"So, you want to work for me here in Moscow," Viktor Borzov said as he smoothly thrust in and out of Sara's cunt. "Tell me something about yourself."

"What, now, sir?" she gasped, her breasts thrusting upwards as she arched back to get the full depth of his cock inside her.

"I have a very particular interviewing style. Also, I am a busy man and like to multi-task."

They call Viktor Borzov an oligarch... incredibly powerful and wealthy as fuck. At that moment he was ardently shagging the aspiring young job applicant on his desk amidst a litter of documents and folders. To be fair, Sara Smithson entered fully into the spirit of the occasion, even if it had taken her be surprise. One minute she was being interviewed for the role of Borzov's Personal Aide, and the next he was cutting away her clothes and caning her arse before spreading her legs wide open across his desktop. Her crisp white shirt and new blue business suit, bought specially for the interview, lay ruined on the floor, as did her underwear. Now, stripped to just her stockings and high-heels, Sara was eagerly wrapping her legs around Borzov's back and hooking her ankles together for greater purchase as he hammered his cock into her hungry pussy. The cheeks of her arse were red but the pain of the cane had subsided to an agreeably glowing ache.

Borzov placed his hands under her sore, cherry-red arse and pulled her onto his cock. "Tell me!"

She gave a small moan, writhing and grinding her hips. "Okay, my name is Sara Smithson, and I'm from Ohio, USA." She paused and then let out a shriek, "O M G!"

"OMG?"

"It's an acronym, like USA," she panted, her fingernails scrabbling at the jacket on his back.

It had all happened so quickly for Sara. Straight out of university, she had travelled to Moscow from America with an introduction from her Russian language professor. She eagerly attended Borzov's penthouse office, bright-eyed and suitably dressed in a sharp new business suit. It had seemed just like any other job interview as she sat primly on the other side of the desk to the suave, Russian businessman... until she had reached over to hand him the letter of introduction. That was when he somehow managed to dislodge a pile of papers from the edge of his desk and scattered them onto the floor. Sara immediately dropped to all fours, gathering up the papers. Then she was aware that Viktor had moved from his seat to stand directly in front of her. She glanced up. They called him Borzov the Boss. She could see why.

"Are you usually so clumsy, Sara?"

"No, sir."

She was convinced that it hadn't been her fault but she remained crouched on her knees. When he didn't move to take the tidied sheaf of papers from her, she reached up to place it on the desk.

"Professor Zeldov is a very strict tutor, I believe."

Sara blushed, recalling the spankings Zeldov had frequently laid across her bared bottom. She had eagerly anticipated the professor's tutorials that usually left her arse red and her cunt sodden. "Yes, the Professor Zeldov is very strict," she said.

"And you enjoyed that?"

"I- I respond to a firm hand, sir."

"Let me see if you are as cooperative as he claims."

Viktor reached for a stiletto knife from the desk-tidy. It quickly became apparent that this was no ordinary blunt-edged letter opener, for the razor-sharp blade easily slit though her business jacket and blouse, slicing the fabric from the nape of her neck to the small of her back. She remained crouched on all fours, not daring to breathe as he cut her bra straps, and she exhaled in a low hiss when her breasts hung free. Familiar spirals of warmth began to rise in her belly. The Professor had assured Sara that the Boss would be an eminently suitable employer, but this was beyond her wildest dreams. She thought Borzov might have heard her heart pounding when he leaned over to slice the blade through the waistband of her skirt and slit down the back of the garment, completely renting it asunder. He cut through her panties too, and then set the blade aside and tore the rags from her. When he stood upright, Sara remained kneeling in the litter of her ruined clothes, naked except for her high-healed shoes and black hold-up stockings. She stayed on hands and knees, her breasts pendent beneath her.

"I understand you are not a virgin."

"No, sir," she said, looking up. There was no point in lying. Sara's sharp mind told her that Zeldov had made advance arrangements before sending her to Borzov. He would have told Borzov of her submissive wantonness. The professor had always said that, despite her impressive university degree and post graduate diplomas, she needed to serve a strong master. He had judged her well. At that moment, the warm and swirling tide of her sex juices confirmed as much. Borzov nudged her with his polished Gucci shoe and gestured for her to stand.

Sara stood upright, meekly compliant, even leaning into him when he reached to cup one of her shapely breasts. "You American Ivy League sluts are all the same... no better than whores. You have sucked cocks?"

She blinked at the crudity but nodded. "Yes, sir."

He hefted her breast in the palm of his hand, the pad of his thumb teasing her fiercely erect nipple. "You take it up the ass?"

"Sometimes."

"Bend over the desk."

She obeyed without a word. He pulled her back towards him slightly, his hands grasping her hips, and Sara knew that the moist peach of her sex was vulnerably displayed. The first stripe of his cane took her by surprise and she squealed and squirmed, but she held her position nevertheless. The second blow made her screech too, but then she settled back and her arse took one stripe after the other, with only sharp accompanying yelps. Professor Zeldov had always said how well she took a beating.

Laying the cane aside, Borzov ordered: "Get on the desk, lie back and spread your legs."

Now, ten minutes later, Viktor Borzov was subjecting Sara Smithson to a sound fucking and she was thoroughly enjoying it. OMG. LOL. Who would have thought it?

"Continue!" the Boss grunted, his hips hammering back and forth. "Tell me something about yourself."

Sara struggled for breath and concentration. "I- I am 23 years old and recently graduated from Cornell University with an excellent degree in the Russian language. I also have qualifications in business studies." She paused to gasp as he used his palms to prize the sore cheeks of her arse apart, the forefinger of each hand pulling at her anus. "Oh God, I thinking I'm going to cum!"

"If you want the job, you won't orgasm until I give you permission," he said, pushing the tips of both fingers into her anus.