Fire Phoenix

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 14:16:28

Five years ago, he returned from studying abroad. Before his return, I had never met him, but every time I received a call from his uniquely deep and magnetic masculine voice, I felt a strange impulse. Coupled with the expectant expressions of his female colleagues throughout the company, it repeatedly fueled a desire to be violated.

Seven years ago, two weeks before I joined the company as a secretary, he went to the United States to study. For two years, colleagues spoke highly of him; almost no one disliked him. Because of his overseas studies, our general manager was temporarily replaced by Mr. Huang, and I later became his secretary.

A bunch of people were clamoring for the boss to let them pick him up at the airport. This popular bachelor would be my boss starting next week. I had never met him, yet I felt incredibly familiar with him.

A month before his return, the chairman contacted me, telling me he was coming back and that Vice President Huang was transferring to be the general manager of the Kaohsiung domestic department. He asked if I wanted to go to Kaohsiung with him or stay in Taipei. Because I was unfamiliar with Kaohsiung, I chose to stay in Taipei. And so, I naturally became the secretary to his international department general manager. The chairman then instructed me to find a high-end apartment building for him, rent it, and have it furnished before his return. So I proactively contacted him, asking about his desired living situation. A few hours after I found the apartment and faxed him the room layout, he sent back a complete set of furnishing plans in CAD—the speed, the detail, the completeness of the structure were unbelievable! This man was going to be my future boss.

I started handling the details of the furnishing, and his instruction to me was: "Just like you'll be living in it yourself." My colleagues joked, "You're preparing your wedding night!" or "How's the furnishing of your new house going?" I really felt like I was going to live there myself, going to the construction site every afternoon to check for any unfinished work. One thing I never understood was his insistence that his bed be made of solid wood, an extremely sturdy loft bed, a loft bed that wouldn't collapse even if ten people were to support it.

Finally, three days before his return home, everything was finished. After personally cleaning up the place, I lay exhausted but relieved on the bed—a sturdy, large, and comfortable bed—and unknowingly fell asleep.

Suddenly, he stood before me, staring at me with his deep eyes, as if trying to see through my inner desire to be raped. I removed all my restraints and knelt naked before him. I swallowed his entire penis whole, greedily devouring his body. He was mine; no one could take him from me. I sucked hard, while simultaneously caressing my own genitals. At the moment of his climax, I helplessly ejaculated as well.

After a shudder, I woke up. It was all a dream. I had a lewd dream on his new bed, and for the first time, I actually reached orgasm in my dream, wetting his bed. I quickly wiped away the wetness from my own fluids, my heart pounding.

After a final check, and arranging the phoenix arrangement I had made myself, I arrived at the welcome dinner the company had specially prepared for him, my heart pounding with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. I finally understood why so many people were captivated by him. Even though he had just endured a grueling 10-20 hour journey and jet lag, he showed absolutely no signs of fatigue. He was witty, charming, and his 180cm height and robust physique made him even more attractive than the man of my dreams.

The dinner ended, and the company driver took me back to our home—no, no, his place. It had been a month, and I had gotten used to this feeling of "it's like you'll be living here from now on."

The driver brought in his luggage and asked if I wanted him to wait for me to take me home. For some reason, I told him, "No need, I have some things to report to the general manager." He nodded to the driver and said, "You go back and rest first. I'll take Secretary Hong home myself later."

After I explained everything about the room's decor and furnishings to him, we went into his bedroom. He glanced at the pot of flowers I had deliberately arranged, then looked at me and said, "Did you arrange these yourself? Phoenix!" I nodded.

Suddenly, his gaze fell on the spot on the bed that I had wet a couple of days ago, and he exclaimed, "Eh?" My whole body began to tremble. Oh no, had I not wiped it clean enough?

Phoenix (Part Two)

He pointed to the spot on the bedsheet that was covered in my vaginal fluid from that day, and said with a surprised expression, "This is on the bedsheet???" I was speechless for a moment: "I...I..." The feeling of shame overwhelmed my entire body, and then suddenly I felt dizzy and fainted uncontrollably. I felt him nimbly catch me and then lift me up and put me on the bed.

In my unconscious state, I kept murmuring, "General Manager, I...I didn't mean to get it wet, I...I didn't mean to." In my daze, I heard him say, "It's alright, it's wet, it's wet. Just dry it off and rest. You must be exhausted."

I kept having dreams, kept struggling, saying "I didn't mean to" countless times, but subconsciously, I didn't want to wake up. Because after each struggle and muttering, I always felt a touch of care, a warm comfort that always appeared on my forehead or arm after my struggles and muttering—a pleasure I had never experienced before, a gentle and considerate feeling. With that warm feeling, my heart gradually seemed to calm down.

I don't know how long I was unconscious, but when I opened my eyes, I saw him sitting on a chair by the bed, holding a towel, gently wiping the sweat from my forehead. I tried to sit up, but my body was too weak to obey. He gestured for me to continue lying down.

"You must be exhausted these days. Lie down and rest for a bit, then I'll take you home."

"General Manager, I...I didn't mean to get it wet, I..."

He interrupted me before I could finish, saying, "What's the big deal if it's wet? Just change the pillow. I couldn't change it for you because you were asleep." He walked to the other side of the bed, picked up another pillow, and returned, gesturing for me to switch it: "A dry pillow will be more comfortable."

"But General Manager, the sheet..." Just as I was about to give up, he continued, "The pattern on this sheet is exactly what I wanted! You have a good eye; you found something exactly what I imagined. No wonder the chairman entrusted this task to you."

Good heavens! He was only surprised that I found the sheet, not that he discovered my discharge on his bed. The relief and excitement made me faint again. But this time, no more nightmares.

When I opened my eyes again, he wasn't by the bedside, and a feeling of loss washed over me. I walked out of the bedroom and heard him tidying up in the study. I slowly walked to the study door and saw him placing books one by one from his luggage onto the bookshelf. When he saw me, a concerned smile appeared on his face: "Are you feeling better? Should I take you home first, so your family won't worry?"

Just as I was about to say "Much better!", I suddenly changed my mind. I touched my head, showing a weak expression: "My head is still dizzy." Good heavens!! I lied! What am I doing? I don't want to leave! I'm already captivated by his charm. No man has ever made me lie for him before, but his gentleness, his grace, so many other things about him have me enamored with—a man I've only just met, yet feels strangely familiar with.

"If you don't want to stay in bed too long, rest in the living room for a bit. I'll be done tidying up soon and make some coffee."

Only then did I realize he had almost finished packing his luggage and arranging everything. A coffee maker was already set up, the time displayed was 1:38 AM—it was already past midnight, and I had absolutely no intention of going home. I live in a rented apartment, a one-bedroom, one-living room unit. Although it's not big, I've always thought it was extremely comfortable over the years. At home, I'm used to shedding all constraints, a feeling of freedom and complete liberation. But today, I didn't want to go back there at all. Suddenly, I was terrified of being alone.

"Want some coffee?" he asked, coming out of the study after finishing his luggage. I nodded.

He ground the coffee beans and started brewing, instantly filling the room with its aroma. He poured the coffee, placed it on the tea table, and sat down opposite me.

"Should I call home to let them know I'm safe?" he asked.

"I work alone in Taipei; my family lives in Hualien."

"Hualien! What a nice place. I was in Shoufeng, Hualien, when I was in the military."

And so we began to chat about Hualien, and in an instant, the distance between us seemed to shrink considerably.

After finishing his coffee, he glanced at his watch. "Oh! It's 2:30. I should take you home now. I'm going back to my hometown in Taichung tomorrow morning; I haven't been back in two years." He got dressed, took the car keys the driver had left, seemingly oblivious to my reluctance to leave. As

the car pulled out of the underground parking garage, I pondered for a moment, then finally made up my mind: "Could I hitch a ride to Taichung tomorrow? A good friend of mine lives there, and I haven't seen her in ages. If possible, I'd like to hitch a ride to see her."

Although we agreed he would pick me up at nine, I was already waiting downstairs at 8:40; I couldn't control my excitement. At exactly nine, he appeared in his car. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"No problem, I just got down." My lies seemed to be coming more and more naturally.

"Have you contacted your friend?" he asked.

"I called earlier, but no one answered. They're probably still sleeping. People always wake up a little later on Sundays. I'll try again at ten."

I have no friends living in Taichung!

It was ten o'clock. He handed me his cell phone. Where should I dial? I'd just dial home. "Hello, is this Aunt Wang? This is Xiaowen." "Yes, is Xiaojuan there?" "Oh, she went to Kaohsiung!" "She won't be back until next Wednesday?" "It's alright, it's alright, goodbye Aunt Wang." I put the phone away, pretending to be annoyed: "She went to Kaohsiung and won't be back until next Wednesday."

And so, I went with him to his home and met his parents. They were extremely excited about his return, but what excited them most was that he brought his "girlfriend" home with him. Although he repeatedly explained that I was a colleague from his company, visiting a friend in Taichung and not home, the two kind and honest old people didn't care. They kept putting food on my plate during lunch and dinner, and during breaks, his mother kept holding my hand, telling me some funny stories about him. He didn't explain anymore, but he kept shaking his head helplessly.

After dinner, amidst his mother's repeated reminders to "come visit again, come back together!", we set off back to Taipei.

"I'm sorry, I made you feel awkward."

"Not at all, those two old folks are so kind."

Not long after returning home, the phone rang, but although I said "hello" a few times, no one answered. Probably a wrong number! I didn't think much of it. What an exciting day! I was so excited I couldn't fall asleep, and tomorrow was my first day at work—or rather, my first day at work with him. I had to find a way to tire myself out and fall asleep. Although I often do this, tonight felt different. In my mind, my fingers seemed to be his fingers, constantly plucking the strings of my private parts. My mouth moved with the rhythm of a five-stringed instrument, sometimes high-pitched, sometimes low. Just after a moment of intense pleasure, my tense body was released. An unprecedented pleasure, like waves, washed over me, and I drifted off to sleep.

A week passed quickly. His work ability was truly astonishing. In several meetings, while everyone else was still hesitant, he had already sorted out the details and quickly created effective and easy-to-implement rules. I understood once again why my colleagues liked him so much. He always simplified what was originally extremely tedious work, getting straight to the point and not dragging things out. He often told us that by being efficient, we could save more time to rest and arrange more leisure activities.

One weekend, he invited his colleagues from the office to his place for dinner. I finally understood why he was alone, yet had asked me to order such a large solid wood dining table. It turned out he liked to invite friends over for meals. His cooking skills were truly first-rate. I'm not blindly optimistic; everyone praised his cooking. His coffee was especially fragrant, and his tea was full of flavor. In both work and personal life, it was almost impossible to find a fault with him. No! That's not right! He has one flaw, his only flaw: aside from the relationships between colleagues, since returning from Taichung, he has never given me a chance to get close to him. Although he treats everyone equally, I always feel he should treat me a little differently.

As my colleagues gradually left, Xiao Chen asked if I wanted a ride home. I told him I had some things to report to the general manager and would leave later.

"Would you like something else to drink? How about a pot of Dong Ding Oolong?"

He asked as he brewed the tea, and we chatted. Suddenly, he asked, "Have you contacted Xiao Juan?"

"Xiao Juan? Who's Xiao Juan?" I asked, puzzled.

He took out his cell phone, pressed a few buttons, and held it to his ear. After a while, he said, "Hello, is this Aunt Wang? This is Xiaowen." "Yes, is Xiaojuan there?" "She went to Kaohsiung!" "She won't be back until next Wednesday?" "It's alright, goodbye Aunt Wang." He put the phone away and looked at me: "She went to Kaohsiung and won't be back until next Wednesday." "

You don't have a friend named Xiaojuan living in Taichung, do you? You dialed your own number, didn't you?"

I felt like I'd been electrocuted; the teacup in my hand trembled uncontrollably. I...I completely collapsed, and I fainted again.

When I woke up, I found myself tied to the dining table, my neck on the edge, my calves and thighs bound together with ropes, and simultaneously pulled apart and fixed to either side of the table, my private parts exposed.

"Why did you lie to me?" he asked sternly.

"I..." How could I answer him? "Please forgive me, General Manager. I'll accept any punishment if you forgive me!"

"You said it yourself, you can't blame me."

"I'll accept any punishment, as long as you forgive me."

He began to run his tongue around my breasts, occasionally sucking on my nipples, and I moaned with excitement.

He didn't tie my hands, but simply secured my waist to the dining table with a rope.

I finally understood why he wanted such a large and sturdy dining table.

With my free hand, I unbuckled his belt, pulled down his zipper, and gently stroked his erect penis, which was bulging high in his underwear. He moved in front of me, and I licked his urethra through his pants.

Then, with my hand, I grasped his penis through his pants, and, along with the pants, put it entirely in my mouth, stroking it repeatedly.

I was willing to accept any punishment; I even willingly punished myself. I went faster and faster, tighter and deeper into the hood, completely ignoring the pain from his pants rubbing against my lips, and I thrust with all my might.

Suddenly, a tremor emanated from his penis, a strange change occurred to his face, and an arousing sound came from his throat. I quickly pulled down his underwear, and a stream of hot semen sprayed onto my face.

I was startled awake by a warm sensation on my forehead. He was sitting in front of me, gently patting my forehead and face with a hot towel.

My God! I actually had such a dream in front of him.

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