#about!chase

Camille hated mother’s day. She hated thinking about people celebrating with mothers who loved them, and cared for them. Mothers who hadn’t left them, who hadn’t died. Fuck all of them.

Cam sat at a bar having her third fruity drink that hid the effects of the vodka at the start. As she finished off her glass and threw a glare at the judging woman sitting beside her, Camille Dihanne pulled out her phone knowing it was a very bad idea. Her fingers flew across the touch screen.

What are you doing? I want to talk to you. I need to talk to you. Where are you?

Enough time had passed for her to get a third of the way through her fourth drink before her phone buzzed in response.

Hey If you need to talk to me talk. If you need to know where I am because you want me to fuck away your pain again you know what you have to do. ;)

Camille ground her teeth and rolled her eyes. What the fuck was she doing? She didn’t need this shit. She didn’t need the help of a woman who continued to make her feel like shit... except she really did need this right now.

Fuck you, Chase.

She slammed her phone down on the bar and picked up her glass before throwing it back, finishing its contents. When the phone buzzed again she just stared a moment murmuring to herself something about not looking just as she picked the phone up and slid over the lock with her index finger.

Don’t you mean, fuck me Chase? No better yet. Don’t you mean. Please fuck me daddy, please? Please stick your fingers so deep inside my wet pussy, I can’t see straight. Please fuck my dirty little cunt with that big strap on so hard that I see God. Please, daddy, pretty please. That’s what you mean, right Camille?

Camille closed her eyes and licked her lips and as she inhaled deeply. The restaurant had become a sweltering 110 degrees suddenly. Images memories flooded her mind and she grunted her frustration audible before waving over the bartender to request her bill. She sent another text.

You’re such a fucking bitch.

>>>

That’s not the way to get what you want little girl. You know what happens when you throw a tantrum. Now I’m going to have to spank that little ass red before I fuck you senseless. Now say what you need to say and get over here.

Her head fell as she rubbed harshly at the back of her neck and a quiet “shit” fell from her lips

I hate you so fucking much. … Please daddy. I need you to fuck me. I’m a sad dirty girl, daddy.  I need your fingers and I need your mouth. I need you daddy, please.

Camille bit down hard on her lip as she stared at the phone willing it to buzz quickly.

You’re daddy’s good girl when you want to be. But that ass is still getting spanked. Get over here right now so I can fuck you. I have date later.

This shit was addicting. She couldn’t deny it, though she did. She needed a distraction, she needed to forget. 

Please, daddy, all night?

>>>

I’ll decide how long you stay based on how well you eat my pussy.

Remember panties aren’t allowed in my house. 

“Bitch”