Remmy

"Like clockwork," my patient said. "He returns nightly to fuck me and give me head," she said softly, her eyes glazed over with the vividness of her nocturnal fantasy. It was the same dream she'd been recounting for weeks, a reoccurring scene that played out in her mind's theater every time she closed her eyes.

"And how does that make you feel?" I asked, my voice calm and professional. I'd posed this question countless times before, but the words had a different meaning tonight.

Her eyes snapped to reality, and she looked at me with a hint of annoyance. "It makes me wet," she admitted, her cheeks flushing. "It's... strange, but it's the only thing that gets me off these days."

The admission was like a punch to the gut. It was as if Victory's voice was in the room with us, whispering those exact words into my ear. The line between my professional and personal life was blurred, and I felt guilty for bringing my desires into the session. But I couldn't deny the way my dick was stirring in my pants. The thought of her, her tight little pussy begging for it, was too much to ignore.

I cleared my throat, pushing the image aside. "Well, let's explore that," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "Tell me more about this... person in your dream. What does he do to you?"

Her eyes took on a faraway look, and she leaned back into the plush couch. "He's... dominant," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "He takes what he wants, and I love it."

It was like she was describing me, and I couldn't help but feel a thrill of power. I leaned back in my chair, my fingers steepled as I listened to her every word. "And what does he say to you?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"He calls me 'his little slut,'" she said, her voice thick with lust. "He tells me how much he loves my tight little ass, how much he loves to fill me up."

The words jolted me, and I had to resist the urge to adjust myself. The dream clearly manifested her deepest desires, and I couldn't help but wonder if she knew just how much she was revealing to me.

"Does this person have a name?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Remmy," she murmured, her eyes half-closed. "He calls himself 'Daddy.'"

The name hung in the air like a challenge, and I felt my dick throb in response. It was as if she'd reached into my mind and plucked out the thoughts keeping me up at night. I swallowed hard, trying to maintain my composure. "Is there anything else you'd like to share about this... relationship?"

Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up straight, the spell broken. "No," she said, a little too quickly. "That's all."

The session ended, and she left my office, her hips swaying with a newfound confidence that hadn't been there before. I sat there for a moment, the echo of her words resonating through the room. It was clear that the line between reality and fantasy had blurred for her, and I had a feeling that the next time she called me "'Daddy'," it wouldn't just be in her dreams.

The thought of Victory, of her sexy, tight ass begging for me, was all I could think about. The urge to take her, to claim her in every way possible, was overwhelming. But I knew I had to tread carefully. Victory was a wildcard; if I played my hand wrong, she'd be gone before I could taste her sweetness.

So, I waited, biding my time. And when the moment was right, I'd make my move. Because I knew, deep down, that she was just as hungry for me as I was for her. And when the time came, I'd show her just how good it could be to have her mind fucked in real life.

Victory

"With her wrists bound behind her back, tied with a loose knot. Angel could easily free herself, but that's not what he wanted. He'd tied that knot loose purposely. It's about control for him. Sean guided her head to suck--" I stared at what was written the screen.

My eyes darted to the clock on the wall, and my heart sank. It was already lunchtime, and my thong was soaked through, sticking to my skin like a second layer. I knew I couldn't go on like this; the tension was unbearable. I needed relief, and I needed it now.

The words on the screen taunted me, a reflection of my own unfulfilled desires. I closed the laptop with a frustrated sigh, the sound echoing through the quiet office. It was useless; I couldn't concentrate on my novel with the thoughts of Remmy's call still swirling in my head. I got up and sat in my chair on the other side of the office; I draped one leg over the arm and pulled my thong to the side.

As if on cue, the door to the office swung open, and in walked Meagan, my co-worker, with Remmy trailing closely behind her. My heart skipped a beat, and I froze, my hand hovering over my pussy. "Victory," she said, her eyes wide with surprise. "I didn't know you were in here."

well.. it is my office

"I was just... working on some personal stuff," I stuttered, trying to recover. "What's up?"

Meagan's gaze flicked from my flustered expression to my exposed thigh and back. "Remmy Thornton needs to access his safety deposit box," she said, her voice a little too bright. "I told him you'd be happy to help."

The air was thick with unspoken desire and the scent of my pussy, more than likely. Remmy's eyes raked over me, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He was so fucking entertained, he was biting his lip, He doesn't even realized the hunger and need etched on his face. Seeing his resolve slightly crumbling made me smile a little, a smug satisfaction curling my lips.

I stood up, smoothing my skirt and tucking my shirt back into place. "Of course," I said, my voice cool and professional. "Follow me."

As we made our way down the corridor to the vault, his eyes never left me. I could feel the weight of his gaze like a physical caress, setting my skin alight with anticipation. When we were finally alone, he gently grabbed the hand that was rubbing my pussy when he walked in; he inhaled deeply and brought it to his mouth.

He then slowly licked every finger so sensually; his gaze never left mine, the hunger in his eyes burning into my soul. His tongue traced the contours of my digits, tasting me, savoring me. It was a promise of things to come, a declaration of his intentions that sent a shiver down my spine.

He looked at me, a question in his eyes. "what, or who were you thinking of when you were about to make yourself come Victory?" he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper that had my knees threatening to buckle.

I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice. "It was... it was just a scene for my book," I said, trying to play it off. But the way he looked at me, so intense and knowing, made me feel like he could see right through me.

"Mhmm," he said, his gaze lingering on my chest, which was heaving with every shallow breath I took. "Are you sure?" he said, sitting on the edge of the glass table. He gently grabbed my waist, pulling me to him, his fingers brushing my thighs. "Because I feel it wasn't just a scene from your book." he whispered.

I gulped, my body responding to his touch with a betraying shiver. "Maybe it was,"

get your shit together Victory

Remmy's hand remained firm on the small of my back, his fingers pressing into my flesh as he whispered, "Tell me the truth, love." His voice was like a velvet embrace, coaxing my secrets into the open. "Who were you thinking of?" he asked again.

I couldn't lie to him, not with his hand on me like that or his eyes boring into my soul. "It was you," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "Your voice, your words... haunting me all day."

His smile grew wider, a predatory glint in his eye. "I'm flattered," he said, his thumb tracing small circles on my skin. "But you'll have to do better than that if you choose to lie to me again." He said seriously.

"What do you want from me?" I asked, matching his gaze.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. "Everything, especially your attention.. your time," he murmured. "Your book, your mind, your body, all of it. I want you to crave me, to think of nothing else but the things I can do to you, the way I can make you feel."

you're late to the fucking party Remmy

I stared at him, my heart racing. "That's going to take some time, and I'm willing to wait," he said gently, brushing his lips across my knuckles on that hand.

Remmy leaned back, his eyes dark with desire. "I want to be your muse," he said, his voice a seductive purr. "Your every thought, your every need, I want to be the inspiration behind them."

The electricity between us was insane. My breath hitched in my throat as I felt his hand move upward, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of my waist. "And what do I get in return?" I asked, my voice challenged.

His eye narrowed a bit with a hint of mischief. "In return," he said, his voice dropping to a growl, "you get to experience a lifestyle that most women can only dream of." He said confidently. I tilted my head. But you can have any woman you want, Dr. Thornton." I said calmly, "Why me?"

Remmy straightened his tie, his posture becoming more commanding. "Why not you, Victory?" he asked, his voice a velvet whisper, "you have an air about you that screams 'I don't give a fuck,' and it's thrilling." His eyes bore into mine, and I felt a little shiver of excitement. "Other women are easy to read, but you..." He paused, his gaze trailing down my body. "You're a puzzle I am dying to solve."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my neck. "Call me Remmy. No more, Dr. Thornton," he murmured, his teeth grazing my earlobe. You can call me Daddy when we're in private, though."

The word sent a jolt of pleasure through me, and I couldn't help but grin. "But only if you're a good girl," he added, his grip on my waist tightening slightly. "Now, will you be a good girl for me?"

How he said it and how his hand felt on my body made me want to melt into him. "I'll think about it," I said, sounding nonchalant despite the heat pooling between my legs.

He chuckled, a deep, sexy sound that had my heart racing. "Good answer," he said, stepping back and allowing me to breathe again. "But know this: when I want something, I pursue it, I get it, and I secure it."

"Is that a promise or a threat?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A little bit of both," he said, his smile wicked. "But mostly a promise."

I couldn't help but laugh, the tension in the room dissipating slightly. "Alright, Daddy," I said, testing the word on my tongue. It felt strange, yet oddly fitting.

He leaned in again, his voice dropping to a whisper. "By the time we are done with this cat-and-mouse game, you will be screaming that name while you come on my dick, Victory." "That's a promise."

shiit