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So my boss finally noticed my Tramp Stamp. Took him long enough, I've had it for almost 2 months now. He caught a glimpse when I was stretching to reach a box on the top shelf of the supply closet; my polo shirt rode up just enough for him to see the ink right above my belt line. He stepped closer, his voice low as he asked what that was. When I turned and lifted my shirt to show him the full design, he let out this low whistle. He said it looked trashy... but in a good way. Said he should have known a someone like me would have one. He then immediately told me to follow him to his office. Once we got there. He locked the door... I had no idea what was about to happen, but I was super anxious. I asked him if he wanted a better look at my Tramp Stamp. He said "yes". My hands were a little shaky as I undid my belt and pushed my pants and briefs down to my knees, turning around to give him the full view. I hitched my shirt up under my arms, He leaned back against his desk, looking me over. "You know, I could fire you for that," he said, his tone casual but his eyes intense. "An unprofessional tattoo like that... it's a violation of the employee appearance policy." My heart started pounding. "Please, sir, don't." "I won't," he said slowly. "But we need to come to an understanding about your... little secret." He gestured for me to come closer. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to turn around, bend over my desk. And you're going to let me do whatever I want back there." What choice did I have? I guess I had to let my boss fuck me if I wanted to keep my job. He regularly calls me over to his house for booty calls. It's a standing arrangement now; It's never about work, it's always because he wants to fuck. And I don't get paid for it either...