“Fucking say it,” I whispered, looking her in the eyes, holding her throat.
Her face was going red. The vein in her forehead was starting to bulge. She was being stubborn. She needed to do what she was told. She asked for this, literally. She asked me to get her to say things she couldn’t. She wanted to talk dirty to me. She wanted to have trust that I wouldn’t judge. She asked me to force her.
She was silent. I had to make a call. I eased the pressure off her throat and watched the colour of her face return to normal. She needed to be protected from her own stubbornness.
“Are you my girl?” I asked
“Yes, Sir. Only yours.”
“Are you committed to this?”
“Of course!”
I held her gaze.
“Yes, Sir.”
“You need to do as you’re told. You need to meet me beyond your comfort zone,” I whispered.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied.
“Say it.”
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