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Published by svartalfheim in the blog svartalfheim's blog. Views: 98

Blargh, attempts to get out of a rut where my mind doesnt want to play. It is awful but ohwell.


Freya sat in this mans bed. Shaking her head all she could think was how, she had been lured in again. This man wasn't even special. Good with words, handsome, trouble. Licking her lips Freya noticed her mouth was extremely dry, chokingly so. Hearing him stumble about, she decided she should possibly make an appearance 'Would be rude not to' she grumbled. Long legs feeling rather tender, another reminder as to why she came back to him, amazing sex, she trod delicately around the room, looking for atleast some knickers. White lace, classy, rather beautiful really. Shame they weren't hers, oh well they would do.

With a small shred of decency required, Freya glided out of the room. Long blonde hair, though badly matted, was placed cunningly over her breast's. Swan like neck wearing a wonderous necklace of love bites. Delicate hands caressing the objects she passed. 'Its much more stylish than I remember,' Ivy green eyes took in all the detail. Swooping into the kitchen, there he was. Suited up already, either she wasn't worth seconds or he was a very busy man.

"Going so soon?" Freya playfully questioned, he turned, his eyes, almost black, seemed to glare back at her.

"Surely that is a question I'm supposed to be asking you?" Harsh words, for a playful remark. "Besides, should'nt you be on the bed waiting for me to return?,"

Stunned she just stood there, feeling evermore vulnerable by the second. The man started to walk towards her, the closer he got, the larger he became. Freya was so incredibly nervous she could feeling her right arm starting to twitch with fear. Towering over her, a smirk crossed his face, a hand moving across her body, a slight squeeze over her breasts, outlining her jaw when suddenly he had grasped her cheeks roughly between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to pout. Freya started to breathe quickly her hands trying desperately to remove his grip.

"Be sure to be in that bed, washed and presentable" Growled the man. Freya attempted to nod but her head was being held still. Releasing her face he slapped her buttocks before striding out of his apartment.

Stunned, Freya ran to the bathroom, sobbing. After a couple of hours, she composed herself, got showered dressed and left. 'I won't take any threats' She thought. Getting into a taxi she relaxed, though a little shaken over what happened, feeling somewhat pathetic for crying but relieved she left. Once she got back to her own flat, she changed into her nightwear and snuggled down into her soft bed. All of a sudden her phone was bleeping out loudly. A message. YOU LEFT.


Blarhh next time I shall drink wine whilst attempting to give myself a motivational boost
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