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She had to watch as her life was destroyed by the man in that chair. Her husband was dead, and so was her son, courtesy of the man. Courtesy of Tijean.“I know it’s been a few years since you’ve seen anyone play, but the rules of the game are pretty simple.” He stood from the chair, and into the light. He was tall. Muscular. Chiseled. His body, from his olive-colored skin to his six pack to his cock that swung out at over six inches before it was even hard was the very essence of male perfection. “Three strikes, and you’re out. I made that incredibly clear.” He walked forward until he stood just in front of her. His cock was exactly eye-level to her, and he made sure that it was the center of her attention. He reached down, and wrapped his fingers around a little gold amulet that hung around her neck. With one quick snap, her broke the cord that held it and tossed it aside, on a writing desk that overlooked his kingdom. A dark realm of chaos and disorder. “You’re not going to warn. I lit a cigarette and watched the smoke escape from the cracked window. The smell lingered in the air and the taste coated my mouth. And for that moment my mind went counterclockwise. Almost like a silent movie, I watched it. My face and my breasts being pressed firmly against the wall. Feeling like I too may become part of the paint. But loving every fucking second of it. My pussy getting so damn wet when he snatched me by my hair and pressed my ass to the front of his jeans. He was the only man I would let touch me that way. And I thought I might be crazy, that a part of me wanted to feel so weak beneath him. That I wanted nothing more than to submit to him. He talked to me so gentle, yet he wanted nothing more than to hear me whimper and gasp every time his hands wrapped around my throat. And he leaned into my ear and whispered, “do you want me to leave a mark?” And I did, more than anything. I wanted him to leave his hand prints on my neck and on my chest. I wanted to lift my.
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