“I let him fuck me. All of my holes. And he came inside me.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I sat there, frozen, staring at her as she stood in front of me, her face flushed but her eyes steady. She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t apologizing. She was just… telling me. Like it was some casual update about her day.

“What?” I finally managed to choke out, my voice sounding distant, like it wasn’t even mine.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, and leaned against the kitchen counter. “You heard me. My boss. He’s been piling work on me for months, making my life hell. And today… I just couldn’t take it anymore. So I did what I had to do.”

My mind raced, trying to piece together what she was saying. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. This was my girlfriend—the woman I loved, the one who always talked about loyalty and trust. The one who swore she’d never let anyone disrespect her like that.

“Wait,” I said, holding up a hand like I could stop the conversation from spiraling further. “You’re saying you… you slept with your boss? To get him off your back?”

She nodded, folding her arms across her chest. “It wasn’t just sleeping with him,” she said, her voice low but firm. “He wanted… more. And I gave it to him. Everything. It was the only way to make him stop. To keep my job.”

I felt sick. My stomach twisted into knots, bile rising in my throat. I wanted to scream, to throw something, to demand answers. But all I could do was sit there, staring at her, waiting for her to explain how the hell we got here.

It started small, she told me. Her boss, Mark, had always been demanding. A perfectionist. The kind of guy who would nitpick every little detail and expect you to work overtime without complaint. At first, she thought it was just his management style. Harsh, sure, but manageable.

But then it escalated. More projects. Longer hours. Impossible deadlines. She’d come home exhausted, barely able to keep her eyes open during dinner. I tried to help where I could—cooking meals, picking up extra chores—but it wasn’t enough. She was drowning, and no matter how much I tried to throw her a lifeline, Mark kept pulling her under.

“He’s relentless,” she said one night, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

I begged her to quit, to find another job. But she refused. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to find work right now?” she snapped. “I can’t just walk away. Not without a backup plan.”

So she stayed. And Mark pushed harder.

Today had been the breaking point. She’d been working late again, finishing up a report that Mark had dumped on her desk that morning. When she finally went to his office to hand it in, he barely glanced at it before tossing it aside.

“You’re slipping, Jessica,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his cold eyes drilling into her. “I expected better from you.”

She’d been trying to hold it together all week, but something about the way he said it—like she was nothing, like all her effort meant nothing—made her snap.

“What do you want from me?” she demanded, her voice shaking with anger. “I’m doing everything I can. What more do you want?”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just stared at her with that same infuriating smirk. Then, slowly, he stood up and walked around his desk, closing the distance between them.

“Everything,” he said softly, his gaze dropping to her lips. “I want everything.”

And that’s when she made the choice.

“Are you serious?” I interrupted, my voice cracking. “You just… you just decided to sleep with him? Just like that?”

She flinched but didn’t look away. “It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t… premeditated. I just… I saw an opportunity. A way to end it. To make him leave me alone.”

“By letting him use you?” I shot back, my hands clenching into fists.

Her jaw tightened, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of guilt in her eyes. “I didn’t see it as using me. I saw it as taking control. For once, I was calling the shots. I was the one deciding what happens next.”

I shook my head, unable to wrap my mind around it. “And what happened next?”

She hesitated, biting her lip. Then, slowly, she started to describe it.

Mark hadn’t waited for her to change her mind. As soon as he saw the shift in her expression—the defiance melting into resignation—he closed the gap between them, his hands gripping her hips as he pressed her against the edge of his desk. His mouth was on hers before she could protest, his tongue forcing its way past her lips in a kiss that was far from gentle.

She didn’t fight it. Instead, she kissed him back, her hands tangling in his hair as she matched his intensity. It wasn’t passion. It wasn’t desire. It was survival. If this was what it took to finally get him off her back, then fine. She’d give him what he wanted.

His hands moved quickly, unbuttoning her blouse and sliding it off her shoulders. She shivered as the cool air hit her skin, but she didn’t stop him. Even as he unhooked her bra and cupped her breasts roughly, she stayed quiet, focusing on the fact that this was temporary. That soon, it would be over.

“Good girl,” he murmured against her neck, his breath hot against her skin. “You’re going to make this worth my while, aren’t you?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she reached for his belt, unbuckling it with trembling fingers. He groaned as she freed him, his cock already hard and throbbing in her hand.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding.

She obeyed without hesitation, sinking to the floor in front of him. He tangled his fingers in her hair, guiding her mouth to his length, and she took him in willingly, her tongue circling the tip before taking him deeper. He tasted bitter, salty, but she pushed the thought aside, focusing on the rhythm of her movements.

Mark didn’t last long. With a groan, he pulled her off him and spun her around, bending her over the desk. She braced herself against the surface, her heart pounding as he positioned himself behind her. There was no warning, no foreplay. Just the sharp sting of him entering her, stretching her, filling her completely.

She bit down on her lip to stifle a cry, her nails digging into the wood of the desk as he fucked her with a rough, punishing pace. It hurt, but she didn’t stop him. She couldn’t. Not when this was the price she had to pay.

When he finally came, it was deep inside her, his body shuddering as he spilled himself within her. She stayed still, waiting for him to pull out, but he didn’t. Instead, he gripped her hips tighter, keeping her in place as he ground into her, milking every last drop.

“Don’t move,” he growled, his breath ragged. “Not until I’m done.”

She obeyed, staying perfectly still until he finally stepped back, leaving her bent over the desk, exposed and trembling.

“And then what?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

She looked at me then, her eyes empty. “Then I cleaned myself up, got dressed, and came home. To you.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. What could I even say? How could I possibly process this?

Before I could figure it out, she turned and walked away, leaving me sitting there, staring at the space where she’d been. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, my emotions spinning out of control. Betrayal. Anger. Confusion. And underneath it all, a sick, twisted part of me wondering if I could ever look at her the same way again.

“Jessica,” I called after her, my voice breaking. “We need to talk about this.”

But she didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow down. And as I sat there in the silence, I realized I had no idea what to do next.

Jessica stood in the doorway, her eyes pleading, her body trembling. She looked at me like she was waiting for my permission to step forward, as if crossing the threshold without it would break something between us irreparably. I could see the guilt etched into her face, but there was something else too—something desperate, almost primal.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of what she was about to ask. “I need you to… reclaim me.” Her hands fidgeted at her sides, fingers tangling together as though she were trying to ground herself.

I stared at her, my chest tightening. My mind raced, trying to make sense of her words. Reclaim her? What did that even mean? And yet, deep down, I knew. The way her lips quivered, the way her gaze dropped to the floor before flicking back up to meet mine—it wasn’t just an apology. It was a plea. A demand.

“Jess…” I started, but she cut me off, stepping closer.

“No, listen. Mark… he—he took something from me. Something I didn’t realize I was giving away. And now…” She paused, swallowing hard. “Now I feel like I need to take it back. But I can’t do it alone. I need you. I need you to remind me who I belong to.” Her voice was low, almost a growl, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

Her words hung heavy in the air, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. There was no hesitation in her now, no fear—just raw, unfiltered determination. She reached for the hem of her blouse, slowly pulling it over her head. Beneath it, her skin glowed in the dim light, every curve and contour exposed. My breath hitched as she undid the clasp of her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts heaved with every ragged breath she took, her nipples already hard, begging for attention.

“Tell me what he did,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I didn’t know why I asked. Maybe part of me wanted to hear it, to understand. Or maybe I just needed to punish myself further.

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, her hands moving to the button of her jeans. As she slid them down her legs, she began to speak, her voice steady but laced with something dark.

“He started with my mouth,” she said, stepping out of her jeans and kicking them aside. “Made me kneel on the floor while he sat in his chair, like I was nothing more than a convenience. He held my head and made me take him until I choked.” She paused, her fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties. “Then he bent me over his desk, tore these off—” She tugged at the fabric, sliding it down her thighs. “And he took me from behind. Hard. Fast. Like he owned me.”

Her panties joined the pile on the floor, and she stood there, completely bare, her body trembling with every word. Her hands moved to cover herself instinctively, but she stopped, forcing them back to her sides.

“And then…” Her voice wavered, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. “He made me turn around. Made me look at him while he… while he finished inside me.”

The image burned itself into my brain, unbidden. Jessica, pinned beneath him, submitting to him in ways I’d never imagined. A fire ignited in my chest, hot and consuming. Anger. Jealousy. Possessiveness. It all swirled together, threatening to consume me.

“Show me,” I said, my voice rough.

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she turned, presenting herself to me. Her ass was still slightly red, faint marks lingering where his hands had gripped her. She spread her legs slightly, revealing the glistening wetness between them.

“This is what he did,” she said, her voice shaking now. “He claimed me. But I don’t want him. I want you.”

I stepped forward, my hand reaching out to trace the marks on her skin. She flinched at my touch but didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into it, arching her back ever so slightly.

“I thought…” She trailed off, her breath hitching as my fingers dipped lower, brushing against her folds. “I thought if I gave him what he wanted, he’d stop. But he won’t. Not unless I make it clear that I’m not his.”

My fingers pressed deeper, finding her already slick, already ready. She moaned softly, her hips pushing back against my hand.

“So please,” she begged, her voice breaking. “Take me back. Show me who I really belong to.”

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I grabbed her by the hips, spinning her around and pressing her against the wall. Her eyes met mine, wide and pleading, and I kissed her, hard and possessive. Her lips parted instantly, letting me in, her tongue tangling with mine as she clung to me.

When I pulled away, she was panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I pushed her legs apart with mine, aligning myself with her entrance. Her breath hitched as I pressed against her, teasing but not entering.

“Look at me,” I commanded, my voice low.

Her eyes snapped to mine, filled with a mix of fear and desire. Slowly, deliberately, I pushed into her, savoring the way her walls tightened around me. She gasped, her nails digging into my shoulders as she tried to steady herself.

“Is this what you want?” I growled, thrusting deeper.

“Yes,” she moaned, her head falling back against the wall. “God, yes.”

I grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at me again. “Say it.”

“I want you,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Only you.”

I fucked her harder then, each thrust a reminder, a reclamation. She wrapped her legs around me, pulling me closer, deeper. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, until she was crying out my name, her body shuddering as she came undone around me.

But I wasn’t done. Not yet.

I pulled out, ignoring her whimper of protest, and spun her around again, bending her over the edge of the bed. She looked back at me, her eyes dark with need, and I wasted no time plunging back into her. This time, I fucked her with everything I had, each movement driven by a primal urge to erase any trace of him.

“I’m yours,” she chanted, her voice breaking with every thrust. “Yours, yours, yours…”

And when I finally spilled myself inside her, marking her as mine, I knew she meant it.