You think you’re a smart cookie, don’t you? You’re not.
Think about the hardest class you took in school. Think about what’s going on in the news and about how you don’t actually understand what it’s all about. Not really. Think about how you’re not doing things that smart people do. Instead, you’re rubbing your pussy to Tumblr porn or checking Instagram.
Rub your ugly, useless cunt and tell yourself you’re stupid. Rub your cunt and edge repeatedly until you have even fewer brains than when you started.
“I’m stupid. I’m stupid. I’m stupid.”
Keep rubbing and keep repeating until you believe it in your heart of hearts.
“I’m stupid. I’m stupid. I’m stupid.”
Don’t cum. You’re too dumb to cum. Dumb bitches don’t cum.
Now put on a short skirt and go ask a Man to explain something to you, idiot.
(Back to our regularly scheduled debauchery. Another Fuckd-Up Fairytale for your perverted enjoyment. NC, drug use, mind break and abduction.)
She shivered in the snow. Ironic, since snow was her very namesake. Her cunt of a jealous step-mother had been arguing with Snow about how her choices were going to ruin her life. Snow didn’t care. She liked school well enough, but lived for the party. Ten years under her roof had been amicable in the beginning, but after years and years of her step-mother’s jealousy and judgements, Snow just straight up stopped caring. When their arguments became screaming matches, Snow gave up and stopped listening. She was a grown woman and would live with the consequences of her own choices.
She packed her car and left.
It took a thousand miles and four states, but when her beat up old car started to shake and thump, Snow knew she had a problem. The old engine quit on her over seventy miles from the nearest sizeable town. No cell phone service complicated matters further. Her friends were all home for the holiday, and Snow had planned to stay with them, but the car was no match for the Rocky Mountains, and died on her in the middle of buttfuck Idaho, just outside the Bitterroot range.
Snow hadn’t packed many clothes, just what she’d brought back from her dorm, so once her car died, Snow was in trouble. She was cold inside ten minutes, shivering by thirty. Her limbs felt leaden from the altitude change. Her options were rapidly dwindling, and Snow realized she had to get to warmer altitudes. She had two choices, stay on the road and hope someone would pick her up and not be the kidnap, rape and murder type, or head off road and find shelter.
When Snow had walked for ninety minutes without seeing a single car, her choice was made for her. She couldn’t trust in hope. She headed offroad. The snow was light and thin between the tall, thick trees, and the temperatures rose slightly, the wind muted by the forest around her. Snow walked and walked, seeing no sign of shelter, or existence of other people.
Hours passed, and Snow fell into a shivering haze, blindly plodding forward through hunger and exhaustion. The sun had long set when Snow saw a warm light in the trees. Stumbling towards it, she found a large house tucked deep in the forest, sheltered in the lee of a nearby cave. Snow’s dad had been wealthy as hell, but this home was impressive even by her standards.
Exhausted and sore, Snow knocked on the door, hoping against hope. No one answered. Desperate, she tried to open it, and was shocked to find the door unlocked. She wandered, calling out, but no one responded. Snow found the kitchen and was unable to resist. Anything that didn’t take time to cook was fair game, and Snow went at it hungrily. Once her gnawing hunger was satisfied, exhaustion slammed into her like a hammer. Snow staggered into the living room and collapsed on the plush sofa. She managed to drag a thick quilt over her, and she was out.
Snow woke to a stiff ache in her shoulders, her entire body weak and throbbing from her outdoor ordeal. She tried to squirm, to relieve the pressure in her shoulders. She felt a faint tugging on her wrists, and her semiconscious mind dimly noted to clink and rattle of metal. Snow groaned, but awareness of the muted noise filtered into her mind and the dull throb of her jaw together brought Snow around. Her eyes fluttered open and Snow nearly jumped through the roof.
A group of men stood over her, some dressed in dirty overalls, others in polos and dark jeans, and one in a business suit. Snow tried to jump to her feet, but her sore, aching body refused to listen. She met unexpected resistance at her wrists and ankles, and Snow tumbled, falling back down onto the couch.
Awareness returned in an instant. Snow wriggled, her eyes widening in horror as she saw her ankles were shackled by thick cuffs locked onto her, connected by a thin but strong chain. Her sore shoulders and immobile wrists told a similar story. Snow’s supple tongue pushed against the rubbery gag jammed in her teeth, but the offending object stubbornly resisted her, heavy straps winding around her head keeping it in place.
One of the men yanked on a chain, and Snow choked, her eyes bulging as she was dragged upwards, till her feet scrabbled on the floor. The chain loosened, and she gasped for air, forced to breathe through her nose. Before she could react, it was padlocked to a ring set into the wall.
Without warning, the men grabbed her and pinned her between them. A heavy hand covered her eyes, and Snow let out a muffled scream. Arms that were wrapped around her torso tightened, preventing her from drawing another breath. She tried to kick and struggle, but she was outnumbered, sore, bound and had no chance. Her strength faded quickly, despite her panic. The hand over her eyes pulled back and down, tilting Snow’s head back. Something was laid across her upper lip. Just as she felt her mind fading into blackness, her struggles reduced to weak spasms, the arms compressing her chest loosened, as if on a signal. Desperate for air, Snow heaved in a deep, heavy breath.
Her sinuses burned and tingled, something powdery on her lip was pulled into her nose along with the air. Hands still gripped her, and Snow gave a weak groan as her mind began to spin. She felt a tickle, like she needed to sneeze, but a warm lassitude washed over her instead.
Soft whispers surrounded her in a language she didn’t understand, and whatever was on her lip lifted away. Snow heard a gentle rasp, and her experience at college clued her in to the sound. Paper being rolled tightly. Before she could react, the tip slid back under her nose, just as she took another breath. A warm puff of air through the paper sent another burst of the powder into her sinuses.
Snow coughed weakly, but she felt her body begin to tingle and burn. Her thoughts faded into glimmering flashes of light and sparkling stars. Her body ached, and she felt familiar cravings roar to life deep inside her. The hands on her body began to move, some still restraining, some stroking, some squeezing as the sounds of throaty, predatory laughter echoed in her ears.
Snow shivered as one hand slid into her top and groped her breast, dragging a groan from her as the world spun and whirled around her. Hands squeezed her tight ass, sculpted by hours in the gym, and a thick finger traced along her lower lips, feeling the gathered moisture, evidence of the drugs effectiveness in getting her body to betray her.
Before Snow’s foggy, drugged mind could even comprehend what was about to happen, hands spun her around, pinning her face to the wall as her flimsy panties were torn away. Rigid thickness plunged into her dripping pussy and Snow let out a soft wail of pleasure, muffled by the gag. Time lost all meaning to her, and she sank beneath the battering waves of drugged sensation.
Snow woke slowly, her body aching and sore, her head throbbing. Snippets of memory flashed through her mind as she struggled to claw back to awareness. Scenes of debauchery and lust shook Snow to her core as her memory returned in flashes and momentary glimpses. Snow pinned against the wall as she came, the third cock of the evening spraying warmth into her womb. Snow on her hands and knees, cuffed to the floor as she bounced forward and back, propelled by the punishing, battering cocks savaging her mouth and overflowing pussy. Snow suspended from the ceiling by her wrists as she screamed in pleasure and pain, throbbing shafts reaming her lower holes, front and back. Snow kneeling, her tits and face coated in layers of cum, watching herself in the nearby mirror as she stroked and sucked the array of cocks demanding her attention. Snow begging the men to fuck her again, use her hard, as she spread herself open for them, pearly fluid leaking from her holes and dripping off her chin.
Snow opened her eyes, and looked down, seeing the crusty, flaking remnants of cum glazing her body. She rolled to her side and nausea slammed into her, her stomach heaving, emptying what seemed like gallons of white onto the wooden floor. Snow squealed as a hand gripped her hair and yanked her head up, before she could do more than grab at the hand, a hard plastic syringe was jammed up her nose. Callused fingers pushed the plunger and Snow’s eyes watered, the thick, gooey liquid squirting into her nostril. She coughed and gagged, but the liquid tingled and burned, numbing her as the new drugs seeped into her bloodstream and dripped down the back of her ravaged throat.
Snow felt her strength fading away, and her arms grew heavier and heavier, until lifting them was like juggling anvils. Her wrists hit the floor with dull, echoing thumps, and the pain in her scalp from the hand in her hair seemed to be hazy and ephemeral, like a faint echo off a mountainside. The hand dragged her limp body across the floor, leaving trails of white slime behind her. The door opened and Snow closed her eyes as bright light assailed her. The throbbing in her head washed over her, and Snow descended into blackness.
Her eyes opened again, and Snow had no idea how much time had passed. Her wrists ached, but she could feel warm sunlight on her skin, and the chill from the fading remnants of the snow on the ground failed to bother her. Glassy and dazed, Snow looked around, seeing nothing but trees, an unseasonably warm day had already melted all but a few tiny traces of the show.
She worked her way to her feet, realizing belatedly that her skin was clean and clear of any evidence from the night before. Her wrists were cuffed around the trunk of a tree, and she had been redressed. It took a moment, but Snow blinked in drugged surprise when she saw she was wearing some of her own clothes. The men must have found her car and ransacked her belongings. A noise from behind her made Snow jump, and she turned, opening her mouth to scream. A hand grabbed her jaw, and a meaty finger shoved a thick pill down her throat. Snow coughed and gagged, but it went down anyway. Snow recognized the man behind her from brief flashes of memory. She feared this one. His hands had been cruel, his cock merciless, and her tears had only prompted him to use her harder. Snow whimpered in terror as she realized why he had isolated her. His cruel grin grew as she heard the hissing zip of a belt pulling free.
He didn’t want anyone else to hear her screams.
Snow woke the next day, her throat and ass raw from her screaming and his brutality. A shadow loomed over her, and Snow had no strength to resist as a needle slid into her arm. Cool relief flooded her bloodstream, and Snow moaned as the world began to float on the softest cotton river. Hands lifted her and carried her, setting her down on silk sheets. Snow writhed as the sensation of the coolness in her blood and on her skin competed with the heat she felt building inside her. She looked up at her companion, seeing for the first time that it wasn’t the sadist. This one wore thin rimmed glasses, and had a caring, almost paternal, yet academic look to him.
He slid the dirty, sweat stained clothes from her skin before gently massaging ointment onto her welts and bruises. Snow opened her mouth and she tasted fruit as he fed her. Cool water was bliss to her ravaged throat, and Snow nearly wept for his kindness. The lingerie slid onto her body, and the needle dove back into her arm, keeping Snow afloat in gentle relaxation.
His hands groped her chest, and Snow leaned into him, her fingers seeking the treasure hidden beneath his clothing. Her own heated need grew as he played with her body, and Snow knew exactly how to repay his kindness. She fished his burgeoning thickness from below his belt and turned, her eyes full of promise as she gently led him around the desk, staggering beneath the weight of the cotton fog in her mind.
She gently led him to the chair and sat him down before slipping beneath the ornate desk itself. Snow giggled in delight as the chair slid forward, trapping her in the tiny space. Her fingers traced lines on her own flat stomach, dancing lower as she opened her soft, full lips. She gave him a soft, gentle lick full of promise and slid her hand into her own panties. He had fed her once, but Snow wanted dessert. After, he stood her up and spent a long time just groping her, before bending her over the desk and grabbing a bottle of lube. He spent hours slowly reaming out her ass as Snow moaned and writhed.
Each one of the men had their turn with her. They all had their own fetishes and drugs of choice. Their language was some kind of European gobbledygook, but Snow eventually learned a few words, despite the drugged fog she spent every moment of every day lost in. She learned how to say ‘please’ and 'more’. She eventually understood when they told her to 'strip’ or 'kneel’. 'Suck’ and 'beg’ were commonly used as well.
They never used anything she was able to discern as names, so Snow just made names up for them. The one who liked to give her pills and pain, she called 'Angry’. The one that liked the needles and her willing submission became 'Professor’.
'Doper’ always insisted on getting blazed, keeping her in a small room as he smoked joint after joint. He liked cuffing her wrists and making her wear a ring gag while he kept her face buried in his groin.
'Shy’ liked to blow powder up her nose. He never spoke, and always seemed to blush whenever she saw the fat meat rising from between his legs. He had a big collection of toys, and would always make Snow pick five or six for him to use on her. Snow always ended up passed out from exhaustion after enduring dozens of nonstop orgasms.
'Chuckles’ would make Snow dress in tight, hot leather, keeping her bound and collared. He would take his time fucking her, pouring his cum into her as he mocked and laughed at her. He kept a big bowl of dried mushrooms in his room, and would always make her eat a few before getting started on her. Snow would watch in dazed fascination as cartoon characters and sexy monsters fucked like pornstars in front of her while her mouth and pussy were plundered.
'Napper’ liked to watch her struggle, putting little pieces of chemical soaked paper in her mouth. He’d take his time, tying her up into intricate, inescapable bondage. She was kept plugged and stuffed as he sat nearby, using remote controls to edge her for hours and hours, sometimes dozing as she whined and squirmed helplessly. He would always torment her, making her whine and beg the entire time, before sending her careening into massive, mind melting orgasms while he watched and jerked himself off. When she was exhausted beyond the point of struggling, he would saunter over and use her limp, unresisting body.
'Wheezy’ would make Snow crawl and bark, keeping her gagged with a 'bone’ bit-gag. He would rub some kind of cream onto her chest and his. He always ended up breathing hard, but Snow just felt overwhelming heat. It melted her mind, making her pussy drip with desperate need until he mounted her, fucking her ass or pussy like she was his bitch.
It was an unending cycle. Angry would punish and pound her on the first day. Then Professor had his day for her to relax and submit. After that, Doper used his turn to use her in a weed induced haze. When Snow woke, Shy was waiting to make her choose the tools he’d use to overwhelm her. Chuckles would be ready the next day with her mushroom breakfast and cum chaser. Napper would claim her the following day, keeping her trapped in delicious erotic torment. Finally, Wheezy would collar his little bitch and make her crawl for him, until he gave her the bone his oils made her so desperate for. The next day, the cycle would start all over again.
Every night, Snow would be left alone, collared and tied to sleep off the day’s drugs and recover from the abuse. Snow broke under the unceasing pressure of their lust and the constant highs and lows from the inexhaustible supply of drugs they had stashed away.
It only took two months for Snow’s sanity to shatter completely. But rather than being reduced to an unresponsive husk, Snow’s mind split. Angry was delighted when Snow’s screams echoed through the trees, her pussy flooding more with every stroke of the cane or belt. Professor praised her when Snow knelt for him, eagerly accepting his gentle domination.
Doper laughed when she would snag the joint and blaze up on her own before diving down on his cock. He thought it was hilarious when she exhaled smoke puffs out of her nose while stuffing him in her throat. Shy was enchanted when Snow began to eagerly add more and more toys to the day’s pile of implements. She would beg and plead with him, using every trick she knew to get him to play with her and his toys.
Chuckles had to ration her mushrooms, keeping Snow from eating too many. She would dive into the tight leather and beg him to fuck her hard as her vision danced with fairies and cartoon maidens getting ravaged and pounded by overmuscled monsters and demons.
Snow learned how to sigh and squeal, constantly moaning and gasping as Napper dozed, giving him pleasant, erotic dreams before he woke up and used her limp, weary body as a fleshlight.
Wheezy loved when he got time with his little puppy-girl. Snow would bark and yip, stuffing her nose into his crotch before whining and pawing at his pants. When he stripped down, Snow would howl with delight, spinning around and shaking her ass at him in invitation.
Every cycle imprinted her new personalities deeper, ripping her mind apart at the seams. Entirely different people began to emerge, each with different kinks and delights, each one submissive in it’s own way. Each one desperate to please the Master of the day.
Snow had disappeared from the world and was never seen again.
Held captive, drugged and abused daily, Snow soon ceased to exist, her mind pulled apart and split into pieces. From those pieces were born the seven whores.
Like any good fucktoy you love edging, but when you start it is difficult to stop yourself from cumming like a selfish slut. Sure, sluts are fun, men love sluts, but sluts are only interested in cock because cocks please them. Sluts are selfish, and that’s one of the reasons most women don’t have what it takes to become a fucktoy.
But you don’t want to be just another slut do you, you want to be different, you want to be better, you want to become a fucktoy.
Fucktoys aren’t selfish, fucktoys want cocks but they want them because they want to please Men. Fucktoys know that’s why they exist, to give pleasure to others, and to be used by others, not to give pleasure to themselves. Your pleasure comes form serving.
It’s not easy though, but edging is vital for any fucktoy, as you need to keep your fuckhole wet and desperate, and you brain muddled and thinking of nothing but cocks.
Being a desperate dripping horny fucktoy who can think of nothing but cocks will mean that not only are you happy for Men to do whatever they want to you, but it will also help you approach men you wouldn’t normally approach, to go up to that guy in the bar and ask him if he wants a BJ, rather than just smiling at him now and again or fluttering your eyelashes in the hope he will come over and offer to buy you a drink.
And the more men you offer yourself to the more fun you will get pleasing them.
Or, if you are lucky enough to be owned, your soaking aching cunt will make you more accepting when He tells his friends that, just like they can eat from his fridge, drink his beer and watch his TV, they are free to use you if they need to empty their balls.
After all that’s all you are isn’t it? You are just another household appliance He owns to make His life nicer. He doesn’t own a washing machine because He wants to watch sport with it, He owns it because it makes cleaning His clothes easier and more practical.
He doesn’t own a toaster because he wants to listen to its thoughts or have a conversation with it. He owns it because it’s easier to toast bread in a toaster than it is to stick it on toasting fork and sit in front of an open fire.
So what’s the answer to edging without cumming?
The answer is to give yourself some motivation.
So pick something you want to save up for. A new princess plug, a new dress, or a new pair of shoes. And everyday that you successfully edge without cumming, put a £1 in a jar. For everyday you cum without a mans permission, take a £1 out of the jar.
The sooner you learn to be a good fucktoy, the sooner you get your new shoes.
I know it is hard. Friends, parents, and teachers tell you to have self-respect, get a good job, and find a good man. But all you want to do is rub, get pumped and turn into a porn dollie.
While your friends want to get married or get a good job, you want to be a wicked old man to turn you into a sex worker. You want your life to be a blur of sexual degradation.
I am here to say that your ambitions are just as valid as those others. I am here to say that, with the right group of friends and the right people around you, you can reach your dreams. I am here to tell you to go for it with all your heart and soul.
heyyyy cuties! Worried you’re coming off too smart? Wanna make that next step into the dumb slut lifestyle? Piggy is here 2 help!!
dumb urself down.
Boys don’t care how smart you are, and if they do, they’re not the kind of boy u wanna be with. dumbing urself down looks like….
thinking b4 u speak to check if its something a man wants to hear
using shorter words on purpose
practice dummy talk like a baby, making noises instead of words. All boys hear when you talk is noises anyway!
write stuff like it’s 2012. B4, u, omg. U come across dumb af and it’s cute to boot!
practice looking dumb in a mirror. Boys wanna know that ur listening without understanding. Open ur mouth slightly, look down a little, open your eyes wide and make eye contact. A lil drool doesn’t hurt either!
in public
idc if u work a job that means u can’t dress slutty or u don’t have enough money to get cute pink bimbo outfits. Bimbo is a state of mind and if ur doing it right people will know you’re a free use slut.
walk with a sway in ur hips. Practice. Now. Again. You wanna walk like you’ve just been fucked
be sweet and friendly to EVERY man u meet, cashiers, bartenders, bus drivers. Give them a smile that makes them KNOW you’re dreaming about their cock
laugh at men’s jokes. Especially the gross ones. Practice ur giggle.
always bend at the hip to pick stuff up. Squatting no longer exists for u unless its in front of a man’s dick
You’re. Not. A person. Ur a canvas for the next man to paint his ideal of a girl against. Every man u meet should be treated this way. Yes, even him.
at home
This is probably EVEN more important than what u do when ur out bc then it becomes ur standard, ur norm.
edge. Now. Always. Your pleasure does not exist unless it exists for a man. Be dripping and wet and desperate always!! Touching your cunt is a privilege!
normalise being naked when ur home alone. This will a) make u more confident believe me and b) make u start seeing urself as something less than human. Humans get clothes. Bimbos get what daddy says.
keep yourself tidy. Shave, exfoliate, skincare. While you do, remind yourself ur doing this for a man u haven’t even met. That’s how important men are.
Some final mantras:
brains are for boys, my thoughts are just noise
I am three holes and none of them are for talking with
little reminder that your body type has nothing to do with being a bimbo. As hot as the big fake tits and skinny waist are, bimbo is a lifestyle and a state of being. Don’t torture yourself for not being societies norm of a “hot girl”. If you’re submitting you’re doing it right. Unfollow me if you’re mad about it.
You’re at your desk when you get an email. You see the subject line “mine”. Curious you open it and find a cryptic message.
“Blouse and blue jeans. Not acceptable for a sub. Tomorrow it’s a dress. Reply that you understand”.
You have no idea who sent it. You don’t recognize the email. Everything in you wonders who could possibly know your thoughts, your fantasies, who knows what you want to try.
You go home that night wondering, thinking how crazy that was. You wake up and get dressed. You aren’t even thinking about it until you sit to eat your breakfast but you look and you have a dress on. Your heart races. “Did I do this on purpose?” You think you yourself. “Should I change? He can’t tell me what to wear”. You decide not to change and go into work as normal.
When you arrive at your desk there’s a box. Two words written on it. One simple question. “GOOD GIRL?”
You feel your chest rising. You feel a tingle all over your body. You sit down at your desk and debate whether or not to open it. You finally decide to peek inside. Your eyes widen as you see a remote vibrator sitting there. You quickly close the box before anyone sees.
You check your email and see a new one from the same address. The subject line says “Did you open the box?”. You open the email and the mysterious stranger has written “Prove to me you want this. At 10:00AM go to the restroom and slide the toy inside you. Turn it on. Return to your desk as normal. You can do this”
Can you really do this? Who is doing this? How does he know all of this? Your mind won’t stop. Everything in you should be saying stop but it’s not. You find yourself intoxicated by it, turned on, and you go to the bathroom at 10 and slide the toy in your pussy. You’re already soaked from the thought. You turn it on and head back to your desk. Even on the walk back you’re paranoid people will notice you walk funny. You also wonder who could be doing this, did you just pass them in the hall? Who knows.
Just as you sit back down you feel it, a low vibration inside you. Not strong, just enough to tell you he’s been waiting for you to sit. A gasp spills out of your mouth, your breath quickens, you sit up a little straighter and you just let go. Everything you’ve thought about, being someone’s toy, your pussy being used to please, your body being a canvas of pleasure at a Doms will, it seems to be starting right here at work.
The toy stops vibrating. All you had was the small low vibration and now it stops. You instinctively look around, not sure what you’re looking for, is someone watching you? You stand up, and just as you do it hits you. Full speed vibration. It takes your breath, you moan really loud and quickly catch yourself.
Just as you sit another email appears. “Don’t stand up again, you be a good little slut and just let it happen”.
The vibrations star pulsating, low to high in rapid succession. It almost feels like someone pounding a cock in and out of you rapidly. Your breath is short and fast, you can feel yourself blushing. Lip biting isn’t helping. Your hands grab your desk and hold on for a minute while your body tries to adjust to the huge vibrations.
As you’re sitting, trying to handle paperwork the vibration assault continues to work harder and softer in changing patterns. You hear a voice beside you and quickly look up. You wonder how long they’ve been there, did they notice you gripping the desk and moaning? The coworker reminds you there’s a staff meeting and it’s time to go. Now you’re really nervous. What do you do? You decide to walk to the staff room for the meeting. As you get up to walk the vibration locks on full power. Your knees go weak. You are smiling and you aren’t sure why. You manage to walk and find your seat at the table. You sit up straight and hope no one hears it. You’re a wet throbbing mess between your legs and you feel like you could cum at any given moment. It starts pulsating again. Slowly up and down. If feels so good you want to moan and scream out but you can’t.
The meeting starts and you aren’t listening at all. All you have are feelings building Inside you. Your pussy is aching, your muscles are twitching. You feel vibrations from your belly to your thighs. You also know you’re dripping wet, more excited than you’ve ever felt in your entire life and you can’t make a single sound. Your mind is going in a thousand directions when suddenly you hear your name. It’s a coworker from HR. He looks at you and grins. You wonder why he’s smiling.
He says “I’ll repeat the question because you seem to be lost over there in your own world. Are you going to come? If you’re going to come you need to tell me”
His smile, his eyes, you immediately know that whatever he’s asking has double meaning. You ask “I’m sorry, what am I coming to??”
He nods and says “The new payroll system is coming in and I need you in my office for training every afternoon, can you do that for me? Can you come?”
You smile and say “Yes Sir I’m coming”
You let it go. Your body tightens, your pussy goes crazy and your thighs feel like they are shaking off of your body. You quietly cum sitting in your chair. You’ve Never cum this strongly and somehow you manage not to make a sound. You know your face is red but at this point you don’t care. You sit like a good girl and you just feel wave after wave hit you.
The meeting adjourns, you can’t move. Your legs are weak. As everyone is walking out he stalls for a moment and picks up his phone. He pushes on the screen and the vibrations stop. He looks at you and smiles an evil smile. He walks by, touches your shoulder briefly and says quietly “I knew you were a good girl. I’ll see you this afternoon”.
