Settle the deal.

"You're going to be a very good girl for me, aren't you?" says Laurent, making her way to the head of the conference table.

"Yes, ma'am," Gemma responds, her lashes fluttering.

With a flick of your wrist, the ropes binding her arms loosen, freeing her. She sinks to her knees on the conference table, then lowers herself onto her hands, her ass in the air. Her body moves with a grace that’s almost feline as she crawls toward the head of the table. The clients part like a sea, their eyes glued to the sway of her hips, as they filter their way out of the conference room, knowing that Madame Laurent has secured her prize. You get up with a wet cloth in your hand and begin to wipe away the tattoos on Gemma's body until only one is left - Laurent Industries, marked perfectly underneath her breasts.

Madame Laurent cups Gemma's chin, forcing her to meet her gaze. She sits in the chair beside her, her fingers tangling in Gemma's hair as she pulls her head back, exposing her throat. She presses her lips into Gemma's neck, her teeth grazing against her delicate skin. She doesn't waste time. Her hand slides between Gemma's thighs, her fingers finding her already wet and ready. Gemma moans, her body trembling as Laurent's fingers work her, her hips rocking back against her touch. Her free hand cups her breast, her thumb rolling over Gemma's nipple, pinching hard enough to make her gasp.

You slide a tablet across the surface of the conference table to Madame Laurent. She looks irritable that she's been interrupted, but she knows more than anyone the importance of business before pleasure. With a few taps of her perfectly manicured fingertips on the tablet, it's done - a wire transfer of two million dollars straight into your personal bank account.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you," you say, collecting the tablet. "I hope our relationship continues in the future."

Madame Laurent ignores you, her lips finding Gemma's, swallowing her moans, her fingers sliding down and finding Gemma's clit. She takes a seat in the chair, spreading her legs and placing her high-heeled feet on the conference table. With a nod, you move to exit, and just before you close the conference room door behind you, you watch as Gemma's head descends between Madame Laurent's legs, licking her lips hungrily.

THE END.