Woolwich Wonder
"Army veteran Nneka now runs security at Woolwich Arsenal. When she catches IT worker Damon sneaking in after hours, she decides to discipline him personally."
The alarm blared. Damon froze in the server room, his USB drive halfway to the slot. This was supposed to be quick—grab some files, be out before anyone noticed.
The door burst open. A flashlight blinded him.
"Hands where I can see them."
The voice was deep, authoritative, and distinctly feminine. As his eyes adjusted, Damon's heart stopped for entirely different reasons.
She was tall and built—army-bred muscle combined with natural Nigerian curves. Her security uniform looked like tactical wear, and the way she moved suggested she knew exactly how to use the baton on her belt.
"I can explain—"
"You can explain to the police. After I search you."
The search was thorough. Maybe too thorough. Her hands lingered in places that weren't strictly professional.
"Just grabbing some files," he said quickly. "Nothing classified. My own project backups."
"Without authorization. After hours." She circled him, predatory. "You know what we call that? Suspicious behavior."
"I'll take the official warning. Whatever you want."
"What I want?" She stopped in front of him, close enough that he could smell her—something floral over authority. "What I want is for men to stop thinking they can get away with things because they're clever."
"But you're lucky," she continued. "I'm bored. Night shift is dead quiet usually." Her hand found his chest. "And you're... interesting."
"Interesting?"
"Handsome. Fit." Her hand dropped lower. "Nervous. I like nervous."
"What happened to the police?"
"That depends entirely on how well you follow orders." She grabbed his belt. "Can you follow orders?"
Damon nodded.
"Good boy. On your knees."
She was demanding. Specific. She positioned his mouth exactly where she wanted it, her tactical pants discarded to reveal thick, powerful thighs.
"That's it... right there... don't stop..."
She gripped his head, controlling the pace, using him for her pleasure. When she came, she held him tight against her, her body shaking, her voice a low growl.
"Good. Now stand up."
She bent over the server rack—ironic, given where they'd started. Her arse was a marvel, round and full and begging to be grabbed.
"Show me why I shouldn't file a report."
He showed her. Thoroughly. The server room echoed with her approval.
"Yes! Harder! Like you mean it!"
For a man on trial, he performed exceptionally. She came twice more before finally allowing him release, and when they finished, they were both slick with sweat and breathing hard.
"So," she said, fixing her uniform, "are we going to have any more late-night visits?"
"Do you want them?"
"I might leave a door unlocked. Accidentally." She wrote something on a sticky note and pressed it to his chest. "My number. For emergencies."
"What kind of emergencies?"
"The kind where you need to be disciplined." She kissed him hard, then stepped back. "Now get out. And Damon?"
"Yes?"
"Next time you sneak in, make sure I'm on shift."
His Woolwich wonder had turned capture into surrender. And Damon had never been happier to be caught.