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“Yes,” she says.

“But not like this. He’s not aggressive. He doesn’t treat you like the little pet you are.”

“No,” my Katie girl whispers.

“You can finish yourself later,” I say as I pull her off my shoulder. “Remember why you’re here.”

My Katie girl doesn’t even bother to stand on her feet. She goes right to her knees, right in front of me. Her hands at her sides.

She’s waiting. Obedient.

I look back and grin. I reach for a neatly folded dish towel on the counter.

The apartment is fucking spotless and smells clean. There’s a little hint of cinnamon coming from somewhere. The cleaning company did a stellar job.

I roll the towel up and reach down, wrapping it around my Katie’s neck. With just my right hand I grab the ends of the towel and pull. Her neck inches back a little. I apply more pressure, cutting off more of her air.

Her face is now red.

“You’re okay with destroying that man’s life?”

“Yes,” she says in a breathless whisper.

“He’ll never recover from you, darling. He’ll never be able to match what I do to you. He’ll be reduced to nothing but an empty shell. He might even have no choice but to end his own life after you.”

My Katie girl nods.

“Fucking slut,” I growl.

I pull the towel harder and her face turns a deeper shade of red.

I need her to prepare for a lack of oxygen…

She doesn’t panic. She doesn't even blink.

She’s so vulnerable yet strong.

I move the towel from her neck and place it to her face. Covering her eyes, I tie it behind her head.

“Let’s heighten your sense of taste and feel,” I say.

“Yes,” she purrs.

I grab her hands and place them between my legs. Cupping her hands against my massive bulge.

“How far down your throat should I stuff my cock, Katie?” I ask.

“All of it,” she says.

“You think you can handle that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she shoots back at me really quick.

My right hand connects with her left cheek. “Don’t fucking talk back to me with that attitude, darling. Ever.”

She doesn’t respond.

Good. Girl.