From the very beginning, you hated everything about her. Her voice. Her walk. Her fastidious note-taking. The way in which her practised, oh-so-innocent smile turned into a smirk when your eyes met.
The worse thing is that nobody suspected anything. For the rest of the world, she was just your cute, eager assistant. The one girl that, thanks to her patience and pure heart, managed to be accepted as the shadow of the Evil Lawyers most successful (and infamously prickly) associate. After all, with your unreasonable requests and tyrannical antics, you forced all your previous charges to quit in less than a week. Well, all but her.
"Aaw. Does it hurt?”
She gives your nipple a particularly vicious pinch. The question was obviously rhetorical.
"You did so good, today, boss. I loved to see you win that trial. Ah, the judge was terrified, wasn't he?” she whispers in your ear. You don't reply. Not for a lack of will, mind. You simply can't, not with your favourite Armani tie stuffed deep into your mouth.
She chuckles as she lazily fucks your tender, abused hole with the plug she forced in there only eight hours prior.
Your mind keeps racing from murderous thoughts to the shameful pleasure of this conceited existence.
She suddenly cups your caged cock with ice-cold fingers.
"Should I let you cum?"
Your killer glare is ruined by a choked whimper.