The Office.

Lila emerged from the subway station into the harsh glare of morning sunlight, her eyes squinting against the sudden brightness. The streets bustled with activity, a sea of dark suits and muted dresses flowing towards the towering office buildings that dominated the skyline. She fell into step with the crowd, her heels clicking a staccato rhythm on the pavement.

As she approached her building, Lila's gaze was drawn to the massive propaganda posters plastered across its facade. Stern-faced men in positions of power stared down at the masses, their eyes seeming to follow her reproachfully. Beneath them, demure women with downcast eyes and serene smiles extolled the virtues of submission and obedience. The sight made Lila's stomach churn, but she **** herself to keep moving.

The lobby was a cathedral to masculinity, all polished marble and gleaming brass. The air was thick with the scent of leather and expensive cologne. Lila kept her head down as she navigated through the throng of men, their conversations a low rumble of self-importance. She could feel their gazes on her, appraising and hungry.

At the elevator bank, Lila joined the queue of waiting passengers. Her skin prickled with awareness as she felt someone step up close behind her. A hand brushed against her lower back, lingering just a moment too long to be accidental. Lila's breath caught in her throat, but she didn't dare turn around or make a scene.

When the elevator arrived, she was swept inside with the press of bodies. Lila found herself wedged into a corner, surrounded by the heat and scent of male bodies. The confined space amplified every sensation, making her acutely aware of every brush of fabric and whisper of breath.

As the elevator ascended, Lila's gaze was drawn to a couple standing near the center of the car. The woman, dressed in the plain garb of a secretary, stood rigidly still, her face a mask of **** calm. Behind her, a man in an expensive suit had his hand buried beneath her skirt, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate motions.

Lila watched, transfixed, as the woman's composure began to crack. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, barely audible over the hum of the elevator. Her fingers twitched at her sides, as if fighting the urge to push the man's hand away. But she remained still, accepting his touch as her due.

The sight sent a confusing mix of emotions churning through Lila. Disgust warred with a perverse fascination, and beneath it all, a traitorous spark of arousal.

Just as the woman's knees began to buckle, the elevator chimed, announcing Lila's floor. She pushed her way out, stumbling slightly in her haste to get out of the elevator. She did not dare to turn around.