The Disappearance Series, Part I - The Disappearance

Jack Dillon's patience snaps like a taut wire. He's done with Caldwell's bluster, that iron-fisted reign over the office. In a surge of raw defiance, Jack squares up, eyes locked on the big boss, and issues the challenge—raw, unyielding. Caldwell, caught off guard, crumbles. His shoulders slump; he yields, a king dethroned in an instant, now trailing Jack like a shadow, hanging on every barked order. Jack doesn't hold back. He grabs Caldwell by the collar, manhandles him across the room with brute force, slamming him against the desk. The leather baton—slick, unyielding—comes out next. Jack wields it like an extension of his fury, cracking it against Caldwell's thighs, his ass, marking skin with sharp, stinging welts that bloom red. Caldwell gasps, twists, but submits deeper with each blow, his body betraying him in waves of helpless surrender. Finally, broken and panting, Caldwell whispers it: defeat. Total, utter capitulation. Jack wastes no time. He bends the man over, spreads him wide, and drives in—hard, relentless thrusts claiming every inch. Caldwell moans, arches, takes the fucking like it's his salvation, the room thick with the scent of leather and sweat-soaked submission.