Then
The need to feel like I belonged overpowered any reservations I had about Michael. I never had anyone tell me that I was theirs . I desperately wanted to be loved and needed. Once Michael said those words, something in my brain shorted, all logic was disregarded, and all I knew was that I needed to please him—to make him happy. I hadn’t had a family or anything else that felt remotely like love in many, many years. I was abandoned and left to fend for myself. Now, someone was going to finally take care of me.
Michael didn’t let me stay the night with him. He insisted that we shouldn’t be sleeping together like that. I was hurt but I didn’t question him—he knew what he was doing.
Over the next few days, I checked my phone every minute, waiting for his call or text. I was distracted at work, writing down wrong orders, getting yelled at and threatened to be fired. I didn’t care anymore; all that I cared about was Michael. And when he finally called me four days later after I incessantly texted and called him, I left work early to go see him. Inevitably, I was fired.
I knocked at Michael’s door as I cried. I was freaking out that I no longer had a job—how was I going to pay my rent? How was I going to live? I knew I wouldn’t get a recommendation from the place I had just worked at for two years. I am such a fucking idiot.
“Oh, baby girl, what’s wrong?” Michael answered the door and held me in his arms.
“I just got fired. They didn’t understand that I needed to come see you right now, ” I cried into his chest.
Michael stroked my hair. “That’s okay, sweet girl. I’ll take care of you. You’ll never have to worry about that again.”
Oh, how I ate his words up.
“Really?” I looked up at him, my eyes burning from the makeup that ran into my eyes.
He smiled down at me. “Yes. Come in. Daddy needs you.”
He tied my hands to the headboard after he stripped me slowly. I waited as he elaborately tied my ankles to the bottom of his bed frame. All I wanted was for him to be inside of me, to make me his again. I would never use my safe word again—I didn’t want to upset him. If he hurt me again, I would be his good girl and let him hurt me.
“Are you going to behave tonight, baby?”
He walked around the bed as he surveyed my body.
“Yes, Daddy,” I nodded eagerly.
“Is your pussy wet for Daddy?” He crawled onto the bed over me, his toned arms and abs contracting as his erection pressed against my stomach.
“Yes, Daddy,” I answered again.
He licked his lips before he got to his knees and put his head between my thighs.
“Beg Daddy to lick your wet pussy,” he demanded, his hot breath only inches away from my pulsing pussy.
I didn’t hesitate. “Please, Daddy. Please lick my pussy,” I moaned, straining my neck to watch him.
He suddenly buried his face into my pussy, his hands clenching onto my thighs as he licked his way around, tasting me. I felt warmth spread throughout my body as he circled my clit with his tongue and as he pressed two fingers inside of me.
“Oh my God,” I called out, close to coming.
He suddenly pulled away from me and bit the inside of my thigh, hard. I screamed as he continued, drawing blood.
“Daddy!” I cried.
He stopped and looked up at me, his lips speckled with blood. “That’s right. You’ll never praise God in this room, only Daddy.” he continued to lick my clit, quickly making me come.
He hovered over me again and started to stroke his cock before quickly ramming it inside my mouth, slamming so hard into my throat that I felt bile rise up.
“Don’t you fucking vomit on Daddy’s cock,” he scolded as he pulled out of my mouth.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I cried, the tears streaming down my cheeks from gagging.
There was a sharp slap to my cheek before he took both of his hands and started to squeeze around my neck. He was suddenly inside of me and started to fuck me roughly, pressing harder onto my throat. My eyes began to flutter shut and the next thing I knew, Michael’s cum was dripping out of me and he was panting on the bed above me; I had passed out and he kept fucking me.
“You’ve been such a good girl. Let’s clean you up and I’ll feed you.”
I still felt lightheaded as he untied me and helped me up. I wobbled to his bathroom knowing that something was terribly wrong; I knew this was all wrong. I knew he was abusing me, but I couldn’t help myself—I needed to please Daddy now. And I vowed to myself that I would continue to please him until the day I died.