When you read this job, it's interesting to watch from the side.

Eyes widen, eyelashes tremble in bewildered. Throws it in the heat, then in the cold. Hands close and re-open the page on the Internet, on the job search site.

Is it possible? Can a job search be like that? Is it possible that the first workplace can realize the desires hidden deep inside, hidden, vicious?

It is like a gift for a new year, for a birthday, for the completion of the institute. In your depraved dreams you are on your knees, you are humiliated, you are needed for pleasure. They use you ... They admire you ... They humiliate you ... You serve ...

You are a slave! Sweet, attractive, caressing ear. Such a wonderful word.

How much time already, how many contacts already, how many boys already ... at least one knows what you need. If only one looked imperative, pointed to a place at his feet. At least one would not seek you, and allowed to be there. Allowed to kiss hands. And not only hands ...

Dreams, what sweet dreams. All the pictures flash before your half-closed eyes. Everything that she dreamed, imagined, fantasized. All that I wanted for a long night, when my hands didn't get out of the crotch. Everything for the sake of buying clothes, toys. For what she posed in front of the mirror, appreciated how He would see you.

And suddenly - a job. “Looking for a secretary-bottom. Duties of the bottom ... Send resume ... ".

No, it can not be.

No, maybe.

Can not be! How can work suggest this?

But ... why not? Isn't a vacancy made up so that only the initiated will understand?

Are not you - dedicated? You understand everything right.

You continue to convince yourself, and your hands are already in the usual place.

Toes on the nipples, teasing and squeezing. The other hand stuck into the flaming flesh.

You imagine how it can be.

Fantasy is already working. What is behind this job? Looking for a secretary-lower ...

Do you work. You are the secretary.

Stockings. Skirt, no panties. Vibrator or cork. Studs.

Working clothes of the secretary.

Secretaries-bottom.

Whores Slaves. Humiliated bitches.

You are called to give the task. Piercing, domineering look. Feet tremble. You're ready to fall on your knees. But it is impossible. Only by permission. Or by order.

He knows perfectly well what is in you. He knows because He allowed.

He is your Master.

Oh, if He saw you now! Your legs are shamelessly already spread out on a chair, head thrown back, lips bitten. Hands that have the strength to squeeze the chest, presenting the clamps on thirsting for a rough caress nipples. Hands wander through the body, imagining that He is studying you. Hands on the current hole, imagining that it was He who ordered. And the ass is also not forgotten.

The lines are blurred, then readable again. They dance in the eyes, they cause desire.

The desire to write, send a resume.

Desire to fill this vacancy ...

About the summary we will talk again. In the meantime, those interested can send feedback: