"Good girl. I'll be in touch."

Those had been his final words. The normally prim and proper Emily Johnson - P.A. to the boss of one of Britain's biggest companies - had just been violently used by a relatively junior employee - a man whose name she did not know but whom she had come to regard as Her Nemesis. He'd fucked her cunt and fucked her face, introduced her virginal throat to the dubious joys of a big cock then buggered her equally virginal ass which was where he'd emptied his balls to dump his copious mess. Her face had been smacked and her ass had been belted for mistakes she had made in the training he gave. At the end of the ordeal, which was also a treat - he did give her three sensational orgasms after all - Emily was forced to lick the man's soiled cock clean, which she did with gusto, battling disgust and embracing humiliation. She was now his bitch, and he was Her Master - a title he had claimed and she obediently called him - so refusal was not an option. Once she was finished, Emily was left on the floor of the basement changing room in the office block where she worked - a tattered messed up cock slut, dribbling cum from her gaping anus. It was a far cry from the tight-assed persona she usually adopted when she strutted her stuff up on the top floor, acting like a proper stuck-up little madam.

Emily stared up at Her Nemesis, the man who had repeatedly tormented her over the past month whilst descending in the elevator before leaving for home. It was a mystery how he had managed it: to be there each evening when Emily worked late, waiting alone in the elevator to escort her to the lobby, during which time he had verbally abused her and promised such scandalous depravity. But that mattered little now that she had succumbed to his will and took the extra stage down to the basement where he had delivered so impressively against all his foul mouthed threats. Emily watched him dress, this man who was now Her Master. There were no further words or even a glance - the man walked out the door, leaving Emily behind, wishing that he would stay and fuck her again. Fuck her rough and dirty on the piss sodden floor, up her ass, up her cunt, whatever part of her he wanted to use, and pull out at the end to shoot his mess all over her grateful face.

Emily shuddered at the thought. She cringed for what she'd done and what she feared she'd do again. It seemed inconceivable that the P.A. to the chairman, this arrogant well-bred sophisticate who was so at home on the top floor, could have sunk so low and acted so depraved. Yet there she was, totally screwed in so many ways. Mrs. Emily Johnson's fall from her ivory tower was total and complete.