Chapter 1 Shipwrecked

Reader Advisory: Prepare for Descent into Delicious Depravity

This story plunges into the depths of desire, exploring the raw, unfiltered edges of lust and obsession. Within these pages, fantasies ignite, boundaries blur, and inhibitions shatter. Explicit encounters and provocative language paint a vivid tableau of erotic exploration. If such indulgences offend your sensibilities, gentle reader, consider this your invitation to discreetly depart. But if you crave a taste of the forbidden, a glimpse into the heart of unrestrained passion, then prepare yourself for a descent into delicious depravity. Proceed with caution… and perhaps a lock on your door.

My name was Michael Smith. After college, I landed a job at the same company as my girlfriend. That's where I met my boss, Isabella Baker. She made quite the impression. Isabella was notorious for her fiery temper, basically the office dragon lady. But she was also known for her killer body, a fact that was hard to ignore.

One day, I stumbled upon her in the office, pleasuring herself with a dildo. Legs spread wide, she was completely lost in the moment. Her hot body had me throbbing, and I couldn't help but get a rock-hard erection. I even snapped some photos, figuring I could use them to blackmail her into becoming my personal sex toy. But then, a company team-building event threw a wrench in my plans.

It was during that trip that I really got to know her, both physically and emotionally.

"Isabella? Fancy seeing you here," I said, surprised, as I boarded the plane and saw her in the seat next to mine.

Isabella, a department manager, wasn't even thirty yet, but she had the kind of body that could stop traffic. She exuded a mature, sultry vibe. She wore a crisp white blouse and a tight black miniskirt, flesh-toned stockings clinging to her long legs.

Her breasts strained against the fabric of her blouse, revealing a deep, inviting cleavage. A sapphire necklace nestled between them, drawing my gaze like a moth to a flame.

My pulse quickened the moment I saw her. Her light blue eyes, like those of a mythical succubus, held a playful challenge.

Her intoxicating perfume filled the air, making my head spin.

As I sat down, the scent intensified. The gentle rise and fall of her breasts with each breath was almost too much to bear. My cock throbbed against my zipper.

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself, and subtly adjusted my shirt to conceal my erection.

But her breasts, full and white, were mesmerizing. I couldn't stop picturing her cupping them in her hands, kneeling before me, taking me deep into her mouth. The fantasy played on repeat in my mind.

But it was just that – a fantasy.

Isabella seemed to notice my distraction. Her lips curled slightly, as if muttering a curse, a flicker of annoyance crossing her beautiful face.

When her blue eyes met mine, they were filled with icy disapproval.

Her stern gaze made me flush. Just my luck.

Isabella was a force of nature at the company, with the looks and the body to match. But she had a demanding personality and an air of superiority.

"Michael, if I'm not mistaken, you still haven't completed that sales report I assigned you. With your current performance, you have the nerve to show up at the company retreat? Have you no shame? You have one week after this trip. If that report isn't on my desk, you're fired."

Isabella lifted her chin, her arrogant gaze burning into me. Anger surged through me, and for a fleeting moment, I wanted to shove her back against the seat and take her right there.

The missed sales quota wasn't entirely my fault; external factors had played a role. Isabella knew that, but she enjoyed making my life difficult.

I figured my obvious hard-on must have struck a nerve. As the arrogant boss, she couldn't stand the idea of feeling even a flicker of attraction towards me, her subordinate. She needed to be taken down a peg or two.

I let my gaze linger on her ample cleavage for a beat, then adjusted my seat and closed my eyes.

Several colleagues were nearby, but no one dared to challenge Isabella's condescending tone.

Some averted their gaze, pretending not to hear, while others shot me looks of pity or disdain.

I ignored them all, but the image of bending Isabella over and fucking her senseless flashed through my mind again.

These colleagues, like me, were just pawns in Isabella's game. Bullying the weak wasn't impressive; challenging the strong was what truly mattered.

Yes, I needed to push back. I'd been formulating a plan to deal with Isabella for a while. She was a high-ranking executive, a Harmony University alumna. Taking her on required careful planning and perfect timing.

Acting impulsively would only land me in hot water.

Isabella fumed at my indifference. Her full breasts rose and fell with each breath, nipples hardening with anger, begging to be touched.

Women like her were accustomed to admiration and fear, not blatant disregard. My behavior clearly rattled her.

But she didn't understand why, beneath the anger, a strange thrill coursed through her, a yearning to surrender to pleasure.

Much later, I discovered Isabella’s secret. Despite her outward confidence, she harbored a hidden desire – a taste for domination and humiliation. The right combination of insults and rough handling during sex could send her spiraling into ecstasy.

This particular predilection had a name: sadomasochism.

Isabella was a sadist.

The company had chartered a plane for a vacation in Aquilonia. My performance, despite the recent setback, had been good enough to earn me a spot on the trip.

The flight had been smooth for a while. Glancing out the window, I noticed dark, ominous clouds gathering in the sky.

My stomach clenched. Those clouds meant a storm, and storms were never a good sign at 30,000 feet.

But trouble, as they say, never comes alone. Just as I was fixating on the turbulent weather, thick smoke began to drift past the window.

Smoke at this altitude could only mean one thing – fire on board.

Panic surged through me. I tried to stand, but my seatbelt held me fast. The next moment, the plane lurched violently.

Screams erupted around me, and a soft, yielding body tumbled into my lap. In the chaos, I grabbed blindly, the sound of ripping fabric filling the air.

My hand closed around a soft, firm mound.

"Goddammit, Michael! What the hell are you doing?" Isabella's sharp voice cut through the pandemonium. I realized I was clutching her breast, her hardened nipple pressing into my palm.

I could still smell her intoxicating perfume, but the fear had extinguished my lust.

There was no time for explanations. A gaping hole had ripped open in the fuselage, and the wind tore at my face like a razor blade.

I watched in horror as a colleague was sucked screaming out of the plane.

"Goddamn woman! Goddamn company retreat! If I live through this, I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk," I roared into Isabella's ear, raw emotion pouring out of me.

The plane bucked again, the hole widening. We were going down, and our survival was a matter of pure chance.

I hoped I'd get lucky. With that thought, I tightened my grip on Isabella's breast, kneading it roughly.

Objects flew through the cabin. One hand on Isabella’s breast, the other clinging to my seat, I was lost in a whirlwind of terror and adrenaline, knowing my actions were futile.

With a final, piercing scream from Isabella, we plunged from the disintegrating plane into the unknown.