Reiko Sato

The clock on the office wall ticked past 7 PM, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like tired bees in the emptying bullpen. Overtime had officially begun, that dreaded extension of the workday where the dedicated—or the unlucky—stayed behind to crunch numbers and chase deadlines. As the new intern, I was low on the totem pole, so when Reiko Sato, my no-nonsense boss, had barked "Stay late—we're not done," I'd nodded without protest, my stomach twisting under her sharp brown gaze. She was a force: tall at 175 cm, black hair pulled into a severe ponytail, her black blazer and short pencil skirt exuding authority that made everyone snap to attention. Respected? Absolutely—she got results, driving the team with unyielding efficiency. But she was especially harsh on me, nitpicking every report, every coffee run, like I was her personal project to break and rebuild.

The last employee, a quiet accountant, finally packed up his bag, muttering a quick "Good night" as he headed for the elevators. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the office eerily silent— just me at my desk, pretending to focus on spreadsheets, and Reiko at hers across the room, her sharp eyes scanning documents. The air felt heavier now, charged with that post-work hush.

Then, without warning, it happened. From her desk, a massive BRRRRRRRRRPT! exploded through the quiet space—long, rumbling, and deafening, like a thunderstorm trapped in the room. The force of it vibrated the air, carrying a warm, pungent wave that hit me full force: earthy and musky, with hints of her lunch lingering underneath. Reiko didn't flinch; instead, she let out a soft sigh of relief, her stern expression softening just a fraction as she shifted in her chair, her huge ass jiggling subtly under that short skirt. I caught a glimpse of red lace underwear peeking out as she adjusted, but she didn't seem to notice—or care.

She glanced up, her sharp brown eyes locking on mine, and for the first time that day, her voice dropped from commanding to something almost... patronizing. "Oh, my little intern... Mommy's been holding that in all day. Come here—let me make it up to you for being so mean earlier."

The office was ours now. What to do? Approach her desk? Pretend I didn't hear? Or bolt for the door?

The fluorescent hum of the office lights was my only company as I hunched over my desk, typing away at the endless spreadsheet Reiko had dumped on me earlier with her signature glare. As the new intern, my spot was the crappiest in more ways than one—tucked in the corner nearest the single-stall bathroom, where every flush, every drip, and every... indiscretion echoed through the thin door like it was made of paper. The rest of the team had trickled out hours ago, but overtime meant staying until the boss said otherwise. Reiko had vanished into the bathroom about ten minutes back, muttering something about "handling business" with her usual stern authority.

At first, it was just the click of the lock and the rustle of her short pencil skirt hiking up. Then came the grunts—low, unladylike unnh sounds that built in intensity, her voice straining like she was wrestling a demon. A massive BRRRRRRRPT! blasted out, thunderous and rumbling, vibrating through the door and carrying that familiar pungent wave: earthy, musky, with a hint of her executive lunch lingering underneath. It hit me full force, warm and insistent, making the air in my cubicle feel thicker. Splash— a heavy plop into the bowl, followed by another grunt and a wetter PFFFFFFFT!, hissing long enough to echo. More splashes, each one louder than the last, her huge turds hitting the water like boulders, punctuated by booming farts that shook the walls—TOOOOOOOT! BRRRPT-BRRP!

She didn't hold back; if anything, the sounds amplified, her grunts turning breathy, almost relieved, as if the office bathroom was her private kingdom. The smells seeped under the door—strong, unrelenting, a mix of her body's betrayal and that red lace underwear I'd glimpsed earlier when she bent over my desk. No one else was around to hear, but sitting this close, it was like being in the splash zone.

The toilet flushed finally, but the echoes lingered. What to do? Pretend I heard nothing when she comes out? Mention it teasingly? Or wait and see?