Editor's Note: this fictional work contains raceplay fetish content.
Part 1.
Friday. 4:37 p.m. The weekend was less than half an hour away from starting. Although that put a boyish smile on Vincent's face as he looked out the window from his office on the second floor, the workday still could not end fast enough. In fact, for him, the entire week felt like an eternity. Despite daydreaming essentially every waking moment, he slogged through each day. Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. And, finally, Friday.
An exaggerated stern knock landed on the fixed window of his office door and interrupted the river of excitement coursing through his body. Immediately, reflexes kicked in and the chair spun around to allow him to assume the typical pretending-to-work position that so many office employees have built into their repertoire. That did not last though. As quickly as it emerged, the make-believe seriousness in his face and posture washed away. It was not the team manager. Instead, peeking through the window was Frank (his best friend at work).
The door swung open before Vincent even had a chance to invite Frank in.
Vincent's overly enthusiastic friend slapped the top of the desk and plopped onto one of the seats opposite of him, then fired off the burning question. "What's it going to be? What kind of bitch are you going to get? Chinese? Korean? Vietnamese? What's it going to be?"
Frank has been hitting Vincent with this since learning that Kate (Vincent's wife) gave Vincent permission to have a bitch as a pet.
