Bodyjack Office Lady Shindou Yukika Chapter6 (Patreon)

"Then… I'll sit here."

Shindou Yukika's voice cuts softly through the silence of the office. She slowly lowers herself onto the wide conference table, the hem of her black pencil skirt riding up just enough to reveal the sheer nylon of her stockings. Her movements are fluid, deliberate—like the beginning of some sacred ritual.

"Senpai… is this okay?"

Her cheeks flush as she deliberately parts her knees, then closes them again. The faint sound of the nylon straining fills the tense air. The fluorescent lights cast a clinical glow over her voluptuous figure—the silver hair cascading to her waist, the cinched curve of her hips, the swell of her chest that strains against her suit. The same woman whispered about as "that untouchable Yukika-chan" is now right in front of me, doing this.

"Nngh… this is kind of embarrassing…"

Even as she says it, her fingers hook under the skirt’s hem, hiking it up further. The fabric slides with a soft shhhk, rising higher—much higher—until it’s bunched around her upper thighs. The lace of her panties presses visibly against the black stockings, the outline unmistakable.

"Aha… Senpai, you're making such a serious face…"

She wets her lips with her tongue, eyes locked onto mine, relishing how intently I’m staring at the exposed apex of her thighs.

"Can I… look more?"

My voice cracks. She giggles, lifting her hips slightly.

"Go ahead… It's a special service, just for you."

With that, she reveals everything—the skirt pushed up to her waist, the plush curve of her lips clearly visible through the dampened lace. The fabric clings, already glistening faintly.

"Nngh… I never thought I'd do something like this…"

She murmurs it like self-mockery, yet her fingers tug the lace aside, baring herself further. Her expression wavers between shame and pleasure, caught in the throes of something she can’t resist.

In the office window, her reflection is crystal clear—an immaculate office lady, legs spread on the conference table, skirt hiked up for one man’s eyes only.

The sight is unreal.

And unbearably erotic.

(…I wonder why I ended up like this…)

Shindou Yukika lets out a soft, self-deprecating laugh as she sits on the desk, her fingers tracing the edge of her skirt. The fluorescent lights of the office cast a soft glow on her slender waist—a waist that, until that night of possession, had never been exposed like this. Before, she was just a diligent, reserved new employee, someone who poured all her energy into her work.

Now, here she is—spread out on the conference table, lifting her skirt, exposing the sheer fabric of her panties through her stockings.

Willingly.

(That night… the way you felt inside me, the way you used me…)

Just the memory makes her thighs clench, heat pooling between them. That intense pleasure, the way it burned through her, the way it changed her—it wasn’t forced. It wasn’t brainwashing. It was her—her own hidden feelings for her senpai—amplified, twisted, awakened by that night.

"…Senpai."

Her fingers suddenly close around his wrist. They’re warm, trembling slightly.

"Just watching… isn’t enough for you, is it?"

Her magenta eyes, glistening, look up at him—hesitant, yet certain. Like a bird about to leap off a cliff, knowing it’s already fallen.

"I… I never would’ve been able to do this before."

Her grip tightens. He can feel her pulse through her fingertips.

"But now… I want you to see everything. I want you to touch me… I can’t help it."

His chest tightens.

This is the change.

The awakening.

Her soul, his now.

And she’s happy about it.

"Nngh… yes…"

Shinodou Yukika's fingers lift the hem of her skirt even higher. The black pencil skirt slides up with a soft rustle, exposing the very top of her thighs. The lace of her panties presses against the sheer fabric of her stockings, the center already damp with a faint, telltale wetness.

"Senpai… touch me."

Her voice trembles, yet it’s filled with certainty. My hand moves closer to her, drawn in by the sight—

(This is… the feeling of touching a woman with my own hands…?)

The moment my fingertips brush against her panties through the stockings, a jolt of electricity runs down my spine. I’ve possessed women before, taken control of their bodies, but this—this is the first time I’ve ever touched a woman with my own body. The sensation, the warmth, the reality of it—it’s all so new, so—

"Ah… ♡"

Her soft sigh echoes in the office. My fingers trace the shape of her lips through the lace, the heat and softness of her pressing back. The thin fabric of her stockings does little to hide the slickness beneath, the dampness seeping through.

"Nngh… Senpai, your hands are shaking," she teases, giggling as she presses her hips forward, forcing my fingers to sink deeper into the fabric. I suck in a breath, memorizing the sensation.

(This is… a woman’s body… for real…)

This is nothing like possession. The smooth glide of the stockings, the rough lace beneath, the plush heat of her—it’s all real, all physical, all mine to touch.

"Nngh… you can… be rougher, if you want…?"

At her invitation, my fingers press harder, the fabric digging into her folds, the shape of her becoming clearer. My palm cups her fully, my fingers pressing into the softness, the heat.

(Ah… this is it… the feeling of touching a woman with my own hands…)

This is something I could never experience through possession. The ability to feel her warmth, her softness, the way she clenches around my fingers—this is the true essence of TSF.

"Haa… Senpai's hands are so warm… ♡"

Her sweet voice fans the flames of my arousal. The sight of her legs spread on the office desk, her skirt hiked up, her most private place offered to my touch—it’s all too erotic.

"Mmnh…! Ah, S-Senpai… right there, more… ♡"

Shindou Yukika's voice shatters the office silence. My hand slips under her suit jacket, cupping her breast—so full, so soft, spilling between my fingers. The warmth of her skin through the bra, the stiff little peak at the center—

"Ahha… do my breasts feel good, Senpai…?"

She looks up at me through her lashes, even as her own fingers sneak between her thighs. The hem of her skirt is still hiked up, the black nylon of her stockings stretched taut—her touch working slow circles over her damp panties.

"My pussy… it's so happy being touched by you… Nnghh ♡"

Her hips jerk as my grip tightens, kneading her through the fabric. With every squeeze, her fingers speed up between her legs—as if connected, as if synced.

"Ahh…! S-Senpai's hands are so big… wrapping all the way around me… Hahh ♡"

Even through her blouse, her hardened nipple is obvious—a tight bud begging for attention. When I pinch it between my fingers, rolling it roughly—

"Hyaahn!? No, that's— t-too much, I can't—♡♡"

She arches off the chair with a gasp, her thighs clamping around her busy hand. The sheer stockings crumple, the sound lewd against the quiet of the office. Eyes shut, biting her lip, her hair clinging to her flushed cheeks.

"Nngh… ah, ahh… when you touch me like this… my pussy gets even wetter… ♡"

Something primal snaps in me. My grip turns rough—molding her breasts through the blouse, twisting, squeezing. Each noise she makes sends heat straight to my core.

"Hahh… hahh… I-I was never… ngh! This sensitive before… ♡"

Glossy-eyed, her tongue slips past her lips—drowning in it.

Drowning in me.

And I'm nowhere near done.

(Let's see just how much more you can take—)

"Nngh…! W-Wait, Senpai… not so fast… go slower… ♡"

Shindou Yukika's voice quivers as my fingers slip deeper beneath her skirt, gripping her damp panties through the sheer fabric of her stockings. Her hips jerk, the office chair creaking beneath her.

"Ahh…! T-There… it's so… ah, haaah… ♡"

Her fingers clutch the edge of the desk, knuckles turning white. Every time my thumb rubs her clit through the fabric, her back arches, her body trembling. The lace of her panties digs into her delicate folds, the texture pressing into my palm.

"Haa… haa… your fingers are so hot… they're going so deep inside me… ah, ahh… ♡"

Her thighs quiver, her ankles crossing. The office lights cast a soft glow on her sweat-slicked neck, her usually neat hair now slightly disheveled, her makeup smudged—her usual prim and proper image, now completely ruined.

"Nngh… chuuu… I'm… I'm so wet… all because of you, Senpai… ♡"

With her own hands, she shifts her panties to the side, exposing her glistening folds through the sheer nylon. A thin, translucent slickness clings to the fabric, shimmering under the light.

"See… look… all of this… it's all for you, Senpai… ♡"

My fingers press into her, feeling the heat, the wetness. Her entrance swells beneath the fabric, the outline of her puffy lips visible through the stockings.

"Ahh!? W-Wait, if you press that hard… nghh…! I'm… I'm gonna… ♡♡"

Her body jerks violently, her back arching off the chair, her skirt riding up even higher. The fabric of her stockings at her crotch makes a wet, lewd sound as her arousal soaks through.

"Nnghh…! Aaahhh—! ♡♡♡"

A violent shiver wracks her body, her toes curling, her body convulsing. My fingers press deeper, feeling the way her walls clench around nothing, her arousal dripping down her thighs.

"…Did it feel good?"

My low murmur hangs in the air between us. Slowly, Shindou Yukika lifts her glistening magenta eyes to meet mine. Her cheeks remain flushed, her lips trembling faintly.

"Fufu… Senpai, you already know, don't you?"

Her fingertips brush against my chest—her hand still fever-hot, still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure.

"Because… you used me that night, didn't you? Used my body to feel good… over and over… Nngh… ♡"

Her whisper curls against my ear, honey-sweet and knowing.

"At first… it was like little waves—chu-pu, chu-pu—gentle, you know? But then you kept going… and it welled up from deep inside me, this hot rush—"

Her own hand drifts down between her thighs, fingertips tracing the damp stain on her stockings.

"Nngh… And in the end, it was like—byuuuru~—my mind went completely blank. Just like… just now… ♡"

Her words are clumsy, yet that only makes them more obscene. She’s describing something I shouldn’t understand—not as a man—but I do. Because I remember. I remember how it felt through her.

"So right now… I…"

Her hips jerk suddenly, her thighs trembling.

"Ah…! I-I think… it's coming again—♡"

She shuts her eyes, biting her lip. Even through the fabric of her stockings, I can see the way her walls flutter, desperate.

"Because of you, Senpai… I-I don’t even know how many times I’ve… Nnhaah~!"

I don’t wait for permission. My fingers slide back between her thighs, and she arches her hips to meet them—already waiting, already ruined.

(Let me remind you again— just how deep that pleasure goes.)

"Hey, try to resist a little, will you?"

I whisper the words, and Shindou Yukika's eyebrows twitch. Her magenta eyes glint, and the corner of her lips curl.

"Ahaha~… Senpai, you like this kind of play, don't you? ♡"

Her voice trembles with amusement, and she quickly shifts her expression. She widens her eyes, her lips quivering in a perfect act of feigned distress.

"N-No, stop it…! You can't do something like this…!"

Her performance is flawless—her tone is full of refusal, but her hips subtly press forward toward me. I wrap my arms around her from behind, my fingers slipping beneath her skirt.

"No…! I'm serious, stop it…! Nngh~♡"

Her "resistance" is nothing more than a show—her fingers barely chase mine as they stroke her panties through her stockings. When my cold fingertips brush against her burning heat, she gasps.

"Hyaaah!? A-Ah… don't touch me there… ♡"

Her voice sounds like she's genuinely resisting, but her hips press back against me, her body writhing slightly. In the reflection of the office window, her expression wavers between distress and pleasure.

"S-Someone might come…! Nngh… I-I'm serious… stop it… ♡"

Her hands grab my wrists, but there's no strength in them. Instead, her fingers guide my movements, tracing the lace of her panties.

"Ahh…! No, don't rub it like that… Nngh, haaah~♡"

Her body jerks at the sudden stimulation, her breath hitching. It's clear she's no longer acting—her body is reacting on instinct. Her breathing grows ragged, sweat glistening on her neck.

"Haaah… Haaah… Senpai, you're terrible… a pervert… ♡"

With those words, she guides my hand deeper between her thighs. At this point, no one would believe she's resisting.

In the middle of the office, we play out this twisted game—the thrill of the forbidden, the thrill of the pretend—and it only makes the pleasure even sweeter.

"Think you can make it more… realistic?"

I murmur, just as my fingers curl deeper beneath her skirt. The moment the words leave my lips, Shindou Yukika’s eyes gleam—bright, eager.

"Ahaha~… What scenario should we go for? ♡"

Even panting, she plays along effortlessly. I lean in, my breath hot against her ear.

"You… secretly deleted a critical client file. If you don’t want me to report you… you’ll have to cooperate."

Her entire body shudders—half from excitement, half from the way my thumb presses down through the soaked fabric.

"Nngh~…! That’s so… dirty… ♡"

Then—snap—her tone shifts. A false tremor enters her voice.

"P-Please… stop it—!! What are you doing…?!"

She clearly knows the game. Her back presses against my chest even as she "struggles," her hips tilting to grind into my palm.

I enjoy the groan that slips past her lips when I whisper coldly:

"I know everything. That client data didn’t ‘disappear’ on its own."

"Ehh…!? T-That’s—there’s no proof—! Nngh~♡"

Her fingers tighten around my wrist, not pulling away—guiding, dragging my touch firmer over the lace.

"Ahh!! D-Don’t… I told you not to touch—!"

…Yet she parts her thighs further, her breath hitching as I tease the damp fabric between them.

"The proof’s right here," I lie, reaching for my phone with my free hand.

"L-Liar…!! Delete that—mngh!? ♡"

A sharp gasp breaks her protest—my fingers finally rub hard against her clit through the nylon, and her body jolts for real this time.

"C-Creep…! P-Pervert… who does this—ahhn! ♡"

Her words say one thing, but the slick heat coating my fingers screams another. The way she grinds back, chasing the pleasure like she needs it—like she hates how much she craves it—

All while the reflection in the window shows her smirking.

Twisted? Absolutely.

But god—she’s perfect.

"Alright, I'll keep it a secret if you can hold out until the end. But if you cum—I'm telling everyone."

My whisper sends a shiver through Shindou Yukika’s body. Her magenta eyes glisten, her lips parting slightly.

"That's… that's not fair… I can't… I can't do this…!"

Despite her words, her hips press harder against my hand. My fingers press into her panties through her stockings, rubbing slow, deliberate circles as her breathing grows ragged.

"Ah…! No, if you do it that hard… if you press there… I'll—ngh! ♡"

10 seconds—I start counting in my head. Her thighs tremble, her toes curling. 9 seconds—Her panties make a wet, lewd sound as slickness soaks through the fabric. 8 seconds—

"Nngh…! A-ah, Senpai… stop… I'm serious… I can't… ♡"

7 seconds. Her hands grip the desk, knuckles white. 6 seconds. My fingers pinch her clit, rolling it between my fingertips. 5 seconds—

"Ahh!? No, not there… it's too much… I can't… I can't take it… ♡"

4 seconds. Her hips buck, her skirt riding up even higher. 3 seconds. Her swollen lips press against the fabric, the shape of her arousal unmistakable. 2 seconds—

"Nngh! I can't… I can't hold it anymore… I can't… ♕"

And then, the final second.

She gives up.

With a desperate whimper, she grinds down, forcing my fingers right where she needs them most.

"Aaaahhh—! Senpai, Senpai! I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm—I'm cumming! ♡♡♡"

Her body arches, her back curving as the orgasm crashes through her. Her legs tremble, her toes curling. A rush of warmth spills from her, soaking through her stockings, dripping onto the desk. Her walls clench around my fingers, pulsing in desperate, rhythmic waves.

"Nngh…! A-Ah… I-I'm… cumming again…♡♡"

A second wave crashes over her, bowing her spine as her body convulses wildly. Silver hair clings to her flushed skin, her blouse rumpled and damp with sweat. Her eyes have lost focus, her tongue lolling between parted lips—utterly ruined.

"Haaah… haaah… Senpai… beat me… ♡"

She collapses into my chest, her warmth pressed flush against me. Hot breath spills from her lips, words broken between shallow gasps.

This isn’t just defeat.

She’s drowning in it—

Loving it—

Burning in the pleasure I gave her.

"I'll… never… win against you, Senpai… Nngh… ♡"

A whisper—a confession—as she grinds her still-twitching heat against my thigh, trembling arms locking around me.

And on the office floor beneath us, the evidence of her surrender glistens—

Her defeat.

Her devotion.

Mine.

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