Emily

Emily
4 YEARS AGO  

Ethan watched her sideways through the glass of his office, the afternoon sun filtering through the Venetian blinds. Emily had been working as his secretary for just one week, a fresh university intern with curious eyes and a slender figure that moved with that innocence which drew him like a magnet. At Venus Corporated, the air always smelled of strong coffee and ambition, but for Ethan, that day it smelled of opportunity. He imagined murky scenarios with the little creature: tied to his wooden cross in the private basement, moaning under his orders, imagining her pale skin marked by his hands, and by his favorite floggers.

“I can convince her, just tell me and we’ll do it,” said Pamela, sipping from her glass of whiskey, as she watched Emily through the window.

“Fine, offer her too much money, a brand-new car, whatever she wants. In one week, I want her in my bed.”

Pamela turned toward him, hung from his neck, and kissed his lips with that possessive attitude that was already starting to bore him.

“Don’t worry, baby, you’ll have her in your bed, on your cross, wherever you want. And what about me?”

He pushed her away forcefully, grabbed her by the waist and placed her against the desk, lifting her miniskirt without ceremony. He pulled down her black lace thong without any care, the fabric tearing slightly, and lowered the zipper of his pants, freeing his hard erection that throbbed with impatience.

“For you, there’s the same as always, dear Pamela: sex.”

“Ah! Ethan, yes, give me more.”

Ethan yanked her dyed blonde hair, slamming his pelvis against hers, thrusting into her with force. Pamela’s body crashed against the hard wood in rhythm with the ferocious thrusts, her breasts bounced under the unbuttoned blouse, muffled moans escaped from her mouth as he fucked her without passion, only out of routine. He didn’t even spill inside her; he simply pulled out at the last moment, and his entire hot stream fell onto Pamela’s cold and bony back, sliding down her skin like a temporary mark.

“Oh, fuck,” she murmured, getting up abruptly and pulling up her underwear without even cleaning herself, the sticky semen barely soaking the fabric. Ethan returned to his desk, focusing his fixed gaze on the computer, as if nothing had happened.



As she had promised, Pamela made sure the intern was ready in one week. She didn’t even have to offer money; the girl, at just nineteen years old, was already surrendered to love for the CEO. From the very first day, she had fallen deeply in love with Ethan, his gray eyes and his aura of power had captivated her, and although it seemed almost impossible to have anything with him, thanks to Pamela’s manipulation—whispering promises of eternal romance and exclusivity—she was going to slip into his bed through deception.

Emily, dressed in red silk lingerie that barely covered her inexperienced curves, accentuated makeup that highlighted her red lips and lined eyes, was on her knees in a room of a luxurious encounter bar. The place was perfect for wild sex and lust, with dim lights casting sensual shadows on the upholstered walls. Ethan entered that room and, upon seeing her kneeling with trembling hands, he became completely hooked on her innocent beauty, her brown hair falling in waves over bare shoulders, and her hard nipples a complete invitation to suck.

But… the dear Emily was a virgin, and Ethan didn’t like that—he wanted women ready for his games without complications. That night, he made sure one of his loyal friends, a burly and discreet guy named Marcus, was the first man in the intern’s life. Thus it was that, in front of Ethan seated in a leather armchair with a glass in hand, she, submitted to another man, lost her virginity. Marcus penetrated her carefully at first, but then with force, his cock stretching her virgin pussy while Emily moaned in mixed pain and pleasure, tears rolling down her cheeks. Ethan watched, aroused by the control, directing the scene: “Deeper, make her scream.” That was the greatest proof of love for him, seeing how she surrendered to please him.

For all the spaces in Venus Corporated lent themselves to him dominating the intern. Emily was like that little trophy he considered his own. In the boardroom after hours, he fucked her on the table, his cock thrusting into her now accustomed pussy, while he tied her hands with his tie and bit her nipples until they were red. In the private elevator, he put her on her knees to suck his cock, his semen spilling into her mouth as the elevator climbed the floors. She never refused and surrendered to him with an unyielding fierceness and loyalty. She did so for almost six months, eternal nights of submission where Ethan tied her to his cross, whipping her ass with a leather lash until she begged for more, fucking her anally for the first time in his basement.

Emily was in love, and although she didn’t like the way Ethan fucked her, she was there, for love, holding onto the hope that one day, he would marry her.

But for Ethan, like any new toy, with each use it lost its charm, and he wanted to see her less and less. In Emily’s position had arrived Agneta, another little secretary just over twenty, but with the devil teetering between her legs, voluptuous curves and a gaze that hinted at sins without limits.

So Emily had been moved to another place, one where Ethan scarcely wandered. Pamela knew it and, with cruelty, fired Emily from Venus Corporated, though she gave her a large severance package to silence her. The young woman, in the midst of her pain, kept a great secret: one that with bitterness she guarded every day, and her obsession with Ethan grew day by day, until it led her to the door of the mansion.

“What are you doing here?” Ethan looked at her surprised; it was a Sunday morning, the rain falling in torrents pounding the windows of the imposing mansion, with soaked gardens and a sky as gray as his mood. He was suffering from a massive hangover from the party the night before at the Gold, his head throbbing, and the last thing he wanted was to see Emily.

“Ethan, you didn’t answer me again, I miss you so much, you know I gave everything for you,” said Emily, devastated, pale as a ghost, with dark circles under her eyes, her wet hair stuck to her face, trembling under a worn coat.

“Emily, I think you’re mistaken, get out of here, okay?” he replied, crossing his arms, his voice as cold as the wind coming through the half-open door.

“You can’t leave me, Ethan... I’m pregnant. It’s yours, our child,” she sobbed, placing a hand on her slightly swollen belly, tears washing her desperate face, but that didn’t move the cruel man.

Ethan let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You’re completely crazy. I want nothing with you, much less a child.”

He went to his desk in the adjacent study, and took out a check. He wrote a large amount—one hundred thousand dollars—and slammed it against her chest, the paper barely crumpling against her wet coat.

“Take this and get an abortion. I’m not going to have a child with you, ever. Get rid of it and disappear from my life.”

She fell to her knees on the cold marble floor, clinging to his legs like a beggar. “Please, Ethan! Don’t leave me, I love you, this baby is ours. I’ll do anything, submit me again, use me however you want, but don’t abandon us. I beg you!” she shouted, sobbing hysterically, her trembling hands pulling at his pants, the running makeup making black streaks on her pale cheeks, her body convulsing in a drama of absolute desperation.

Ethan, with a hardened face, pushed her forcefully, brushing her off like an annoying insect.

“Enough! Get out of here before I call security.” He dragged her out of the mansion, closing the door with a slam that echoed in the empty hall.

She left crying under the torrential rain, and went to her modest apartment in a gray building downtown, a small flat with cracked walls and views of the indifferent city. Desperate, she leaned out the open window, the wind barely whipping the curtains, and made a video call to Ethan.

“If you don’t come for me, I’ll kill myself. I love you, but without you I can’t... goodbye,” she said, with a broken voice.

He, without a shred of compassion, left the house and arrived at the building in his black car, but he did so in the company of Pamela, who was smoking a cigarette in the passenger seat with a sardonic smile. They went up to the floor. Emily, upon seeing them, took a crumpled ultrasound from her pocket and threw it at Ethan’s feet.

“Look at it, it’s our child...” she whispered, before throwing herself backward out the open window, without giving Ethan a single chance to speak or regret what he had said to her at the mansion.

Ethan lunged toward her, shouting “No!”, reaching out his hand in a futile attempt, but he didn’t manage to grab her. The impact below was a dull thud on the wet street. When he realized the image on the ultrasound, it already showed a pregnancy of about four months, clearly visible the tiny baby with defined shape, a little heart beating on the paper, shattering the cold Ethan for an instant.

“Shit! Pamela, what the fuck! It was a baby too big…”

Later, Emily’s family blamed him for her death, suing him furiously, alleging manipulation and abuse. He became a colder and more ruthless man. Pamela was the one who made sure Emily’s family didn’t fully blame him: she manipulated the images from a nearby security camera, subtly editing them so it looked like an accident, not a push, although in reality no one had touched her, but Emily had managed to tell her family that Ethan was the only one responsible for whatever might happen to her. For that reason, Emily was the great secret between Pamela and Ethan; she was never spoken of again, a ghost buried in the past that united them in guilt and silence.