Chapter 146
Chapter 146
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 146
Chapter Title: Office Lady Choi Yang
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Hello.
I'm Choi Yang, secretary to the president of Blue Sky Investment.
My day begins precisely at 6 a.m. with the alarm.
The moment it rings, I wake up without a second's delay, straighten the bedding with hotel-like precision, and head straight for the shower.
Before stepping into the shower stall, I pause in front of the full-length mirror.
Oh, the pubic hair has grown back a bit already.
Before the president—who prefers everything "bare"—throws a fit, I grab my razor with practiced ease.
A few swift strokes, and it's gone without a trace. I wipe away every drop of moisture and step out, only for a black cat to rub against my ankle.
It's the stray the president picked up on a whim.
I nudge it away with my foot out of annoyance, but it keeps nuzzling my leg—just like that bastard I know.
Do beasts of a feather flock together?
I ignore the cat in the end and open the fridge to grab a cooling pack.
Then I stick it right between my legs—precisely on my pussy.
Why put a pack on my pussy instead of my face?
It's all about maintaining my edge.
It's how I keep my value among the president's countless women.
That's my survival strategy.
My greatest weapon demands constant care.
Once the once-chilly pack warms to my body heat, I peel it off.
Then, sitting on the floor in front of the full-length mirror with my legs spread wide in an M-shape, I check my condition.
I took the president's cum last night, but there's not even a hint of swelling.
The skin, depilated to perfection for his tastes, is flawlessly smooth without a single blemish.
Thanks to my daily regimen for that competitive edge, even the pink hue is impeccable.
Unlike the president's other women—those sluts.
I nod in satisfaction and close my legs.
After inspecting my pussy, I pick up the enema solution.
The sensation of the lukewarm liquid flooding inside is honestly repulsive.
Why does that bastard love shoving things into the "shit hole"?
Like most women, I feel nothing from that side.
I consciously block out the discomfort and begin the final preparations.
Anal beads made of pearls the size of 500-won coins strung together.
I push them one by one into my asshole.
One... two... three... four... twelve...
The president says this process will turn my body into a backdoor addict.
But I doubt it.
It's just bullshit.
What choice does a working girl have?
If the boss says spread 'em, you spread 'em.
Finally, at twenty-one beads—tailored to my age—a large emerald plugs the entrance to my anus.
The madam gets diamond.
The vice president gets ruby.
I get emerald.
Real gems, not some cheap cubic zirconia.
I can never wrap my head around embedding jewels worth hundreds of thousands or millions into something like this.
Feeling the beads shift inside me at their whim, I angle my ass toward the mirror.
I spread my cheeks with my hands to check.
The green gem firmly seals my hole.
I nod in satisfaction.
Next preparation.
I pick up the custom-made dildo, shaped to fit my pussy perfectly.
No lube allowed.
The president hates anything but "natural juices."
So I slick the tip with my saliva and slowly slide it into my pussy.
The dildo, crafted to within 0.1mm of my vaginal shape, fills me completely.
A palm-sized plug covers from my clit to my perineum perfectly.
A flawless close-contact system with vibration functions.
The tip of this 300-million-won dildo presses right against my cervix, sending chills racing across my skin.
I force down the sensation and finally open my underwear drawer.
At twenty-one years old.
It's filled with lingerie utterly unfit for my age.
Not tacky stuff, but expensive sets and garter belts fit for a noblewoman.
This is part of my "work uniform."
To embody the dignity of the "perfect secretary," distinct from the vice president's vulgarity or the madam's ordinariness.
I pull out today's set: an ivory silk lingerie ensemble.
I slip on the delicate lace bra and adjust the garter belt around my waist.
Then I slide my legs into smooth silk stockings and clip them in place.
Cold beads and a dildo inside; elegant lingerie outside.
This bizarre combination completes me as the president's secretary.
All preparations done.
Over it all, I don yesterday's black suit.
Then I head off to prepare the president's breakfast.
Stepping out the officetel door in central Paju, my breath fogs white in the cold air.
The new year—and my next birthday—isn't far off.
Two years since I met the president.
And until my goal... eight more years to go.
Planning to retire at thirty, I dream of FIRE as I head to the underground parking.
There, the sports car worth hundreds of millions—gifted for a single ahegao face—awaits me.
One day, the president asked if I knew what "ahegao" was.
I said no.
He showed me a few photos and ordered me to mimic them.
I just followed orders.
The next day, this car was in my spot.
Sometimes I can't fathom his reward system.
I start the sports car. Time to head to my true master.
Five minutes' drive brings me to Heyri Village.
The grandest mansion there is the president's new home.
As my sports car passes the main gate, the female bodyguards at their posts bow naturally toward me.
Women older than me signaling submission.
The sight sends a thrilling shiver down my spine.
Kim Cheolsu Coin indeed. Rock-solid performance.
Expected return: lifelong freedom.
No safer investment in the world.
I park in the underground garage and enter the house.
Taking the elevator connected to the main building up to the first floor, I hear the madam humming.
She's preparing the president's breakfast, her flashy irezumi tattoos fully on display.
Lately, Blue Sky Investment has been making waves in the industry.
Thanks to our insane returns.
She doesn't look like the wife of an investment firm CEO just starting to buzz in financial circles.
But if it's the president's taste... what can you do?
I clear my thoughts and approach the madam with a morning greeting.
"Good morning, Madam."
"You're here, Choi Yang? I told you not to call me Madam. Call me sis."
"Yes, I'll be careful."
She gets off on "Madam" more than anyone, yet always says that.
I don't buy it.
"Sis" is just a line from her good-wife act.
I let the bullshit slide naturally and open my tablet to brief her on today's schedule.
"11 a.m.: OB-GYN appointment."
"1 p.m.: Painting class."
"2:30 p.m.: Piano lesson."
"4 p.m...."
"...8 p.m.: Dinner with the 'Madams.'"
As I finish her last schedule, the president returns home with the vice president.
I bow politely in greeting.
The president's hand smacks my ass.
Sexual harassment at breakfast is just how this company rolls.
Just eight more years.
With my retirement-at-thirty FIRE plan, I endure it all.
The president drags the madam—now in her stable phase with a slight baby bump—and the vice president into the bathroom together.
The door closes, and soon moans from two women echo out.
I stand in the living room, awaiting further orders.
That's my role.
The bathroom door opens, and the president emerges.
The madam and vice president follow behind him, faces flushed and dazed.
I glance at them briefly, then stand beside the president as he towels his wet hair.
I hand him a small remote and begin reporting his schedule.
"10 a.m.: Video conference with Blue Sky Games board. 2 p.m.: Call with Park Sojin regarding Shilla Biotech shares..."
Mid-report, the president's finger presses a button on the remote I gave him.
Instantly, the dildo inside me starts vibrating.
This custom 300-million-won tool, fitted to my vaginal walls within 0.1mm, clings perfectly.
Its tip assaults my cervix, goosebumps erupting across my body.
But I soldier on, reporting his schedule steadfastly.
No tremor in my voice.
"...Scheduled call with Park Sojin."
Shaking at this level would mean I'm no longer the perfect tool.
Eight years left.
I must remain flawless until then.
I suppress the faint quiver and finish the report.
"And 8 p.m.: Unofficial dinner with Assemblywoman Oh Sea from the New People's Party."
The moment "Assemblywoman Oh Sea" leaves my lips, the president's eyes narrow.
Listening to my report, he cranks the remote's vibration to max.
Suddenly, the dildo inside me goes berserk.
Stabbing my cervix like a weapon, while the plug over my clit delivers seizure-like shocks.
I bite my lower lip without thinking and twist my thighs to keep my legs from buckling.
But my report must end.
"...Dinner venue is a Japanese restaurant on the outskirts of Paju."
My voice quivers ever so faintly, but anyway—another day begins.