ANGEL
"Describe what it feels like when you think about him filling you up."
My thumb hovered over the glowing screen, my lower lip trapped between my teeth.
"Don’t hold back, doll. This is a safe space. I want to know every filthy thought in that pretty head of yours."
I sank back into my pillows, my hips wriggling against the mattress as a hot wave of slick moisture pooled between my thighs. For two months, this anonymous chat app had been my confession booth. I didn’t know his name, his age, or where he was—only that he talked like a possessive Master, claiming to own a collection of mindless sex slaves who lived to serve him.
I knew it was probably just his fucked-up roleplay. But reading his words made my core ache in a way I couldn’t control.
My fingers flew across the keyboard, typing out the depraved secret that was eating me alive from the inside out:
’My secret is that I want Daddy to stuff every single one of my holes. I want his nine inches stretching me open until I sob. I want his heavy balls slapping against my thighs while he breeds me, and I want to swallow his thick cum until it drips down my chin. I want to be Daddy’s exclusive little whore.’
My heart hammered against my ribs as I hit send. My breath came in short, jagged pants. It was the dirtiest, most disgusting confession I’d ever put into words, and the seconds ticking by without a reply sent a thrill of pure panic through my blood.
Three dots appeared on the screen.
"You’re such a filthy little slut," the stranger replied. "A mouth made for obeying. Tell me... what do you hate about him?"
I frowned at the screen. Hate?
’I don’t hate Daddy,’ I typed back rapidly, the keys clicking under my nails. ’I hate Mommy Jill though. I hate seeing his dick come out shiny from her dripping cunt. I hate hearing her scream when he eats her out, because that should be ME. I hate settling for the crusty precum in his dirty laundry when I want to gulp down his load raw.’
My pulse throbbed in my ears. I couldn’t stop now. The high was too intense.
’And I hate her brother, Damien. He’s always lurking around like a ghost, looking at my ass. I know he wants to fuck me, but he’ll never touch me. I belong to Daddy alone.’
Silence.
I waited one minute. Two minutes. Nothing.
Sighing, I tossed the phone face-down onto the mattress. Fine. Let him digest how corrupted I really was. I had thirty minutes before Martha called me down for dinner, and my body was practically screaming for relief.
My gaze drifted to the edge of my pillow.
Peeking out from beneath the silk was a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers—the ones I’d stolen out of the laundry basket this morning after Jill dumped them.
I pressed the fabric to my face, inhaling deeply. His heavy musk, mixed with the sharp bite of his expensive cologne, sent an instant, electric shock straight to my clit.
"Fuck," I whimpered.
I yanked my shorts down to my ankles, exposing my bare, dripping entrance. My slick fingers plunged straight inside, pumping in and out as I pressed the soft cotton of his underwear directly against my throbbing nub.
Faster. Harder.
I squeezed my eyes shut, imagining Daddy pinning my wrist over my head, his massive, heavy frame crushing me into the bed as he drove his thick cock into me without mercy.
"Daddy," I gasped, my hips jerking violently off the bed, rubbing myself raw against his scent. "Daddy, please... fuck your good girl..."
I was right on the edge. The orgasm was coiling tight in my stomach, ready to tear through me.
"I’m cumming for you, Daddy! Your little whore is—"
A sharp click echoed through the room.
My eyes snapped open. My fingers froze inside myself, buried knuckle-deep in my own wetness, my shorts tangled around my feet, Daddy’s boxers clutched tightly in my left hand.
Standing in the doorway—having stepped silently past the unlocked lock—was Damien.
Uncle Damien. Daddy’s best friend. Jillian’s brother.
His icy grey eyes were locked onto my exposed, slick thighs, completely emotionless as he took in every inch of my ruined state.
Damien cleared his throat softly, his lips twisting into a dark smirk.
"Your mom asked me to tell you dinner is ready."