After that day, she couldn’t stay away
Every office visit started with her pretending to ask questions about the previous lecture-and ended with her choking on his huge cock, or squealing into his hands as he pounded her pussy from behind.
You’re mine now,” he’d growl, biting into her back as he stuffed her full. “My perfect little fuck toy.”
And Pamela?
She loved it.
She loved the way he manhandled her, the way he used her. She loved the sting of his belt, the ache of his fingers digging into her hips. She loved how he made her beg, and how he made her break.
Most of all?
She loved that he knew-that behind the sweet choir girl façade, she was nothing but a dirty, desperate slut.
And she never wanted it to stop
But what happened on today was different; his wife had almost caught them.
She hurried down the sidewalk towards her off campus house. The cool morning air did nothing to soothe the heat simmering beneath her skin.
“His wife almost caught us.”
The thought should have terrified her. It did terrify her-but not in the way it should have. Instead of shame, a thrill shot through her at the memory of hiding in the bathroom, bound and dripping, listening to Richard lie effortlessly to his wife.
She bit her lip, adjusting the sleeves of her sweater to cover the faint red marks the rope had left around her wrist.
She pushed open her front door to see Sophia her roommate sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone. Sophia looked up, relief flashing across her face.
“Jesus, Pam,” she exhaled. “You didn’t reply any of my texts. I was about to send out a search party.”
Pamela forced a laugh, slipping off her shoes. “Sorry, my phone died. The study session finished late, so I crashed at a friend’s place.”
“That’s right,” Pamela thought to herself. “A study session-with Richard.”
Sophia’s eyes narrowed slightly-just enough to make Pamela’s pulse spike-but she didn’t press further. “Well, next time, borrow someone’s charger. You know I worry.”
“I will,” Pamela promised, already edging towards the hallway. “I’m gonna take a bath, I’ll be back”
Sophia nodded, turning back to her phone
The second the bathroom door locked behind her, she peeled off her clothes. The mirror showed the aftermath-bruises on her hips, the faint outline of his teeth on her shoulder, her pussy still swollen and tender.
She stepped into the shower, the scalding water spreading over her flushed skin. Steam rose around her as she leaned against the tiles, her fingers already trailing down her stomach.
The memory of all that happened that morning crashed over her at once
“You love this, don’t you? Being my filthy little fuck toy?”
She bit back a moan, her fingers circling her clit with rough, desperate strokes. Her other hand slid lower, two fingers slipping into her soaked wet pussy. She whimpered, imagining it was Richard’s cock filling her up. The pleasure built until her thighs trembled
“Daddy-“ she choked out, as the long delayed orgasm ripped through her..
She fell against the shower wall, panting, and as the water washed away the evidence of all that had happened that morning, Pamela knew one thing for certain-Richard held her soul.
“Wednesday-“she whispered, alone.
Richard’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel, the rhythmic tap-tap-tap the only sound in the car besides his own breathing. Three days of tailing Eleanor had yielded nothing but routine—work, lunch, yoga, home. He had decided to do some investigation of his own while waiting for Magnus. But today was different. Today, she’d deviated. The Sunbeam Motel was a dingy little place on the outskirts of town, the kind of spot where the neon sign flickered more than it glowed, and the parking lot smelled faintly of gasoline and regret. Eleanor’s car rolled to a stop beside a sleek black sedan—the kind the university reserved for administrators. Richard’s jaw tightened as he recognized the plates. Assistant Dean Cooper. What the hell are you doing here, Eleanor? He watched as she stepped out, adjusting her sunglasses before striding toward Room 7. No hesitation. No looking around. Like she’d done this before. His phone buzzed in his pocket. Magnus. Richard answered w
The moment Eleanor’s car disappeared down the driveway, Richard’s composure shattered.Pamela. He promised to keep her safe. And he would. He couldn’t let this happen. Richard grabbed his phone from the counter, his fingers moving before his mind could fully catch up. He scrolled to Pamela’s contact, hesitated for half a second, then pressed call.It rang once. Twice. Then— “Hello?”Her voice was small. Richard closed his eyes. “Don’t say a word.” A beat of silence. Then, “What?”“At the hearing or summons,” he said, his voice low, measured. “If they ask you anything—anything—you don’t answer. You say you don’t remember. You say nothing.” Another pause. He could almost hear the way her breath hitched, the way her fingers must be tightening around the phone. “Richard, I—”“No.” He cut her off, sharper than he intended. He softened his tone. “Don’t explain. Don’t defend yourself. Don’t give them anything to use against you.” A shaky exhale on the other end. “Okay.”“I’ll
The drive home was a blur of rage and desperation. Richard’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel, his jaw clenched so tight it ached. The dean’s office, Pamela’s tear-filled confession, the realization that someone had tipped them off—it all pointed to one person. Eleanor.He pulled into the driveway with a screech of tires, barely registering the slam of the car door as he stormed toward the house. The front door rattled on its hinges as he threw it open. “Eleanor!” No answer. Just the faint hum of the air conditioner and the distant clink of glass from upstairs. Richard took the steps two at a time, his pulse roaring in his ears. The master bedroom door stood ajar. And there she was—perched on the edge of their bed like a queen on a throne, one leg crossed over the other, a half-empty glass of red wine dangling from her fingertips. She didn’t even flinch at his entrance. Just lifted her gaze, slow and deliberate, her lips curling into that infuriating, knife-sharp
Pamela lay sprawled across Richard’s desk, her body still humming from the aftershocks of their encounter until her phone buzzed violently against the wooden surface. She groaned, rolling her head to the side to glance at the screen. Sophia. Richard’s hand, which had been lazily tracing circles on her bare thigh, stilled. “Who is it?” His voice was rough, still thick with desire. Pamela swallowed, reaching for the phone with tremblingfingers. “Sophia. She says it’s urgent.” Richard exhaled through his nose but didn’t stop her as she swiped to answer, putting the call on speaker. “Pam!” Sophia’s voice was sharp, laced with something Pamela had never heard before—panic. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve called you six times!” Pamela winced, pushing herself up on her elbows. “I was—uh—” She shot Richard a helpless look. He arched a brow, unimpressed. “I was busy,” she finished lamely. Sophia made a frustrated noise. “Busy? Jesus, Pam, check your messages. Now.” The l
Now, standing in his dimly lit office, the weight of the key felt heavier than it should. The room smelled like him—uniquely Richard. She traced the edge of his desk with her fingertips, the wood smooth under her touch, before sinking into his chair. The leather creaked beneath her, still warm from where he’d been sitting. She exhaled, slow and shaky. How long had it been since they’d done this? Since he’d bent her over this very desk, since she’d gasped his name into the quiet? Too long. The ache between her thighs was proof of that. The door clicked open. Pamela didn’t turn around. She didn’t need to. The air shifted, charged with the weight of his presence, the quiet power in his footsteps as he crossed the room. The lock turned behind him. Then his hands were on her shoulders, broad and warm, sliding down her arms as he leaned over her. His breath ghosted over the shell of her ear. "Did you miss me?" The question was a growl, rough with want, but beneath it, s
Pamela woke up the next morning with a lightness in her chest that hadn’t been there in weeks. She stretched, her muscles humming with a quiet energy, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t have to force herself out from under the covers. Sophia was already in the kitchen, scrolling through her phone with one hand and shoveling cereal into her mouth with the other. She looked up as Pamela entered, her eyebrows shooting up at the sight of her. “Damn,” Sophia said, mouth half-full. “Someone’s glowing. Did you and Jason have a really good talk or something?” Pamela rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips. “Jason is so sweet. We ended things, but he still wants us to hang out. ” Sophia snorted. “Are you kidding me? He wasn't mad?” "He said he was disappointed, not mad," Pamela replied, with sadness in her voice, "But he still wants to be friends. We have friendly date at this restaurant that makes awesome chicken pies, and he ev