my waist, then forces down my underwear, leaving me bare and exposed to him.

I gasp at the feel of the cool air. He covers my mouth with his hand, stifling my sounds.

Without warning, he thrusts himself into me and I cry against his hand.

It's painful. As wet as I am, I wasn't prepared. His cock feels bigger, he stretches me wider.

His thrusts are brutal, the friction is rough as my pussy clamps around him.

He doesn't say a word as he pounds into me relentlessly. Punishing me for my outburst.

Over and over he tears me open. The pain lessening after each pump, the pleasure breaking through.

He keeps covering my mouth, his other hand lifts one of my legs up so he can get deeper.

I scream louder, tears streaming down my face. It's too much. It's always been too much but I can't get enough. It's becoming an addiction.

At the sound of my sobbing, Townsend grunts and moans. Getting off on seeing me unravel beneath him.

I feel him fill me with his cum. The sensation bringing my long orgasm to a close. Finally letting my body have a break.

He doesn't release me straight away. He stays inside of me while he catches his breath.

Then he hits me. Slaps me across the face. Bringing me out from my trance.

"Don't question me ever again."

He tears himself from me. Leaving me splayed out in the desk. His cum seeping out of me.