My Boss. Part 7
I crawled over the luscious carpet into the bathroom, the tile cold underneath my hands and shins. Congratulating me on being so good, he gave me permission to stand and enter the warm shower to rinse. Inside, he delicately traced my body with a soapy cloth, wiping away all of the sweat from earlier.
He whispered sweet, comforting phrases and promised me everything I wanted as long as I was good and as long as I called him Daddy. I felt like a princess in that moment and smiled wide, excited for the relationship that was about to develop between us. As his lips met my skin, whispered his name repeatedly, relishing the sound of it in my mouth. My Daddy, I thought. Mine.
Needless to say, work was awkward the following Monday as the whispers in the office grew loud enough for me to hear. I wasn't sure what exactly happened to me over the weekend, but I was stronger than ever. This strength turned into a stern look that shot its way over my shoulder and effectively silenced
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