The police department was your last shining ray of hope for finding work. Seemingly everything else was shut down, boarded up, and abandoned. On the rare occasions you could get your hands on a recent newspaper, there wasn’t a single job listing there for you. Everything else that could possibly have an opening was way out of your league — there’s no way you’d ever fit into an opening at a hospital.
But you knew a friend who had a friend, and that person knew a guy who could put in a good word for you with the MCPD, which at this point was the only thing you had left to try. You didn’t have any qualifications to speak of, but you figured they could get you in as a receptionist or something. It didn’t matter to you if the work turned out to be the most mind-numbing shit ever, you just needed something to buy food and keep the lights on at your house. And if you were surrounded by armed officers then it had to be safe, even at a time like this. You could work without worrying about running into whatever those things are that have everyone, yourself included, locking themselves away in their homes.
They responded almost immediately. You were hired. No interview, no application, just a call telling you that you could start work the next day if you wanted. And the resident lieutenant at the station was very eager to see you, or so you were told. Something about needing someone “urgently”.
You needed this job “urgently”, so that worked for you.
Today was your first day on the job. You’d meet your coworkers and your new boss, who seemed like a nice guy based on what you’ve heard about him. And while there wasn’t a lot to see, he offered to give you a short tour of the station just to help you see where everything was.
There were a lot of things you were expecting when you entered the station, but what you didn’t expect was to be greeted by a completely lifeless building. Not a sound except the humming of the lights on the ceiling, which were hardly doing much for the room anyway. It was dead quiet without so much as a single other officer in sight besides Lieutenant Thatcher Davis, the man who hired you. No other staff, either. Just an empty, desolate building with abysmal lighting.
“We’re pretty understaffed,” he explained, but that was one hell of an understatement. When he approached you, you felt a little intimidated by the way he towered over you. You knew you were short and that he couldn’t help being taller than you, but it still set you on edge for reasons you couldn’t explain. “Been trying to get someone in here to do something about those lights, but… well, you know how it is. Most rooms have enough lighting to work with, but we have lanterns for the ones that don’t.”
“Hey, that’s understandable, I completely get it,” you reassured him. You couldn’t fault him for the shabby conditions at this place; if services were shut down because everyone is too afraid to go outside, it’s not like he could do anything about it. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Well… That’s the thing. They’re all gone.”
“Gone?”
“Left. They all quit. Between the alternate sightings and the MCPD taking all the heat for everything that goes wrong, they had enough. Nobody wants to be in the line of fire of angry citizens anymore, and I don’t blame them. Even the secretaries ran for the hills. That’s why I need you here.”
Your hope that you’d be surrounded by well-armed officers was officially out the window. But it’d probably be fine as long as the doors were kept locked. Your eyes traveled to the mounds of unfiled documents that crowded the room.
“Yeah, it’s a mess,” he continued, “I’ve been doing everything on my own lately, paperwork included. It’s just too much for one man.”
You waved a hand in front of you. “Oh no, it’s fine, I get it. I won’t be able to complain about having nothing to do, that’s for sure.”
“Come on, I’ll show you the rest. It’s not much, but it’s the least I can do.”
Thatcher showed you around, taking you to a few different rooms. He was right, there really wasn’t much to see, except for an endless ocean of paperwork with no end in sight piling up in nearly every room. There were a few spaces that were free of the clutter, one of those being what looked like a small break room. It had a few small appliances like a microwave and a toaster (though you questioned if they still worked), along with a water cooler.
You noticed how Thatcher was borderline obsessive about closing the door to any room that had one. So you asked him about it and hoped he didn’t think you were weird for asking.
He shrugged. “I guess it’s just that with the way things are, it’s comforting knowing that if someone or something got into the station, it would have to open doors and make noise to move between rooms.”
He had a point there. You didn’t think of that. You’d be doing the same from now on, too.
The two of you soon approached another closed door.
“This is the last one,” he said, opening the door and gesturing for you to go inside. You were met with a mostly empty room. Weird, since this one had a desk, but lacked the piles of paperwork that littered every other room like it. The desk here was much smaller though, jammed back into the farthest, darkest corner of the room, and not at all the place where you’d expect a secretary to be. The room itself had lights that were barely working, worse than some of the other rooms; they were dim and hanging on by whatever tiny shred of functional wiring was still left in there.
As you inspected the room, you’d forgotten for just a moment that Thatcher was still with you, but didn’t explain what this room was for like he’d done for the others. When you realized it, you heard the sound of the door shutting behind you and the lock clicking into place. You turned around and there he was, standing idly just behind you with an expression you weren’t sure how to read. Whatever it is, it was throwing up every red flag.
“Um, sir?”
“Sorry for what I’m about to do.”
You watched him shuck off his jacket and walk closer toward you. To be honest, you’ve seen enough weird shit to have an idea of where this was going, but you made no move to stop it. Not like you could, or if it would matter in the first place. Or maybe you were completely misinterpreting the situation. What if you made yourself look like a weirdo in front of your boss?
“What do you mean?”
He held you by the shoulders, his fingers gripping you uncomfortably tight. “It’s just that you’re a friend of a friend, and I want to keep you here at the station where I know I can keep you safe. Also… I can’t lie, I’ve been craving physical contact with another person for a while now. I just hope you aren’t secretly one of those… things.”
So you weren’t misinterpreting this. This really was happening. A normal person would try to fight their way out of a situation like this, but you were learning that you must not be “normal”, then. Weeks of isolation in your house were fucking with your brain. Was there ever going to be a chance that this shitshow of a world would get better, and you’d come back to your senses?
Doubt it.
“Don’t apologize,” you said, resting your palms on the backs of his hands, helping him to relax enough to loosen his death grip on your shoulders. “To be honest, we’re the same. Holed up by myself in my house, no family, no friends, not knowing who I can trust… If you can promise that you also aren’t one of those things, then I don’t mind jumping straight to the fun part.”
Thatcher shoved you backwards until your back hit the edge of the desk. He pulled you into a ravenous kiss, and you gladly let him, reciprocating without hesitation. You would make do with almost anything right about now, but you had to admit that he wasn’t a bad catch.
“I’m glad,” he whispered, breathless. “I’ve been watching you for a while before everything went sideways, but I never got to have you to myself until now.” He dove back in for more, coming up every so often just long enough for air. “But now that you’re here, I don’t need anyone else. Neither do you. We have this whole station all to ourselves, and I can keep you safe here.”
You raised a finger to his mouth to silence him. “And what would you have done if I said no?”
His expression turned dark, and he leaned back in. Not to kiss you this time, but instead to stare dead ahead into your eyes. “I don’t think you have that luxury. I’m your boss, and this is your only hope of having a job in this shitsack world we live in now.”
He had a point there. Good thing you were on board with this, or this might have gotten ugly for you. It should have been disturbing to you that he would be so eager to take you against your will, but knowing he could do anything he wanted to you and get away with it was a turn-on.
You really have been locked inside for too long.
Oh well.
His expression softened again. The way he could switch was something else. It was dangerous, and you liked that. “So don’t go. Stay here, with me. Or do I need to make that an official order from your superior?”
You grinned. “Well, if it’s an order…”
Your miniskirt rode up your legs as you hopped up to sit at the edge of the desk, revealing more of your thighs. His eyes darted up and down your legs, and he started unzipping himself in a hurry. Just to make yourself more inviting you lifted the edge of your skirt up just enough to reveal your laced panties.
Thatcher’s eyes were hungry, drinking in the sight of you. Soon he was positioned between your thighs, and you let him hoist your legs over his shoulders as you leaned back on your elbows. The hard wood of the desk wasn’t very forgiving, but that wouldn’t bother you in a few minutes. You’re about to be a little too preoccupied to care.
He lined up his exposed cock with you, pushing your panties to the side and out of the way just enough to fit himself inside. He couldn’t wait the extra five seconds it would have taken for you to slide your panties off…
Neither could you.
Nice to know you were both on the same page.
You were already wet enough to take him without much resistance. Both of you let out a myriad of moans and hisses between gritted teeth as he disappeared, inch by inch, into your tight heat. The fingers that were digging into your shoulders trailed down your body until they settled comfortably at your hips. This wasn’t your first rodeo, but he made you feel fucking incredible, and he wasn’t even moving yet.
“You really are as perfect as I thought you’d be,” he breathed out, his voice low as if he was worried that someone might hear him. “I’ll make it worth it, I promise.”
It was a relief that the feeling was mutual; you’d die if this stopped now.
The view could be so much better for him. You pulled your shirt over your head, leaving your upper body bare for him, save for your bra. You considered giving him a show by taking that off too, but the way he forced his hands underneath the cups and groped at your breasts was so much hotter. And it just matched so well with how his cock was slotted against the lining of your panties.
He was gentle with his hands, massaging your tits and stroking your body in ways and places that made your skin feel like it might catch fire at every touch. But he was much rougher with your pussy in contrast, and once again you were grateful that you were both experienced and a willing participant. His thrusts were rough, brutal, and fast, already setting a punishing pace. Your hands clutched at the edges of the desk, hard enough that your knuckles turned a bright white.
Your head rocked back as you moaned openly into the dank, musty air. The back of your head met the wall behind you, and you let it rest there while you closed your eyes and let him do whatever he wanted to you. As fast as he was moving, you could still feel every centimeter of his shaft and every raised vein on it rubbing against your sweet spots. Aggressive kisses found their way to your chest, slowly traveling up until they reached your neck, just below your jawline. The smell of his cologne was almost overwhelming, but it didn’t detract from how good he was treating you. If he could do this to you every day, you’d probably learn to love it.
His abdomen was rubbing just slightly against your clit as he pounded into you, and it was driving you crazy. It was just enough to make you thirst for more, but not enough to be enough. You manage to loosen your grasp on the desk and reach down to rub yourself. Your eyes shot open when you felt Thatcher grab your wrist, almost painfully tight, never stopping the movement of his hips.
“Tell me what you need.”
His words came out like a threat.
You swallowed hard. You loved the danger of it, not knowing what he would do to you if you defied him. But at this point you just wanted to get off, and he was willing to serve, if you gave him what he wanted in return.
“Touch me there. I need you to touch me there.”
His eyes softened again. He let go of your wrist, leaving a bright red impression on your skin in its wake, and let it slink down under your skirt and to your clit. “Here?”
“Please.”
You could feel his angle change as he leaned his body back just enough to give himself room to touch you. But he never slowed down, not even a bit, as he started to rub his fingers against your clit. His fingers were big, much bigger than yours, and it felt different to be touched by hands that weren’t your own. The good kind of different. You love the feeling of having your bud played with, various whimpers leaving your throat as he rubbed it in different motions and rolled it between his fingers, watching your every reaction to see what you liked the best.
“Oh, fuck— ” you cried out, unable to stop yourself as your body tensed up at a particular roll of his thumb against your clit, repeated over and over out of time with the bucking of his hips, the rubbing motions taking a different tempo than the dragging of his cock against your insides.
His other hand squeezed your entire breast under his palm, the pads of his fingers leaving deep indents in the surrounding skin. His breathing was becoming more ragged. The stuttering of his hips was becoming faster and more desperate, as if he wasn’t destroying you enough already. Your back arched at the flurry of pleasure all hitting you at once, and at the realization that he was probably getting close to cumming. The realization that he was going to fill you up with it. God, you hoped he would.
“Getting so close… Do you want me to—”
“Please do.”
He stared at you with a look of confusion. You grabbed the collar of his shirt, tightly wrapping the fabric around both of your hands as you pulled him forward as much as you could. “Fucking do it, holy shit, please. I need it so bad, you have no idea.” The consequences of it didn’t weigh on your mind, you just wanted him to pump you full, and you wanted him to do it right fucking now.
You hoped that he would. You hoped he would say yes. Please, please, do it—
“Whatever my little lady wishes for.”
His eyes clenched shut as he shoved himself in all the way and let out a long, low growl of a groan. You could feel him spilling out inside you, and the feeling of his hot seed filling you to the brim sent you over the edge. You threw your head back against the wall again and wailed out in bliss, your legs shuddering against Thatcher’s body as you rode out your orgasm with his shirt balled up in your fists like it was your last lifeline.
Wordlessly, he pulled out of you and started putting you back together before you had a chance to come back down to Earth, starting with your shirt. Then he did the same for himself, stuffing his dick back into his pants, fixing the wrinkles in his clothes until he looked as though nothing had happened here. You, on the other hand, were left to leak cum out onto the desk, which would definitely never come out of the old wood that had long since lost its finish. Oh well, not your problem. You pulled your panties and skirt back into place and slid off the desk, taking a second to regain your balance. The thorough fucking left your legs feeling weak.
He opened the door and gestured for you to follow him. He took you back into one of the main rooms, one filled with some of the many daunting piles of paperwork. Rather than follow you inside, he lingered at the door with his hand on the knob.
“Stay here and be a good girl for me. Naturally, you’ll be paid hourly for your time.” He turned to leave, slowly closing the door behind him and winking at you as he made his way out. “Try not to miss me while I’m gone.”
You stood there, staring blankly at the closed door. You would miss him, or at least his body, but he would be back for you. Or at least you hoped so. You weren’t left wanting for work to do in the meantime though, there were literal mountains of it surrounding you on all sides. Best to get work. Maybe he’d go another round with you if you did your job well enough.
Before sitting down at the new, not-cum-stained desk, something compelled you to check the door.
Locked from the outside.
For your own good.