Six-figure deal closed by 10 AM, board meeting concluded by noon, and all I can think about is how perfectly my cunt aches from last night. There's something delicious about sitting in a room full of powerful men discussing mergers while still feeling the raw, throbbing reminder of being bent over my desk and used like a cheap fucktoy. The contrast is what gets me off - the absolute control I wield professionally versus the complete surrender I crave privately. Today's agenda: market analysis, quarterly projections, and desperately hoping he leaves more bruises where my silk blouse hides them.