Page 30 of Shameful Addictions

She refused to give him an answer.

She refused to be called names.

She was going to walk out of there and never come back.

If only. If only I could.

More heat flooded her face, turning her cheeks red as she accepted what she had to do. Charlotte closed her eyes and nodded. “Yes,” she said, quietly.

“Yes, what?” Mamba drawled, his question turning into a moan from whatever the girl under the desk was doing to him. She was going at it harder than Charlotte knew was possible, rising all the way up, leaving his cock glistening and visible, before dropping back down and taking all of him into her mouth again. It looked so freeing.

Charlotte forced the words out of her mouth, to please him. “I’m a stupid cunt.”

The relief of getting it over with, of having gotten through that disgrace, somehow managed to arouse her. She refused to believe it was from anything else except relief and an elevated heartbeat, that her nipples were stiffening against her bra. The hard peaks of her nipples rubbing over the fabric fed into her arousal, causing a warmth to pulse between her legs. It felt good, and it was so shameful all at once. He had to know, as well, that something was getting her off. He’d detected her orgasm somehow, despite her doing everything she could to hide it, even going so far as to shower to get rid of the musk of sex.

It clicked for her, that that was what hung in the air in the office. Sex.

“Good girl.” Mamba’s eyes went half-lidded. He repeated, “Good girl.”

She didn’t dare ask which girl in the room he referred to.

Mamba lowered his hands to his lap, gripping the hair of the girl sucking his cock. “You want me to write off another month.”

“Yes. Please,” she whispered, certain she had never been so humiliated in her entire life. She was being such a whore for him, begging for money, changing her hair color, submitting to his indomitable will.

“I told you before that you will call me Sir.”

“Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.” Her voice grew smaller and smaller with each word.

Mamba seemed to regain some of his true focus and sat up straighter in his chair, forcing the girl down beneath the desk again. He swung his head around to Charlotte. “As before, you will have to do something for me if you want me to write off the payment. It’s a matter of principle that you must do something of worth in exchange. I am a man who follows through on my words because I know their value. You, on the other hand, need to be taught that you can’t simply say whatever you want without a means by which to back them up.”

Charlotte would have sworn she learned her lesson; he must want her to attend an entire course on the matter, which didn’t give her much hope for the future.

“What do you want me to do this time?”

He wagged his finger at her, a mesmerizing gesture, like a cobra’s sway just before it struck. “Will you do something for me in return?”

“What do you want?”

“Are you a cheeky dumb bitch, Charlotte?”

Charlotte lowered her head and bit her lip. The silence that passed between them was heavy, uncomfortable, interspersed with sucking sounds. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m a cheeky dumb bitch. Yes, I’ll do something for you.”

Mamba flashed a terrifying grin at her. He reached under the desk and pushed the girl away from him, then leaned forward in his chair. Charlotte was at an angle to see his lap, his huge wet cock, and her stomach knotted with warmth.

“Get a boob job,” Mamba said.

She started, not sure if she had heard him right. “What?”

“Get. A. Boob. Job,” he repeated, measuring out each word like he thought she was an idiot. Which, he probably did. And which she was. She was such an idiot for overstepping her bounds and getting herself into this terrible mess. “That’s what you have to do. Take it or leave it, it makes no difference to me, though I’m sure it makes a hell of a lot of difference to you.”

“But why?” she cried.

“Because,” he growled, “I know we’re going to be doing this for months. For years. You are never going to be able to get a job and you will never be able to make another payment for me.”

She felt like she was falling, spiraling, his words pulling her into the abyss.

“We’re going to be seeing each other for a very long time.” He knitted his fingers together. “And I’m already tired of the way you look. You need improvement. Those tits of yours need help. Really, I’m doing you a favor here.”

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