Текст книги "Grace Street"

Автор книги: Ella Dominguez

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter 5 – Peyton, age 37. Profession: Restaurant Owner and Entrepreneur

Prologue:

Welcome to my world, C5. I used less than ethical means of finding you, but alas, I found you. A case you were involved in fell into my lap by sheer luck. You are the surviving ‘victim’ of a known murder suspect, though I hesitantly use the term ‘victim.’ I would never suggest that you were asking for what you got, but you stated it yourself. Even now, you will not talk openly or divulge everything about what transpired that night. Why is that? I ask, but I already know the answer. You liked it. You sought it out. You are a masochist and one of the most intensely personal people I’ve ever met, even in my line of work.

Your façade is almost perfect, but I can see right through you. I’m not sure there’s even anything I can help you with except to give you what you want – pain. This will be a lesson for the both of us and I hope you can teach me to embrace my sadism fully, as my other Chapters have pigeon-holed me and not allowed that side of me to come out completely.

Pre-activity:

I made my offer to you and was pleased that you accepted, though I expected as much. Your STD check has returned clean and I’m eager to get started working on you. I have secured a quaint bungalow not far from my place and out of view from the rest of the world. The solitude will allow for us to play hard and permit you to scream without fear of being heard, and you will scream, C5. I promise .

Surveillance Notes:

I have watched you closely. You’re discreet. I like that. Not much else to tell. You’re a woman of habit and a professional when it comes to your businesses, but behind closed doors is where I suspect you’ll really shine.

Weekend 1:

Your physical exam was disturbing. Though your physique is attractive, you bear the scars of a true masochist. I must commend you, though, on hiding them well. Long sleeved-shirts, slacks and long skirts at all times…they should’ve been tell-tale signs, yet I wasn’t prepared to see what I did. But your battle wounds will not dissuade me from my ultimate goal. Perhaps I can add some of my artwork to your canvas. Yes, I like that idea very much.

With tears blinding your eyes and choking your voice, our journey has started with snap of leather and a bang. Though I may seemingly be unmoved by your sobs, that couldn’t be further from the truth. I am moved. Deeply.

Elsa sighed with relief. There was hope for Victor. She reached for her coffee to find it still too hot to drink and put it back down.

I am moved in a way that’s hard to describe without sounding disturbed. Even now as I relive the pain that I put you through, my cock hardens and my breathing quickens. There is no sinking anguish in accepting what I am. I accepted it long ago. There is no refuting my blood line there’s no point in denying who I am. I can only add that I’m glad to have found a willing participant to allow me to experiment on.

Elsa’s wistfulness instantly vanished leaving her with an inexplicable sense of emptiness. She couldn’t and wouldn’t believe that he was truly a sadist. Not the kind that enjoyed inflicting pain just for the sake of it. He hadn’t inflicted any pain on her. Not serious pain. Suddenly she became conscious of a low tortured sob coming from her. She didn’t care who he thought he was or where he came from.

She didn’t know for sure, but her feminine intuition was telling her that he hadn’t always been cruel. She had seen little glimpses of his kindness and he had even admitted that he loved before. What happened to that man? Who besides his mother had hurt him so badly that he chose to hide behind Mr. Black to avoid further injury to his heart?

Her phone rang out loudly, startling her and causing her to knock the coffee mug into her lap. The hot liquid drenched her thighs and immediately scalded her. She stood and pulled the fabric of her skirt away from her skin.

The phone rang again. She was so engrossed in trying to relieve the scorching pain now setting in, she had forgotten the reason it happened. Absentmindedly, she reached for the phone and answered as she rushed to the restroom for relief.

“This is Elsa,” she choked out, still crying from the revelation about Victor and now the burns on her thighs.

“What’s wrong?” Victor’s stressed voice boomed.

Elsa’s throat tightened. “I just burned myself. The phone startled me and I tipped my hot coffee over into my lap…” she lifted her skirt to see blisters forming and she shrieked when she placed a wet paper towel onto her legs.

“How bad is it?” There was a faint tremor in his voice as though some emotion had touched him.

She frowned. Maybe he was enjoying that she had hurt herself. “I can’t talk. It’s blistering and I need to take care of this,” she cried.

“Go to the ER. Burns can become infected easily,” he ordered sternly.

“You’re overreacting. I’m not going to the ER,” she hissed through her teeth as the pain and heat began to throb.

“I mean it, Elsa.”

“I have to go,” she abruptly hung up to deal with her wounds.

She walked quickly down the hall to the break room and retrieved several ice cubes from the refrigerator to try and alleviate the intense pain, but it was pointless. Victor was right.

*

As she lay in the emergency room bed with salve and gauze dressings covering her wounds, she called her mother to let her know what had happened. She was alone in a new city and she just needed some mommy medicine to make her feel better. When her mother answered, her raspy voice filled her with warmth.

“Mom,” she began to cry. Her tears weren’t only because of her injury, but because of that damned manuscript and Mr. Black.

“What’s wrong, El?” her mother’s soothing voice held a note of tension.

Where should she begin? She wanted to tell her mom everything from about how she had signed her freedom away to a stranger, to how she had broken the law by breaking into an FBI’s agent’s house, to having fallen for him.

Instead, all that came out was, “I’m at the hospital. I burned myself.”

“Oh, baby…” her mom broke off. “Are you okay? Should I come out there?”

She shook her head as if her mom could see her. “No, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“You could hear it more often if you called,” she huffed.

“Please don’t lecture me, Mom. I know. I’ve just been avoiding hearing you tell me how immature it was for me to move here,” she sniffed.

“I don’t think it was immature. I think it was a little rash, but you’ve always had a mind of your own. And what do I know? Maybe it was a good idea to get away from that son-of-a-bitch Patrick.”

Elsa smiled and wiped her tears away.

“I love you, El, and so does your brother. Even though I know he can be a real prick to you sometimes.”

She really did love her mom and her way with words. “Nick the Prick. I like that. I’ll have to call him that the next time I see him,” she laughed.

“Is there anything else wrong?” her mom probed.

How the hell did she do that? Her mom always had a sixth sense about her. She could never get away with anything when she was a teenager because of it.

Elsa hated to lie to her, but had no choice. The truth was just too ugly and bizarre.

“Nothing else is wrong.”

“I’ll be there on Tuesday,” her mother said with finality.

*

Three hours later, Elsa’s impatience was getting the best of her as she waited to be discharged from the ER. She flipped through the channels on the television in the room, wishing she was doing some reading instead, but the Chronicles of Mr. Black were at her office. It was probably better that way. With the drugs she was on, she might be prone to vivid nightmares if she read any more.

Just as she closed her eyes for a quick nap, she felt hot hands on her face, pushing her hair back. The medication had fully kicked in, making her drowsy, but she pried her eyes open to see Victor standing next to her bed. Too stunned at seeing him, she lay motionless without saying anything.

“I’m glad to see you know how to follow directions,” he said in a low voice, soft and clear.

He leaned down close to her, looking down at her intensely as he lifted the sheet covering her legs to inspect the damage.

Elsa stared into his dark and compelling eyes, wondering why he had come back to town when there were far more important things than her that needed his attention. Her heart swelled at the romantic idea that he cared enough to show up until his typed words flashed in front of her sleepy eyes.

“Does it hurt?” his voice dropped in volume as he touched her thigh.

She pressed her lips together in anger. “Do you want it to hurt?”

Victor’s mouth twisted wryly and he quirked an eyebrow at her questioningly. “Why would you ask that?”

Anxiety knotted in her stomach. “Because you told me you like to cause pain.”

The line of his mouth tightened a fraction more and his eyes darkened dangerously. “I never told you that.”

She blinked long and hard and focused her fuzzy, medicated gaze. She had given away too much. “I’m pretty sure you did,” she held her ground firmly.

As he chewed the corner of his lip, he studied her face slowly as if waiting for her to break. “What I said was I like your tears.”

Little by little, she let out her breath. “Same difference. Pain equals tears.”

“It’s not the same, but I’m not here to argue with you, most especially not when you’re heavily medicated.”

“I’m not heavily medicated. I can still think straight,” she tried to sit up defensively.

Victor rolled his eyes and pushed her back down. “You’re medicated enough that the physician told me you can’t drive yourself home.”

Elsa sighed loudly. “Aren’t there rules about divulging personal medical information to people who aren’t my family?”

A slow blush crept over Victor’s face. It was such a strange thing to see, even in her semi-medicated state, she was taken aback.

“I told him I was your boyfriend. Anyway, he knows me…” he added with a dismissive wave of his hand as he turned and walked to the door to look out.

She sat back up and swung her legs off the edge of the bed as she tried to stand. “You’ve really got this whole lying thing down to an art, don’t you?”

Victor spun on his heel and gripped her upper arm to steady her. “Who says it’s a lie?” he glared down at her.

Elsa huffed. “I know what you are and what you’re not.”

For a long moment, he looked back at her. “And what is that?”

“You’re sure as hell not my boyfriend.”

If only she could say what she was really thinking. He’s cruel and sadistic. He’s a horrible man for using all those women as some kind of experiment and pretending he was doing them a favor when he was simply getting off on it. He’s an awful person for using her in the same way.

Victor’s glance sharpened and his fingers tightened around her arm. “Just get dressed.”

On the drive back to her apartment, Elsa watched Victor closely. She was beginning to feel guilty for what she had said. He had shown up and though the reason wasn’t exactly clear to her, she was appreciative.

“Thank you for coming to get me,” she whispered as she rested her hand on his thigh.

He kept his gaze forward and simply nodded.

“Victor?” His eyes darted to the side, but he refused to look at her directly. “I missed you this week.”

Suddenly he veered off the road and onto the shoulder, slamming on the breaks and making her seatbelt lock up. All at once, his mouth was on her and his hands fisted in her hair. His tongue danced around inside her mouth and she sucked at it like a woman who had been deprived the indulgence of a man’s mouth for far too long. The turbulence of his passion swirled around her and his kiss drained of her the anger she had been feeling earlier. His fierce kiss turned gentle and his fingers glided down her cheek to her chin where he held her firmly in place. Hypnotized by his touch, she tingled under his fingertips.

When he pulled back to stare down at her, she forgot the man he was in the journal.

“Though I do enjoy your tears, I don’t ever want to see you hurt. Not like you were today. Your physical pain is not something that gets me off.”

This man was a conundrum. He had written that he was a sadist and had accepted it. She searched his eyes for some sign of truth in his statement.

“Just my emotional pain?” she asked.

With his large shoulders heaving as he breathed, his brows drew together and he shook his head, but left his answer unspoken. It was fine because no words were necessary. His expression was easily readable for a change. He didn’t want to cause that kind of pain either. Not intentionally.

Her gaze clouded with tears, but she held them at bay as the eye-opening truth hit her. Victor wasn’t a sadist in the traditional sense. Even though he may have been turned on by the pain that he caused, he was simply a man who craved power in its most primal form – domination. Exerting his power over another person was what turned him on. He wasn’t forcing himself on unwilling people: he was seeking consensual partners, like herself; people who craved the same things he did. Didn’t this intelligent man realize that? But how could he kid himself into believing that he was helping those women? Perhaps he needed to convince himself of that in order to justify his actions. Then again, maybe she was the one kidding herself.

Elsa leaned forward and kissed him. God, she hoped she could help him see things her way.

***

Victor hadn’t anticipated the sudden departure from Cambridge, but he was glad for it. The day had been a shitty one. As he drove Elsa back to her apartment to gather clothes for the weekend, he tried his best not to recall the horrible events of the day, but it was pointless. The ugliness kept seeping into his subconscious.

He had been accosted by one of the parents of Victim #2, the pretty blonde, philosophy major. The father was lashing out at anyone who would listen and Victor just happened to be the man who caught the brunt of his attack. The accusation that he wasn’t working hard enough and that he didn’t care about what had happened stung. He did care. He was trying hard.

He glanced at Elsa who had dozed off and guilt swept over him. He should be in Cambridge not with her. But Elsa needed him, too. She had no one else to rely on. Wasn’t he allowed to have a life outside of work? He wasn’t asking for much, just a few days a week to spend engaging in his favorite pastime – his Chapters.

Parked in front of her apartment, he allowed her to nap while he let himself in to pack a bag for her. He hadn’t gotten to listen in on her activities during the week and as he grabbed her toothbrush, he wondered what she what it was she kept herself busy with. He ran his thumb over the bristles and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He looked tired and a helluva lot older than thirty-six.

He opened his mouth and peeked inside. His gums were cut and sore from the grieving father’s fist, but there was no outward sign of his assault. The man was lucky no charges were pressed against him, but Victor had insisted he simply be let go. There was no point in making a man who was already suffering, pay for his anger – not when his anger was valid.

Climbing back into the Nissan, he lifted Elsa’s skirt to inspect the dressing on her wound. It already needed to be changed.

Finally at the Grace Street brownstone, he parked in the driveway. Carrying Elsa inside, he laid her out on the chaise. It was still early evening and he called in an order for Italian food to be delivered in two hours’ time. In the meantime he would view the video from the previous weekend. He walked up the stairs and reached for the key around his neck when he remembered he hadn’t brought it along. He sighed irritably at himself and decided instead to bring in his luggage from the Nissan, and shower and freshen up from his trip.

Having fallen asleep in only his briefs after his shower, he woke to Elsa’s voice.

“Victor, our food is here.”

He opened his eyes to a freshly bathed red-head hovering above him looking and smelling absolutely edible. “I had a shitty week,” he grumbled as he let out a long breath. He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear as he stared into her eyes, mentally petitioning her for solace.

“I’m sorry,” she leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth, offering him comfort the only way she could.

“What are you sorry for?”

“That I wasn’t there to make it better and… for the other thing,” she blushed.

He had already forgiven her but he still liked that she was worried about his reaction. Her fear was a potent thing. He attempted to smile but winced when the sharp pain in his mouth reminded him just how horrible his day had really been.

“Well you’re here now,” he tugged her closer. “So make it better.”

“Our food is going to get cold,” she circled a finger around his hairy navel.

“Fuck the food. I just want to forget about the week I had.”

Elsa’s eyes lit up the room. “It would be my pleasure to help you with that.”

She carefully crawled between his legs trying to avoid contact on her wounds. As she sat back on her haunches and rubbed her palm over his quickly growing dick, Victor was touched that despite her obvious pain, she was still willing to please him. This woman really was something else.

He suddenly felt drugged by her clean, womanly scent. He just wanted every wretched image and memory from the week to go away and for there to be nothing but thoughts of Elsa and her mouth around him. He clasped his hands behind his head and closed his eyes while she pulled his briefs off and worked her magic on his cock. He felt the warmth of her mouth around him, the slickness of her saliva and the tightness of her throa,t and the world around him melted into obscurity. Yes, this is exactly what he needed… She is exactly what he needed.

16: Bared

Seated at the table, Victor and Elsa ate their reheated dinner in near silence. She wanted desperately to know the details of his week, but knew she couldn’t ask any questions without giving anything away. As she chewed on the veal parmesan, she tried to formulate a way to ask about his job indirectly.

“I talked to my mom.”

Victor’s instantly perked up. “Oh? About what?”

“About my accident and about what’s going on back home in Mass.”

He chewed his food but remained silent, waiting for more information.

“She said they found another body up by Cambridge. It’s horrible. The whole community is pretty torn up about it.”

His brows went up and he nodded, but never let on that he suspected anything. “I can imagine. Have you kept up with the case at all?”

She mentally patted herself on the back. She was turning out to be a pretty good player in his game. “Not since I’ve moved here. I don’t watch television or news except on rare occasions, but you already know that about me, right?” she kidded.

He nodded again and lifted one side of his mouth ironically. “I do know that.” He put his fork down and wiped his mouth. Leaning his chair back on two legs he gave her a pensive look. “What do you think about all that?”

Elsa froze. She was thrilled that they were actually having a normal conversation, but she hadn’t expected Victor to question her and she had to think a moment before responding. “I’m not sure what to think. It’s a tragedy for sure. The world can be a brutal place and sometimes there’s just no making sense out of the things that happen in it. But...” she hesitated to keep going on. She scanned the tabletop, suddenly feeling the weight of guilt upon her. She really hated lying to Victor and she detested that she had to pretend not to know about him.

His expression was grim as he watched her. “What, Elsa? But what?”

“I just wish that…” the words were right there on the tip of her tongue and again she was assaulted with her sick yearning to confess herself to him. She just wished that they could be normal together. “I just wish that all the atrocities of the world could be righted. I know that’s a naïve statement, but still. I just wish there was more light in the world and not so much darkness.”

When she finally found the guts to look up, Victor looked distressed. “Sometimes it’s good to embrace the darkness.”

Now it was her turn to nod in agreement. “I agree. I’m not saying that darkness is always a bad thing. We all have shadows following behind us, some of us more than others, but to be consumed totally by darkness isn’t a good thing. We all need light in our lives, even if it’s just a small ray of it.”

He sighed heavily as he brought the chair down onto all fours and his voice filled with angst. “Sometimes the darkness can’t be denied.”

A new anguish seared her heart. He truly believed his own statement. “You’re not going to change my mind about it so save your breath. There’s light in all of us. Even if you can’t feel it and you don’t think it’s there – it’s there, Victor.”

He shook his head and the corners of his lips curled upward only a fraction. “Jesus, you’re stubborn.”

She wasn’t sure why it happened, but her cheeks warmed under his penetrative and earnest gaze. She could only guess it was because she knew that look in his eyes. He wanted her.

Victor rested his elbows on the table and pressed his index finger to his mouth. “It’s a fact that people who easily and frequently blush, are likely to be great lovers. But since I already know this is true in your case, I’m only proving that point.”

Elsa had to fight to urge to roll her eyes. “Thank you for the compliment…” she grinned. “You and your facts, you’re just full of them, aren’t you?”

His smile deepened. “I am. Do you want to know another fact?”

“Do I have a choice?” she asked with a trace of laughter in her voice.

He shook his head and responded matter-of-factly, “My cock has a voracious appetite, the likes of which only you can satiate at this moment. Now…” he paused to stand and motioned toward the chaise. “…get over there and spread your legs so I can devour you like a five course meal.”

It was hard to miss the savage inner fire glowing in his eyes and the mystery held within them beckoned to her irresistibly. Walking toward the chaise, she peered over her shoulder at him. “Would that be Victor or Mr. Black doing the devouring?”

He lifted an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Does it really matter?”

“No, because I enjoy them both. I just want to know whose name to scream out when I come,” she opened her robe to reveal her nakedness beneath.

“Don’t you mean if I allow you to come?” he narrowed his eyes and rubbed his palms together.

“That’s a given.”

He smiled wider yet and pushed his pants down. “Whoever you want to fuck you will fuck you, Elsa. Just tell me who you want.”

Laying her body on the chaise, she spread her legs like she had been told to do. “How about a little of both?”

He drew his brows together and stared at her with complete confusion on his face as if it never occurred to him that he could be both at the same time. “Interesting concept,” he licked his lips and kicked his pants to the side. “I think we can work something out.”

With no lead-in licking or nibbling, he dove into her pussy, but inadvertently touched her wounds causing her to cringe and her eyes to fill with tears.

“Shit!” he sat back on his haunches and looked genuinely remorseful. He eyed her dressing and peeled back a corner. “We’ll get these changed once I’m done with you.” Gently, he pushed her legs apart, keeping his hands on her knees, away from her burns, and got right back to business.

Elsa wrapped her fingers in his hair and smiled. This man was no sadist, but he did have needs and she was more than willing to provide for him. She tugged his hair and pulled his head up until their eyes met.

“Drag me to the dark side, Victor Black, and show me what my body was made for.”

***

How was it possible that Elsa knew all the right words? Yes, he would drag her to his dark side and show her that her body was made for him. It was an invitation he wasn’t going to turn down. He buried his tongue inside her and withdrew it as he savored her clean flavor. Spreading her labia, he sunk his teeth in her clit, making her writhe uncontrollably. He ate her out until she was begging to come and his jaw ached, but he wasn’t ready for her climax. He stood, grabbed her hand and walked to the bedroom with her in tow.

He had stopped off at the hardware store the day he finalized paperwork on the brownstone and there were a few items he had been waiting for just the right moment to use on her. He doubted he would be able to use them as he didn’t know during his trip back from Cambridge what the extent of her injuries was. However, to his joy, he found her to be quite healthy and still able to be used for his pleasure.

In the walk-in closet, he reached on the top shelf and pulled down a long length of soft nylon rope and Elsa’s eyes rounded with fear when he approached her with it.

“Is this for what I said?” she backed away from him.

He shook his head. Her fear really was intoxicating.

“Then what are you doing?”

“Dragging you to the dark side, Peach. Isn’t that what you asked for?” he leaned into her and nipped her bottom lip.

She nodded and the heat from her core radiated off her body in waves. When she relaxed, he began to bind her wrists in a decorative knot he had learned to make back in his sailing days. Back when he and… his body stilled. Chapter One.

“Victor?”

He shook his head violently and picked up where he left off. Guiding her over to a corner of the room, he looped the end of the rope around a heavy-duty ceiling hook he had installed himself when he first bought the house.

“When did you put that here?” Elsa asked, looking up at the silver hook.

“Awhile ago,” he answered as he slowly began to pull the rope taut.

“Is your game always this organized and planned out?”

He let out a breathy chuckle at the look on Elsa’s face. She exuded a combination of anxiety and uncertainty.

He waggled his eyebrows at her playfully. “You have no idea the extent to which I plan these things out.”

With the first pull of the rope, a soft gasp escaped her and with each subsequent tug of the nylon, her body straightened and stretched until it finally came into perfect position as she rested on the balls of her feet.

“I’m afraid,” he heard her whisper so softly he almost missed it.

He paused to hold her head steady and his eyes caught and held hers. Her piercing brown eyes grew large and liquid and her bottom lip trembled faintly. She was genuinely fearful of him. But why? He had already told her that he would never harm her. There was more going on in her head than he could read just by studying her expression. If only he could read her thoughts…

“Why do you insist on making me repeat myself, Peach? I already told you I would never hurt you,” he cooed soothingly to try and ease her anxiety.

Her body swayed hypnotically but her apprehension remained. She didn’t trust him and could he blame her? He tried to concentrate on the beautiful and artistic image of her naked body and flowing hair down her back, but One was still lingering in the shadows. He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath and pushed the memories of that time of his life back to where they belong – in the far back corner of his never-to-be-recalled things. The same place most of his childhood memories resided.

Redirecting his attention on her face, he saw what she had been talking about – the small ray of light. It was there in her eyes, but e didn’t want any part of it. The light was a lie and offered nothing but false hope, yet it was there and she believed in it…

As he glided a hand down the center of her breasts, he stepped back. “If you want me to stop…”

Elsa’s soft, feminine and meek voice broke through as if she had sensed his desires “Do it, Victor. Use me. Force me to do your will. Make me feel alive. Show me your darkness and I’ll share my light.”

***

Still trying to catch her breath from the vicious fucking-while-being-suspended-in-mid-air she had just been submitted to, Elsa rubbed her raw wrists vigorously trying to get circulation back into them. She had never been more afraid of him than at that moment when the rope tightened and she was completely vulnerable to him. Chapter Five had flashed in her mind and the things he did to her. But she wasn’t Peyton and Mr. Black recognized that. She saw it in his tortured eyes when he almost stopped.

Lying next to Victor, she rolled onto her side and thrust a wrist in front of his face.

“I thought you said no irreparable damage?”

He laughed obnoxiously and pushed her hand away. “It’ll heal.”

She propped herself up onto an elbow and rested half her body on his chest to get a better look at him.“My mom is coming on Tuesday.”

Victor lifted his head off the pillow and stared at her a brief moment before responding. “Tuesdays and Wednesdays belong to me.”

Her mouth parted in shock. “Since when?”

“Since I added the new rule that in addition to weekends, Tuesdays and Wednesdays are also mine.”

“Don’t you think I should’ve been informed of this new rule?” she poked him in the ribs.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I planned on informing you. Eventually.”

“What other new rules do you have for me?”

He smiled evilly and leaned his head back, but kept his eyes locked onto hers. “You’re to play with yourself every work day during your lunch hour, record it and send it to me.”

“You’re impossible, Victor Laurenzo. Seriously, that’s the most ridiculous rule. First you say no masturbating and now you want me to…”

“Stop talking or else I’ll add another one. Anyway, my rules are subject to change at any time.”

She sighed miserably. It only served her right after having said he failed her. “Yes, well, just an FYI, Mr. Rule Maker, I signed an agreement that stated your house, your rules. Fingering myself at work isn’t in your house, so technically I don’t have to abide by that.”

“You’re getting awfully ballsy, Ms. Cassidy.” he narrowed his eyes. “Go ahead, then, don’t follow my rule because of a perceived technicality and see what happens. But for your information, I never said no masturbating, I said all your orgasms belong to me. Again, you’re speaking out of turn and assuming things, because my newest rule only states for you to play with yourself and nothing about coming. I never said I was going to allow you to orgasm without me, therefore, I’m not having you break any of my previous rules.”