Taking Responsibility
Once the mood really started to pick up, her actions and tone grew bolder.
"This won't do, will it, Ms. Ji-yoon? Isn't your promotion review coming up soon? Can you really afford to be like this? You need to make good money, right? Your mother's in the hospital, isn't she?"
With a soft rustle, she quietly seized the hem of her impeccably pressed suit jacket from behind, manufactured an unassailable weakness, and offered it up to me like a sacrifice.
"I-I'm sorry, sir…"
Ji-yoon turned her face and gaze away from me, her expression frozen, gripping her other arm as she struggled to suppress her fury and shame.
"If you stay on my good side, wouldn't that help your chances at the next promotion?"
Even as I said it, I thought, God, that's straight out of a pervert-boss scene in a cheap porn.
"Then how should I show my sincerity, sir?"
When she read my intent and asked, unprompted, what she should do next, my excitement rose all on its own.
"See, that's why I like you, Ji-yoon. You're sharp. Well, first of all… thanks to that lewd body of yours, my, ahem, my cock's gotten a little swollen. I'd say you need to take responsibility for that, don't you?"
"…Understood."
"I'll be sitting on the sofa. Think it through carefully."
True to my word, I settled onto the sofa, draped both arms arrogantly over its back, spread my legs wide, and brazenly displayed the hardened bulge straining beneath my trousers.
Ji-yoon strode over, then knelt demurely before my crotch and hesitated for a moment.
Her hands clenched tight around the hem of her skirt — as if to endure the absurdity of it all — and I could see her swallowing her anger behind an expressionless face, biting down on words I couldn't see.
Even knowing it was all a performance, watching a human being compelled to submit before power soaked me in a sense of superiority that someone like me could never have tasted in a lifetime.
"Ms. Ji-yoon, let's be perfectly clear about this. Am I sexually harassing you right now? No, I'm not, am I? You're doing this of your own free will. I'm not holding a knife to your throat, am I? Hm?"
"…That's correct, sir. This is… this is my own will."
"Right, it's your will."
"Yes, that's right…"
"Then go on, Ms. Ji-yoon. Do your best, of your own free will. Your future at this company — and your mother's life in that hospital bed — depends on it."
"Yes, sir…"
Packing her emotions away as deep as they would go, Ji-yoon unbuckled my belt with a dead, mechanical expression and pulled down my trousers and underwear.
My swollen cock sprang free, and the stench of a morning spent out and about wafted up — rank enough that even I could smell it.
"Ugh…!"
Ji-yoon flinched back with an unmistakable grimace, then swiftly wiped the disgust from her face and stared at my cock, motionless.
At first I wondered what was happening, but I quickly recognized that gaze — the same ravenous look the monster had fixed on my cock so many times before.
Drip.
A rope of hot saliva slid from the corner of Ji-yoon's mouth and landed on my thigh, and her pupils began to shift, slowly, into the monster's crimson.
"Ah — hot!"
"Mmph."
Only when I flinched at the unexpected heat did Ji-yoon snap back to herself, hurriedly swallowing the drool that had been running down her chin.
"I'm sorry, sir… the smell was so good — no, so foul… that is, no… I'll continue."
For a moment she stumbled over her words, the monster's mind colliding with Ji-yoon's, then smoothed her expression back into place, parted her lips, and leaned in to take me into her mouth — only to jerk back again.
I understood why: she was afraid she'd lose her senses to my cock all over again.
So instead of her mouth, she reached out, wrapped both hands around my cock, and began to stroke it, slowly.
Losing out on a blowjob stung at first, but the way those hands worked me — practiced and skillful, a stark contrast to the fury burning on her face — changed my mind fast.
She gripped the whole length of me in her palms, reading every live, twitching reaction like handling a skittish animal, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, modulating the pressure with uncanny precision.
Being touched by a woman's hands for the first time carried a strange charm, a pleasure all its own, distinct from a blowjob or from sex itself.
"Ms. Ji-yoon, where do you think you're looking? How do you expect to show proper sincerity like that? Hm? Get your head in the game."
When I smirked and called out her habit of turning her face away to hide her expression from me, she tore her eyes from somewhere off to the side and brought them back to me.
This time she didn't bother hiding her rage — she narrowed her eyes and glared, and I flinched, cowering obediently.
And yet, something hidden deep inside me stirred and writhed.
Ji-yoon didn't miss that reaction. She watched it, then suddenly spoke.
"Sir."
"Uh — yes? What is it?"
The beautiful woman's expression shifted, subtle and precise, from fury into contempt and revulsion, and she said, low and quiet:
"You're trash."
Something inside me stirred again.
"What…"
"I said you're trash. …Does it feel good, making your subordinate do this kind of thing?"
She pressed in like a sudden ambush, and thrown off by the turn I hadn't anticipated, all I could do was gape and stammer.
W-why all of a sudden…
Still glaring, Ji-yoon let her gaze slide slowly down toward my cock, then lifted her eyes back up to mine.
"Sir. Why has your cock gotten even harder? I curse you out, call you trash, and it seems to grow even bigger?"
"No, that's, um, I mean, that's…"
"You disgusting pervert… a piece of human garbage, lower than a cockroach."
While I fumbled for words, she fired off another round laced with contempt and revulsion, a mocking smile now curving at the corners of her mouth.
"…Tch."
"Care to explain the hard-on, sir? Don't tell me our dear boss… is getting turned on by my insults right now?"
The moment she realized what had aroused me, I realized what she was aiming for.
Squeeze.
"Ngh!?"
Abruptly she stopped her gentle stroking and seized my cock in a crushing grip.
"What's the matter, sir? I'm giving you my sincerest hand service right now… Is something wrong?"
When I gasped and panted under the exquisite pain, she asked again, her mockery now unmistakable, her tone sweetly insolent.
Then Ji-yoon rose from her knees and suddenly hiked up her skirt — revealing sheer black pantyhose sheathing skin so pale it seemed to glow, and beneath the fabric, two small hills peeking out along the lines of her clothes.
She pressed her shoulders down against the sofa, pinning me flat, climbed on top of me, and brought her nylon-sheathed crotch to rest against my cock.
I realized she meant to do it without penetration — sumata, indirect sex through nothing but friction and contact.
Rock, rock…
"Hah…! Ngh…"
She rolled her hips, grinding the underside of my swollen cock against those two nylon-wrapped mounds from above, and moans spilled out of me unbidden.
It was slightly rough, but the flawless lines of those sheer stockings — the kind any man would drool over — and the seam of the crotch panel hinting at everything hidden beneath pushed my visual arousal to its absolute limit.
"Feels good, sir? Looks like you're about to die from how good it feels… you fucking bastard, look at your eyes rolling back. Just a little rubbing and you're panting like a dog in heat… It makes me sick."
Her dropping all honorifics, insulting me directly in crude, blunt speech startled me — and yet, astonishingly, rather than hurting or offending me, it aroused me even more.
And then it struck me that the monster was using Ji-yoon's personality to its fullest — that this foul mouth, these actions, were a part of who Ji-yoon had always been.
So utterly opposed to the polished image and professional smile she'd shown me as an insurance saleswoman, it only made her hotter.
"Wow, our boss really was a pervert beyond my wildest imagination, huh? You're not even inside me — just getting rubbed by your employee's stockings and you're whimpering like a bitch in heat…"
Watching her snicker down at me as I writhed in pleasure, I had to admit the power dynamic had completely inverted — nothing like what I'd originally planned.
But knowing the monster's true intent was to prioritize my pleasure, to break down yet another wall I didn't know I had, watching me tremble in ecstasy — it was, in its way, the most natural transition imaginable.
"Trash… worthless piece of shit… fucking bitch of a boss, the lowest, filthiest human being, sexually harassing your own subordinate… go die, a nobody like you… if you weren't the boss I'd never do something this disgusting. If you weren't the boss, would a piece of garbage like you ever dare give orders to a woman like me? If we passed on the street, a loser like you couldn't even work up the nerve to say a word to a beauty like me — you'd just shuffle past with your tail between your legs…"
She kept firing insults at me — humiliation, disgust, contempt, mockery, ridicule all tangled together — while grinding her crotch against my cock with renewed force.
"Tch! Ah…!"
I'm going to—
Spurt!
The endless stream of degradation and the friction of her stockings triggered my climax without warning, and my body shuddered as the desire I'd been holding back all day finally erupted.
"…Haa… hm?"
In the languid, boneless afterglow that should have followed, I felt someone lapping at my body, and from where I lay sprawled, I tilted my head down to look.
Slurp, slurp…
My semen was scattered across my lower belly and the hair around my cock, and the monster — her eyes now fully crimson — was feverishly licking it all up.
Afraid to miss a single drop, she stretched her tongue out long and serpentine, lapping greedily at every inch of my stomach, devouring my spend like a starving animal.
She even sucked at the hair around my cock, determined not to let a single tiny fragment of semen clinging there escape her.
"…Didn't I tell you you were full from eating yesterday?"
I asked carefully, quietly watching the now-familiar spectacle.
"I'm eating. Don't interrupt."
The monster, mid-meal, snapped at me with rare irritation, then poured every ounce of her focus back into wringing out whatever stray traces of my semen she could still find.