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He eyed her with interest, specifically a sort of predatory, male interest. “Lift your arms over your head.”

She obeyed instantly. Her pert little tits lifted as well; what little underboobage she had was on display. He smiled like a toddler who’d found a new toy as he traced his fingers over her exposed body possessively.

“Stand on one foot.” She did. The balancing wasn’t easy, but she’d taken some martial arts classes with her dad when she was younger, and that bad been part of it. She was glad she knew how to obey well. She wobbled on her planted foot, but only a little.

“Jump up and down.” She did, her breasts bouncing wildly, fighting not to fall as she bounced on one foot.

“Do jumping jacks.” Emily obeyed, relieved to have both feet under her. She counted them off as she did them.

“Bark like a dog.”

He hadn’t said to stop what she had been doing, so she just added it in. “ARF! Sixteen. ARF! Seventeen. ARF! Eighteen. ARF!”

“Now like a big dog.”

“Twenty. WOOF! Twenty-one. WOOF! Twenty-two. WOOF!”

DJ just watched and laughed at her unabashedly, finally ordering her to a halt after fifty-six. Emily just smiled at him mildly as she caught her breath, eager to complete the next portion of her self-imposed penance.

He gave her plenty of opportunities, obviously elated at the power she’d given him over her. She crab-walked around the room, then bear-walked, then did the splits (frontways and sideways), a few cartwheels… the guy wanted a circus act more than a blowjob, it seemed.

It was nearing 1am before he finally tired of just leering at her. She was in the midst of doing wall-stands, a hand-stand with her feet against the wall, trying to see how wide she could spread her legs in that position. DJ stood over her, gently caressing her thighs, her ass, her pussy. She did her best to think of things that aroused her so she’d be wet for him as he’d no doubt enjoy. Her arms and legs and abs and glutes and even her neck muscles were all on fire from the exertions she’d put them through.

“Emily, do you like to roleplay?” he asked without summary.

She didn’t, as a matter of fact; it had always felt distracting and awkward. Yet her loathing had reached a point where independent thought felt impossible around him. Her answers came automatically as the one she thought he’d most enjoy. She was human garbage, so she deserved nothing better.

“Oh, you know I do.” She tried to smile, even though she was pretty sure he couldn’t see her face in her upside-down position.

He eased her off the wall, then helped her up to her feet. She pressed her naked, sweaty body against his, anxious to hear his next command.

Then he dangled the handcuffs from her costume in front of her eyes.

He didn’t say a word as he walked her across the lounge and closed them around one wrist, then wound the chain through through the bars in the radiator, then put on the other one. Emily was only glad it hadn’t gotten cool enough yet that the radiator was turned on. She could no longer stand up all the way, and whatever she did, her back was presented to him, her sweat-glistening ass thrust out for his amusement.

“You know, any more, people always go along with whatever I want,” DJ said, his words seeming to address her pussy rather than her face. “I thought it might be fun to see what it would be like if they didn’t.”

Comprehension dawned on her. “You… want me to pretend I don’t want it.”

DJ nodded, licking his lips hungrily. She could practically hear his cock twitching in his pants. “Is that OK with you? If that’s too much, that’s fine.”

Emily’s fragile, wounded, chaotic little mind tried to process this. She definitely didn’t want him to fuck her.

She hated him. Which made her hate herself. Which made her want to show she could be better. Which made her want to be good for him. Which, now, meant pretending she hated him. Which she did. Which made her hate herself…

“Yeah, you better fucking let me out of here, you fucking pussy,” she said angrily. “Get these fucking cuffs off me right this fucking second or I swear to God I’ll kill you when I get out of here.”

DJ blinked in surprised, then smiled as he saw the game had begun. Smiles were weird; they didn’t make any sense to her any more. How could anyone smile when the world was so devoid of anything good?

She tried to kick at him, but he was too far away. He maintained his safe distance as he disrobed, and there it was again, that cock she’d sucked on film, that had coated her face and ruined her life. “You asshole! How could you do this to me!” she shrieked.

After a few more vicious-but-ineffectual kicks, she lost her balance and fell to a knee. DJ was on her in a second, grabbing her waist and pulling her up to her standing position, still bent from the cuffs. Emily had taken womens’ self-defense classes; she had a few techniques she could use right now that would at least make him regret this, if not release her altogether. She wanted to. She wanted so bad.

God she was a horrible person.

Instead, she struggled feebly, like the weak, fuckable little slut he wanted her to be.

DJ fucked her. She wasn’t especially wet, but it was enough, and he’d been turned on enough from her display of obedience that her new act of disobedience drove him over the edge in mere minutes. It felt like hours. Hours of despising herself for having to seem to pretend not to mean the things she meant wholeheartedly, baring the ugliest part of herself for his entertainment.

When he came in her and pulled out, she’d never been more relieved. He took a few steps back and watched her sink to her knees, genuinely weeping and trembling.

“Emily… are you… OK? It was just pretend, right? Right? Tell me you’re OK.” His voice, somehow, sounded genuinely concerned. Why would anyone be concerned for her? She was worthless. Not even her own mom could love her any more. Which was good. Emily loved her mom; she deserved a better daughter.

She made herself smile, awkwardly managed to brush the tears from her face. DJ doesn’t want to see me crying. I can still try to be good. That’s all that’s left. “Oh! Yeah, I’m super fine. That was CRAZY hot. Being chained to a radiator and fucked like a little bitch… so fucking HOT.”

He still looked concerned. “You’re… sure?”

Dammit, now she was making him feel guilty again! “What? Oh geez, that was all acting, DJ. Seriously, I loved it.” She nodded earnestly. “You wanna do it again? I’m still so fucking horny for you!” She waggled her ass at him enticingly.

At last, he looked relieved. “Good. I… got a little carried away there. You’re just so damn hot, and I… sorry. Anyway.”

She helped him find the key in its hidden compartment behind the badge and he unlocked her, kissing her sore wrists tenderly. She wanted to vomit, which made her smile all the brighter as she thanked him.

Then she sank to her knees and begged him to let her suck his cock. At this point, he didn’t need much convincing, and didn’t seem to even consider she might not be sincere. It took a while to get him ready again—which didn’t matter, none of her needs mattered compared to his—but before long she felt him twitching in her mouth.

She pulled off at the last minute and aimed him at her face, coaxing every last drop of jizz she could out of him before she was content. He got dressed; she didn’t. She sauntered out of the lounge completely naked, coated in DJ’s spunk, for the second time. She wasn’t even in a hurry. She wanted this—she needed this. DJ followed behind, taking in the sight of her undulating hips as she swaggered like a peacock through the last floor on their rounds.