Shadows Of Submission

The Lunchtime Confession

Chapter three

The boardroom was all glass and steel, the kind of place where deals got made and egos got bruised. I sat at the head of the table, listening to James drone on about Q4 projections, but my mind was elsewhere—specifically between Elena’s thighs, wondering how much of my c*m was still leaking out of her right now.

She’d texted me at 11:47 a.m. during her recess.

I’d felt the buzz in my pocket like a live wire.

I excused myself mid-sentence, stepped into the hallway, and opened the message.

The photo hit me like a punch: her skirt hiked up, legs spread in a courthouse stall, p***y still swollen and glistening, a thick pearl of my c*m just starting to drip free. No filter. No shame. Just raw, filthy proof that she’d obeyed me all morning.

My c**k hardened instantly under my slacks.

I typed back fast.

Me: Good girl. Send another. Fingers inside. Show me how full you still are.

Her reply came with a new photo—two fingers buried deep, coated in our mess, her inner walls clenching visibly around them. I had to lean against the wall for a second, breathing through my nose.

Fuck, she was perfect.

I gave her instructions: rub her c**t, slow, edge herself three times, no coming. I wanted her desperate, aching, thighs slick under that prim courtroom table.

Her responses were frantic little pleas.

Elena: Daddy please… I’m so close. I need to come.

Elena: I’ll be good. I’ll keep your c*m inside me all afternoon. Just let me.

I denied her.

Me: No. Save it.

Me: Tonight you’ll come on my tongue, then on my fingers, then on my c**k—three times minimum. Until you’re crying and begging me to stop.

Me: But right now? You walk back in there aching. Dripping. Thinking about how I’m going to ruin you again the second you step through my door.

Me: Text me when you’re home. Naked. On your knees. Waiting.

She sent back a trembling Yes, Daddy. I’m yours.

I pocketed the phone, adjusted myself, and walked back into the meeting like nothing had happened. But the rest of the afternoon was torture. Every time I pictured her—sitting straight-backed in that hearing, legs crossed to hide the mess between her thighs, n*****s hard against her blouse from the constant friction, mind replaying my c**k stretching her open at dawn...I had to fight not to excuse myself again.

By 4:45, the board call wrapped. I told my assistant to cancel the rest of my day. I was already in the elevator down to the garage when her final text came through.

Elena: On my way to you. Be there in 20.

I beat her home by five minutes.

When I opened the door, there she was, exactly as ordered.

Naked on her knees in the foyer, thighs spread wide, hands clasped behind her back. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, brushing the tops of her bruised t**s. The marks I’d left last night and this morning stood out vividly against her olive skin: purple blooms from my thumbs, darker bites around her n*****s, faint red lines where I’d dragged my teeth. Her p***y was still flushed, lips puffy, a faint sheen of wetness glistening on her inner thighs. She looked up at me with those hazel eyes—glassy, needy, completely surrendered.

My chest tightened. Not just lust. Something deeper. Possession. Pride. Hunger.

“Perfect,” I said, voice rougher than I intended. I stepped inside, closed the door behind me, and loosened my tie as I walked toward her. “Look at you. My good girl.”

I fisted her hair gently, tilted her face up so she had to meet my eyes.

“You held it all day?”

She nodded, lips parted. “Every drop. I’m so full of you.”

I could smell her—arousal, faint soap from her morning shower, the musky trace of my c*m still inside her. It made my mouth water.

“Then let’s see how much more you can take.”

I scooped her up in one motion, her legs wrapping around my waist instinctively as I carried her to the bedroom. I tossed her onto the silk sheets—still rumpled and stained from this morning—and she landed with a soft gasp, thighs falling open immediately.

I stripped off my jacket, rolled up my sleeves, and dropped to my knees between her legs.

“Legs wide, baby. Daddy’s hungry.”

I didn’t tease. I buried my face in her cunt, tongue flat and broad, licking up the mess we’d made together. She tasted like salt and sweetness and me—thick, creamy evidence of every time I’d filled her. I groaned against her, the vibration making her hips buck.

“Oh God—Daddy—”

I sucked her c**t into my mouth, hard, flicking with the tip of my tongue while I slid two fingers back inside her. She was so wet, so open, so f*****g full of my c*m that it coated my hand instantly. I curled my fingers, stroking that spot, and she cried out, hands flying to my hair.

I ate her like a man starved.

She came fast—too fast—thighs clamping around my head, back arching off the bed, a gush of wetness flooding my mouth as she screamed my name. I didn’t stop. I licked her through it, slower now, drawing out every aftershock until she was whimpering, oversensitive.

When I finally lifted my head, her face was flushed, tears streaking her cheeks, mascara smudged. Beautiful. Ruined. Mine.

“First one,” I said, voice low. “Two more to go.”

I climbed over her, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand, and slid my c**k free with the other. She was still pulsing around nothing, desperate.

“Please,” she whispered. “f**k me, Daddy. Use me.”

I slammed home in one thrust.

Her scream echoed off the walls.

I f****d her hard, deep, relentless—skin slapping, t**s bouncing, her nails digging into my back. I watched her face the whole time: eyes rolling back, mouth open in constant moans, body shaking under mine.

When she came the second time—clenching so tight around me I nearly lost it—I pulled out, flipped her onto her stomach, and yanked her hips up.

“Ass up. Face down.”

She obeyed instantly.

I spread her cheeks, spat on her tight little hole, and worked a finger in while I slid back into her p***y. She sobbed into the pillow, pushing back against me, begging for more.

I gave it to her.

Finger in her ass, c**k pounding her cunt, thumb on her clit...she shattered again, squirting this time, soaking the sheets, my thighs, everything.

I followed right after, burying myself to the hilt and coming hard, filling her one more time until it leaked out around me.

We collapsed together, with her trembling underneath me, and my weight pinning her down.

I kissed the back of her neck, tasting salt.

“You did so good today, baby girl,” I murmured. “Held it all day just for me.”

She turned her head, eyes soft, voice hoarse. “Always for you, Daddy.”

I pulled her close, c**k still half-hard inside her, plugging every drop.

The night was young.

And she was mine. Completely.