looked like hell, but never let me wallow in my pity, telling me over and over not to be a pussy, the whiny kind of pussy that always looked disappointed.
He snatched my phone , giving me numbers to women who liked being dominated. Then, he patted my back and told me to get back on the horse…or some shit. His words mixing with my beer somehow made sense. He gave me three numbers and didn’t put names next to them, instead labeling them with blonde, brunette, and redhead.
An agonizing week went by , a week filled with cyber stalking…cyber frickin’ stalking. Katarina had already moved on. I saw pictures of her with another man, a Thomas Holtin; he looked like an arrogant ass-wipe. A couple pictures showed her fleeing from her bodyguard, the message under the pictures “poor little rich girl”. Agony was the best way to describe what I felt. She was elegant and polished, and the sight of her was achingly torturous, but I couldn’t help myself. I became more isolated, leaving work and hiding out at home. I couldn’t stand my own skin. The gym was a good outlet, but it was never enough. I fucking hated people, including myself. I called one of the girls Alex put in my phone under ‘Blonde’ at lunch, and she agreed to meet me at my house for dinner.
I set up the guestroom upstairs as my new playroom. I attached the straps to the bed and set my tools and toys on the floor right next to the bed. I was ready, and the idea of tying a woman to my bed sounded more appealing than ever.
She introduced herself as Sadie , and sauntered into my house in red heels and a dress that was more like an ace bandage rolled over her luscious sweet spots. Sadie had a body that could light a teenage boy on fire. She turned after she entered, her heels clicked on the hardwood floor. She started to talk about my house, and I decided I hated her voice.
“No more talking ,” I said, my authority rising to the surface. A bright red blush rushed to the skin of her cheeks and she shut up. “I want this to work.” Her brown eyes met mine and she nodded slowly. “No shoes in the house.” She slipped her shoes off and left them in the center of the room, irritation consuming me. I ran my hands through my hair and then gripped her upper arm, taking her upstairs to my new playroom. The rest was fluid motion; she did what I asked or told her to do, and I repaid her with multiple touches to her sensitive parts.
The straps were secure d and the blindfold in place within seconds. It was easy—sex, fucking, touching—all of it easy. I rewarded her with an orgasm after the first round of foreplay, yelling at her to fucking come on my hand and she did. It was my new thing, verbal, on-command orgasms. Sadie would be a fine addition to my house. She came like a champ. I played more, treating her body like the sexual object it was, keeping her floating in the cloud right before the climax. I liked to keep her there; it showed the control I was lacking for days…weeks. My cock enjoyed the sights and sounds of my new plaything, and he was ready to play his part in this interviewing process. Fuck…fuck…fuck. I searched the room; I remembered everything…everything except my shield. How was I supposed to save the day without my shield? She must have sensed me stepping away. Her loud moans of complaint echoed around me, frickin’ best sound of my day.
“I need a condom , sweetness. I’ll be right back,” I said through my heavy breathing as I left the room and headed down the hall to my bedroom. I staggered to the nightstand, searching for a condom. It was time for me to forget the past and focus on the now. I fumbled with the handle of the drawer, my mind swirling with reasons why I needed to get the hell out of this room. My hand shook when I finally jerked the drawer open, and the contents scattered everywhere. The small drawer flung off its hinges and turned over in my hand.
Irritation consumed me , and I tossed the empty drawer over the
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