Becca sat on my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck.“Did you sleep well? "I asked, smiling in the corner.“Very well.”"I can't imagine the reason." he said in a fun way, watching her smile. "You need to change, we'll leave soon.”“ Where are we going? "She raised one of her eyebrows.“ Surprise. Dress up "she pouted. “ Now. "I slid my thumb through your lips, then sealing them with mine.We left the apartment, finding Maddie, Pauline and Ethan standing idly by. Maddie was wearing a light blue short dress and slim heels. Pauline also wore heels, but wore a slightly more appropriate outfit. Ethan was wearing light denim shorts and his stupid smile on his lips. They faced basically three hours of travel, when I had made it very clear for Ethan to wait for us at the spot.“Finally! "Maddie screamed letting go of her arms and walking towards us, kissing us on the face. I stared at her feet for long seconds, hoping that she would notice that I didn't think they were appropriate for wher

I woke up with something being thrown against my face.My instinct was screaming, but when I realized it wasn't hot or acidic, I kept quiet. I opened my eyes minimally, fearing that something else would be thrown at me, but I found myself in a dark place with a strange smell. It looked like mold, at least for a while something very moist and earthy, but I was sure my feet were on firm ground.I blinked a few times, getting used to the ceiling light above my head. My eyes were sensitive, and my body was sore. I felt entirely skinned, and remembered being abruptly pulled from Fred's vehicle.Fred, my master and now boyfriend, the man to whom I declared myself before that accident, and whose phrase he could not even hear from my mouth until everything collapsed. Fred, who was bleeding and unconscious. Fred, whose body was so stuck in the dented door of the car, that I doubted he was breathing. My master and partner, who could simply be dead now." Wondering how did you get here? "I heard

"What's your name?”For days, that question was repeated. For days, I doubted my own identity. Days, not minutes or hours. Days when I was kidnapped by a bitter and cruel woman, days when my life became part of a show of horrors, and I was thrown into a moat full of men with a multitude of evils ready to be put into practice.The day it all started, I was told that it would not go beyond a basic teaching to a subject of which I was being idle. I was told that I would be taught to be a submissive. That I would learn to respect a man and see him as the center of my world.That I would understand that it was nothing more than a dog at the feet of a man. They told me that I would lose everything, to become obedient. And the worst part is that I didn't consent to any of that. I didn't want to be part of the misrepresented world they created, but I was forced. And none of this had anything related to BDSM.Soon I, who some time ago did not even accept to nurture some loving feeling for a ma

I knew it was all my fault, but the certainty only came on the day Rebecca's mother received the news. In fact, when she saw, watching the news, that her daughter was missing. I was still in hospital. I was still debilitated, struggling to leave the devices and look for it. But Rebecca's mother went to the hospital. And she visited me.Sophie Smith, the woman that Rebecca admired so much for having survived a toxic relationship, was desolate, broken, lost. Even inside a hospital, even surrounded by my family and medical staff, she screamed and blamed me. She cried and pointed her finger at me, while saying:"You promised, Fred! You promised you would take care of my daughter, and you took her away from me!”After that day, my dreams were invaded by Sophie's voice, by the image of what I thought Rebecca would be already dead in some abandoned grave. And then, sleeping or taming myself with medicines, became everything but a moment of rest. And I couldn't even deny it. Because I knew it

I let a singing smile be sketched by my lips. I didn't make any positive gestures, but I kept quiet, watching him. The man frowned lightly, then walked away. At least the tactic of facing the kidnapper to the point that he thought that I would never allow myself to forget his features still worked. I held on not to ask why he didn't cover his face like the others.Instead, I waited until he sat down, started cutting his chicken again and faced the food again. The smell was driving me crazy. I had the impression that anyone would see me as an addict in the face of what had left him in abstinence. I could very well have eaten that wooden table, if a paint of salt and lemon was placed on it.However, something was wrong. The fact that the man ate the chicken did not mean that all the rest of the food was not poisoned. I doubted that they could have all that work to do with me, they could very well do it in the traditional way. On second thought, it wasn't even necessary to put poison in