Chapter 2

This wasn’t the life Pamela had envisioned for herself. She was a twenty year old college student from a strong Christian home. Her dad was a deacon in her church. She had been brought up in the most Christian way ever. She had spent every evening of the week in church. Being a member of the choir and also the deacon’s daughter, she was required to be present during all church gatherings.

In the eyes of her congregation, she was this sweet innocent choir girl with brown hair and blue eyes. But here she was, getting pounded face down by her history professor.

“Fuck,” Pamela cursed. “You told me she went to see her mum and wouldn’t be back till Monday”.

“Well, I’m as surprised as you are,” Richard replied. “You’ve got to hide right now.”

“Come on, get up-up”, he tried helping her up, but she couldn’t stand. She was still bound hand and feet.

“The least you can do is to untie me”.

He reached out and grabbed her feet, undoing the knots in a hurry. She was still wet and the struggle between her bond and his hands made her juices flow. 

She leaned over to his ears and whispered, “Kiss me daddy, tell me I’ve been a good girl”.

He bent down and placed his lips against hers. The kiss was soft but urgent. She parted her lips in submission to receive his tongue. She moaned softly into his mouth, her pussy still trembling from their previous encounter. But the knock on the door grew louder.

“Richard! Open the damn door, I forgot my keys!” his wife’s voice was sharp, impatient.

Richard pulled back sharply.

“Daddy-“, Pamela whispered, breathless.

“Shh.” He pressed a finger to her swollen lips.

With one last frantic look, he grabbed her discarded clothes from the floor and shoved them into her arms. “Bathroom. Now.”

Pamela scrambled, her hands tied, her legs unsteady, her thigh still slick with sweat, lube and her juices. She barely made it inside before she heard the front door creak open.

“What took you so long?” His wife’s voice was laced with worry and suspicion.

“Sorry, was just about to hit the shower,” Richard lied smoothly

Pamela pressed her ear against the bathroom door. She could feel her heart beating frantically against her ribcage. What if she got caught? She was not the fighting type. She would just run away with her hands tied through the streets. The thought of her getting caught made her scared, but also excited. She was fucking excited

She could hear the muffled conversation-his wife complaining about her mother, about traffic, about how she’d decided to come back early due to an emergency at work.

Then she heard footsteps coming closer.

Her breath hitched.

The bathroom door knob jiggled.

“Why is this locked”?

Richard’s voice was quick. “I think the latch is stuck. It’s been acting up lately.

There was a pause, then a sigh. “Whatever. I’m going to take a nap. Flight was exhausting”.

Pamela exhaled with relief. She had nearly pissed herself. She waited, listening as the footsteps retreated, as the bedroom door clicked shut.

A few minutes later, Richard’s whisper came through the door. “Coast is clear. You can come out”.

Pamela unlocked the door, stepping out. Richard’s eyes darkened as he took in her disheveled state-her scattered hair, her smeared eyeliner, the way her thighs glistened. 

He grabbed her bound wrist, pulling her close. “You’re such a girl,” he murmured before crashing his lips against hers, his tongue claiming her mouth like he owned it.

Pamela whimpered, pressing against him. “When can I see you again?”

“Wednesday. My office.” He quickly unbound her wrist and squeezed her full round ass. “Now get dressed and go out the back”.

With one last hungry kiss, Pamela obeyed, slipping out unseen.