Warning: Very taboo. Not for the faint of heart. May include BDSM, incest, and other taboo and forbidden elements. This is a vintage full length (100+ Pages), post-censorship erotic novel.*************Except for a pair of spider-web panties, a lacy garterbelt, flesh-colored hose and stilt heels, Erica Newhall was naked. A few feet away, nursing a badly aching erection, Sam Snow sat on the edge of his desk, eyeing her beautiful, big breasted body, lasciviously, and said, Get on the couch.Erica looked at Sam Snow, then at the lurid photograph atop the flat-top desk in his private office. With no argument she did as he told her. Snow was president of the Madison Avenue ad agency where she had been working for the past three months.When Erica first came into his office ten minutes earlier, and took one look at that photo, she was dead sure she would be fired. It showed her stark naked, down on her knees, with ten inches of stiff cock rammed down her throat. Everybody and his brother knew what a son-of-a-bitch Sam Snow was when it came to morals. He had set himself up as a regular tin god with a list of rules and regulations that his employees had to abide by as long as an elephant’s wang. They covered everything from dress to deportment, and anyone who disobeyed them could expect immediate dismissal.Erica tried to explain to him how the photograph came into existence, how it made its way to his desk. But he was not the least bit interested. He asked just one question: was it she in the picture?There was not the slightest possibility of her denying it.Snow took one more look at the photo, then raised his eyes to meet her gaze, sternly. He paused a moment on the way up to look at Erica’s bountiful bosom that stretched the tape at 38-inches and had gotten her into trouble ever since they first started to reach full bloom at the tender age of eighteen.I’m sure you understand, Miss Newhall, that we can’t have two sets of rules for our employees, especially our girls.He got up from behind the desk, pulled his jacket closed in front and started to walk toward the door. Which means I can’t possibly allow you to go on working here in the office.Erica walked a couple of steps behind him to the door, expecting him to open it and show her out. Instead, his back against the door, he turned to face her. He looked at her boobs. Her attempt at hiding their dimensions under a too-tight bra and a loose-fitting summer dress was like trying to squeeze a couple of St. Bernards into a dog-house built for twin Chihuahuas.Snow cleared his throat and said, Of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll have to be out of a job.Erica cocked her pretty, brown-thatched head to the side, curiously.You… er… you could act as my secretary, he went on.
