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Jealousy, degradation,
semi-public sex, etc...
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You were confused as to why Vera had ushered you to the Governor's office so soon after you were just outside in the yard. The authoritative figure only called you in if she needed information, but nothing out of the ordinary had happened in which information would need to be given.
Your stomach churned when after a few hasty knocks, Vera announced your presence before the Governor herself sent the deputy off for the rest of the night.
Hands fidgeted in front of you as you stood behind the now closed door, unmoved. Big, brown eyes were watching you like a hawk as the older woman stood tall next to her desk.
"Come here," she demanded, arms folded over her chest.
She looked slightly annoyed, and to your knowledge, you hadn't done anything wrong or withheld vital information from her. Yet you still did as you were told, and walked until you were mere inches from her, eyes cast down in obedience.
A surprised gasp came from you when Joan grabbed a fistful of your shirt and pulled you flush against her body. Your hands involuntarily grasped at her hips to steady yourself as you finally locked eyes with the woman.
You took her all in, hair slightly disheveled as if her fingers were running through it constantly, ruining her usually perfect bun. Her eyebrows were knitted together, and her lips were formed into a small frown.
Those who didn't know her, would just assume she was acting her usual self. But you...well, you knew her more intimately, and knew something was clearly bothering her.
"What have I told you about Franky Doyle?" She asked, finally speaking out.
Your eyebrows knitted in confusion, not expecting her to bring up the brunette. "I— what?" You shook your head.
"Do not play dumb with me, slut. Answer my question. And answer it now." Her grip on your shirt merely tightened, and you knew moving would be impossible with her deathly grip.
"You told me to stay away from her..." you answered after a moment, recalling her previous words.
She had not asked you, but demanded you to stay away from her, knowing you were just Franky's type and not wanting the woman to lay her hands on you.
After all, Joan was never one to share her toys.
"And have you? Been staying away from her?" She knowingly asked, lifting a high brow.
"No, Governor..." you sheepishly lowered your eyes, cheeks growing a deep crimson at your confession.
"Such an attention seeking little whore.." she spat. "I leave for two days and this is what I come back to? You getting all handsy with her?!"
"I'm sorry..." you apologized, looking back at her with big, puppy dog eyes. "I won't do it again, Governor. I promise." Your hands gently stroked her wide hips, in hopes of soothing the woman.
That was a little trick of yours. You had quickly found out that Joan melted at your touch. Your soft, sweet, and tender touches would always ease her stress, and you used it to your advantage.
"Let me make it up to you." Your lashes fluttered as your hands eagerly wandered to her belt buckle.
"Someone's a little impatient," she noted, visibly relaxing as your hands crept under her shirt to touch her bare stomach.
