C1 Sinful Idea

Natalie’s POV

“Aaaaah…”

A long, loud yawn escaped my mouth as I scribbled my signature on the last page of the CEO’s schedule. Managing his bookings, appointments, and endless meetings was an absolute nightmare, especially when the whole workload was dumped entirely on me.

My tired eyes flicked to the wall clock hanging on the cold grey wall. In the dimly lit office, the hands glowed clearly: 10:05 PM. The entire company had emptied out hours ago, yet here I still was. It had always been like this. No one ever listened to me when I complained. I was treated like a pushover. Every difficult task, every late assignment, every unfinished job somehow always found its way onto my desk, while everyone else packed up and went home on time.

I adjusted the thick black frames of my glasses and tugged the sleeves of my oversized beige cardigan further down over my hands, trying to keep warm. I looked around the empty room one last time. A small, tired sigh escaping my lips.

“Finally,” I muttered, shutting down my computer. “I can go home.”

I started packing my bag, shoving files, pens, and my laptop inside, ready to leave this place behind and go back to my small, quiet apartment. Just as I slung my bag over my shoulder, ready to finally leave, my phone buzzed loudly against the wooden desk, shattering the heavy silence of the empty office.

My lips curved instantly. It was a notification from King. My biggest fan and most loyal supporter in my other world.

King: “Hey Natty… my naughty girl. You going live soon? The countdown is officially on. I’ve got so many gifts lined up just for you tonight… mountains of diamonds, everything you want. Can’t wait to spoil you until you shake and beg me to stop.”

My eyes widened in pure horror.

“Oh no… how could I forget?”

I snatched up my phone, my fingers trembling as I checked the time again. 10:09 PM. How could I forget the most important part of my life?

After spending the entire day being everyone’s doormat, doing the work no one else wanted to touch, taking orders from people who barely even looked at me… I had almost forgotten that I had the biggest, most anticipated stream of the year tonight.

A frustrated, desperate groan escaped my lips as I hurriedly shoved the last few items into my bag. Natty? The streamer? From the pushover admin girl? Yes. That was me.

To everyone in this company, and almost everyone in the whole world, I was Natalie Coles, the quiet, overworked young assistant who kept her head down, wore thick glasses, and dressed in baggy, shapeless clothes. But online? In the world I built for myself, where I made my own rules? I was Natty… a sensation. The most famous, most desired erotic streamer on the entire platform. I was seductive, fearless, and deliciously, wickedly naughty. And to crown it all? No one online knew my face. For four years, I had streamed with my face always hidden, my identity a closely guarded secret. Behind this secret persona and hidden identity, I had built an audience of thousands, men and women alike, who tuned in every single night just to watch me move, to hear me speak, and to worship the body I hid so well in real life.

Another notification beeped through my phone, jolting me back to reality. This time, from one of my top fans, a woman who loved me just as much as the men did, and spent fortunes just to see me be as s*xy and wild as possible.

Fan: “Natty!! Almost time! Counting down the seconds… don’t be late baby, I’ve been saving up all week just for you!”

My heart dropped straight to my stomach. Oh no. I was supposed to go live at 10:30 PM. Tonight’s stream was a massive event, a special “Midnight Show” that happened only once a year. It meant everything to me, and everyone had been waiting and anticipating it for weeks. If I left the office now, by the time I got home, got inside, locked my door, and set everything up, it would be nearly 11:30 PM. I would be late. I would disappoint thousands. And more importantly… I would lose thousands, maybe millions, in gifts and revenue. I couldn’t afford that. Not with the bills piling up.

I groaned, running a hand through my messy hair in frustration. Panic flared hot in my chest, but it was quickly replaced by a wild, dangerous thrill that made my skin prickle and heat pool instantly, wet and heavy, between my legs.

My gaze drifted slowly across the empty office floor, scanning every corner. Then… an idea struck me. I knew this building inside and out. Every floor, every hallway, every open workspace, every corridor was covered in security cameras. I knew that for a fact. I was the one who helped review the security logs sometimes. If I even tried to undress or stream out here in the open, I would be caught instantly. My life would be ruined forever.

But… there was one place. Only one place. Dangerous… yes. But completely private.

My gaze shifted toward the far end of the corridor, where the heavy, polished mahogany doors stood imposingly closed. The CEO’s Private Office. Liam Sterling’s office. I knew for a fact, because I had personally handled the security setup files when he moved in, that his office had absolutely zero cameras inside. Unlike the rest of the building, it wasn’t monitored. It wasn’t watched.

A wicked, sinful idea took over my mind completely. Why not? It was safe. It was private. It was soundproof. It was the perfect place. And the thought of doing this… of being Natty… right under his nose. Sitting in his chair. On his massive desk. The exact spot where the cold, arrogant, terrifyingly handsome Mr. Sterling sat every day, judging people, signing papers, looking at the world like he owned it… God… just the thought sent a rush of adrenaline and raw heat straight to my core, making me throb with aching need.

“It would only be for one stream,” I whispered to myself, my eyes still glued to those heavy doors, my breath coming faster. “Yes… just one harmless stream. No one would ever know.”

I grabbed my bag and hurried down the corridor, my heels clicking softly against the marble floor, sounding loud in the silence.

My hand trembled slightly as I reached out and pushed the heavy door open. To my utter luck… it wasn’t locked. I remembered hearing him mention once that he barely ever locked his office doors, claiming no one dared enter his space without permission anyway.

Big mistake, Mr. Sterling… someone is about to do the unthinkable in your private space.