Eric still couldn't sleep, but the cause was different now. For the first time since he could remember, Eric felt excited at what the next morning brought. *** Eric's eyes opened in the darkness. That dream, that memory, still lingers. He suddenly felt like a little boy again, afraid of the dark, afraid of the unknown, and alone. It's strange how a dream can be so real. It can control a person's mind and arouse emotions, so much so that it affects the body. Eric felt a lump in his throat; he shouldn't be there, he hasn't been that scared boy for a long time, and yet he's still here. His heart was pounding in his chest and his palms were sweaty. He told himself over and over again that it was all a dream, but the emotions clung to him like molasses. No matter how hard he tried to wipe them out of his thoughts, they were still there, shifting from side to side of his mind, wobbling between the joy of experiencing acceptance for the first time and the pain of knowing about the future.
“Fuck…” An obscenity louder than a whisper came from the other side of the door when I put my ear to it. “Oh…yes baby” followed by a sentence in another language, followed by “open your 'girl'.” I almost fell on the door when my knees went limp. Between my legs, I felt a soft beat, in tune with my heart. Please, please don't be in a relationship with someone else. I can hear the exhaust fan running, maybe that's why he feels safe making that sound. If I hadn't woken up, I probably wouldn't have heard him. Forcing myself to be brave, I pushed the latch to open the door. I squeeze it until sweat seeps out between my fingers. The shower was on the left side of the door, and I was worried I wouldn't be able to see anything if I didn't open the door all the way and get caught, but there was a mirror on the right side, so I could see the image. his reflection. I can only pray that he won't look directly at the door or the mirror. The door opened, just a little, just enough to slip a finge
I leaned back and pressed my palms to my feminine spot, rubbing in small circles, but was afraid I wouldn't be able to get myself where I wanted to be fast enough. I don't want to get lost in pleasure. I want to see Eric. I want to see you on top. That thought made me press harder, the rotations became smaller, tighter, and faster. I felt a shiver in my stomach, then a warm stream spread from my spine to my extremities until finally, I felt my 'little girl' squeeze and release, then squeeze again. Again. I let out a tiny moan before I pursed my lips and bit down hard to block out other sounds. That hardly satisfied me. It was a tiny sneeze compared to how Eric had gotten me to the top, but just enough to force my attention back to Eric. Eric's hips were moving faster, his glutes rising and falling as he put all his strength into reaching orgasm. He leaned forward, resting his forehead on his forearm while gritting his teeth and pushing the giant thing he called 'boy' back and forth i
Eric clenched his jaw so hard he could hear the thud of a tire. “It will be fine, Raymond. I can do it,” he forced out. “Don't bother me anymore. I know what I need to do. That's all I can think of.” “What about the hostages you took? What are you going to do with them?” "Revenge. Normal." Raymond laughed, "There you are, Khoya. I'm already starting to worry. Try to stay sane this time, from what I've heard, they might be useful to us." A strange feeling spread in Eric's chest, "Where are you?" "Very near." "Fine. I suppose I will see you soon.” He hung up, feeling annoyed. Kitten stepped out of the bathroom, looking a little lost. Last night had put them in a different relationship, and now Eric would be the one to maintain the status quo he had created between them before. He put the phone on the table and walked over to his prisoner. She was motionless as he approached, her eyes fixed on the floor and her hands clasped in front of her. Her fear was obvious, but it was also v
Day 9: Dr. Sloan didn't ask why I was crying, and I assumed it was because she realized she understood. She'd rather ask me. “I know what you're thinking,” I say, but it sounds more like an accusation. Dr. Sloan cleared his throat, "What am I thinking?" "That Eric was terrible, that he was so cruel and that I was stupid to love him." She shook her head, somewhat mockingly, and replied in a way that I found very simple. "I don't think you're stupid at all. If I had to say, I think you're extremely brave." I mocked. “That's right. I am courageous. Kudo said the same thing.” There was a clatter of pen as she wrote a few more notes, “So now you have a different opinion. Don't you think your actions are courageous?" "Not much. I think I just do what needs to be done. Eric always said that one needs to do what it takes to survive. Survival is the most important thing.” "Don't you think it's brave to survive?" "I do not know. Do you think the man who cut off his arm, because it was
Johnny tried hard to stay focused on the computer screen in front of him, but as he typed, his mind couldn't resist the wandering thoughts. Yena Ruiz is definitely suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, as she continues to wilt because of her lost lover, who kidnapped and tortured her. Johnny didn't care about his tormentors - not even one bit. All of them are the same. His mother once tried to apologize for hitting him by taking him to the park. The best tormentors can make us believe they feel guilty for what they've done, until we get in their way. But it would be a lie not to admit, at least to himself, that Yena's storytelling ability is quite…attractive. For four hours, he'd listened to her talk about her relationship with Eric, and watched her cheeks change color, her skin pink from what he knew to be agitation. How can you not be affected? Yes, he had an erection, it was painful, but he didn't like it. What kind of person gets "in the mood" to hear a victim talk about being abus
Johnny looked at his watch and decided to order dinner before his favorite Chinese restaurant closed for the night. He almost drooled at the thought of garlic noodles and crispy scrambled eggs. There was a time when he called in two parts, but it's been almost a year since he has a partner to share long hours of investigation; These days, he works alone. That's fine, because he's not very good at people. You're too frank and people don't appreciate it. He's good at his job and people respect him, but that doesn't mean they're willing to take the chance to work with him, or hang out after work. But they still did what he asked, so there was nothing to complain about. If you ask one of the analysts in the back to help you with some research, they will still resentfully follow through and hold all the blame until they get to work with a better team. . Johnny has requested a task force to assist in this case. It is very likely that there will be an unexpected change of scenery and the p
Eric couldn't sleep. He did everything he could think of, he took a hot bath, indulged himself, sat in Raymond's library and looked through his books. He couldn't read, but there were some books with pictures in them. He walked around the house and rummaged through the snacks in the fridge. He had finished his gulab jamun and even now, his fingers and the corners of his mouth were still sticky. He still couldn't sleep. Where is Raymond, he wondered? His heart began to speed up at the thought of the elderly man. What if he doesn't come back? What if something happened to you? Eric's stomach hurt. He was never alone before. There was always someone near him, if it wasn't for the boys then Narweh, if it wasn't for the guy, maybe a regular customer. Eric got up and pushed all the blankets and pillows on the floor, his bed was too soft. He lay on the thick carpet and curled up in the blanket provided. Outside, the wind is howling. Why did Raymond leave him alone? He pulled his knees to h