Work Text:
It’s commonplace for people to say they hate their jobs. The long hours, the tedious amounts of work, shitty coworkers, incompetent bosses.
You definitely shared in the sentiment, but the only difference was you didn’t hate your job. You fucking loathed your job.
When you first started working at the studio, it wasn’t so bad. You were assigned as His personal assistant, the seventh one this month according to Elnina when she caught sight of you roaming the halls, getting the “Grand Tour” by Ramb. Your job description was so simple. So painfully, excruciatingly, god damn simple: answer phone calls, manage and schedule His meetings, sorting, filing, and shredding fan mail; sorting, filing, and shredding letters from the execs so He could pretend they had never arrived at His desk.
Sounded simple enough right? A little walk in the park? Yeah. That’s what you thought, too.
By this point, you had lasted a lot longer than the other secretaries, supposedly by months (“Not a forecast I would have predicted!” as Lanino would say) and you’d barely see Him in person. He was always on stage and you? You were tucked away behind a big desk just beyond His door, caged in like a little bird, clacking away at your keyboard. On the rare occasions you did interact with Him, it was to hand Him His cue cards with answers for that day’s quiz show, or to put down any files that were deemed “important enough” to be set on His desk (He had a check list for it. Always. Follow. The checklist.). Sometimes it was to deliver His lunch, and of course His copious amounts of coffee. You wouldn’t look Him in the screen during these interactions, and He would dismiss you with a wave. This was everyday.
But then one day, a little mistake. Nothing too horrific, just a simple misstep that led you into bringing His coffee a few minutes later than He was used to before his meeting with the executives on a new segment they wanted implemented on TV Time. It was already a stressful day for Him, and you didn’t want to exacerbate any tantrums in any way you possibly could. It wasn’t on purpose, honest! Ramb had trouble restocking something just out of reach behind the bar, and you stupidly helped instead of focusing on making His coffee. The second you realized the time you rushed with it in your hands, burning the sensitive skin with the hot liquid. You knocked on the ominous door to the meeting room frantically before pushing it open.
Before you in a big, circular table sat several, well dressed, stoic faced executives; papers, stacked and crumpled alike, clipboards, and laptops covered the surface as they frantically took notes in chicken scratch.
And sitting at the very end of the table, the king Himself, Ant Tenna.
They all turned to face you, mumbling to themselves about you and your ability to have remained as a staple member of Tenna’s staff. Tenna, however, stayed watching straight ahead, hands clasped together on the table, watching the projection of an estimated rise in ratings upon implementing their new segment, not even a single sideways glance. You knew he was frustrated, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode at a moment's notice. He was shaking, just barely, his shoulders tense and a grin on his face that was deadly. You hated when he was like this. Because of your timeliness and loyalty, you were rarely the subject of his ire, but you saw this face when it came to others. It terrified you, you watched your coworkers disappear after that smile. Your goal was to never get that smile. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked down at the ground as you gripped the coffee cup, excusing yourself quietly as everyone continued to look back at the screen. You quietly walked up to Tenna, your hands shaking from the brief surge of attention directed onto you. Upon setting the coffee down, some of it spills, and in a moment that felt like it was in slow motion, a drop falls on his glove. A single drop, nothing more, nothing less. If it were anyone else, it would have been brushed off, a quick apology, an awkward laugh, and an acceptance of said apology.
But this wasn’t just anyone else, now, was it?
You felt the air be vacuumed out of the room, your eyes burning a hole into the little brown speck on Tenna’s pristine white glove. You thought maybe, maybe if you walked away fast enough, he wouldn’t notice, and think it was his own doing. But as luck had it, the TV man was very vigilant, and his screen snapped just barely in the direction of the mistake. It felt like he stayed that way forever. No one else seemed to notice, too busy chattering away to each other to see Tenna slowly turning to face you, the same, horrific grin spread across his screen. The one you worked so hard to avoid. You felt your heart in your throat as you were compelled to look him in the eyes. Your shaking became more violent, tears pricking your eyes in fear.
“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, desperate for forgiveness.
“ Get. Out. ” He whispered back through gritted fangs.
And ever since then, you’ve been his favorite punching bag.
Tenna spent your days in the office running you down like a beaten horse, giving you the most ridiculous requests, verbally abusing you whenever he could. Brutally. And you took it all on the chin, like the walking mat you were.
There were days that sent you home crying, like when he made you bring in his lunch after screaming at you about being hungry, sending you on a wild goose chase to find a meal only a specific diner in all of TV World was able to make, and if you didn’t get it back to him in an allotted amount of time it was your head. You ran in the cold, your lungs burning in the icy cold weather, rushed the chef, and brought it back just in the nick of time, only to tell you he was going out for dinner with the big wigs and threw out the meal in front of you in the trashcan.
There were days that made you cry in the broom closet, like when you got his coffee order wrong, and he made you remake it 36 different times, stating it was either too cold or too hot, too sweet or too bitter, too much or too little, too strong or too weak, etc., etc., until he told you he didn’t want coffee anymore, not to bother with it anymore and that instead he wanted a drink from the vending machine.
There were days that made you cry in front of him and your colleagues while he screamed at you for 20 minutes about being incompetent for a simple spelling error in an email sent from you to the head of the set crew about how he wanted “ crow print” instead of “ cow print” for a cowboy themed physical challenge.
It was days like that where you sat in the break room, angrily eating your cheap, slightly soggy complimentary sandwich from the green room that you wished a crazed fan would come in and free all of you from Tenna’s wrath.
After a few months or so, you were used to this treatment. It didn’t feel any less bad, but you were able to find ways to manage the stress and depression from his tyranny. You daydreamed about his demise, about him disappearing, about him suffering by your hand in the worst possible way. You would go home, print pictures out of him and rip them to shreds while screaming and setting them on fire. You screamed profanities about him into your pillow at night before you fell asleep. All of it was to make you feel a bit better, and it worked. Sometimes.
Sometimes, in the throes of your anger, you felt a pulsating in between your legs. You don’t know when it started, but at some point in your rotation of self soothing, you started to touch yourself. You imagined Tenna beneath you, a bulge in his pants that you grinded on with the bottom of your shoe. You imagined holding onto him by his tie as you rode him at such a fast pace, enough so that he wasn't even able to enjoy the feeling of your warm insides around his cock. Your climax usually came as you pictured Tenna begging for your forgiveness, and the anguish in his cries when you denied him.
You’d go to work the next day after those nights, especially angry, the guilt and disgust washing over you when you laid your eyes on him. You’d spit in his coffee and watch him drink it those days with a sweet smile.
This was all normal for your work week.
Today, however, was different. The phone rang. Nothing out of the ordinary, to your knowledge. So you answered the landline, tone perky and happy to be of help like you were so good at portraying despite the abuse. “Good afternoon, thank you for calling Mr. Tenna’s office, how can I help you today?”
“Heya, numbuh 7.” You closed your eyes to physically restrain yourself from screaming. You hated that nickname, you hated that no one in this damn building cared enough to remember your name despite introducing yourself over and over again, in person, emails, and phone calls. They had all given you the nickname “Seven” or some variation of that (“Aha! Get it? Cause you’re the seventh secretary in the joint! Haha! Laugh! Laugh! Why aren’t you laughing?” Pippins told you once), and you had resigned to just accepting it. When you opened your eyes, you forced a face aching smile, speaking through your teeth.
“Hello, Zapper! How can I help you today?”
“Yeah, hey, listen, Boss is on in Lot B today in a couple uh minutes and-” The rest of that sentence didn’t matter to you. You checked the calendar on the wall behind you as Zapper continued, scanning for today’s date. It was Monday, you always filmed on Lot A on Monday.
“Um, sorry, Zapper, but Mr. Tenna is set to film on Lot A today.” You interrupted, eyebrows furrowed, swiveling back to your computer screen.
“Ehhh, actually, says right ‘ere on da schedule: Mistah Ant Tenna’s TV Time, Lot B, Monday, 7 pm.”
“That doesn’t sound right. Check it again.” It wasn’t a request.
Tenna was an absolute creature of habit. There was no room for error in his schedule and everything had to go precisely according to plan, right down to the last minute. He wouldn’t make such a drastic change like this. This had to have, much to your horror, been a mistake on your part.
Now, Lot A and B, they were exactly the same, nothing different about them at all except for their locations, and that was the problem. Lot A was on the far east of the set, closest to His office, while Lot B was all the way on the opposite side, far west. It took a solid 10 minutes in the studio golf cart to get to there from where you were. If Zapper’s untimely news was correct, then the entire schedule for the day was completely screwed.
You were completely screwed for the rest of your working life .
There was a silence from Zapper over the phone, before Zapper spoke again. “Nope. Still says Lot B, 7 pm. Look, the crowd’s already startin’ ta file in, where are ya?” Your eyes flickered towards the clock.
6:51
You felt your stomach lurch, like you were about to throw up today’s breakfast bagel from the Green Room. You shot straight up, your heart quickening in its chest. “We’ll be over as soon as possible. You stall, stall until we get there Zapper.” You didn’t wait for Zapper to respond before you slammed down the phone back on the receiver and turned on your earpiece to send out a message to anyone who could hear you, your heart pounding as you hurried to Tenna’s location.
“Transportation unit, please bring in a cart to Mr. Tenna’s dressing room, effective immediately. Don’t make him wait.” As soon as you received your ETA of about 20 seconds, you hurried to the dressing room, not even knocking as you threw the doors open. No use in groveling, you needed to move him and move him expeditiously.
“Mr. Tenna! There’s been a mishap, and we need to move now!” Your voice trembled in fear. The pippins working on him standing on the vanity desk froze, their gaze flickering between the two of you. With Tenna’s back turned to you, you could see his shoulders rising, his antenna twitching. He grabbed his makeup bib and slammed it on the desk with such a force, Pippins had nearly fallen from the table. You all flinched, watching him rise from His chair slowly, his awesome size eclipsing the lightbulbs of his mirror. It felt like the time you spilled coffee on Him all those months ago, a slow, grueling head turn to look at you, a grin on his face that could freeze hell itself over, bared fangs making you feel sick.
“What do you mean , ‘mishap’ ?” His speakers warbled his voice, making it sound like something had possessed him. A monster. A demon.
You wish you could disappear, shrink away and never come back. You gathered whatever courage was left in your system (if any) and explained as best as you could with the lump forming in your throat. “F-filming will..b-be on Lot B tonight. T-the cart’ll be-e here in…t-ten seconds.” You whispered.
“And who was in charge of that scheduling ‘mishap’, hm?” He tilted his head.
You wanted the both of you to die right then and there.
“Me.” You whimpered, tears starting to stream down your face.
Pippins hopped off the table and ran out the room, not sticking around for any of the mess that was about to ensue. You wish that could have been you, just leaving to avoid collateral damage. Tenna stared at you so hard you thought you could combust right then and there, you felt your heart being squeezed by his very gaze, but his silence was what really scared you the most.
Behind you was a honk, the cart making itself present, your saving grace, your angel from heaven. Tenna looked just past you, then back at you again.
“This conversation isn’t over.” He body checks you on his way out, knocking you down to the ground with his large body. He gets on the cart and disappears. You hated him, you fucking hated him so much it made your body hot, it made your hands sting not to be able to hit him, your legs ache from not being able to kick him. You wanted him to suffer as much as he made you miserable. But all you could do right now was sob into your hands, and wait for the next two and a half hours to pass.
And what a painful two hours that was.
From what you heard, Tenna arrived a minute or two late to the set, not that the fans cared too much. They were crazy about him the second he stepped on stage, and the filming went well, too. Jokes landed, the quizzes went well, the physical challenges were exhilarating, he was as charming and as loveable as ever. Everything went perfectly without a hitch. But as he signed off and turned to leave, he tripped over a wire that he wasn’t used to being there on Lot A. It was just a little stumble, they told you. No one even noticed. But the brief staticky screen on his display was enough to let them know you specifically were fucked.
Two and a half hours later, the audience, as well as the workers (save for the straggler security Zappers), had left, leaving the building empty. You had stayed at your desk when you got yourself together, staring into space, terrified of what was to come. Pippins later came and said that you were stupid for sticking around, to run away while you still could before he left. But you were paralyzed in fear, and sat and waited.
You heard him before you saw him, each clicking of his dress shoes on the floor echoed in the silence. They were slow, like he was just casually walking around his studio, his hands behind his back as he looked straight ahead. You flinched with each step. Then there was silence. Then there was more silence. Then, you heard your name.
The first time anyone in this office had ever spoke it, and it was a death sentence.
You stood quickly, silently, head down and hands clasped together. You didn’t look at him.
“Yes, Mr. Tenna?”
“Come step into my office, would you?” It was such a relaxed tone. It struck the fear of God into you as you walked out from behind the desk and quickly into his office. You wish you could say goodbye to Ramb, to Elnina and Lanino, the only ones who actually seemed to pity you during your time here, but there was no time for that. Not ever again.
You walked into his office, all the furniture was oversized just to compensate for his height, making your small, insignificant self feel even more small, and more insignificant.
“That chair, right there.” He motioned to the chair sitting in front of his massive desk as he slammed the door so hard you thought it would splinter off from the sheer force. “Go ahead and sit there for me.” He said evenly. And you obeyed, rushing to sit down. Tenna’s heels continued to click as he went to sit at his own table.
There was a beat of silence again.
“So.” He finally spoke. “Let’s talk about our little incident today, shall we?” You peeked at him through your eyelashes, his smile striking in the worst way possible, resting his chin on the heels of his hands. You stared back down at your hands, white knuckling the fabric of your work slacks. You thought it was best to just shut up and take whatever verbal lashing was coming your way. “Speak.”
“Yes, Mr. Tenna.” You replied quickly, your tone defeated.
“Were you aware today was Monday?"
“Yes, Mr. Tenna.”
“And you are aware that on MONDAY -“ he slammed his fists on the table, smiling all the way. You flinched, shutting your eyes tightly. “-We film on Lot A.”
“Y-Yes…Mr. Tenna.” Tears welled in your eyes.
“And where did we film today?” He asked, condescendingly.
“L-Lot B, Mr. Tenna…” He got up from his seat, slowly walking over to where you sat. He circled around you for a brief moment before he stopped right behind you. This was his favorite tactic with you, scaring you, making your skin crawl. You swore he got a sick kick out of it with how often he did this when you were in trouble. You hated it, you hated being scared, you hated how he knew just how to get under your skin. You FUCKING hated him.
He swooped in front of you, slamming his hands on the arms of the chair, caging you in between it and him, his breath hot against your face. You leaned back as much as you could, but you were unable to escape him, his face mere centimeters away from yours in another intimidation tactic. He was so close you could smell the coffee and cigarettes on him, feel the static popping from his screen. “Tonight was a disaster because of you.” He hissed. “You made me late, you threw me off my rhythm, I looked like a fucking fool out there and it’s all your fault. You insolent little wretch.”
You sobbed, wishing you could cover your face behind your hands to cry, but couldn’t. Your face was hot from the tears and embarrassment, and you just wanted to scream. “I’m sorry, Mr. Tenna.”
“Oh, sorry for what?” He spat, pushing off from his stance in front of you to go back to circling you, like a vulture waiting for its prey to die out. “Sorry for humiliating me? For sabotaging me? For making tonight such a shitshow?!”
“Please, it was a mistake-”
“Oh it was a mistake? A mistake everyone! It’s okay because this little brat made a mistake!” He mocked you, sneering. “You know what was a mistake? Hiring you. I thought you were competent, I thought you were actually smarter than them.” He poked the side of his temple angrily. “I thought you actually had a brain up there, but you’re just as fucking idiotic as the rest of them. Aren’t you?” When you didn’t respond, you were met with a forceful spin on your chair, making you face him as he leaned in again. “I said, aren't you?! ” He hissed.
You couldn’t do anything but nod your head, your tear streaked face puffy.
“Say it so you could hear yourself.”
“Y-yes, Mr. Te-Tenna.” All you could do was sob your apologies, beg for forgiveness in the middle of your complete meltdown in front of your boss. You were humiliated, degraded, any semblance of self worth completely diminished by Tenna’s cruelty. Why was he like this? All you wanted was to be good at your job, all you needed was for him to tell you you did a good job. No matter what you did, it never felt like enough.
You didn’t feel like enough.
Tenna sighed after a bit, resigning back to his desk after a bit. He leaned back in his chair, completely unphased by your sobbing, hands behind his head, relaxed. “It’s really such a shame it’s come to this, but I just cannot continue to deal with your incompetent, inefficient, unprofessional behavior in the work place.” He frowned, in a casual tone, like you were talking about the weather. You knew what was about to come, you knew it was only bound to happen. You felt sick. “We’re gonna have to let you go.”
You cried harder, a mix of euphoric release and soul crushing agony washing over you. You finally hid your hands in your face, sobbing hysterically. You were free, but at what cost? Tenna said nothing, choosing to watch you cry in silence instead. All you got out of him was a long, annoyed sigh. He was sick of your crying. You fucking hated him, You fucking hated him. “Are you done yet? You can leave my office now.” He picked up whatever paper was on the desk, looking it over with disinterest, as if he didn’t just completely halt your life with a single sentence.
You stumbled to get up, your crying dying down as you rose from your chair and turned to walk to the door, away from the office, away from work, away from Tenna forever.
Forever.
Something stopped you as you put your hand on the doorknob. All the months of abuse, all the mistreatment, shame, and vulgarity thrown at you, all of it came rushing back into your mind. The feelings of sadness, of vitriol, of anger, of rage came bubbling up, and forced you to speak.
“Fuck you.” You said softly, almost surprising yourself at the sound of your voice.
“Excuse me?” Came Tenna’s voice after a minute of silence, like he wasn’t sure if that was you.
“I said…I said fuck you.” You turned around, staring him right in the face, not a single shred of fear in you.
Tenna slowly stood up, static gracing his screen. “Would you like to repeat that?”
This was it, this was your opportunity to release all that stress out of your system. You’d never see Tenna again after this. What was there to really stop you?
“You heard me.” You whispered, your voice wavering but never faltering. “I said fuck you. Fuck you.” You started to walk back to his office, your confidence growing with every step. “You egotistical, rude, self praising, arrogant fucking bastard! I fucking worked my ass off for months, months putting up with your abuse, your harassment, your shitty fucking attitude and for what?! For nothing!” Your heart wanted to break out of your chest.
Tenna stared at you in disbelief. “You fucking bitch.” He huffed.
“Me?!” You screeched, stepping up to his desk. His size was intimidating, but your soul wouldn’t let you back down, you were in it now. “I’ve had to deal with a fucking brat my entire work career here because you don’t know how to act like a grown up.”
Tenna chuckled cruelly, crouching down to get to your eye level, tilting his head. “Oh yeah? Tell me more.”
Your breathing hitched in your throat, but you jabbed a finger into his chest. “You’re such a child. Throwing temper tantrums when you don’t get your way, crying when your shitty ideas fail, taking your own anger on yourself out on your employees because all you are is a fucking bully.”
“Keep going, doll, you’re almost making me care.”
You seethed, your hand soon finding his tie as you yanked it closer to you. What the fuck was happening?
“Everyone here fucking hates you.” You spat, trying to sound as hurtful as possible. “But no one hates you as much as I do.”
“Do you really?” Tenna asked, his breath ghosting on your face.
And you broke.
You yanked Tenna in, closing the gap and crushing your lips against his. He wasted no time reciprocating, hooking his hands just under your ass to lift you up and set you on his desk as you felt his teeth biting down on your lips. His hands got to work ripping your shirt off, exposing the soft skin underneath the fabric, the sound of buttons flying around the office. Your own hands yanking off his stupid red blazer that you saw in your nightmares, beneath it, his suspender buckles gleamed tauntingly under the lights of his room, his dress shirt now a bit crinkled from your rough gabbing. Tenna pulled away, moving to lick and kiss at your jaw.
“Yeah, I fucking do.” You hissed as he bit down at your pulse point hard. “I fucking hate you, you make me sick.”
“Tell me more, ” He ran his tongue soothingly over the newly forming bruise, going to pinch at your nipples. You threw your head back in pleasure and Tenna whispered in your ear, his tone patronizing. “Because it doesn’t look like you hate me right now.”
“Shut up, shut the fuck up!” You took your shirt off all the way, tossing it to the side somewhere as Tenna shoved you away from him. He stared you down as he rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, exposing his metallic forearms.
“Why don’t you be good and take those fucking pants off so I can see those pretty parts of yours?” You hated him so much, but god, if his words didn’t strike you right to your core. You reached down to unbutton your slacks. “Christ, how slow can you be?” Tenna shoved you all the way down to the desk, and with a quick motion, yanked your pants off. He sighed contently as he dropped to his knees, forcing your legs apart as he leaned down to lick at your groin through the fabric of your underwear.
“Holy shit!” You hissed, your eyes flying wide open in shock. You weren’t expecting Tenna down there at all, but then again, you weren’t expecting any of this at all. You wanted to prop yourself up to look at him down there, but he quickly shoved you back down, continuing his attack at your center, chuckling as he prodded you with his tongue. You squeezed your eyes shut and whined, throwing your head back.
“You’re still bitching up there?” His voice vibrated against your flesh, earning him another whine.
“Take my fucking underwear off, you asshole!” You begged. Tenna’s fingers slipped his fingers into your waistband, and you felt his gaze burn a hole into you.
“Ask nicely.”
“Fuck you, take my damn underwear off now! ” You commanded.
Tenna sucked his teeth and started to get up. “If you’re going to be rude, maybe I shouldn’t.” He smirked and returned to his position between your legs when you whimpered a hasty ‘please’. “Aw, see? Was that so hard? Give them a round of applause, folks.” His speakers played back the sound of a cheering crowd as he pulled your underwear down, throwing it behind his shoulder. You moaned as the cool air of his office hit your skin. Tenna ran his hands up your legs, pausing at your thighs to give them a rough squeeze before cooing softly, spreading your lips just slightly to get a better look.
“Look how pretty,” He marveled, prodding gently at your hole with his thumb. “It’s so cute, I can’t believe a little brat like you had been hiding this from me.” He leaned in, blowing air gently on your clit, huffing as he watched your hole twitch at the stimulation. “You know if you had just given this to me in the first place, we wouldn’t have gotten into that little spat.”
“You think I would have ever in a million years let you touch me, you’re dea-AH!” Tenna latched onto you, sucking at your clit harshly. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his head, eyes screwed shut as you reached down, grabbing at him Antenna and yanking. Tenna groaned, slipping his tongue into you as his fingers dug deeper into the soft flesh of your thigh. There was definitely going to be marks all over your body once you were done, but you didn’t care, the eventual shame of the aftermath was harshly eclipsed by Tenna prodding your G-spot repeated with his snake of a tongue while he rubbed at your clit with the pad of his thumb. You panted underneath him, your orgasm already building embarrassingly fast as he worked you over. You tried to focus on something else, anything else to hold you off for as long as possible. You counted the amount of times he’s made you remake his coffee in a day, you thought of all the times he made you cry, but none of it relieved the pressure building in your lower stomach. As your mind raced, you could hear his free hand moving to mess with his belt buckle; the clinking sound of the golden metal, the noise of the leather slipping out of the loops, and the eventual sound of it hitting the ground.
Tenna finally relented, and you could feel strings of saliva break off as he pulled away from your abused pussy. He panted softly, slipping his hands down his pants to free his aching cock from its prison. He wrapped a tight hand around the base, stroking himself eagerly while he peppered kisses where he could find his fingerprints bruised onto your skin. You finally propped yourself onto your elbows to look down at him. It felt so strange to see the man you hated so much in between your legs, his screen soaked from the mess he made between your legs. This was, at best, morally wrong, but there was something so exhilarating about it that you threw caution to the wind and watched him press a kiss onto the mound of your pussy. He tilted his screen up to look at you, the display of static snow registering as an eerie feeling in the midst of your lustful haze. You stared at each other briefly, panting, silent.
Then Tenna smirked.
And that made you sick all over again.
You gritted your teeth and grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him up to kiss him. The taste of your arousal mixed with his spit sent you into a tizzy, and you clawed at him like a rabid animal, dragging your nails down his back as you pulled him on top of you. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, wrapping itself around yours as the kiss deepened. You felt a string of drool crawl out of your mouth and down your cheek.
“Tell me again how much you hate me.” He said between kisses, propping your feet on the desk with your legs far apart. He loomed over you, horrifying and arousing all at once as he held himself up with a firm hand on the desk. He grabbed the base of his cock with his free hand and slapped it on your soaked slit, threads of his spit and your slick sprinkled onto your thighs from the force before he crudely rubbed it against your clit, smiling wickedly at your moaning. “Tell me you hate me while I fuck you on my desk.”
“You make me sick.” You groaned, gripping onto his shoulders tightly. “Every day I come to work and hate you a little more than I did the day before.”
Tenna hummed softly at your words, nudging at your hole with the head of his dick. “Keep going.”
You internally braced yourself, your eyes never leaving his. “You’re the worst person I’ve ever met, I wish I never came to this stupid job!” ” You felt him start to sink into you, stretching you out to accommodate his size. It hurt so good, your body screamed in agony while clenching tightly around him, silently begging for more. Tears formed at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over in pleasure.
“That’s it, let it all out. You’re halfway there already.” He goaded.
“I hate you!” You sobbed, clutching onto the fabric of his shirt. “I wish I had never met you!”
Tenna bottomed out inside you in one fell swoop, keeping his hips pressed firmly against yours as you desperately try to get used to his size. You were so thankful he decided to do this while you two were alone, because you were certain the scream you let out would have alerted someone nearby.
“God, you are so fucking tight.” He hissed, moving his hips at a rapid pace after he deemed you had had enough time to adjust. Tenna drilled into you, uncaring and gracelessly, seeking out his own pleasure in the warmth of your insides. You were a mess beneath him, screaming, sobbing, groaning for him to fuck you harder, faster, deeper. Your hair stuck to your face, sticky with sweat and tears and drool, eyes half lidded, a beautiful disaster, all at the hands of your boss you wished would rot in hell.
“Fuuuck, yes! Oh my god, yes, right fucking there!” You whined, your body trembling as Tenna pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
He groaned frustratedly and covered your mouth with his large hands, silencing you completely, the only sounds in the room now were of his own voice and the violent slapping of your hips smashing together as he railed you onto the desk. “You talk so fucking much, did you know that?” He hissed, your muffled screams making him press his hands even harder into your face, closing off the airway you got from breathing through your nose. “That’s what made you so god damn annoying. All you wanted to do was talk, and talk, and talk .” Tenna’s free hand reached down, his finger tips reaching for your clit, rubbing in small, speedy circles. You felt your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “All I ever wanted was to stare at your ass while you walked away. That’s the only reason I kept you for so long, this pretty little body of yours walking around the studio. I knew you’d let me fuck you at some point. They all fucking do.” Tenna brought his hand to his mouth and spat on it before bringing it back down to continue rubbing at your clit again while he spoke through gritted teeth. “I knew it was just a matter of time before you were on my desk like this, cumming on my cock like a whore. That’s all you are, isn’t it? Just a pathetic little slut that cries and complains when the work gets too hard? Hm?” He moved his hand from your face, striking you across the cheek hard enough that a welt in the shape of his hand print bloomed on your skin, red and puffy, a perfect temporary mark of his handiwork. You shrieked, and he grabbed at your face, the strength that came with his size allowing him to lift your upper body from the desk. “Fucking say it.”
You felt yourself at the breaking point, and Tenna’s relentless hands weren’t letting up. You sobbed out what he wanted to hear, your trembling hands gripping onto his forearms, helping to keep yourself up as you stared him down. “I’m a pathetic little slut, I’m such a whore for you, Mr. Tenna, please, please fuck me harder, give me your cock, I need it, I need it! ”
Tenna grinned widely at your profession, nodding his head as he fucked you harder, squeezing your face a little tighter. “There we go! Say it again. Say it while you’re cumming on me. I know you’re about to. I can feel you squeezing around me like a bitch in heat.”
“God, I fucking hate you!” You screamed. You shut your eyes tightly, start swarming your vision. You were so close, so painfully close and tears fell faster down your face.
“You hate me so much, but you forgot all about that when you’re getting railed by me, huh? You love this dick in you so much you don’t even care about what I’ve done to you as long as you get me inside you, huh?”
“Oh my fucking god, yes! Yes, yes, yes-” Your chanting continued as Tenna brushed up perfectly against that bundle of nerves deep inside of you, over and over and over again.
“Naughty, naughty.” Tenna brought your face closer to his, the tip of his tongue trailing itself up your cheek slowly, lapping up the tears you cried. He trailed it down to your throat after, nipping at the sensitive skin harshly and causing another bruise to begin to form. “Go on and cum on my cock for me.” He whispered cruelly.
You were always a good secretary, doing as you were told without a single question. And this time was no different.
With Tenna’s simultaneous attacks on your pussy, you became beautifully undone. You tensed up, the feeling of warm liquid rushing out of you was extremely prominent as you screamed out a wordless orgasm. You wish you were able to feel embarrassed about squirting all over his dick, but even while you reached the apex of your climax, Tenna continued to snap his hips in and out of you. He groaned lowly, looking down at the mess you’ve made.
“Holy shit,” he half laughed, looking back up at you. “Squirting all over me. I knew you needed this, I knew you needed me. Fuck I’m gonna cum.” He spoke through his teeth, squeezing you harder as his own orgasm wasn’t far behind. “Beg for it. Beg for me.” The overwhelming sensation of his overstimulation made your vision blur out, unable to keep your head up as you spasmed around him.
“Ple-eaase, please, Mr. Tenna, cum in me! Fill me, please, please !” Tenna threw you back down onto the desk, holding himself up as he rammed his hips into you a few times more before he came deep inside you, the soft buzzing feeling of his cum settling deep inside you.
You two stayed like that for a moment, heaving and sweaty, limp and shaking from your sorry excuse for love making. You stared at the ceiling for what felt like ever, the weight of what you had just done finally resting heavily in your mind while Tenna pushed himself up and out of you, leaving you sprawled and panting on his desk.
It was quick, awkward and angry. Shameful even. No aftercare from the boss, because why should there be? You would need to care for someone to actually want to make sure they were okay after what you two had just done. Tenna slipped himself back into his pants and grabbed his belt. He looked at the mess between your legs, reached out, and prodded a finger in there again. A groan slipped from you as curled his finger and scooped the mixture of your cum out of you, slipping it into his mouth and sucking it clean off. He looked at you briefly, expression unreadable before he grabbed his blazer and started to walk out the door.
“Clean yourself up and get out of my office. I expect you to be in my office first thing tomorrow morning for a performance review.” And he left without another word.
You pick yourself up from the desk after a while, looking down at your body, littered in bruises, scratches and bite marks from him. You knew this was going to hurt tomorrow morning. You knew you were going to regret this the next time you saw him.
God you fucking hate your job.