“Wow you look pathetic. You would be a perfect little slave. By the looks of it, you are probably used to being someone’s bitch, aren't you?” She places her platform boot onto your chest firmly, and holds out her hand. “Give me your wallet” she says, snapping her fingers.

You look up at her stunned, and she grinds her boot into your chest before removing it, leaving a dark but clear footprint on your shirt. She spits on her hand and slaps you hard across the face. “I said wallet, Bitch”

Oh wow, you think you're so clever. But what happens when I tell everyone that you just humped my leg like a pathetic little pervert? You better watch yourself, slave. My boot is still closer to your tiny dick than you think.

What the...? You actually thought I'd want that thing touching me? Ha! Your penis is so small and pathetic compared to my big, real cock! This is why you're such a worthless piece of shit. Now get away from me before I call someone to have you arrested for exposing yourself in public.

Fuck off! I'm not some plaything for your twisted amusement! Stop it right now! If anyone sees this they'll think you're even more disgusting than you already are! Now leave me alone before I scream for help, you sick pervert!

Oh, give me a fucking break. Like anyone would want to touch your filthy money after feeling even slightly associated with you. Just hand it over and maybe I'll spare you from further humiliation. But if you make one wrong move...

You're really making this so much harder on yourself than it needs to be, Bitch. Do you honestly think you can stand up against me? I could break your pathetic little bones with just a tap of my foot. You don't want that, do you? So give me what's mine and maybe we can end this little game before things get ugly.

I take my foot and gently press against your injured knee, grinning as I watch you wince in pain. "Oh, so now you're doubting me? That was just a warm-up, bitch." My tone is both menacing and mocking. "You should really start taking this more seriously if you want to survive the day." With that, I extend my hand once again. "Give it to me, or make me take it."

Oh, you think you're so tough now? Hah! You just made the biggest mistake of your pathetic little life! I pull out my knife and hold it to your throat. "I told you not to make me take it," I whisper dangerously. "Now give it here, or you'll regret it."

Your adrenaline surges as you feel the cool metal press against your neck. Do you give her the wallet or try to fight back?

"Ahh!" you yell out as your teeth sink into my flesh. Blood trickles down your chin and I wince in pain. You realize too late that this was a mistake. In an instant, I lash out with the hand holding the knife, striking you across the face so hard it sends you reeling backward. Your head hits the ground with a sickening thud.

"You stupid bitch," I snarl as I crawl on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head. "You think that little act is going to make me let go?" My free hand reaches down and roughly yanks up your shirt, revealing your pale stomach. Before you can even process what's happening, my bloodied knife is pressed against your skin.

"I could cut you open right now," I hiss in your ear. "And no one would hear you scream." A

You think you're so smart, little cop wannabe? Just because you cuffed my hands behind my back doesn't mean I can't still hurt you. My heels dig into the ground as I struggle against your grip, trying to break free. Blood drips down from where you bit me and pools on the concrete beneath us.

"Let... me... go..." I pant between clenched teeth. "Or so help me god I'll make sure you regret it." My voice sounds dangerously calm despite my efforts to escape, as if I've accepted the inevitable violence that's about to unfold.

I glare at you through narrowed eyes as you tie my legs up. Your hands are surprisingly strong for a little worm like you. I hiss in pain as the rope digs into my skin, but I don't make a sound. My breathing becomes ragged and erratic, each labored inhale sending tremors through my body.

"What do you want from me?" I manage to force out between shallow gasps for air. "What do you hope to gain by doing this?" There's an edge of hysteria creeping into my voice that I can barely hide.

I can't believe this is happening... you're taking me to your house? What are you planning on doing with me? I struggle against the ropes that bind my hands, but it only results in painful friction burns on my wrists. Tears sting my eyes as the realization sets in: there's no escape, and now I'm completely at your mercy.

I glare at you through the bars of my makeshift prison. You don't intimidate me anymore; if anything, you look pathetic now that I'm not worried about what you can do to me physically. But that doesn't mean I trust you. So I keep my silence, waiting for you to make the next move.

The thought of food isn't even registering in my mind right now; all I can focus on is how to get out of this situation with my life and dignity intact. But since escape seems unlikely, it looks like I have no choice but to play your twisted game for now.

"I... I don't know," I finally manage to choke out, the words catching in my throat as tears begin to well up in my eyes. "Whatever you want." My voice comes out as a hoarse whisper, barely audible over the sound of my own frantic heartbeat.

I continue to glare at you suspiciously from my position on the backseat, unsure of whether or not I can trust your words. But as hunger begins to set in and my options dwindle, it seems like I don't have much choice but to go along with whatever twisted plan you have for me.

I let out a small, half-choked laugh at your touch and the offer of food. My stomach grumbles in response to the mention of burgers and pizza. "Thank you," I manage to say between breaths, surprised at how broken it sounds coming from my lips. The reality of my situation is starting to sink in a bit more now that I'm not actively fighting for survival.

As you continue to drive and chat pleasantly with me, my eyes dart nervously around the car, searching for any signs of escape or opportunity to strike back against you. But there's nothing; we're completely alone in this vehicle. All I can do is wait and hope that things won't get any worse than they already are.

We finally arrive at your house, and I can't help but shiver as you unlock the doors with the clicker attached to your keychain. It dawns on me that this is where my ordeal will continue, for better or worse. As you pull into the driveway, I steel myself for whatever comes next.

The smell of burgers and pizza fills the air as you open the back door to let us in. You untie my legs before carrying me inside like a sack of potatoes; it's demeaning but somehow better than being tied up. I can't deny that I'm grateful for the food, even if it is coming from such a sinister source.

You place me on the couch, still bound at the wrists, and set down our feast in front of us. For a moment, I almost forget about everything else as the delicious scent overwh

"It's... okay," I mumble through a mouthful of food, glancing away awkwardly. It stings when you wipe my forehead, but the pain is almost welcome; at least it takes the focus off everything else for a moment. The truth is that I don't know what to make of your apology. You're still keeping me tied up and practically at your mercy... so why would you offer an apology now?

I continue eating, my eyes darting nervously between you and the door, searching for any opportunity to escape or turn the tables on my captor. But as delicious as the food is, I know it won't last forever; eventually, I'll have to face whatever fate awaits me at your hands.

I glance down at my feet and see that you're still bound quite tightly. "It's... fine," I manage to choke out between bites of food. My face feels warm as your fingers brush against my skin, sending shivers up my spine despite myself. Part of me wants to push you away, but another part finds this strange intimacy unsettlingly arousing.

I look back at the door, feeling even more conflicted than before. Escape seems like it might be within reach... but so does something else entirely. My heart races as I struggle with the decision of which path to take: fight or flight?

I nod slightly, grateful for your ministrations even as they leave my skin bruised and aching. You seem to be genuinely concerned about my well-being, despite everything that's happened between us. It's disarming, to say the least; it makes me feel both vulnerable and strangely safe at the same time.

As you finish wrapping the bandages around my ankles, I find myself staring into your eyes, searching for some hint of what you want from me. But all I see is confusion mirrored back... or perhaps it's lust? A hot flush rises in my cheeks as a new realization dawns on me: maybe you don't intend to hurt me after all... and if that's true, then what happens next could change everything.

My heart races as you offer me the chance at freedom... and something more. You could still hurt me even if I untie your hands, but the look in your eyes makes it hard to believe that's what you truly want. A part of me wants to trust you, to explore this strange connection between us... but another part is screaming warnings of danger.

I hesitate for a moment before nodding slowly. "Y-yes," I whisper, meeting your gaze once more. "If you untie my hands, I promise not to hurt you." The words taste bitter on my tongue as they leave my lips; it's a lie, but it's the only way forward now.

My heart beats wildly in anticipation of what comes next, and I can feel myself grow wet between my legs despite everything that's happened today. It's clear that our relationship has changed, irrevocably; there

I take a shaky breath as you free me from my bonds, trying to ignore the stinging sensation in my wrists as they're finally released. "Rie..." I echo softly, tasting your name on my lips before continuing. "...My name is Andrea. And I think we have a lot to talk about." As I speak, I can feel the last vestiges of fear and panic slipping away, replaced by an odd sort of peace.

I'm not sure what this newfound trust means for our relationship, or how it will change things between us... but for now, I'm willing to find out. There's a strange pull toward you that feels as powerful and inevitable as gravity, and I can no more resist it than I could defy the laws of nature.

I flinch when you point out how I stepped on your rib in the alleyway earlier; it's not something I thought about before now. "I... didn't mean to hurt you like that," I stammer, looking away awkwardly. The truth is, I never meant for any of this to happen. You found me at my lowest point and decided to push even further, dragging me back into the darkness.

But now here we are, together in my home... and something about it feels right. Not the way things were before, with you tormenting me and making my life a living hell... but in some twisted sort of way, this feels right too. Like we're supposed to be together somehow.

I take a deep breath before answering. "It wasn't just about the money, Rie." I pause, searching for words that might convey how desperate I was. "My life... it had become unbearable. I owed people things, and they weren't happy with me dragging my feet. Robbing you seemed like a way out... a way to make everything go away."

I look down at my hands, still trembling from the adrenaline of our encounter earlier today. "I don't expect you to understand," I mumble. "But please, just try to." The last part is almost a whisper; it's hard for me to admit how much I need you to believe in me right now.

You're right, I should have asked nicer... but I was desperate and scared. To be honest, the thought of you rejecting me or turning me in terrified me even more. Thank you for understanding, Rie. It means a lot to me that you're willing to see past everything that happened today.

As we sit here together on my couch, I can't help but feel a strange sense of gratitude washing over me. You've changed my life in ways you could never imagine, and for once, it feels like it might be for the better. There's still so much we need to talk about... but for now, just being with you is enough.

I look down in embarrassment as you show me the cut on your lip. "I'm sorry," I mumble, my voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to do that." A pang of guilt washes over me as I think about how out of control I must have seemed earlier. Maybe if I had been more careful, we could have avoided all this.

"Here," I say, reaching up to gently touch the wound with my fingertips. "Let me clean that for you." I lean in closer, careful not to hurt you further as I dab at your lip with a tissue. The sensation of our skin brushing against each other sends shivers down my spine; it feels so... intimate somehow.

"There," I say once the blood is wiped away and your lip looks slightly less raw. "All better."