“Fuck! Is that Sarah?!” I think to myself as I walk in the door. I checked the RSVPs for the event like I always do. Twice. And I didn't see a name or a photo I recognized.

Her back is to me. I can’t see her face. Maybe it’s not her. Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me.

But I’d know that dress, and the way it curves around her, even in the dimmest light.

If she turns around, everything could unravel. My career, my reputation, my carefully controlled life. And worse… what if she knows? What if she recognizes me, even in this setting, even with the mask, even with the carefully dimmed lighting that’s meant to protect anonymity?

She started at the office in early December, and from day one, I knew she’d be trouble for me.

I remember the moment HR brought her around for introductions, stepping into my office like it was just another formality. But then she walked in. Standing so straight, shoulders back, head tilted down just slightly in a way that felt almost… submissive.

It wasn’t intentional. It came naturally to her. It wasn’t something anyone else would notice. But I did.

I should have known.

The way she never used my name, answering instead with a quiet, steady "Yes, Sir" whenever I gave her a task. The way she straightened her posture the moment she saw me approaching, instinctively presenting herself. The way her hands folded neatly in her lap when I spoke to her, ready for my command.

Just like a good girl.

Months of teasing, subtle glances, and unspoken tension had been building. For a split second, I considered turning around, leaving before I did something reckless. But then a switch flipped inside me, and suddenly, leaving wasn’t an option.

I moved closer, my footsteps barely a sound against the floor. She was so absorbed in what she was doing, unaware of the distance between us closing. I paused just behind her, close enough to feel the heat of her body, but not quite touching.

I leaned in, my lips barely brushing her ear, and whispered her name, just loud enough for her to hear.

Her body stiffens for a moment and I can almost see the surprise in her eyes, even through the mask. She freezes, her breath catching, as she turns her head toward me.

For a heartbeat, she seems uncertain, unsure if she’s hearing things right.

"Sir…"

The way she says it, soft but clear, with a slight tremble in her voice, makes it clear she knows exactly who I am. Despite the mask, despite the anonymity of the room, there’s no mistaking the connection.

I reach out, my hand finding her wrist with a firm but controlled grip. Her pulse racing, I can feel it her wrist under my hold. Before she has time to react, I pull her gently but swiftly and I lead her toward one of the private rooms.

The moment the door closes behind us, I lock it, and we’re finally alone. She looks at me, her eyes wide beneath the mask, still processing the rush of what just happened.

"I didn’t… I didn’t think…" Her voice trails off, unsure whether she’s even allowed to finish the thought.

I take a step toward her, my voice low, steady. "Neither did I." There’s a tension in the air that hasn’t let up, but it's different now. The weight of the unsaid, the desire, all of it, is finally about to spill out.

Her breath shudders as I step closer, eyes locked on mine. She lets out a breath, her body finally relaxing against mine, the pent-up energy between us crackling, finally on the verge of breaking fire.

"I’ve been waiting for this," I admit, and I see a small, relieved smile tugging at her lips. “Are you sure this is something you want?”

“I need it Sir”

My instincts kick in, and before I can even think, my hand is at her throat, my fingers wrapping around her delicate neck with a firm, possessive grip. I push her back against the wall and in one swift motion, I tear off our masks.

I feel the tremor in her throat as she struggles to swallow under my hold, her skin flushing. The sight of her so vulnerable stirs something deep inside me.

I release her for a brief moment, letting her lungs fill with air, but only for a second. Her comfort is fleeting now. And when I take control, it won’t return until I’m done with her.

I wrap my hand around her throat again, this time lifting her off the ground, her toes barely brushing the floor beneath her. My other hand moves down, sliding across her hip, then up her dress, finding her already eager and waiting.

My fingers slide in with little resistance, the slickness of her desire clear as I feel her respond to my touch.

Such a good girl.

I release my grip on her throat and grab a fistful of her hair, tugging her toward the edge of the bed. She stumbles forward, bending over with a soft gasp as her dress shifts, riding up her hips. The thin pink g-string is the only thing separating me from what I want.

I strip off my belt in one swift motion and wrap it around her neck. I pull it tight, and her head snaps back, her breath catching in a panicked gasp.

My pants slide down, my hard cock ready to take her. Teasing her with the head, I pull back on the belt, forcing her back into me. Swelling her perfect little cunt.

Releasing the belt, she slides forward. I pull back hard, sinking myself deep inside her. Making her fuck me exactly how I need it.

I pull back on the belt, forcing her body up. The weight of her pushing the leather of my belt into her neck. I hold her there, pumping vigorously into her. Gasping for breath, struggling to pull in air past the tight constriction of the belt around her neck.

My cock stiffens, pumping and flooding her. I can feel her pussy tighten around me, squeezing every drop for her hungry little cunt.

I release the belt, and she collapses onto the bed, her chest heaving as she gasps for air, the sharp sting of the moment slowly fading. Each breath pulls her back into the now, her body still trembling from the intensity.

I glance down at her, her body completely undone, the dress a tangled mess around her, her panties pushed aside, and my cum dripping out of her.

“Thank you Sir”