【My Story with Sister Zhao】(04) Author: 52676

Author: 52676
Word Count: 3142

(Thursday)

At noon on Monday, Sister Zhao asked me to go to her office. I wasn't directly under her jurisdiction, but because
we were in a collaborative department, I often went there to discuss things.

After greeting a few colleagues in Sister Zhao's department, I arrived at Sister Zhao's door and gently knocked. "Minister Zhao."

"Come in."

I opened the door, and Sister Zhao was sitting on the sofa, holding a red mug. The room was filled with
the aroma .

"Coming," Sister Zhao smiled at me and then gestured for me to close the door.

Sister Zhao's office was at the very back of her department, a large, independent room.
One side was a wall, and the other side was a floor-to-ceiling glass window with blinds on the inside. The blinds provided good soundproofing; while they didn't completely block out
all the light, people peering through the glass couldn't see inside. When the office building was renovated, the need
for rest space for middle-level managers was taken into consideration, so appropriate soundproofing was also implemented.

"Your speech this morning was quite good; Mr. Zhang was very satisfied," Sister Zhao deliberately emphasized the words "Mr. Zhang,"
staring at my face with amusement, trying to glean something from my expression.

"Thank you," I smiled, without revealing any awkwardness. After the two days of liberation over the weekend, I
had calmed down considerably and come to terms with a reality: although my world revolved entirely around Sister Zhao, she was different. She
needed different men to satisfy her different needs. In her eyes, Mr. Zhang was perhaps just a short-term sexual partner,
someone to comfort each other during business trips and satisfy momentary sexual desires. I, on the other hand, was her slave, a tool to worship her and satisfy deeper
desires . As for Sister Zhao's husband, I rarely heard her talk about him, and I didn't know
what role he played in her life.

"Sit," Sister Zhao said, seemingly uninterested, as she didn't detect any other emotion on my face.

I was about to sit down when she said, "Who told you to sit on the sofa?"

I was taken aback. Sister Zhao rolled her eyes at me and pointed to the floor in front of her. "Sit here."

"Isn't this inappropriate?" Considering that there were colleagues outside, I lowered my voice and asked her, adding
, "The door isn't locked." What if some clueless subordinate just pushed the door open and walked in...

? "No one under me dares to come in without knocking," Sister Zhao said confidently. Then she pointed to the floor again.

I sighed and had no choice but to sit at her feet. I watched as she skillfully knocked off her high heels and
placed them directly on my face. The silky smoothness of the nylon stockings, combined with the slight sweat and dampness of her feet, felt quite pleasant.

"Tonight, I'm going to do it with Mr. Zhang in the office," Sister Zhao said, wiggling her toes and rubbing
her face through the stockings. She spoke casually about something far from ordinary, and I could feel my breathing quicken.

"I need you to be there too," Sister Zhao continued, "of course, without Mr. Zhang knowing." I felt my
throat go dry.

"Master, what do you want me to do here?" I looked around the office; the only place I could hide was the wardrobe against the wall.

"I want you to watch over me, to add some spice to the experience," Sister Zhao said, then suddenly, a smile crept across her face. "And
some cleaning work, hehehe, are you willing?"

"This..." The "cleaning work" Sister Zhao was talking about probably wouldn't be that simple, but after
what happened last Friday, I felt I had overcome my mental barrier. "You said I should watch, where am I supposed to watch?"

Sister Zhao seemed to be in a good mood after I agreed. She moved her foot off my face and put it in my lap,
pointing behind her. "Look."

I turned around and saw, sure enough, the wardrobe. It was large, against the side wall, facing the left side of the desk.
It was a sliding wardrobe, with a full-length mirror on one of the doors for Sister Zhao to use when tidying her clothes. The two
doors were sealed tightly, with no gaps for peeking. "What if someone sees me if I open the door even slightly?"
I was a little worried.

"You're so dense! Haven't you ever been to a video conference before?" Sister Zhao rolled her eyes at me, her expression quite amusing. It seemed she
had planned the whole process, including the technical aspects; I felt like I'd rehearsed it
countless times in her imagination.

"I understand," I said, glancing at Sister Zhao's desk. Sure enough, there was a camera next to the monitor, in
an inconspicuous spot, facing the door and wardrobe. A clever woman, I thought to myself.

"Sister Zhao," I said, realizing my mistake as soon as the words left my mouth, and leaned closer. "You're quick-witted,"
Sister Zhao chuckled, in a good mood, and gently stroked my cheek. "Get to the point."

"I have a few details to add," I said, having unconsciously joined the team setting up the event,
completely forgetting the tragic role I was about to play.

Sister Zhao looked at me, nodded, and gestured for me to continue. "Master, the indicator light will light up when the camera is working. If
Mr. Zhang sees this, it'll be troublesome."

"Ah, how come I didn't think of that? I almost caused a disaster." Sister Zhao suddenly realized, and I couldn't help but feel a little smug. I continued,
"There's one more thing. If we move the door with the mirror to this side..." I went over and moved the door that was originally on the inside
to the side closer to the door. "Then there won't be any blind spots in the entire office." "Hmm, you can see us from the sofa too
." Sister Zhao gave me an approving look.

"I still need to adjust it a bit." I found myself actually enjoying it, and only Mr. Zhang
was kept in the dark, thinking it was just a normal affair.

I sealed the camera's indicator light with black tape and then used the computer's camera software to
adjust the camera based on the mirror's position.

"Xiao Liu, you're actually quite charming," Sister Zhao said suddenly, watching me busy myself. "Sigh,
it's a pity we're not meant to be."

"Master, I like things as they are."

"Hmm, I'm used to being waited on by you. I might really feel lost when you're not around anymore, haha." Sister Zhao
leaned back on the sofa and lit a cigarette.

Near the end of the afternoon, my phone rang. I took it out and saw it wasn't a call, but a QQ video
request from Sister Zhao. I accepted the request, and the video I had set up at noon appeared. In the video, Sister Zhao
walked out of her desk, stood in front of the mirror, pointed to her watch, made a seductive pose, and then
beckoned to the camera.

It seemed Sister Zhao was already impatient. Although I didn't want to admit it, Sister Zhao's flirtatiousness sometimes
exceeded my imagination, which was what captivated me.

The video call ended, and a message popped up: "[I want to save the video
from later ]" "

[Why save this? (surprised)]"

[I like to record all the exciting moments.]

I suddenly remembered that Sister Zhao did indeed like to take videos or photos with her phone while enjoying herself.

[Okay, I'll get it for you when I get to the office.] [Hehe, looking forward to it (smiley face)] After work, I
took a folder and went straight to Sister Zhao's office. Although some colleagues hadn't left yet, because Sister Zhao's office door
was open, Sister Zhao and I tacitly pretended to be talking about business, so we didn't attract much attention. Fifteen
minutes later, Xiao Zhang, the slowest person in the department, finally left the office.

"I'll teach him a lesson tomorrow," Sister Zhao said unhappily. "He's always so slow at doing things, and he can't even leave after work."

I closed the door and walked to the cabinet door. "Sister Zhao, shall I go in first?"

"Wait, set that up for me first," Sister Zhao called out to me, glancing at me sideways. "Why are you
in a hurry ?"

"I forgot, I forgot," I said, blushing slightly.

After setting up the recording software, I used QQ on Sister Zhao's computer to call my mobile phone. My own face appeared on the phone
screen , with Sister Zhao standing behind me, touching up her makeup.

"Don't panic, I called him and he just came down. Take your time," Sister Zhao said, walking behind me and
taking out a bottle of Chanel Coco from a drawer. She applied a little to her wrists and neck, then turned to me and winked
. "How is it?

" "So beautiful," I exclaimed sincerely.

A white fitted shirt, a gray pencil skirt, flesh-colored stockings, and black stilettos—these clothes
tightly hugged Sister Zhao, outlining her unique curves. Her deep chestnut curls were casually draped over her shoulders, her full
lips reflecting the color of lipstick, and there was a faint scent of perfume… But the thought that Sister Zhao dressed like this
to please another man made me feel jealous.

"Alright, it's about time, go in."

I opened the cupboard door and was surprised to find the paper bag Zhao Jie had brought from her last visit to the house in the corner, with her
tight leather jacket and boots lying quietly inside.

"Zhao Jie," I picked up the boots, "Can I smell this in here?"

"Yes, it's best to cover your mouth and not make a sound. Okay, hurry up and go in, I'm about to
make a call " Zhao Jie seemed impatient.

I closed the door from the inside. It was pitch black all around, except for the screen in front of me. On the screen, Zhao Jie picked up
the landline receiver. "Hello~ Mr. Zhang," her voice came from outside the cupboard.

A man's voice came from the other end of the line, but I couldn't hear it clearly.

"Yes, they're all gone. Come on over, yes, okay, see you later." Zhao Jie smiled, and I could see
she was looking forward to this private meeting. My heart ached again.

After hanging up, Zhao Jie smiled at the camera, which was me, and made a shushing gesture,
telling not to make a sound. In the darkness, I suddenly felt incredibly lonely. My only mistress was about to
have an affair with someone else right in front of me, as if my entire world was betraying me. I placed my phone in her
boot , buried my face inside, and watched her sit upright yet somewhat nervously,
inhaling the lingering scent of her boot. This indescribable feeling slowed the flow of my thoughts once more.

Footsteps sounded outside, stopping at the door, followed by a knock.

Sister Zhao rose from her swivel chair and hurried to the door…

“You’ve come.”

…

(To be continued)

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