He opens the desk drawer

She didn't hear him move at first.

Only the void—his fingers gone, her thighs still slick, aching, stretched wide by the desk edge and his hand on her back. She couldn't see, couldn't fight, could barely breathe with how tight her body had gone. The blindfold was a prison. Every second dragged like a blade across her skin.

Then—click—the drawer.

Emily went still.

The sound of something shifting inside. Metal. Velvet. Plastic. A low thud as it shut.

He’d planned this.

The hum started low. Mechanical. Familiar.

Her breath hitched. She shook her head.

“Please—don’t—” she whispered. But it was already too late.

The toy buzzed to life. Close. Too close.

She barely had time to cry out before it pressed straight to her clit.

“Ah—fuck!”

She bucked forward, chest slamming against the desk, nipples scraping painfully. The vibrator sent a shock straight through her, a hot, tight jolt like lightning to her spine. Her knees buckled. Her thighs tensed.

She was wet. Soaked. The toy found no resistance—just throbbing heat and slick, sensitive nerve endings screaming to be touched.

And he touched her just right.

She moaned—loud, no longer able to help it. The toy circled slow at first, then faster, tighter, right on the swollen, aching bud of her clit. The pain from before faded beneath a rising tide of unbearable pleasure.

She was going to come.

She felt it building—hard, fast, too much. Her pussy clenched, breath caught, the climax right there—

And he pulled the toy away.

Emily screamed.

“Why—why would you—”

But he didn’t answer. He waited. Let the moment drag.

Then the vibrator came back.

Harder this time.

“No—oh God— please—please—fuck—”

She shook against the desk, fingers digging into the edge, feet scrambling for purchase on the floor as the pleasure rushed back, burning hotter, tighter—

Then he stopped. Again.

A sob caught in her throat.

She was crying now—not just from the intensity, but the frustration. The madness. The need.

The cycle repeated.

Four times.

Five.

She couldn’t take it.

Her body was shaking, dripping, exhausted. Her clit throbbed in empty air between each withdrawal. Her cunt pulsed, tight and fluttering, **** to be filled. Every time the toy returned she screamed, sobbed, swore—and every time it stopped, she nearly begged.

But not quite.

Until the sixth time.

This time, when he pulled it away—just as she climbed the peak—she screamed.

“Please! Please don’t stop, please— let me come—please—I need it—”

Then the pressure on her back increased.

His voice came low, altered, sharp at the edges. “Beg me.”

She froze.

Then whimpered. “What?”

“You want to come?” he said. “Then beg. Like a whore.”

She gasped. Her cheeks burned hot beneath the blindfold. Her knees trembled, legs spread so wide they ached. Her pussy clenched just hearing him say it.

She should say no.

She didn’t.

“Please,” she whispered, barely audible. “Please—just let me—let me come—I need it so bad—please.”

The toy returned—barely.

Skimming her clit, not enough.

She sobbed.

“I’ll do anything,” she said. “Anything you want—just let me come. I can’t take it anymore—I need it— I’m so close, please, please, please—”

The toy pulsed higher.

“Say it.”

“I’ll be your whore,” she whispered, voice cracking. “Please—just let me come—I’ll do anything—just don’t stop again—”

The hum deepened.

The vibrator held firm for one glorious, unbearable second—then she felt it shifting.

Pulling away.

“No—no, please—” Emily cried out, hips jerking upward, trying to chase the sensation. Her clit was so swollen, so ****, every millimeter of withdrawal felt like a betrayal. “Don’t stop again—don’t—please—”

But it was leaving her.

And something in her broke.

“I’ll do anything,” she blurted, her voice shaking, ragged. “Anything, please—”

The toy paused—hovering just close enough for the buzz to tease her lips with vibration, but not touching. Not there.

She could feel her own slickness coating her thighs, dripping down, soaking the desk beneath her. Her breath hitched in her throat.

“You can fuck me— anywhere you want,” she whispered, lower now, voice trembling. “My mouth—my ass— I don’t care, just let me come, please—”

Still the toy didn’t move.

“I’ll suck your cock on my knees, blindfolded, while you record it,” she said, more **** now, words spilling fast and breathless. “I’ll swallow every drop— fuck—I’ll beg for it—I’ll let you do it in my office— at your desk—in the parking lot if you want—”

Nothing.

Just that maddening hum, almost touching.

She moaned, half a sob. “I’ll let you tie me up—leave me spread open for anyone— I don’t care—I’ll be your little office slut, your personal whore—just let me come—fuck, please—”

Her hips lifted, offered.

“You can bend me over in the breakroom and make me take it while the others are working— use me however you want—just don’t stop again— please—*”

She could barely breathe.

Her cheeks burned. Her thighs shook. Her pussy throbbed around nothing.

She wasn’t just begging now.

She was offering.

“I’ll take you every morning before work— underneath your desk—you won’t even need to ask— I’ll keep my panties off, lift my skirt when you walk by—fuck me wherever, whenever—just please, please, please let me come—”

The toy moved.