hostage | - dod sequel • completed ✓

17

Sasha's P.O.V -

The interview was an absolute disaster.

As if my life could get any worse.

For starters, Grey wasn't at all interested. He was more so confused as to why I was there.

On top of that he seemed off. Word around is that he is always calm, cool, and collected. I could see through his professionalism. Broken.

Is everyone in the BDSM community a wreck?

I guess so...

And I'm included, not by choice of course.

He said he would get back to me or mistress with his decision on taking me under contract or not but I highly doubt he will.

He looks destroyed, maybe it's because his contract with his last sub ended earlier than expected.

The love bug must have bit them.

I roll my eyes at the thought. How the fuck can you fall in love with someone who is hired to hurt you? Or someone who was hired for you to hurt?

On top of all of this I am destroyed, as I should be.

It's all because of one special man...

His words, god those words are pumping in my head.

'Whore, whore, whore.'

I start to tear up as I sit on my couch eating my plain old vanilla ice cream.

I find myself staring at the black television screen, just thinking.

Hmm, I wonder who used to do that.

I don't blame him much more, it's effective.

Staring in to space with no bothers even just for a sweet minute is pleasant.

I wonder what he would think about.

All the ways he could beat you, maybe.

He didn't really beat me. He only spanked, flogged, and fucked me during sex only.

It was somewhat consensual aiding to the fact that I had safe words, but he would be horribly pissed if I used them.

Grumpy Baron was not fun.

There was nothing he could do though, a safe word is a safe word. All activity must seize immediately when the submissive uses that word to surrender. His words not mine.

I remember when he first started discussing the terms with me, oh god. I blush at the memory...

"So, let's get straight to it. Are you a virgin?"

My eyes widen at his bold question.

"Trust me sweetheart there will be far more embarrassing things in this relationship then admitting if you've been deflowered."

I cringe and look down to my knotted fingers which sit in my lap, fiddling.

"No, I'm not a virgin."