Chapter 7
Tears slid silently down Freida's cheeks. She wanted to run. To run away and keep running and never look back.
"Really?" he asked, turning up his nose. "Tears?"
"Why are you doing this?" she asked.
"Doing what?" he uttered.
"This." She sniffed. "Messing with me."
"Aww," he cooed with fake sympathy. "Am I making you feel upset?"
Freida blinked away the tears and nodded.
"Good," he said. "Now come here."
She took a few steps forward and crumpled to her knees at his feet.
"Please?" she asked, clinging to his ankles. "Please. You said you wouldn't make me do it right away. You said you would wait. Please. Please—"
"I lied, you idiot," he said, laughing. "I was fucking with you."
"Why?" she asked.
"Because it's funny," he told her.
She felt like she was going to be physically sick.
It wasn't just the size of him, his cruelty and disregard for her feelings. It wasn't even the fact that she still loved someone else. She was just scared of the intimacy. 'Why is that do you think?' her inner voice whispered.
'Shut up,' she told herself.
The truth was... she knew she was messed up. Big time. And this guy was going to mess her up permanently. After he was done with her, she would be beyond repair. A shell of her former shell-like, almost functioning self. She bowed her head to his feet. "Please, please have mercy. Just this once. Please, Damon."
"No," he said.
With his fingers, he lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.
'His eyes are so green,' she thought. 'Like crystals.'
"Do you wear contacts?" she blurted.
He seemed shocked by the question. "Huh? Why the hell would I?"
Freida cleared her throat and scratched her nose, feeling stupid. The way he looked at her made her feel about ten inches tall.
"You... you have really green eyes," she said.
Damon pulled the strangest face. "Have you ever tried having a thought and not blurting it out?"
"No," Freida replied quite honestly.
"I don't wear contacts," he grunted. "Stop changing the subject."
Freida felt her shoulders slump as all of her strength drained away.
"I'll tell you what," he said. "You can suck it instead."
Freida nodded. She could do that. She'd done it before, and Mr Preston seemed to think it was the best thing ever.
Without any warning, he whipped out his dick. It bounced in front of her face, hitting her on the nose.
"It's big," she said, eyes widening in shock.
"No shit, Sherlock," he said. "Now suck on it, bitch."
It was so much bigger than Mr Preston's, and so much harder.
'He's a much younger man,' the mean voice in her mind reminded her.
She grabbed it and started to lick the tip.
"It's not a lollipop," he complained. "Shove it down your throat."
Freida tried to obey, but everything she did was wrong or annoyed him. She started to think he was being impossible on purpose. "You are really really bad at this," he said at last, pulling away from her.
"Well I never got any complaints before," she argued.
"Oh, from the old man whose wife probably stopped giving head in the nineties," he said.
"He's not that old," Freida shot back. It wasn't much of a comeback, but it was all she had at the moment.
"I'm going to give you a week to learn how to deep throat properly. And if you can't do it... deal's off," he said, putting his dick away. "Deep throat?" she asked.
"Google it, Honey," he said. "And while you are here you can clean my room. Naked. And go make me a sandwich."
Freida walked toward the door, remembered his brother was down there, and walked back. She stared blankly at Damon.
"What!?" he shouted.
"Well... I'm naked and... your brother is down there," she reminded him.
"So?" he asked, shaking his head in annoyance.
"May I please wear my dress to make the sandwich?" she asked, pressing her palms together in prayer.
"No," he said. "And if you keep trying to worm your way out of everything I tell you to do, I'm going to start a new, absolutely no mercy under any circumstance rule. You got it?" Freida nodded. She snuck into the hallway, scanning up and down before carefully making her way down the stairs.
"You have five minutes," he shouted.
'I hate you so much,' she thought.
At the bottom of the stairs, she carefully opened the door to the living room.
"Oh shit," she whispered, jumping back and pressing her naked body into the wall.
She could see through to the kitchen where his brother was sitting... with friends.
'What the heck do I do now?' she wondered. 'It isn't like I can just sneak in there without those guys noticing.' "Four minutes!" she heard his lordship shouting from his room.
She knew he would be angry if she disobeyed. So angry that he might ruin certain people's lives over it. Putting on her most casual face, she walked into the kitchen.
"Hi," she said, giving a little wave to Jayce.
His eyes almost fell out of his head, and one of his friends literally spat out his beer all over the table.
"Don't mind me," Freida said. "I'm just making a sandwich. Erm..."
She shuffled through the fridge. "Which kind of sandwich does he like?"
"T-There's some of that prepacked shit in there," Jayce said. "But... erm... why are you... not wearing clothes."
"I'm a nudist," she said, the lie coming to her on the spot like magic. "Does it bother you?"
All of the three men at the table shook their heads. They whispered and snickered to each other as she hurriedly prepared the sandwich.
"Laters," she said, giving a little wave.
When she ran up the stairs to Damon's room, he looked at the sandwich in her hand and burst out laughing. He laughed so hard he rolled onto his side and curled up, as if his sides were literally splitting. Freida rolled her eyes. "I'm so glad this amuses you, Master."
"What did they say?" he wanted to know.
Freida shrugged. "Not a whole lot."
"Ahhh this is fun," he said, his mood taking a complete U-turn from ten minutes ago. "I love this. I'm so happy you moved in. You know what? I'm going to do something nice to reward you for being such a good girl." "You are?" Freida asked. By now, she had learned not to trust a word he said.
"Hmm," he nodded. "You'll see. You just wait and see."