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I see the wildness in his eyes, the barely restrained lust in his vibrating frame.
I’m not just their kitten, pet, or personal assistant. I’m not a fucking princess or even a queen. I’m a king too, and it’s about time I started playing this game. They won’t save me, protect me, or care about what I want. Neither do the police. I’m a fucking pawn, a plaything for all of them, and when they are done, they will discard me, and only I will be left to pick up the pieces. I’m done living in fear.
It’s time I made my move. I’m playing the long game to protect and free myself, and neither will have a clue.
With my eyes on him, I lift my fingers and suck them clean as he watches.
Once again, I flipped the switch. This was supposed to be embarrassing and degrading, making me into nothing but, well, his little obedient pet, forced to do whatever he pleased. Instead, I flourished, I thrived under it, and now he’s left panting, hard, and filled with his own desire.
So, who really won here?
Hopping off the desk, I pull my dress down and smooth back my hair. “I’ll go get you a fresh coffee…sir,” I taunt, and then grab his still full mug, now holding cold coffee, and saunter from his office, shutting the door after my exit.
A moment later, I hear something launched at it. “Fuck!” he yells.
Checkmate.
