Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
BAILEY
So the testimony went well. It helped that everyone was there for me. I felt stronger with their support. And knowing I wasn’t just speaking for myself, but for others still out there. That was huge.
But now that it’s over, I keep thinking about what comes next. Not just the final pieces of legal stuff, but... everything else. My life. My future. My relationship with Leon.
Maybe school? Maybe looking for a more permanent job. I don’t know. I don’t want to end up living with my parents forever though. And I refuse to let Leon take care of me without being able to pull my weight. It’s a lot to think about.
Right now he’s on a virtual walk through of the Firefly Center. They’ve finished the therapy rooms and most of the dorms. It looks like the place will be up and running before the new year. It’s wild to imagine.
Maybe one day, I’ll go there. A long time from now when my cuts aren’t so raw. It could be healing. Give me closure.
Speaking of that, I’ve been doing some research.
About trauma and intimacy and all the stuff therapists talk around but don’t really get into the details of.
At least mine doesn’t. I found these articles about something called therapeutic role play.
It’s basically where survivors can revisit parts of their trauma in controlled ways to take their power back.
At first, it sounded completely insane. Like, why would I want to put myself through anything that reminded me of what happened? But the more I read, the more it started to make sense.
Leon’s been so patient with me. So careful, still. Even after the last time I broke down.
I know he’s scared of pushing me or triggering me, and I love him for that. But I’m starting to realize that what I need isn’t just gentleness. I need to feel powerful again. Desired. In control.
I need to take those bad moments and look them in the eye. Make them my own.
The articles talk about exploring power dynamics safely.
Where the person who was victimized gets to be the one calling the shots.
Where they can say exactly what they want and how they want it, and their partner follows their lead completely.
Where they can reenact specific scenarios to face them head-on.
God, even writing this down makes my heart race. But not in a bad way? More like... anticipation. I’m wet even thinking about it. Which I guess is a good thing?
Part of me is terrified to bring this up to Leon.
What if he thinks I’m weird? What if he can’t handle what I ask of him?
But another part of me—the part that spilled my guts in court, the part that survived everything those monsters did to me—that part knows he’ll understand.
That part knows I deserve to heal however I need to heal.
I think I’m ready to talk to him. Yeah. I’ll tell him what I’ve been reading and what I think might help. The worst thing that could happen is he says no, right? But knowing Leon... knowing how much he loves me... I don’t think that’s going to happen.
Okay. When he gets off his call, I’m going to do this. I’m going to be brave.
It took me a few days to work up the nerve to get into the details of what I wanted. Leon had to coax it out of me, but once I started describing scenarios, he didn’t look at me like I was crazy or weird. He understood completely.
We spent hours talking through boundaries, safe words, what I thought might help and what I absolutely didn’t want to try.
And tonight is the night. Or at least I think it is. One of the things we talked about was the element of surprise.
I’m down in the basement apartment, laying in bed alone.
Leon’s stripped the room of most of the clutter, leaving only the bed and dresser.
Already my mind starts to travel back to those early months where I was alone in a room like this, nothing but the broken thoughts in my head and the waiting…
so much waiting for the pain and torment to come.
The waiting is the hardest part. It always was.
I pull the thin blanket up to my chin, even though I’m not cold.
It’s more for comfort. The basement has that same slightly musty smell, that same claustrophobic feeling of being cut off from the world.
My heart is already starting to race, but not entirely from fear.
There’s anticipation, maybe even excitement mixed in.
I’m choosing this.
A door slams somewhere upstairs and I jump. Just my parents, probably. But I remember what it was like to flinch at every noise, to wonder if this time would be the time someone came for me. My muscles tense on instinct.
I don’t know when Leon will show up. It could be any minute, or hours. Or maybe it won’t happen tonight at all. That part gives me that familiar flutter of panic in my stomach.
Normal sounds of the house settling help to calm me.
Water running through pipes, the furnace humming, the whir of the ceiling fan.
I try to read the book I brought down, but I keep rereading the same sentence until I finally give up.
My mind keeps drifting to what Leon and I talked about, what I asked him to do.
I sigh and stare at the ceiling. Time feels like a blur—maybe minutes pass, maybe hours. My eyes are drifting shut when I hear something outside the door.
Footsteps… heavy and deliberate.
I shove my book to the side with trembling hands and listen closely, fighting the urge to curl up into a ball.
The footsteps move closer to the bedroom door.
My whole body tenses as I stare at the door handle, waiting for it to turn. This is it. This is what I asked for. What I need.
The handle rattles, and I bite my lip to keep from making a sound.
I’m already soaking my underwear, my nipples are hard too. I should feel shame for that, but I don’t. I want this. I’m in control.
Leon bursts through the door, dressed in a tailored suit with a red tie. Nothing like what he would normally wear. His expression is cold and predatory. So different from the gentle demeanor he usually has around me.
I scramble up the bed, yanking the blanket all the way up to my neck. “No,” I cry. “Get out.”
“Did you really think you could hide from me?” His voice is deeper than usual, with that razor sharp edge I’ve only seen him use on enemies.
“Please,” I beg.
“Begging won’t help you, little girl.”
My breath catches. Even though we planned this, even though I know it’s him, my body reacts like it did all those months ago. Adrenaline flooding my system. My body trembling in fear.
He steps into the room and closes the door behind him. The sound of the lock clicking makes me flinch, but the wet heat between my legs intensifies.
“Take off that blanket. Let me see what I paid for.”
I shake my head, not trusting my voice.
He slows for a moment, his eyes widening in a look that’s all Leon. I nod, giving him the okay. He swallows hard but shifts back into the persona we practiced.
“I said—Take. It. Off.”
“No,” I cry out. “I won’t.”
I hold the blanket tighter, like it could actually protect me. Like this thin fabric could work as a shield from someone so big and powerful.
“I think you want to be punished.” I shake my head aggressively. “I didn’t pay for some slut who won’t do as she’s told.”
Then he lunges for me, wrapping his fingers around my ankles and pulling me to the edge of the bed. I put up a fight, kicking and squirming away from him all while heat builds and builds in my core.
I kick him hard in the thigh and he hisses a breath. “You’ll pay for that.”
“Stop, please! I’ll be good.”
Memories flood my mind, but I push them away, focusing only on Leon’s features.
“You’ll be good because I’ll make you.”
Tears stream down my cheeks and Leon pauses, for only a second, before he rips my underwear down my legs.
I kick and thrash some more, finally getting free of his grip and sprinting toward the door.
It’s no use. He catches me around the waist, slinging me against his chest. His hands greedily dig into my hips and work their way up to my breasts, squeezing and kneading in a way that makes me have to bite back a moan.
“These tits are mine. I’ll paint them in my cum.” I let out a hushed cry that’s somewhere between struggle and pleasure. “And this pretty little cunt… I’m going to destroy it.”
He throws me onto the bed and I push myself away as much as I can before he grabs my legs. “Stop moving or I’ll make you,” he grits out.
Here it is. What I asked for. The part that really worried me.
I take a shaky breath. “Make me then.”
He reaches for my neck and squeezes with enough pressure that it feels real. That I actually feel the flow of air into my chest dwindle. With his other hand, he finds my soaked pussy, thrusting two fingers inside me without warning. My eyes roll back from both fear and pleasure.
I can feel the change in Leon’s posture as soon as he sinks into my pussy. He feels how wet I am. How much I want this. It turns him on too.
He exerts more pressure on my neck, grasping right in the spot we researched about. Enough to make it feel real without actually hurting me.
Leon making me come was never part of the arrangement, but right now I don’t know if I can hold back. Pleasure shoots through me like little electric shocks.
“Does the little slut like to be choked?” he groans against my ear. “This wet cunt sure feels like you do.”
I moan, even though the sound comes out strangled. My hips buck against his fingers like they have a mind of their own and all at once Leon pulls out and releases my neck.
“I didn’t pay to pleasure you, you filthy whore.” He slaps the palm of his hand against my pussy and I see stars.
“Oh God,” I moan, unable to hold it in.
Roughly, he flips me over, yanking my night shirt all the way up my back. “Let’s see if this hole was worth it.”