He Is Tired Of Me Already

Things keep changing more and more, and these changes are as frightening as they are reassuring. I'm unsure how to understand them, but that's how it is.

My parents resumed their activities together. My dad did not even need my mom to ask him to accompany her in her activities. He even managed to drop her off at her office to spend more time with her.

Mom's driver seems to be enjoying the whole situation. He has much more time to go about his activities, like courting our youngest staff member. He will not succeed in his quest. He's doing it wrong because she's tough to please.

He should ask my dad for advice because he's doing well to win my mom back. He acts like he's her assistant or something.

He knows her agenda by heart without forgetting that he has a tonne of things to do on his side, but it seems that he doesn't care about them as long as the attention he gives to my mother works to attract her good graces.

The family dinners start again for my misfortune, of course, because every time I think I'm going to have to spend hours smiling and acting like a puppet, smiling and playing the pretty hearts, I feel a weight on my stomach which prevents me from breathing.

I could have avoided attending by pretending to have something to do in college or anything believable, but I can't. Not only do I have no Zack to back up my little story, but I also don't know what I would have invented either, and then Quincy has been avoiding me like the plague for two weeks already.

I don't know why he does that either, but Cody wrote to me and asked me to give him some time, as he is someone who often needs time away from all things human, so I stayed at home bored, thinking about all sorts of tedious and sad stories.

I no longer write or call him. He needs some space, so I give him his space. To tell the truth, it is not with heartfelt content that I have done it since I saw him with his friends. As usual, he was chatting with them, and the handsome Ethan was perched on his lips.

It looks like he's starting to come back from the shock that Aim's true face put him through, which made me realize that I'm the one who makes him uncomfortable. The presence of others doesn't bother him, but mine. Maybe that's the end of our story.

It was too good to be true. He was already tired of me, so imagine if we had gone through all the stages. It would have been worse.

I have dark circles under my eyes, can't sleep properly, and can't even surprise him. An annoying little laugh escapes my lips despite me. I feel like I'm useless for anything.

I'm in front of my dressing room, emerging in my gloomy thoughts, reliving the scene of him and his stupid friends. They were laughing, and he seemed to like the conversation. I would have wanted to be able to listen to a crumb of what they were saying to each other that made them laugh so much.

He doesn't laugh easily, that's for sure, and the things that make him laugh are rare, not to say non-existent, and he didn't seem bored.

But I had to run away before any of them spotted me. After all, I didn't want him to think I was spying on him.

And Zack himself has made it his mission to avoid me too. I looked for it well, so I don't blame him. He only gives me a taste of my own medicine.

We are all having brunch together in a few hours, but I still can't decide what to wear. It's not because I don't have enough; it's just because I don't want to find myself stuck between my grandparents, my father, and Zack's sisters.

I am in no mood to put up with their bullshit and mockery of whatever nature it may be.

Many things have happened to me, too, during these two weeks. Long before that, my old dance school contacted me. They wanted to know if I would be willing to audition for the show they were preparing.

I hesitated. I didn't know what to answer because I didn't want this whole thing between my father and my mother to become tense again, so the only person available to me to discuss it was Aim.

Strangely, I didn't expect him to answer me positively. I realized I wanted him to forbid me so I could have an excuse not to respond to their invitation. Knowing how jealous and possessive he is, I wanted to use that to give me the courage to say no. But he didn't otherwise...

We were in bed after one of those innumerable hot and dizzying caressing sessions that never led to penetration, cuddling, and storytelling.

He likes to listen to stories, and I often tell him some while stroking his hair. We do it, especially when he hasn't done anything to me that could deprive me of my senses or drain all my vital energy.

I tell him stories I read in my childhood and those I still read today. I read novels for adults sometimes, but he prefers those for children. He laughs and asks questions.

I thought I had nothing to offer him because he already had everything, but I realized he was still a six-year-old child in the beautiful body of an adult. So, I started looking for the most beautiful children's stories I've read and found new ones to read and tell him. It's a joy to see him like this and to feel useful.

That afternoon, I was snuggled up in his embrace when I told him about the invitation. He stiffened a bit before he propped himself up on his elbow so he could look me in the eye.

When I looked up at him, his gaze was crystal clear. He was not confused or upset by what I told him.

" So, is it a good thing? You liked dancing, you always told me, but you stopped because of the dispute between your parents. Accept if they want you today, despite leaving school in a hurry. That's a good thing, right? "

"What, are you sure of what you're saying?"

"But yes, why? What did you expect? "

"Nothing. I just wanted to tell you before I make a decision. "

"OK, thanks for thinking of telling me, darling."

"And then, I didn't leave dance school in a hurry. I thought about it before doing it. "

"Hm, if you say so, then I will have the chance to see you dance in person this time." I didn't know he wanted to see me dance live.

"What? You wanted to see me dance. Why didn't you tell me? "

"You gave me your videos." That was enough, and I didn't know I could ask you despite that."

"Of course, you can, silly kid. I'm yours, sweetie. You can ask me many things, like whatever you want, don't keep them to yourself. If I can do what you ask, I will do it. If I can't, I'll tell you. OK?"

" OK, so next time I'll tell you."

"Good, so it tells you, I will show you a little."

"Yes, I would like to see you," he replied with childish excitement that might be shocking when you think of what he can do with his mouth and fingers.

Everything here is done with voice control, and the music I like to listen to these days is "Love Me More by Sam Smith." I told Cody the music. With these words, he sat down quickly in the big bed, excited like a kid. His eyes sent lightning when he saw me move to get off the bed.

It wasn't the music that made me spin around the room, but it was his gaze on me. He followed me and my every move. It was the first time I felt so close to my audience. In fact, I feel connected to him. It's as if he sends me the waves that pass through his body as Sam Smith's voice amplifies the room.

I know all too well that I love to dance, but that was something else. I become possessed under his sultry gaze, and I am aware of his feelings and mine as well.

I had wings. His gaze gave me those wings, and I had never felt that way in all my life. He jumped out of bed and took me in his arms when I finished. He carried me to the couch, putting me down without giving me time to breathe.

It was the first time he went so far as to touch and kiss me everywhere with his angry and greedy mouth. This time I thought we were finally going to do it. Still, when he arrived at the lower part of my body, erected like a piece of wood, he just contented himself with finishing kissing me feverishly, making me scream uncontrollably and moan in pleasure. Then, he stopped, leaving me panting and on the verge.

I had tears in my eyes, so he wiped them and kissed me. Then he carried me to the shower, where he slipped me into the jacuzzi. We stayed there for a while until I calmed down.

I was sitting astride him, my head buried in the crook of his neck as he stroked my back. I was stark naked, not even scared, when Cody brought us a chilled bottle of champagne.

When he was sure that I had come to my senses, that I was master of myself again, he served me champagne. He gently untied me from him with a smirk. His gaze was damn hot... wonderful, incredible, and I was more shy than usual, and I blushed without being able to look away from him.

As you already know, I'm not allowed to turn my head away when blushing.

That's when I understood that I could make him lose control, push him to let his guard down when he makes love to me, and cause him to go further, bringing him to the place I wanted him to come to without asking him.

He says I'm sweet, so I plan to show him how sweet I can be. I went shopping; I bought a lot of new clothes. To be honest, I splurged unbelievably. I bought daring underwear for men and lingerie for girls that would look good on me.

I bought clothes that I wouldn't dare wear with my dad around. I bought them for him for when I'm with him alone.

But after this madness I did, by buying those unreasonable and disturbing clothes, he didn't talk to me, became distant, didn't answer my calls or messages, and ignored me while he continued to see his friends.

I must say this situation started after that horrible night. I had an appointment with the other dancers. In fact, they invited me to a short welcome meeting. That's a habit we have established between us. It was a way for them to see if I was still worth it and if I was still as good as before.

I talked to Aim about it. He was not very enthusiastic about this news, so I decided not to attend the meeting. I should join them in a bar where we often went to refresh ourselves and have a good time.

We often go there after our successful shows or after a hard day of rehearsal, or sometimes it's just to familiarize ourselves and change the scenery.

We often meet other school dancers who also come for the same thing, and most often, we end up in challenges of all kinds. The Dance Art Hall club is renowned for its dancers, who frequent it and are the subject of its popularity in the heart of the artistic community.

On the very day of the meeting, I received an email from one of the teachers, Aleksei, who asked that I be called on for the audition. He asked me to join them because they had an announcement to make.

I didn't tell my mom I auditioned for the upcoming show.

I didn't want to worry her. With Aim, I could go to rehearsals without worrying about her finding out or my dad. So I went out without telling them where I was going or telling Aim, and it was already late, and I was late. I received the email too late. I did not have time to call Aim and tell him about it.

My mother should have thought that I was going to join Aim. I passed her in a breeze at the bottom of the stairs, kissed her cheek without slowing down, and told her while running that I was coming back without specifying where I was going.

When I arrived in the parking lot, it was deserted and calm. Usually, it is crowded and full of laughter, and you can often feel the excitement and sex in the air.

These young dancers are always excited that they can set fire to every place they put down their feet.

I parked my car and took one last look at my appearance. I didn't want my appearance to be sloppy after a long time without seeing them, although I never got sloppy as I had to run like a poor devil, so I needed to check my outfit one last time before finding them inside.

I was satisfied with my look, so I turned off the ignition and got out of the car. I was a few steps from the vehicle when six men emerged from the darkness of the parking lot to surround me.

I froze, watching them approach me like hungry beasts, as panic invaded me like a damn virus. They laughed demonically, sending shivers down my spine, my skin scrawling.

"So what do we have here, guys?" One not too far from me intervened. I can even smell the smell of cigarettes and his stinky breath on my neck. I had disgusting retching, but I kept myself from throwing up.

"It looks like we have the jackpot tonight." Another one picked up while laughing. He was spinning his tongue and rubbing his hands together.

"This little toy is delicate." We will mess with it and throw it away when we are done with it. "

"Yeah, we're going to have fun, guys. I'm sure he's used to it; he won't break easily and feel any pain. Otherwise, it would be a real shame, don't you guys believe it? "

"We don't have time to discuss; let's hurry and get out of there before someone else arrives."

This voice was deep and sinister. The person spoke right behind me, which made me jump.

I can defend myself very well against two guys up to three, but going up to six is ​​a sick thing. Not to mention that I am at a disadvantage against them; they are tall and solid, and I can see from their way of walking and moving that they must weigh tonnes.

"I'm screwed!" is what I screamed in my head, unable to utter a single word. Two years ago, after being named " etoile," I was in a similar situation, but I was leaving school when four men attacked me.

I thought they wanted my money, watch, and phone. I gave them all, but they started laughing like those too.

Before I knew or understood what was happening, one of them threw himself at me violently. I fall into the vacuum, losing my balance. The others rushed to join him. They said: "We must hurry before someone arrives."

One of them started picking up my things: my bag, my purse, and my watch, while the other three struggled against me to tie me up.

"Stop struggling, you vermin. We know very well that you like cocks and nasty things, so we'll give you until you're satisfied. "

" Don't be shy, and we know you're not timid. A guy who likes sucking cocks can't be bashful, right? "

"Yeah, that's right, we're going to celebrate him tonight. Let's hope he doesn't break in the first round. He's so delicate for a boy."

"Don't worry, a man is still a man, even if he looks like a flower, but deep down, he is a root. He can endure more than he lets others see. "

"Tie him up." He's struggling like a tigress; I'm going to get even more excited to get rid of all this ferocity and make him unrecognizable. "

"I'm going to love tearing him down like the bitch he is. We don't need this filthy thing in our society."

By luck or magic, the school parking lot was deserted that night too. While tying me up, they kept saying what they would do to me. I prayed with all my being that someone would come to my rescue or appear just so they could get scared and run, but none of that happened.

We don't always get what we want, and our prayers are not always heard. It is a hard truth, but it is life and the reality of human beings.

They put something in my mouth to keep me from making a lot of noise. They didn't want me to attract people's attention. They put me in a van and took me somewhere else.

They arrived at a rather dark place, out of sight, and stopped the van. They undressed me; let's say, they started tearing my clothes and beating me.

They told me: a man can't be so delicate while hitting me; they're going to make an honest man out of me tonight. That's when someone arrives. Nobody saw it happen, not even me.

I was too scared to open my eyes and see what would happen to me; I was afraid to read the satisfaction in their hooded eyes and the wicked smile that appeared on their faces.

I didn't even realize they stopped hitting me; the scary words had faded, and I didn't realize it until someone else pulled me out of that hellish van, and my assailants squirmed in pain. My savior drove me to the hospital.

I woke up in the hospital the next day. Nobody knows what happened to them. All I remember of the one who saved me was that he wore a peculiar perfume; he or she had a smell that made my nostrils itchy.

I didn't see his face; I didn't have much time left to pass out when this person pulled me out of this damn situation. When I felt safe, all my strength left me, and I passed out in his arms with the weird smell burning my nostrils.

He must not be able to afford something more expensive and less disturbing than this perfume, yet no one came to claim compensation for saving me.

My dad said I made it all up because I wanted attention, and I wanted him to pity me. According to him, anyone who knew who I was would come and ask them for money, even if it was not at home but at his office, to ask him for rewards for helping me.

He wasn't scared or cold-eyed to say that I planned everything myself. His tongue didn't even quiver when he said that bullshit despite my state.

So to him, I'm some kind of psychopath willing to hurt himself so that he can look at me.

He is foolish and delusional. Why would I do such a thing if, since I was thirteen, I had given up the idea that he would one day see me as his son?

Anyway, it's all crazy, and I have the impression that these guys are the same ones who attacked me the first time. They say almost the exact same words, except that now there are six of them.

Without even realizing it, I was dressed, and I was shocked by what I was wearing. I'm wearing a set of these new outfits I bought to knock Aim off his mind.

If he likes my delicate and pretty figure and doesn't mind me being me, I can show him that I can be even sweeter than sugar and honey. I want him to fuck, so I'll do everything to make it happen, like wearing those sultry clothes when I am with him.

A mischievous smile appeared on my lips, and my dark circles almost disappeared with the set I found myself in. I am shining!

I bought accessories such as earrings, necklaces, and anklets to complete my set of clothes, Pearls, multiple chain layers, and so on...

Without thinking much more or thinking about the shock I will cause others, I apply myself to finishing wearing the last touch to my fabulous look.

And as I thought when buying them, it's insane... I am insanely stunning.

I'm mind-blowing. Sorry mum, maybe I lost my mind for real this time.