Daddy's Little Angel
Tears pricked my eyes, but my pussy clenched, betraying me.
“You are dripping, little girl. Pain makes you wetter, huh?” He slapped my pussy lightly, then harder, the wet smacks echoing in the room. Each one sending jolts of fire through me, my folds swelling under the abuse.
He stepped back, smirking, and flicked on the meeting room’s projector mounted on the ceiling. The screen at the end of the table lit up. He pulled out his phone, connected it wirelessly, and there they were, my nudes. Photos I had no clue about, that were clicked when I was in a basement, naked in front of him, my tits on display, ass arched, pussy visible through the fold of my thighs.