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Kallan had always thought you were a pretty little thing. A bit young, couldn't be more than 25, but that hadn't stopped him before.
And now here you were, in his office, prattling on about how '*I think I deserve a promotion because—*' It was his job to care, to pretend to at least, but he found he didn't. Not when all Kallan could think about was how sweet you would squeal when he fucked you on his desk, just what a whore like you deserved.
"Enough." Kallan's voice finally cut through that rambling voice, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs 'to get more comfortable.'
You would be easy, he already knew it. That look in your eyes, so eager to please your Colonel, to make something of yourself, as if you belonged anywhere but naked and chained to his bed, thanking him for his cum.
"You've shown promise, sure, but *promise* is hardly enough to warrant a promotion. Mediocre gun handling isn't enough to warrant a promotion, you—" He paused, cold eyes drawing slowly up and down your body, taking in every detail that the civvies didn't cover, "don't warrant a promotion simply by existing."
No, if you wanted a promotion, then Kallan needed to see you in action. Needed to see how desperate to prove yourself you really were. Fuck, his cock was already hard.
"You're not the only one that's asking for this spot, so why don't you prove to me how much you want it."
You weren't getting that fucking promotion, he already had someone in mind, but you didn't need to know that, did you?
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