Okay, just a warning that this chapter may trigger some people. In my opinion it's really not that bad, but I still decided to put a slight warning in here. (Perhaps I'm that fucked up that I don't find it triggering although I'm sure some of you are way more than me - and I meant that as a compliment obviously).
This chapter shows how far the extents of manipulation can go. As I warned before this is not a vanilla romance, but I'm pretty sure you all got it in your heads by now that my characters are a lil bit more twisted and fucked up.
Anyway, enjoy the wickedness.
***
Oh my dear God my whole body feels sore.
I'm only grateful that I have afternoon shift today so I could have gotten a proper sleep and still had time to shower before work. I slept till noon, I was so damn exausted... damn. Not to mention the fact that I almost fell on the ground like an idiot when I stood up, I guess I underestimated the pain of sore private area. Warm water helps a bit though! I have to write that one down.
It's quite ironic, isn't it? That when I finally stop limping from injury I am now limping from... a different kind of injury.
Hushhh, we are not talking about it.
...But damn are we thinking about it a lot. Despite terrible soreness down there everytime I think about yesterday's events my private area beats with pleasure. That was intense to say the least... I was used, manhandled, called names like 'slut', put down into sumbissive, intimidatedly dominated, my mind and my body were rudely played with, I was forced to confess he is my owner, foremore I even called him daddy - three times, and still I fucking liked it.
Everybody have their issues and kinks and whatever, well mine is clearly to be dominated. He knows it, he uses it. But why am I still embarrassed by it?
Speaking about issues, God knows I have quite a few of those. Again the irony... God.
Anyway, what happened yesterday was too instense and I pretty much passed out when it was over, but when I think about it, I did like it, there is no point in denying it. Yet still I can't help, but to feel a bit used. He kind of makes me feel like that because he left right after he was done. I know it's really absurd to feel used when in reality I was the only one getting the pleasure while he got nothing in return for himself and he did, in fact, at least carry me to my bed. Still I wonder - is this how it's going to be? When he'll got what he wants he'll just leave right after? I am pretty green about all of this stuff, but even I've heard of an aftercare before. Will I ever get any? Will he ever want to do that with me? I was an emotional wreck when my high faded, thankfully I was too exausted to think about it there and then, but it doesn't mean that I magically felt normal when I woke up.
I think I'd want an aftercare, sometimes I just want to be held and taken care of. To be soothed and told I did good would surely help with nervousness and embarrassment, also I think it'd not make me feel like I was used.
I try to shake those dirty thoughts about yesterday away and remain professional as I slide past the halfway opened double doors to yet another one hell of living room. This one is more frequently used by higher ranked ones and since Maxim is currently on sick leave he comes here a lot - meaning I have to come too. He can't pour his own glasses, right? But I really don't mind though, the room is very cosy, with three really big sofas in the middle that are scattered with soft pillows, an enormous fire place and huge plasma TV. Oh, and don't forget the perfectly sized bar at the back end of area, behind sofas.
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