Young Camille was doing an internship in the security control room of a luxury group owned by her father. From a privileged background and educated in strict institutions, she had grown up sheltered, almost cut off from reality. Serious, diligent, but naive, she approached this internship with only one idea in mind: to prove herself and not disappoint. But reality quickly caught up with her. The work was thankless, repetitive, and above all, her direct supervisor was anything but reassuring. A former soldier, harsh, sometimes drunk, he stared at her intently, almost oppressively. In his uniform, she constantly felt his eyes sliding over her body. Despite her efforts, she made mistake after mistake. One day, she was summoned to his office. Sitting across from him, tense, she listened as he explained that he couldn't keep her on. Not rigorous enough, not up to standard. The words hit her like a ton of bricks. She burst into tears. She could already picture her father's disappointed look, the shame, the consequences. He, across from her, was relishing the scene. After a silence, he continued in an almost calm tone: "Your distress touches me. I could reconsider my decision… on one condition. You must accept a punishment, to prove your motivation." Without thinking, panicked at the thought of failing, she agreed. She imagined unpleasant tasks, overtime… but certainly not what followed. The man stood up, locked the door, then came back to her. "Very well. The punishment begins. In your underwear. Pull down your pants. Now." She froze. Doubt crossed her mind, but the man's hard gaze left no room for interpretation. Run away? Refuse? She knew what that would mean. So, trembling, she unbuckled her belt. The dull thud of metal hitting the floor echoed. Then her fingers went to work on the buttons. His pants slid down her legs to her ankles. She stood there, exposed, in black panties that clung perfectly to her figure. "Turn around." She obeyed. Slowly. "Hands on your head." She raised her arms, unable to resist. She felt his gaze upon her. Then silence. And suddenly, a sharp slap on her thigh. "Look ahead." He approached. Slowly. His hands came to rest on her buttocks. At first, the contact made her jump. She expected roughness. But no. His fingers caressed the fabric, followed its curves, pressed lightly. She remained motionless, trying to hold on. The minutes passed.Les caresses continuaient. Insistantes. Précises. Il explorait chaque centimètre à travers le tissu, s’attardant, revenant, testant ses réactions.Peu à peu, son corps réagissait malgré elle.Sa respiration changeait. Une chaleur montait. Ses tétons se durcissaient sous son haut. Et surtout… elle sentait sa culotte s’humidifier.Elle serra les dents.Mai ...

... Log in to read the end of this erotic story | 100% free registration