Chapter 3

After a moment or two of just lying limply on the kitchen tiles she pulled herself together and went upstairs.

In the huge main bedroom she stripped down, went to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror.

She was attractive. Long legs, slim waist, ample hips and tits, the kind of figure most women would kill for, all topped off by a heart shaped face with large blue eyes, a dainty nose, and full, inviting lips, framed by lush blond locks.

She turned around and bent over, the pose spreading apart her butt cheeks just enough for her to see.

There between them glittered the end of the butt plug she had been wearing since Tracey had placed it there.

Daddy’s slutty angel was the decorative writing on it in pink crystal.

She smiled.

Pamela’s greatest advantage along with her looks was that she loved sex.

She thought she might be a nymphomaniac because she was up for it pretty much whenever and where ever. And it had driven Damien crazy in the beginning because he had been convinced it would wear off eventually, so they essentially had spent days and weeks just not leaving the bedroom, wrapped up in each other and more or less constantly fucking, barely stopping to eat or sleep.

Until Damien had realised that her lustiness wasn’t going to disappear - and also that he actually did have to do some work.

He had been, and continued to be, completely obsessed with her.

He made doubly sure that she was well taken care of, not only with a platinum credit card, regular vacations and shopping trips to Paris or Rome, as well as his attention, but also in his absence with special treatments like today.

He knew that she liked women too, and since he rather enjoyed the thought of some girl on girl action, Damien supported that particular interest wholeheartedly despite otherwise being quite possessive.

Pamela checked the time. 7:40.

Still so long...

She slipped into a robe, set a timer and let herself slip into some feverish dreams of many hands and faceless men groping her, squeezing her, fucking her, filling her up everywhere. She was bound hand and foot and pounded by huge cocks, squeezing into her pussy, being stuffed into her mouth, using her – the next moment she was shoved up against the panoramic glass window pane of a hotel sweet, getting fucked from behind ... until she was awoken by the combined vibration of her phone alarm and the vibrator in her vagina.

“Mhmmm” she moaned.

The vibrator had resumed its teasing - Damien would be home soon.

She crawled out of bed, pussy drenched and aching for attention, and got herself dressed up for her man: halter-less stockings, crotchless panties that framed her labia, a half-cup long line bra and stilettos, all in matching shades of pink, topped off by the lush, deep red lipstick Damien loved to smear all over her face with his cock.

Applying the lipstick was especially challenging with all the twitching from the vibrator.

She barely had time to stalk downstairs and drape herself seductively on the bottom of the stairs, long legs spread wide, before she heard the key in the door and Damien entered.

He came in, eyes downcast, and turned his back to her as he closed the door. Shoulders tense with anticipation.

Took off his coat.

Hung it up next to hers. Paused to smell the cashmere of her coat for her perfume.

Took off his shoes and socks.

His jacket.

Then rolled up his shirt sleeves.

Slowly, deliberately, he turned around, eyes closed.

Then, with a deep breath, he opened his eyes.

Pamela blushed under his gaze like a damn virgin.

“Welcome home.” she said coily.

The smile that spread across Damien’s face could only be described as diabolical as he reached into his pocket, next to the growing bulge in his trousers, and pulled out his phone.

He swiped and tapped, and the vibrator ramped up again.

“OoohhH mgnnn” Pamela slumped, panting.

“Daddy’s home!”

He stepped over to her and crouched down between her legs.

“Goodness, Pam, you’re swimming in it. Bet we could fill a tub with your juice from today, my little slut.” he said gleefully, tracing a finger over her exposed labia “You’re dripping on the floor...”

Pamela couldn’t respond.

Damien grinned again, plunged two fingers into her and pulled out the offending device.

“Fun little thing, isn’t it?”

“Torture is what it is!”

“Oh, but you like it. And I feel I’ve been way too lenient with you today. Next time I won’t make that mistake.”

Pamela swallowed.

“Now, kitten, let’s go and start the evening, shall we” he helped her feet and then scooped her up and carried her to the living room.

The lavish, open plan living room was centred around a 360° fire place that had several plush, white leather and velour sofas positioned around it, along with springy, soft rugs.

Damien set Pamela down on one of the sofas and positioned her legs out to the sides in an arousing tableau that, she knew, must look more than inviting. He continued to stare at her spread out vulva, gently caressing her legs and stomach.
She relaxed into his touch and closed her eyes, relishing the moment.

“You must be desperate by now, baby...” he rumbled, running a finger over her entrance, she shuddered with delight.

“I was so close so many times today.”

“I know” the mischief in his voice was unmistakable “Me too.”
She opened her eyes and looked at him.

He grinned maliciously and reached for his phone again, taped around for a moment, and showed her the screen.

There she was, on the massage table, Tracey working her magic on her. Pamela stared at the screen in disbelief, her astonishment mixing with more arousal even as she watched Tracey fuck her with the fake dick.

She looked up at Damien.

Before she could say anything he pushed a finger into her pussy and her head fell backward with a moan.

He began to move the finger.

“You didn’t think I would leave you alone with Tracey on a day like today, did you? No, I wanted to see exactly how desperate you were. You look so pretty when you cry because you want it so bad...” he slipped a second finger into her “Now, my little slut, you’re ready to let me use you for a couple of hours, aren’t you?” he taunted.

“Please, Day, please, I want it so bad, I...!” she could hardly speak with the overwhelming lust he caused her.

“My my, I’ve been edging you so much today. How many orgasms did you miss? 5? 10?”
“I’ve lost count.”