Taken from Day 7

"He appeared to be in more control of himself today, his face a mask of nervous professionalism. He didn't seem to recognize me, or at least he was pretending not to. But I knew. And I decided right then that my strategy with him would be very different. No mistakes, no waiting for punishment. It was time to use some honey.

He began to dictate a technical, boring letter at a nervous, rapid pace. I let him finish. "Thank you, Mr. George," I began, my voice a low, sweet purr. "That was very... thorough. You have such a strong, commanding voice."

He visibly flustered, a dark red blush creeping up his neck. "I... thank you, Miss Thompson."

"There are just a few complicated words in there," I continued, stepping closer to his desk. "I'm not sure of the spelling. Perhaps... if I could come a little closer... you could help me check them?" I leaned over his desk, my already-low-cut blouse gaping open.

"Of-of course," he stammered, his eyes darting from my cleavage to my face and back again.

"It's just so difficult to see from this angle," I said with a theatrical pout. "If I could just... sit here for a moment... it would be so much easier to check everything properly." Without waiting for an answer, I perched myself on his lap.

He let out a small, strangled squeak as my weight settled onto him. He was already hard. I began to grind into him, a slow, deliberate motion, while pretending to review my shorthand notes. "This word here," I murmured, "is it 'procurement' or 'procuration'? You say them so... precisely."

He was panting now, his professionalism completely shattered. I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear. "Mr. George," I whispered. "You seem to be having some trouble with your... concentration. I can help you with that. But first, you're going to help me. Tell me about Project Chimera. Tell me everything you know."