need to stay calm when Eddie calls you in for the meeting. He’ll be doing that in a couple hours.” Again, he speaks as if I’ve said nothing. My fury is unnoticed by him. “He cannot know I’ve given this information to you. I’m not sure how much he’s going to say to you or if he’ll even discuss the course of the upcoming season, but I thought you should be forewarned.”
“Forewarned?” I scoff. “You didn’t want to forewarn me of anything. You wanted to come over here and throw this shit at me, watch me explode, and know you still have leverage over me. This is how you play the game. Well, I’ve had enough!”
“You’ll have enough when I say you’ve had enough, do you understand me, lover? I can break you in a matter of minutes and all your work to crush Tucker will be for not. I own you and it’s time for my payment. Now strip!”
He pulls his cell phone out and brings forth the video again for me to see.
“You know I don’t bluff.”
He’s right. I know him and he does what he says he’ll do. Defeated by my lack of options and arguments, I start to shed my clothing, going as slowly as I can. Fire still courses through my veins, anger so hot over the information he gave me, but there’s nothing I can do with it at this moment. Instead, I stand bare before him, a shell of the person I am.
“That’s better. Now, put these around your neck.”
My eyes drop to see what he’s talking about and I wish I hadn’t. Metal balls hanging from chains dangle from his hands. I can tell they are heavy from looking at them. He intends to keep me down, shackled, while he desecrates my body. It’s one more attempt at breaking me.
I. Will. Not. Break!
With my gaze fixed on his, I grab the leaden weights, bring them about my shoulders, and watch the satisfaction fill his eyes. He grabs at me and I take satisfaction in knowing I’m limp in his hand. I have never been hard for this man.
He wants to punish my lack of submitting, my lack of commitment to him. I can see the ferocity in his eyes. A storm of wrath rages so deep, I know if I get caught in the winds of his punishment, I’ll be tossed around and battered until I’m nothing but a bloody mass left in the remnants of his vehemence.
Although I know the violence that threatens to push forth from the calm exterior he allows the world to see, I still can’t bring myself to participate in the heinous acts he performs on my body. There is no attraction to him and my body’s lack of response says what I wish I could. Maybe the way for me to win against him is to continue not feeling. There has to be a way to crack his rock hard shell and start the downward spiral to him losing control.
“I see you, lover. See you thinking. This is not a time for thinking. Only feeling.”
My body shudders in protest of his words, but I fear he’ll take it as a sign of arousal. Closing my eyes, I prepare myself for the invasion.
“What are you doing, Grant?”
I open my eyes to his oily orbs staring back at me. He’s not reaching out to touch me and I’m confused. I shrug at him, not understanding what he’s asking.
“We’re not in your bedroom.”
Ah, of course. He always has to take me on my bed. Another sign of his dominance over me.
I walk through my living room, naked, with metal balls hanging around my neck, as he follows me, still fully dressed. In my mind, I question how I missed the bag he brought in with him. I just saw it now as I walked by the couch. Would I have been more on edge knowing he brought weapons of torment with him?
It’s too late to question the “what ifs” now.
“Get on the bed and wait for me. I assume you made sure the sheets are clean for me.”
The arrogance he gives off makes me want to choke—mostly choke him, but breathing for me is difficult, too. I nod or give some subtle response to his question because he murmurs a favorable
“Forewarned?” I scoff. “You didn’t want to forewarn me of anything. You wanted to come over here and throw this shit at me, watch me explode, and know you still have leverage over me. This is how you play the game. Well, I’ve had enough!”
“You’ll have enough when I say you’ve had enough, do you understand me, lover? I can break you in a matter of minutes and all your work to crush Tucker will be for not. I own you and it’s time for my payment. Now strip!”
He pulls his cell phone out and brings forth the video again for me to see.
“You know I don’t bluff.”
He’s right. I know him and he does what he says he’ll do. Defeated by my lack of options and arguments, I start to shed my clothing, going as slowly as I can. Fire still courses through my veins, anger so hot over the information he gave me, but there’s nothing I can do with it at this moment. Instead, I stand bare before him, a shell of the person I am.
“That’s better. Now, put these around your neck.”
My eyes drop to see what he’s talking about and I wish I hadn’t. Metal balls hanging from chains dangle from his hands. I can tell they are heavy from looking at them. He intends to keep me down, shackled, while he desecrates my body. It’s one more attempt at breaking me.
I. Will. Not. Break!
With my gaze fixed on his, I grab the leaden weights, bring them about my shoulders, and watch the satisfaction fill his eyes. He grabs at me and I take satisfaction in knowing I’m limp in his hand. I have never been hard for this man.
He wants to punish my lack of submitting, my lack of commitment to him. I can see the ferocity in his eyes. A storm of wrath rages so deep, I know if I get caught in the winds of his punishment, I’ll be tossed around and battered until I’m nothing but a bloody mass left in the remnants of his vehemence.
Although I know the violence that threatens to push forth from the calm exterior he allows the world to see, I still can’t bring myself to participate in the heinous acts he performs on my body. There is no attraction to him and my body’s lack of response says what I wish I could. Maybe the way for me to win against him is to continue not feeling. There has to be a way to crack his rock hard shell and start the downward spiral to him losing control.
“I see you, lover. See you thinking. This is not a time for thinking. Only feeling.”
My body shudders in protest of his words, but I fear he’ll take it as a sign of arousal. Closing my eyes, I prepare myself for the invasion.
“What are you doing, Grant?”
I open my eyes to his oily orbs staring back at me. He’s not reaching out to touch me and I’m confused. I shrug at him, not understanding what he’s asking.
“We’re not in your bedroom.”
Ah, of course. He always has to take me on my bed. Another sign of his dominance over me.
I walk through my living room, naked, with metal balls hanging around my neck, as he follows me, still fully dressed. In my mind, I question how I missed the bag he brought in with him. I just saw it now as I walked by the couch. Would I have been more on edge knowing he brought weapons of torment with him?
It’s too late to question the “what ifs” now.
“Get on the bed and wait for me. I assume you made sure the sheets are clean for me.”
The arrogance he gives off makes me want to choke—mostly choke him, but breathing for me is difficult, too. I nod or give some subtle response to his question because he murmurs a favorable
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