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She was crying in her room when I left the shower. That was music to my ears. She had to be beaten down before she could be built back up. That's the problem with strength. It can get in the way.
I could tell by where the sound was coming from in her room that she'd freed herself from the duct tape. Also good. She was still fighting. She needed to fight. Me. Herself. Her addiction.
I walked into her room still naked and wet from the shower, pulling on a robe as I entered but leaving it hanging open, framing my cock, which was getting hard again just looking at her. There were tracks of tears on her face. If I ordered her to pull off the sweats she'd put back on, I'd see the hot, angry red of her ass.
I didn't order it.
I ordered her to sit down on the hard-back hard-seat chair I'd used to punish her.
She winced when she did it but she did it.
"I have an offer to make you. Clearly there are some problems with your recovery."
Her lips started to frame a word. Her eyes were so big and dark, the lashes wet with the remnants of her tears. She was going to say It was only Advil.
I didn't give her a chance. "You have some options. Which you choose has everything to do with how much you want to go back to your life, your job, your father, your fiancé." I said that last deliberately, pretty sure already that she didn't want to go back to him. She just wasn't ready to admit it.
The way I was standing, her eyes kept straying to my tumescent dick. There was a hunger there, one I had no intention of feeding yet. I had other ways of taking care of that. If she wanted my cock, she'd have to work for it, and when I gave it to her, I'd hurt her.
I knew what she'd been through. I knew what Jesse Baylor had done to her. I knew what she'd gone back for. I knew she mourned him despite what he'd done.
I knew she wanted her life back, that she was devastated by her own slide into the addiction she was fighting on the streets, and more so, almost definitely, by her growing need to be hurt, to be fucked hard, to be dominated, kept, punished.
For her growing attraction to me.
So I was going to set her free. Or as free as she would think she was. And watch her come back to me of her own accord. Ready to become a sweet submissive.
"Here are your choices," I said, and stated it bluntly.
Submit.
Or go home.
