The Rejected Pearl

Celia I snuck a look backward, half-expecting someone else to be there. "Wh—what?" The smile slipped from the man's face and his eyes hardened. He pushed his chair backwards with a loud creak, then walked towards me with a slow but steady precision and an air of authority. I looked up to stare into his eyes as I was several inches shorter than he was. I knew I was tall, but this man was way taller. Alexander Hamilton...I'd heard that name being thrown around by my parents a couple of times, times where I'd been privy to their private discussions. They usually metioned the Hamilton name with a mixture of revulsion and fear, as though they had a score to settle with him. I stood there, trembling, in the dimly lit office of the most powerful man in the city. My mind ran amok with equal shock and confusion, unable to fully process the magnitude of the situation that had unfolded on my eighteenth birthday. The guard's arrival at my father's house had torn apart the fragile illusion of

Celia We both stared at each other for an insane amount of time. I'd never noticed just how deep his green eyes was, how it caught the moonlight at a beautiful angle. Suddenly all my problems were pushed to the back of my mind as I looked up at this man whom I hated with every heartbeat. His scent filled my nostrils—the clean scent of rain and an undertone of male cologne—every element of him taking over my common sense. Alexander, the man responsible for my near-tragic encounter, stood before me, his face filled with mild concern. "Are you alright? Did you get hurt?" he asked. I took a moment to compose myself before answering. "I... I'm fine," I muttered, my voice quivering. My whole body was still trembling from the shock, but with his hands around me, the tremors finally subsided. I looked at him, taking in his handsome features, and the anger within me swelled like a tempest. This man had traded me like a simple commodity, had watched me dance half-naked on a stage, and had

Celia I woke up in a strange bedroom and on a strange bed for the first time in my life. I wasn’t fully awake, but I could feel the silky sheet, as opposed to the ridiculously cotton sheets in my room back home. The guest room was huge and luxurious, but it was sparse too, and I got the feeling it wasn’t used very often. All I could smell was him. His scent hung in the air. It was infused into my skin, my towel, my sheets. Scenes from the previous night came back in pieces the more I wake up. ‘I had my bath and was about getting into my night wear when I heard a soft knock on the door. Alexander had come in to talk to me. He kissed me. Then he fell on his knees in front of me and… He pried my legs apart and buried his face in between my thighs, lapping up my juice. My fingers were tangled into his slick hair and his hands gripped my ass as he held me closer to his face licking me up with a punishing pace. More and more of my juices leaked out of me when he twisted his tongu

CeliaAlexander backed me up against the wall of his office. He fisted my hair, forcing me not only to remain in place but also to look into his eyes. He held my gaze, his green eyes flicking back and forth between mine. His eyes were nothing but pools of darkness, a man who had no soul or emotions of any kind.“No one disobeys me and that law you have violated.”“Let me go,” I clawed at his hands to break free from his hold, but it was useless. His grip was too tight on my hair and my face was starting to turn red. “You are hurting me. Please let me go.”“That’s not going to happen. You need to be punished. If you continue to misbehave, I assure you that your discipline will become that harsh.”He brushed his lips across my neck and a disgusting feeling of arousal pooled in every cell. My hardened nipples pressed against the soft material of my dress, my panties instantly damp from filthy visions of what he was going to do to me. How could I still be aroused by this beast of a man,

CeliaI had never imagined a more degrading and soul-crushing existence than the one I was trapped in. I was back at the club with the lustful eyes of men piercing through my soul.The sultry music began to play, its seductive rhythm echoing in the dimly lit room. With each graceful movement, I tried to convey sensuality, but deep inside, there was a burning defiance, I was determined not to let this performance fully consume me, even as I played the part I had been coerced into.Amid the swirling music, my eyes met Alexander’s, who sat in the shadows, an enigmatic figure amid revelry. His gaze, cold and unyielding, locked onto me with an intensity that left me feeling exposed and vulnerable. It was as if he were dissecting my every move, the power he held over my life.As I danced, the audience responded with fervor. Men showered me with money, their banknotes fluttering down like a perverse rain of validation for my performance. The dollar bills, symbols of both desire and degradatio