-Anastasia-
Bruce didn’t bring me back to the pack house. Instead, my own old, run-down place came into view. It perplexed me a little, yet I couldn’t clear my mind enough to focus on the thought. When we reached the doorsteps, I was a panting, wet mess. I tried squeezing my legs together, seeking relief, but if I squirmed, Bruce would smack my ass, telling me to behave. It seemed that only they were allowed to satisfy me now. He didn’t allow for self-gratification, and it made my p*ssy burn by the time we entered the house. He put me down on my feet the moment we entered, yet as I felt the ground beneath me and memories of this place rushed back, I seemed to escape the haze a little. I stared up at Bruce in fear, realizing the complication in our situation.
I realized I couldn’t be here
