Another day at the company.

The sunset light streamed through the half-open curtains of the office, casting golden stripes on Lucas's tense back. He was on all fours like a table, naked, his skin marked with the words *"RAFAELA"* in bright red cursive from his shoulders to the curve of his buttocks.

Rafaela leaned against him like a living piece of furniture, her fingers tapping lightly to the rhythm of the music echoing from the discreet speaker. Her gaze, however, was fixed on Denise—the manager who writhed in the center of the room, her tight dress slowly sliding down her hips with each turn.

"Slower," Rafaela ordered, pressing her high heel against Lucas's ribs. He groaned, but didn't move.

Denise obeyed, arching her back until her cleavage revealed her hardened nipples beneath the sheer fabric. Her eyes met Rafaela's as her fingers slid down her waist, pulling up the hem of her skirt to reveal her pink lace panties—and the dampness that already soaked into them.

"Did you write on them too?" Denise whispered, turning to face Rafaela and burying her fingers in her mouth.

Rafaela smiled. With a fluid movement, she rose from Lucas and picked up the permanent marker from the table.

"Want to find out?"

She pulled at the collar of Denise's dress, exposing her pale collarbone. The pen scratched the skin with *"RAFAELA"* in Gothic letters.

Denise gasped. Her knees buckled. Lucas, still on all fours, turned his head to see his colleague fall to her knees, her fingers already opening her own panties.

"Good boy," Rafaela stroked the back of Lucas's neck before kneeling before Denise. "Now watch how a lady is served."

And then he buried his tongue in Denise's throbbing vagina, making her scream as her legs trembled. Lucas watched, drooling on his bound arm, as Rafaela wrote her dominance onto raw flesh—a signature that no one would ever erase.