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“I was. Yes. Asshole.” I cranked out a smile. I could defy him, though it took effort.
Maybe his power had waned.
One could hope.
“Climb over the railing and come inside, little robot girl.”
No. Don’t.
My thought switch flipped from no to yes, and I remembered that exact feeling from the first time, and was dismayed at how this replayed.
Yes. Oh yes.
Exactly like an obedient robot, I climbed over. I stood before him when he sat in a chair placed in the center of my room. On my rug. His weight pressed the chair legs into the softness.
If I didn’t look at him, maybe he’d go away.
The hard outline of the rifle lay to the side, hinting at my recent deadly intentions.
I could smell his thoughts, feel them in me, purring. Lucky he couldn’t read all mine.
And I quivered – fear, the unknown, my stupidity in coming here, though what else could I have done?
What...
>
Else...
As if I’d ever have stayed away and done nothing.
Some situations have that flash of comprehension where you see what should’ve been in your face from the start.
I should’ve known how weak my situation would be.
Should’ve seen he would find me. I knew his powers.
This was how it would always have been. It was inevitable.
Swallow your doubts. The battle hasn’t ended. I needed to figure out how to skew this my way.
“What am I going to do with you?”
The rumbling growl underpinning his voice hardened my nipples and awakened between my legs for the first time in three years.
“What...am I...” His finger touched my midriff over the silken negligee, precisely where my navel dwelled, and dug in. “Going to do.” He pushed. I swayed. “With you.”
That finger. The pressure.
Not a question.
My cunt liquefied with heat.
Shameful.
I strived to still my trembling legs.
With his forefinger, he beckoned me closer, until I had to spread my legs to navigate him, until I was poised over his lap where his cock bulged his pants. My negligee had ridden up my legs until it barely covered my black panties.
