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(Her Secret Fantasy, continued by chain93729...)

A few days later….

“The video result….is disappointing, to say the least.” Gone is the cheeriness of the last call. Even through the voice modulation, an ice penetrates the room. Whoever it is, Rachel does not recognize them. You need no more convincing than her teared-up eyes.

“I do remember saying something about punishment severity, didn’t I, whore?” The voice is not asking for a reply. A sense of doom permeates your room as the voice carries on.

“A doctor’s report should be in your mailbox now. Take it and get the sick-leave procedure done before one p.m. Then go to Regin Palais on King’s street before seven. Your password for the bouncers is ‘Lush peonies’. I certainly hope both of you make it. Until next time.”

“Wait! For how long am I supposed leave work?”

“Two months. Your boss will only understand ‘terminal illness’ and ‘random life expectancy’. It is entirely reasonable for your cock to take you on an end-of-life trip, no?” With that, the ominous call finally ends.

Rachel struggles to hold back tears as she whispers, “help…”


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