You are being publicly humuliated

The moment you step into the office, Jessica’s cold, furious gaze drops directly to your arm. She doesn't even let you speak. Her hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist and pulling your arm up immediately to inspect the damage. Her jaw tightens as she examines the five sharp, angry red marks Rin left behind.

"She touched what's mine," Jessica whispers, her voice vibrating with a dangerous, quiet rage. She traces the swelling skin, realizing the physical damage might affect your performance. "And she did it on my broadcast floor."

She drops your arm and instantly picks up her desk phone, dialing her personal line. "Send in the executive secretary."

A moment later, the door opens, and a gorgeous redhead steps into the room. She’s impeccably dressed, her eyes immediately scanning you with a look of cool, detached amusement.

"Take him down to the local hospital and get that arm treated," Jessica orders her, before turning back to look at you. A cruel, knowing smirk pulls at the corner of her lips. "Given how weak you are right now, I don't expect you to be able to fight off the staff at the hospital. Just get patched up. I have to leave the station early to teach someone a lesson in private."

The drive is silent and suffocating. As you arrive at the clinic, the reality of this town sets in heavy. Like almost everywhere else in the area, the population is nearly 100% female, and the hospital is no exception. From the admissions desk to the triage floor, columns of clinical, authoritative women track your movement with unfiltered hunger. The luxury executive watch on your wrist keeps them from completely taking you in the hallway, but it also signals exactly how valuable you are.

The secretary leaves you in a private examination room. Within minutes, the door clicks shut, and you find yourself trapped with two nurses in their late twenties—one a stunning, young Black woman and the other a sharp-eyed brunette.

They pretend to check your vitals and look at the claw marks, but the clinical pretense quickly melts away.

"An executive's pet," the brunette murmurs, her fingers tracing the metal links of your watch before sliding directly up your sleeve.

"Let's see what Jessica is hiding under these coveralls," the Black nurse purrs.

Before you can protest, they aggressively grope and handle your body, completely disregarding your trembling, fragile state. The door opens again, and the lead doctor—a commanding, voluptuous woman—steps into the room.

She efficiently treats your arm, and then she kicks her heels off and hitches her lab coat up, settling herself directly on the edge of the examination table right in front of your face.

Driven by their overwhelming dominance and your own total lack of strength to fight back, you are **** onto your knees. The nurse's hands grip your hair, guiding your head forward until your face is buried in the doctor's slick, warm center. You eat the doctor’s pussy under the bright, sterile surgical lights, desperately trying to keep up with her demands while the young Black nurse firmly grips your cock, jerking you off with practiced, intense strokes.

You are entirely trapped, your body caught in a whirlwind of clinical exploitation, when the smartphone in your dropped coveralls suddenly begins to buzz loudly.

The single programmed number flashes on the screen: Jessica.

Terrified of what will happen if you don't answer immediately, you weakly pull away from the doctor's thighs and scramble to grab the phone, pressing it to your ear.

"Jessica—" you gasp out, breathless and sweating.

But Jessica isn't listening to you. Through the speaker, you can hear that she isn't at the studio anymore—the background is completely devoid of newsroom noise. Instead, she is inside a private home, and the audio is filled with a chaotic, echoing, violent commotion. Above the struggle, you hear a frantic, **** voice screaming in absolute panic and agony, completely trapped behind closed doors.

It sounds exactly like Rin.

Jessica says, "Someone owes you an apology. Please come to my home."

The executive secretary drops you off, and as you walk up to the front door, you can hear the frantic screaming coming from inside.