Whipped by my catboy boyfriend

Second Date

I woke up sore, naked, covered in bruises and hickeys in a hotel room. My waist was covered in hand-shaped marks, unsurprisingly. Red and blotchy skin, sensitive to the touch ran from my ass right to the top of my thighs. I had a headache and a dry throat. Annoyingly, there was a sealed bottle of mineral water on the hotel nightstand with a pink loveheart shaped sticky note on it.

Baby,

Don't be stubborn.

I balled my fists, wanting very badly to smack the offending bottle onto the hotel carpet floor and smash it with my foot.

But I was seriously thirsty and the room had a still, empty air. I unsealed the cap and drained the bottle angrily, guzzling almost half of it in a single go. I was really dehydrated.

The room wasn't the cheap sort of hotel that you rent by the hour. Bigger than my own dormitory, the deep red carpet offset cream painted walls. A landscape in a wooden frame hung over a small breakfast table to one side. A pair of pristine white bathrobes sat on hooks beside the bathroom door. A spread of room service trays were on the coffee table. Thick navy blue curtains were drawn over the room, but through the gap I could see the blinding light of the city outside.

I finished off the bottle of water and stood up on shaky legs. My ass muscles were sore and abused and my insides felt like I'd been heavy-lifting, but nothing was torn or broken. I almost wished I had more evidence of the roughness from last night.

Another sticky note almost disappeared under my foot. I winced, bending down to pick it up.

Baby,

Good morning~

I crumpled the note, tearing the paper. This fucker...

My clothing from yesterday was folded neatly on one of the chairs in front of the coffee table. I tore off the sticky note on top of my shirt and scrunched it into a tiny ball of hate.

Baby,

My number is in your phone. I'll message you around lunchtime, okay~

Since I was clean, and my mouth smelled like mint, I guess he must have cleaned up the mess last night, while I'd been unconscious. The thought of what he might have done to me while I was in the bath was too infuriating!

Who the hell was this psycho? What the hell happened to me yesterday! I couldn't accept it, I wouldn't! I wanted my goddamn virginity back!

My clothes were freshly laundered, still smelling faintly of fabric softener. I tugged on my uniform and adjusted the tie. Most Imperial colleges don't have a uniform, except for Dawson Royal Academy. The uniform helped remind people of its lofty reputation.

My phone was in my pocket. I opened it, checking the time. It was a little before eleven. I didn't have any classes until after lunch.

Three text messages showed on my lock screen from 'beloved boyfriend.'

Fucking serious?

He knew my phone password and even set his own contact name? This wasn't normal, right? I hear some girls complaining about controlling or overbearing boyfriends, but this...

No, that wasn't the point, the point was, I wasn't dating some psycho who kidnaps young men, violates them, then arbitrarily decides he's their boyfriend, without even knowing his name!

I unlocked my phone.

Baby,

Last night was so good, I cannot wait to do it again, but take care of your body, you can't go wild again today.