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But that’d be too kind. That bastard deserves to pay.
Later…
I frown. The bitch expects an orgasm.
This isn’t a fucking relationship. Not in the traditional sense. She’s not going to get my hoodie, there’s no mixed tape, and I’m certainly not going to go to the fucking store to buy her menstrual products.
Though, I guess with our arrangement it’s my job to supply those, but that’s beside the point.
I wish I had a vibrator to give her. It’s the loosest definition of ‘giving her an orgasm.’
I’ll fucking jack her off this once, and after that, I’ll never have to flick her damn bean again. Heck, with how much I’m sure she’ll hate the inspection, she might decide to rescind the requirement.
The door to the bathroom creaks open, and the Little Lamb steps out.
“I told you not to redress,” I say in a voice that tells her never to disobey me again.
But she doesn’t hear me. Her face goes paper white. It takes me a moment to realize what she’s looking at.
She points a shaky finger up at the chains. “What the fuck are those?”
