The Promotion
By Max Swan.
Free Sample…
Emily’s fingers hovered over her phone, the screen glowing in the dim apartment light. She typed a quick message to Mr. Carter: “Come over now. We need to talk strategy… and more. My place. Door’s unlocked.”
Her heart raced with anticipation, the wine from earlier still warming her blood. This was it—the step from fantasy to reality, where she’d weave her web tighter around Mr. Carter. Vanessa could scheme all she wanted; Emily would claim the boss’s soul tonight.
The knock came sooner than expected, soft but insistent. Emily smoothed her silk robe, the fabric clinging to her slender curves, and opened the door. There he stood, Mr. Carter, his broad shoulders tense under his suit jacket, eyes darting before locking onto her seductive smile. At 45, he carried the weight of authority, but tonight, nervousness etched lines around his mouth, mingling with eager hunger. The age gap thrilled her—his mature frame contrasting her youthful poise.
“Come in,” she murmured, stepping aside, her voice a sultry invitation.
He entered, the door clicking shut behind him, sealing them in her intimate space. The air hummed with tension, the faint scent of her perfume—jasmine and desire—wrapping around him. Emily watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, his gaze tracing her long legs peeking from the robe’s hem.
She closed the distance, her hand brushing his arm lightly. “You look tense, Mr. Carter. Let me help with that.”
Her fingers trailed up to his tie, loosening it with deliberate slowness. He exhaled sharply, standing still as she worked, his body already responding to her touch. Emily’s mind buzzed with power; she could feel his insecurity simmering beneath the surface, ready for her to stoke it into submission.
Guiding him to the bedroom, she flicked on a low lamp, shadows dancing over the bed where her silk scarves waited. “Sit,” she commanded softly, pushing him onto the edge of the mattress. He obeyed, eyes fixed on her, breathing quicker.
Emily knelt before him, her robe parting slightly to reveal the swell of her breasts. She unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his chest—firm from years of control, now vulnerable under her gaze. As she tugged the shirt free, her hand dipped lower, unzipping his pants. His dick stirred, small but hardening against the fabric. Emily freed it gently, wrapping her fingers around its modest length, feeling it twitch in her palm.
“Look at you,” she whispered, her breath warm against his skin, “so small and vulnerable, but it gets so eager for me.” The words hung between them, tender yet laced with humiliation, her thumb circling the tip to draw out a shiver.
Mr. Carter’s face flushed, a mix of shame and arousal tightening his features. He shifted, but didn’t pull away—craving the sting of her words as much as her touch. Emily smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his collarbone, blending affection with her firm grip on his dick. “Shh, it’s okay. I like it this way—makes you all mine to control.” She stroked him slowly, her slender fingers encompassing him easily, heightening his desperation.
Standing, Emily let her robe slip to the floor, revealing her naked body—slender hips, long legs, pert breasts begging for attention. His eyes devoured her, but she held his gaze, commanding. “Undress the rest yourself, but keep your eyes on me.”
He fumbled with his shoes and pants, kicking them aside, his small dick standing rigid now, a bead of precum glistening at the tip. Emily watched, her own arousal building, pussy aching with the power she held.
She pushed him back onto the bed, climbing over him, her thighs straddling his hips without letting him enter. From her drawer, she pulled the silk scarves, binding his wrists to the headboard with gentle knots—soft restraint that promised more.
“This is our ritual,” she said, voice husky, trailing her nails down his chest, leaving faint red lines. “I’ll make you feel everything, but you surrender to me completely.”
Mr. Carter groaned, testing the bonds, his body arching toward her. Emily lowered her mouth to his neck, sucking lightly, then nipping his earlobe. “Your little dick throbs for this, doesn’t it? So needy, so perfect in its flaw.”
She ground her wet pussy against his thigh, letting him feel her heat, but denying him direct contact. Her hand returned to his dick, pumping steadily, mixing slow twists with firmer squeezes that made him gasp.
“Tell me you want it,” she commanded, her lips brushing his. He hesitated, shame flickering in his eyes, but the craving won.
“Please, Emily… I need you.”
Satisfaction bloomed in her chest; she rewarded him with a deep kiss, tongues tangling as she positioned herself. Slowly, she sank onto his dick, its small size sliding in with ease, filling her just enough to tease without overwhelming. She rocked her hips, setting a sensual rhythm, her inner cuntal walls clenching around him deliberately.
Pleasure sparked through her, but it was his reactions that fueled her—his moans muffled against her shoulder, body trembling under her control. Emily whispered praises between commands: “Good boy, taking me like this. Your size makes it so intimate, so devoted.”
She quickened her pace, grinding down, her clit rubbing against his base for her own building ecstasy. His hips bucked weakly, bound and helpless, submission deepening with every thrust. As the climax neared for him, Emily slowed, edging him mercilessly.
“Not yet. Feel how I own this—your shame binds you to me, turns it into devotion.”
She untied one wrist, guiding his hand to her breast, letting him squeeze as she rode him harder. The room filled with their shared breaths, the slick sounds of her pussy taking him, his whimpers of need. Finally, she allowed release, clenching tight as he came inside her, hot spurts filling her with his vulnerability.
Emily collapsed against him, untying the other scarf, her fingers stroking his softening dick tenderly. “See? This control, this intimacy—it’s ours. Your secret makes you crave me more.”
He pulled her close, eyes glazed with erotic devotion, shame twisted into longing. But in her mind, Emily plotted further—next trysts, deeper rituals, using this to eclipse Vanessa. The night was young, and her power just beginning to unfold.
Emily lingered against Mr. Carter’s chest, her skin warm and slick from their shared release. His arms wrapped around her tentatively, as if afraid she’d vanish, his breath ragged in the quiet room. But she wasn’t done—not yet. The power humming through her veins demanded more, a deeper etch of her control into his soul. Vanessa’s shadow loomed in her thoughts, but tonight, Emily would fortify her hold on him, turning his insecurity into unbreakable devotion.
She lifted her head, meeting his dazed gaze with a knowing smile. ‘That was just the beginning,’ she whispered, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his softening dick, coaxing it back to life with gentle pressure. It twitched under her touch, small but responsive, a testament to his growing need for her guidance. Mr. Carter’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face, but the pull of her presence kept him pinned beneath her.
Slipping from the bed, Emily retrieved another silk tie from her drawer—this one smoother, deeper crimson, like spilled wine. She returned, her naked form gliding with purposeful grace, long legs carrying her back to him. “Trust me,” she said softly, her voice low and commanding, laced with the authority that made his pulse quicken.
He nodded, lying back as she straddled his waist again, the heat of her pussy brushing his abdomen teasingly. With deliberate care, Emily took his wrists, crossing them above his head and looping the silk tie around them. The fabric whispered against his skin, binding him securely to the headboard once more. Not tight enough to bruise, but firm— a gentle restraint that symbolized his surrender. She tested the knots, her nails grazing his forearms, sending shivers down his spine.
“There,” she murmured, leaning down to brush her lips against his. “Now you’re mine to guide through this ritual. No escaping what we build here.”
Mr. Carter tugged lightly at the bonds, his broad chest rising and falling faster. At 45, his body bore the marks of experience—strong lines from years of boardroom battles, but in her hands, he felt exposed, vulnerable. The age gap between them amplified it all; her youthful confidence stripped away his defenses, leaving him aching for her approval. ‘Emily…’ he breathed, his voice husky with a mix of fear and desire.
She silenced him with a finger to his lips, then trailed it down his neck, over his collarbone, mapping the terrain she now owned. Her hand found his dick again, wrapping around its modest length. It had hardened halfway under her earlier caresses, and now she stroked it slowly, from base to tip, her grip light but insistent. The skin was warm, velvety, and she savored how easily her slender fingers encircled him completely.
“Feel that?” she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. “Your little dick responds so beautifully to me. So eager, so perfectly flawed. It’s what makes you crave this control.”
He gasped, his hips lifting instinctively toward her touch. The praise wrapped around him like silk, warm and affirming, but the humiliation stung just enough to heighten his arousal. Shame flushed his cheeks, yet it fueled the fire in his veins, twisting into a desperate need for more of her words, her dominance blended with affection. Emily watched his reactions closely, her own body responding—the slick ache between her thighs growing as she wielded this power.
She quickened her strokes slightly, thumb swirling over the sensitive head where a drop of precum beaded. “You’re doing so well, surrendering like this,” she praised, her free hand splaying across his chest, feeling his heart thunder beneath her palm. Then, leaning closer, her lips grazed his jaw as she added, “But it’s so small, isn’t it? Hardly filling my hand, yet it throbs for my approval. That’s your secret strength—needing me to make it mean something.” The words were sharp, intimate humiliations delivered with a lover’s tenderness, each one tightening the erotic coil between them.
Mr. Carter’s desperation mounted, his bound body arching off the bed, muscles straining against the silk. “Please… more,” he groaned, eyes locked on hers, pleading.
The room crackled with tension, the air thick with the scent of their arousal—musk and jasmine mingling. Emily’s pussy clenched at his submission, her breasts brushing his chest as she shifted, teasing him with the promise of her body without granting full access.
“Patience,” she commanded softly, slowing her strokes to a torturous rhythm, edging him toward the brink without mercy. Her voice dropped lower, a sultry thread weaving through the ritual. “I’ll give you pleasure beyond what you’ve known, but only because you let me hold this—your vulnerability, your size. It binds us, turns shame into something exquisite.”
She kissed him then, deep and possessive, her tongue exploring as her hand pumped his little dick with renewed purpose, fingers squeezing just right to draw out his moans. He whimpered into her mouth, the sound raw and unguarded, his devotion deepening with every passing second.
The blend of dominance and affection electrified the space between them—her commands firm, yet her touches reverent, guiding him through waves of sensation. Emily felt his small dick pulse harder in her grip, so close, but she held back, whispering promises of ecstasy while her eyes gleamed with plans unspoken. Vanessa’s challenge faded further into irrelevance; this ritual was forging a weapon only she could wield.
As his gasps grew frantic, Emily pressed her thigh against his, letting him feel her wetness, a reward for his obedience. The night stretched ahead, ripe with possibilities—more bindings, deeper surrenders, her control expanding like shadows in the lamplight.
The Promotion
File: thepromotion.pdf size: 4 MB
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