OLAMIDE

“Jason, please…”

He ain’t say nothin’. He just grabbed my wrist, real firm, yankin’ me close like he ain’t even think about it. His dick brushed up against my thigh, hard and hot like it got its own damn heartbeat. I flinched, but he didn’t even blink.

“Watch your tongue, kitten,” he murmured, eyes dead calm like he ain't just pressed his cock on me. “Now say it right.”

“A-Alpha…” My throat felt dry as fuck. “I—I meant to say Alpha, please…”

Yeah, I folded quick. My whole chest tight with dread. The shit flashin’ through his head? Wild. Twisted. Shameful. Things I ain’t even got names for. He wanted all of me—body, mind, soul—like ownin’ me made him hard. Like destroyin’ me was the point. He wanted to pull me apart ‘til I ain’t even recognize myself no more.

He reminded me too much of that sick bastard that used to call himself my foster daddy. But back then, I had college. I had somewhere to run. Now? Ain’t no safe place. Ain’t no light, no exit, no escape. Just him.

Give in, said this voice in my head. That bitch sounded just like me but older, tired, like she already gave up. Give in if you wanna live long enough to understand why the fuck this happenin’ to you.

And that was the fucked-up part—I did wanna live. I wanted to know. So I gave up the fight. I ain't cry, I ain't scream. I just… let it happen.

He guided me back to the bed, and I ain’t resist. He sat behind me, real calm, like he already owned the moment. His hands started undressin’ me—slow, rough fingers draggin’ along my skin like he was feelin’ me out. Each touch lit somethin’ cold and nasty down my spine. I kept my face blank, tryin’ to keep my soul from risin’ up in protest.

The nightdress slipped down my shoulders, slidin’ easy ‘til it bunched at my waist. But he ain’t wait. He gripped the hem and ripped it the rest of the way off—rrrrrip!—and that shit flew across the room like it ain’t mean nothin’. I gasped, arms instinctively tryna cover myself.

He moved to sit in front of me, still naked, not even hidin’ it. His dick stood tall and heavy between his thighs. He looked at me like I was some fuckin’ puzzle he was gonna solve piece by piece.

“You know how to pleasure yourself?” he asked, like he was talkin’ about brushin’ teeth or makin’ breakfast.

My lips parted. “I…” but I ain’t finish the sentence. I didn’t know what was safer—a lie or the truth. Either one could get me punished. And I ain’t trust him not to twist it. My throat tightened. “Please…”

“I asked you a question,” he said, voice still calm, still chill. “Answer it properly. Yes, or no.”

“…Yes,” I whispered, eyes burnin’ with unshed tears. Sayin’ it made me feel sick. Like I’d admitted to somethin’ filthy, even though everybody done it. But around him, that confession was heavy. His eyes dropped to my panties, and his cock twitched, just a little, and my stomach twisted like I was gonna hurl.

“Okay then.” He dragged the words out, eyes stayin’ locked on me. “Show me.”

I flinched like he slapped me. I knew he was gon’ make me do somethin’ like that eventually, but sayin’ it out loud? Hell naw.

But somethin’ snapped. All that silent obedience I been carryin’ like a weight? It cracked right there. I couldn’t hold it in no more.

“I—I can’t…”

He grinned slow, like he been waitin’ for that. “That’s fine. I’ll help—”

“No!” I jerked back, my voice louder than I meant. “I… I can do it.”

My hands shook as I reached down between my legs. My breath caught when my fingers brushed over my mound—my skin was sensitive, already slick. The hair was all stubbly from tryin’ to shave it too often with them dull-ass razors they gave me. I slid my fingers along the lips, feelin’ how wet I already was, and that just made it worse.

I should’ve been dry as hell from the fear, but my clit was already hard, twitchin’ with need like my body ain’t got the memo that I was in danger. My nipples was stiff, tinglin’, the cold makin’ my skin goosebump all over.

Jason watched me like a man watchin’ a play—no rush, no need to join in. Just enjoyin’ the scene. That made it worse. His face wasn’t lecherous or loud—he just sat there like I was a pet learnin’ a trick.

I slid two fingers inside myself. I couldn’t believe how tight I was clenched. My walls squeezed me like they didn’t wanna let go. “Uhhhnn…” I moaned, tryin’ to keep my eyes on his. The shame crept in fast. It clung to my skin like sweat, but I couldn’t stop now. My hips rocked against my hand, and I kept goin’, rubbin’ my clit in little circles, faster and faster. I needed it to end. I needed it to mean somethin’.

Jason tilted his head, still silent. Still watchin’.

I moaned louder—“Mmmhh… f-fuck…”—my thighs shakin’ as the heat built in my belly. I could feel myself gettin’ closer, my walls clutchin’ my fingers tighter with every second. I spread my legs wide, feelin’ the slickness drip down my thighs. I knew I looked pathetic. I knew I looked like what he wanted me to become—a filthy, obedient little slut who came on command. And somehow that made me hotter.

“Come get it,” I whispered without even meanin’ to. “Come take it. F-fuck me like I’m a—”

I gasped, back archin’ as the orgasm hit. “Ooohhh… shiiit…” I panted, feelin’ it ripple through me like an electric wave. My pussy spasmed around my fingers, clenchin’ hard, the sound of my slick echoing in the quiet room—schlick, schlick, schlick. My toes curled, my eyes rolled up, and my mouth hung open as I rode it out.

Then silence.

He clapped. One slow-ass clap. Then another. I blinked, dazed as hell, chest heavin’ like I just ran track. I tried to sit up, but he climbed over me, lettin’ his weight press me into the mattress. I tensed—what now? My heart thudded in my throat.

He didn’t move right away. Just laid there, arms cagin’ me in.

“And here I thought I was trapped with a vanilla virgin,” he said with a little snort.

“I…”

He cut me off. “Goodnight.”

Then rolled to the other side, pullin’ the blanket over himself like nothin’ happened.

I laid there, starin’ up at the ceiling, body still twitchin’ from aftershocks. I ain’t know what the fuck just happened. I ain’t know what the fuck he was.

But I knew one thing… he could’ve fucked me.

He ain’t.

He chose not to.

I ain’t know if that made him better… or worse.

Sleep dragged me down slow, my limbs too heavy to move, my mind buzzin’ with confusion and heat and leftover shame. Whatever came next, I wasn’t ready.

But I’d survive.

Somehow.