I shrug, and he sets the rag down. “Chanel, don’t fucking ask me shit like that. You know I care about you.” We stare at each other for a moment... “More than Nicole?” I ask cautiously with a grave expression. I know I wasn’t hallucinating when he let her leave bleeding. He takes a deep breath and looks away from my face picking up the rag again. “I’m not gonna hold her here and wipe her face when this was her fucking fault in the first place,” he says, and my eyes find his chest again. Though. She never begged enough for it. She thought that keeping it was making her special.She wore that buttplug for 2 days straight. In work or in bed. It was small, manageable she thought. But time is always a cruel mistress. After the first day she couldn't concentrate at work; and she has to. She couldn't keep her mind away from what was going to happen to her after those 2 days. So her asshole was becoming more and more stiff, more and more contracted; her asshole, her pride that made her better. More

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