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Good Girl Jenny loses her clothes in a donut shop.

The color scheme was neutral grays and blacks, with a few accessories in red or some other complementary tone. The floors were a dark wood throughout. By the view, I could deduce that we had to be in Boston somewhere.

Wow, that really narrows it down. I thought to myself stupidly.

Suddenly, I felt his firm figure pressed behind me. He lowered his head and spoke softly into my ear. "You will go make the bed that you ruined last night."

I jumped in surprise and then nearly ran into the bedroom, pulling the covers back up. I smoothed them carefully, trying to make it perfect, ignoring the ropes that still dangled from the headboard and foot. I was afraid to leave for fear of having done it wrong.

I stepped slowly back out into the open floor plan of the main area of the apartment. I didn't know what to do with myself so I just stood there.

"Are you cold?"

I wondered at how he asked such a question without sounding at all concerned for my welfare.

"No." I said, almost inaudibly.

"No..." He repeated, stepping closer to me. "Then why are you shivering?"

"I...I'm...afraid, Sir." My shaking increased, tears began to well.

"You shouldn't be afraid. I will not kill you. I will not harm you, unless, that is, you need to be disciplined. In that case, still, you won't be harmed permanently."

"But...I can't stay here." My voice was tinged with desperation and the sobbing of my inhaled breaths.

"You will stay here. This is what you want."

In that moment it almost made sense to me why I hadn't run when I'd had the chance. I knew why I hadn't called for help. I wanted to be dominated. I'd masturbated to these thoughts for years, terribly ashamed and secretive about my desire to submit. I'd thought of little in my limited sexual endeavors but finding a man who would tell me, not ask me. I'd dreamt of little more than being bound, gagged, fucked, and given a list of chores in the morning. I wanted to be treated like a woman. No, not the type of women I'd been raised as, self-dependent, strong. No, I was the woman of meekness, obedience, and submission.

As obvious as it was, I still couldn't accept it. I couldn't deal with the shame of everyone around me if they knew my secrets. I couldn't deal with my own guilt. My life was supposed to be different.

"You have to let me go!" I said this louder. I was on the verge of begging. I couldn't sit by and watch the life my parents had built for me be wasted. Why did it feel like there was a part of me simultaneously begging for him to make me stay?

"No I don't. You will not ask me to again." His eyes became hard and removed. I was scared.

"Please."

He raised his hand and slapped my face. He didn't do it very hard but I was already wound up and it sent me tumbling to the floor. I was laying in a pool of my own tears and sweat. He had walked away but now was back. He stuck a ball gag into my mouth as I tried to gasp for breath. I continued sobbing, choking myself, needing oxygen but unable to breathe.

He picked me up and put his face right in front of mine. Our noses were centimeters away from touching. "When I tell you no, it means no."

He left me laying there, crying uncontrollably. Uncontrollable. That's how my life felt at this point. I was gone. Reality didn't exist any more. I cried and shook until my energy was drained and I laid limp and resigned on the floor.

When I'd been silent for a while, Sir came back over to me and took off the gag. I inhaled a full breath thankfully. "Good girl. Now, I want you to relax and lay on the couch."

I wobbled to the couch and relaxed. Surprisingly easy after such a hard cry. He spun me over so that my upper body was over his lap and I felt his hands rubbing into my skin. It wasn't like last night, when he'd barely tickled me. This time he was kneading the tension from my body. I laid in resignation. I couldn't deny the comfort he brought me.

Awhile later when I was dangling by a thread from consciousness, I felt his lips brushing against my

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