“Yes, sir,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

Joseph rose from his seat, crossing the room with deliberate slowness. “You embarrassed the team, to put it mildly. As we discussed, I don’t let such actions go unpunished.”

“Please…” My voice caught in my throat, but his glare silenced me.

“Also as we discussed, because of the special circumstances I am going to allow you to decline this punishment, if you truly feel it’s not justified. If you accept the punishment, though, I will paddle you in front of the junior executives.”

He said all of it matter-of-factly, as if discussing quarterly reports, while I felt my knees wobble under me. Then, to my horror, he continued, “And then they will gang bang you as a performance reward, while I watch.”

My legs nearly buckled beneath me, a whirlwind of emotions tearing through my mind and my body. Fear clashed with an unexpected surge of arousal, submission mingling with the desperate need for his approval. Could I endure this? Did I want it?

“Your humiliation is necessary,” he continued, his tone unwavering. “You’ve caused embarrassment, and now you must face your own.”

I swallowed hard, my mind racing with conflicting thoughts. The idea of it… the exposure, the terrible agony of the discipline, the helpless, hot, dark pleasure of those three cocks and those strong limbs engulfing me… it filled me with terror and yet, also… that forbidden thrill.

I supposed I should have expected it, the wayward clench between my thighs and the beginnings of warmth and wetness down there. Maybe someday I would. Three weeks into this insane, overwhelming relationship with my brutal, dominant, gorgeous, affectionate boss, it still took me by surprise. Was this what I wanted? To be laid bare, both body and soul, for him?

“Do you accept your punishment, Ingrid?” His voice cut through my turmoil, demanding an answer; more, urging me to find that answer inside myself.

For a moment, I hesitated, my heart warring with my mind, my mind with my body. Something within me shifted, as I looked into his eyes, desperate to find a softer emotion than the singular resolve they seemed to reflect. This challenge represented much more than just a punishment; in it lay a test of my own resolve, my willingness to accept my own need to submit and to travel beyond it, proving myself capable not as the repressed young woman who had entered Joseph’s office three weeks ago but as myself: all of me. It would mean facing the hot, red depths of my desires head-on. It would mean putting myself utterly in my beloved master’s power.

“Yes, sir,” I finally replied, my voice barely a whisper.

“Good,” he said, a flicker of satisfaction dancing in his eyes. “Prepare yourself. This is going to happen right now.”

As I stood there, trembling, I searched his face again for any sign of softness, of care, in the wake of my acceptance. Was it just my imagination, or did his gaze soften momentarily? The lines around his mouth seemed less severe, and for a heartbeat, I thought I saw something tender, something protective. My heart thrilled for just a moment despite the quick disappearance of that softening: Joseph, sir, boss, master… he truly cared for me. For a few seconds, I had not the slightest doubt of it.

“Joseph…” I started, but my voice faltered. His name on my lips felt intimate, almost sacred. “Sir…”

“Yes, Ingrid?” He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“Nothing,” I whispered, blushing furiously. It was suddenly too much to hope for, too dangerous to believe in love where there might only be control.

“Very well.” His tone was brisk, cutting through my thoughts like a knife. “It’s time.”

He pressed a button on his intercom. “Kevin, Louis, Martin. My office. Now.”

The enormous office seemed to close in around me, the modern art on the walls pressing against my mind, as if a representation of the storm raging inside me. Kevin, Louis, and Martin filed in, their eyes immediately locking onto me.

“Go ahead and sit down, gentlemen,” Joseph told them. “I thought it was only fair you should have a role to play in Ingrid’s punishment, since she embarrassed all of us today.”

My face burned as the three big men took their seats on Joseph’s sleek leather couch, their expressions a mix of anticipation and dominance. My heart pounded so loudly I feared they could hear it.

“Strip,” Joseph ordered, turning to me. His voice sliced through the air like a whip.

I stood frozen for a long moment, my hands hovering in front of my chest, quivering. My resolve had vanished completely in the face of the junior executives’ stark, lustful gaze.

“You accepted the punishment, sweetheart,” Joseph said, his voice condescending, slightly mocking. “Do I need to get the compliance wand out?”

I heard, in his tone, the game beginning again. The shudder that went through my limbs had as much desire in it as fear.

“No, sir,” I told him, still looking at the men on the couch. Suddenly, without any warning, I found myself thinking about their cocks: about how I could make them hard—how I would make them hard. How they might even be hard already, just at the thought of watching a naughty secretary get what she deserved.

My hands shook as I reached for the zipper of my dress, but the hesitation had gone. As the fabric slid down my body, exposing the lacy black lingerie Joseph had given me, memories of how he had chosen each piece with meticulous care flooded my mind. The bra, garter belt, panties, nylons—all designed to tantalize and tease.

“Faster,” Joseph snapped, his impatience palpable.

I fumbled, my fingers betraying my nerves. The dress pooled at my feet, leaving me vulnerable, exposed. My cheeks burned with humiliation, but underneath it all, the hot forbidden pulse of the game coursed through me.