Skimmed the Profits, Swallowed the Consequences

Steven had always thought of himself as smart—too smart to ever get caught. A hedge fund manager with a client list full of billionaires, he had access to more money than most people could even comprehend. A little skimming here and there? Nothing they’d ever miss. At first, it was just a few minor transactions, small enough to be brushed off as rounding errors. But greed had a way of creeping up on a man, and soon, the amounts weren’t so small anymore.

And then one of his clients noticed.

Steven had never once considered getting caught. But now, sitting across from Mr. Mitchell, he realized just how badly he had miscalculated. The man—a cold, powerful figure with an unsettling smirk—laid out his options plainly: spend the next few decades rotting in a prison cell, or work for him. As he said it, that smirk deepened, deliberate and knowing, like he was already picturing the outcome. A chill ran down Steven’s spine, but hesitation wasn’t an option. He wasn’t going to prison.

Now, months later, Sabrina stood by the car, her reflection in the glossy white paint revealing just how much had changed.

A surgically perfected face with high cheekbones, a smaller, delicate nose, and pouty lips painted in a glossy pink. Long, thick lashes framed heavily lined eyes, her makeup applied to perfection, just as it was expected to be every day. Blonde hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, pulled high into a ponytail and tied with a neat black bow—an accessory that, as humiliating as it was, had become a signature look.

Her body was equally manufactured. Her once-flat chest now strained against the barely-there straps of the black monokini, her enormous implants making every movement feel foreign, unnatural. Her waist was tight, cinched just enough to exaggerate the swell of her hips—hips that led down to long, smooth legs, ending in dangerously high black stilettos.

As she tapped her glossy nails against the hood of the car, a shudder ran through her at the sheer depth of her conditioning. Every movement, every reaction had been ingrained into her so thoroughly that resistance wasn’t just futile—it was unthinkable. For the briefest moment, she thought about how much easier it would have been to just go to prison.

But the thought quickly disappeared as Mr. Mitchell approached.

Her lips curled into a soft, practiced smile, her body shifting instinctively, angling just enough to make her curves more pronounced. With a teasing glint in her eyes, she tugged lightly at the thin straps of her outfit, feigning a small adjustment—just enough to draw his attention and remind him how little there was to adjust in the first place.

As he reached her, she looked up at him through thick lashes, her voice sweet and airy. “I’ve been waiting for you, Daddy,” she purred.

Rising onto her toes, the motion effortless despite the towering stilettos, she pressed her glossy lips softly to his. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, she turned and minced toward the passenger side, her hips swaying, the sharp click of her heels against the pavement ringing in her ears.

As they pulled onto the road, Sabrina allowed herself a small, fleeting hope that this would be just a normal drive. Maybe they’d simply enjoy the ride, maybe he’d let her sit there looking pretty, maybe—for once—he wouldn’t expect anything.

But the moment she glanced over, that hope disappeared. Mr. Mitchell’s slacks were pulled tight, struggling to contain the thick, unmistakable outline pressing against them. Her stomach sank.

Of course.

It was going to be one of those drives.

Without a word, she reached over, delicate fingers unfastening his pants with practiced ease. The moment his thick cock sprang free, her breath hitched, heat pooling between her thighs as a familiar hunger stirred inside her. Her body reacted before she could even think—her mouth watering, her tongue instinctively running along the inside of her cheek in anticipation.

Her head dipped between his thighs, her glossy lips parting as they wrapped around him, sealing into place with a soft, obedient hum. There was no hesitation, no need for instruction—her body already knew what to do.

She worked with practiced precision, her tongue gliding along his length, her lips tightening just right. The motion was second nature now, her pace steady and eager, every soft noise she made perfectly rehearsed. It wasn’t long before she felt him tense, his fingers threading through her blonde ponytail as he reached his peak.

Sabrina swallowed without thinking, her body responding exactly as it had been trained to. As he relaxed back into his seat, she delicately ran her tongue along him one final time, ensuring not a single drop was left behind.

Only then did she sit back up, licking her lips as she settled back into her seat. The warm sun kissed her skin, a gentle breeze teasing the ends of her ponytail.

She had once thought she could outmaneuver men like him. That she was the one in control.

But as she wiped a stray bit of cum from her chin with a delicate finger, all she could do was giggle softly to herself.

What a silly, silly thought.