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Matt5
Moon
- Joined
- Dec 27, 2019
Here's an example RP scene setting, for a short or long term-RP, depending on how well we get along. If you're familiar with Selctacorp or Exec2Sec you know the kind of humiliation, dub/non-con and demotion fetish I'm looking for. Otherwise, read on!
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Your life wasn't always like this.
You are carrying the morning mail and your boss's coffee, delivering them straight to his desk first thing in the morning like a good little secretary. You can feel the eyes of the girls in the steno pool watching you as you pass by. Judging you. You're becoming uncomfortably used to the mixture of envy and contempt and you keep your eyes forward, making sure you don't spill the boss's coffee.
You reach his office and open the door, stepping inside. Your boss, Mr. Matthews (and he insisted you call him MR. Matthews, or Sir, no first names) is seated at his desk across from the door, facing you. The desk is wooden, but lacks the backboard that would typically cover the middle of the desk, allowing visitors to see his legs. In the old days, that would be a sign that it was purchased on the cheap, something for low ranking office drones. Here, it meant a man wanted to be able to show off to visitors what (or rather, who) he could get kneeling down there. Usually, it's you, and you're grateful that the door to his office is solid wood rather than the increasingly common glass, which would expose you even more. You're not sure how much longer his desire for professional privacy will outweigh his desire to show off though.
Aside from his desk, the major pieces of furniture are a pair of chairs for guests in front of his desk, and your stool off to the side. The stool is so short that it's impossible to sit on without hiking your knees up almost to your shoulders and spreading your legs. Of course, this gives him a perfect view between your legs, which he enjoys. He doesn't hesitate to talk to your crotch when dictating or giving orders, and if you're standing he usually talks to your tits. The only time he looks you in the eye is when he's unhappy with you.
For all that, you desperately hope you'll be allowed to sit down, because even the stool is better than continuing to stand in the towering heels he ordered you to wear as his first change to your dress code. A secretary like you isn't allowed to use the elevators and after rushing to get here on time your feet are killing you.
You approach the desk, coffee and files in hand, and he gestures you to come around to his side to serve the coffee, rather than just bending over the desk to serve the coffe before crawling under the desk for his morning blow job. As instructed, you clack around the desk and stand at his left hand, very close to the desk and facing towards the door, and a bit to the side; perfect groping distance. His eyes stay on his work but one hand reaches out to cup your ass, kneading it. Eventually, after looking through his mail he deigns to speak to you. His hand, meanwhile, has worked its way inside your skirt and is playing with the edge of your panties.
"I see are the results of your quarterly physical have arrived. This will be a good time to go over them because they'll be a big part of your performance review," he says. Two of his fingers are now thrusting between your legs, gliding back and forth across your panties.
He smirks. "Why don't you be a good girl and read it out loud for me so I can a make sure I'm filling out your performance review correctly."
"We'll start simple. What are your measurements?"
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Your life wasn't always like this.
You are carrying the morning mail and your boss's coffee, delivering them straight to his desk first thing in the morning like a good little secretary. You can feel the eyes of the girls in the steno pool watching you as you pass by. Judging you. You're becoming uncomfortably used to the mixture of envy and contempt and you keep your eyes forward, making sure you don't spill the boss's coffee.
You reach his office and open the door, stepping inside. Your boss, Mr. Matthews (and he insisted you call him MR. Matthews, or Sir, no first names) is seated at his desk across from the door, facing you. The desk is wooden, but lacks the backboard that would typically cover the middle of the desk, allowing visitors to see his legs. In the old days, that would be a sign that it was purchased on the cheap, something for low ranking office drones. Here, it meant a man wanted to be able to show off to visitors what (or rather, who) he could get kneeling down there. Usually, it's you, and you're grateful that the door to his office is solid wood rather than the increasingly common glass, which would expose you even more. You're not sure how much longer his desire for professional privacy will outweigh his desire to show off though.
Aside from his desk, the major pieces of furniture are a pair of chairs for guests in front of his desk, and your stool off to the side. The stool is so short that it's impossible to sit on without hiking your knees up almost to your shoulders and spreading your legs. Of course, this gives him a perfect view between your legs, which he enjoys. He doesn't hesitate to talk to your crotch when dictating or giving orders, and if you're standing he usually talks to your tits. The only time he looks you in the eye is when he's unhappy with you.
For all that, you desperately hope you'll be allowed to sit down, because even the stool is better than continuing to stand in the towering heels he ordered you to wear as his first change to your dress code. A secretary like you isn't allowed to use the elevators and after rushing to get here on time your feet are killing you.
You approach the desk, coffee and files in hand, and he gestures you to come around to his side to serve the coffee, rather than just bending over the desk to serve the coffe before crawling under the desk for his morning blow job. As instructed, you clack around the desk and stand at his left hand, very close to the desk and facing towards the door, and a bit to the side; perfect groping distance. His eyes stay on his work but one hand reaches out to cup your ass, kneading it. Eventually, after looking through his mail he deigns to speak to you. His hand, meanwhile, has worked its way inside your skirt and is playing with the edge of your panties.
"I see are the results of your quarterly physical have arrived. This will be a good time to go over them because they'll be a big part of your performance review," he says. Two of his fingers are now thrusting between your legs, gliding back and forth across your panties.
He smirks. "Why don't you be a good girl and read it out loud for me so I can a make sure I'm filling out your performance review correctly."
"We'll start simple. What are your measurements?"