Twisted Confessions

Chapter 23

"I think Scarlett has my acceptance letters."

He looked at me coolly, leaning against the doorframe, with his arms crossed across his chest.

"Do you have proof? Or are you just being a spiteful bitch?"

It was like a punch straight to the gut. I hated myself for feeling hurt.

"Fuck you."

I stormed past him and strode into Scarlett's room, checking every nook and cranny, but coming up empty. I shook my head. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Either I wasn't accepted or they still had to send me the letters.

"Do you feel better about yourself now?" Geoff asked.

I gritted my teeth and ignored him, and for some reason decided to lift the mattress off Scarlett's bed.

My heart stuttered when I saw two envelopes between the mattress and bed frame.

I opened both to see they were mine. They were from Chicago State University and University of Minnesota. I jumped and squealed in joy, dancing around for a few minutes till I felt his stare on me.

I clutched the letters to my chest and gave him my most scathing look.

"I fucking hate you Geoff Vasily." I hope he burnt into ashes with my glare.

His eyes flared and jaw clenched.
"Get your ass to the confession room."

I laughed. "You have some nerve."

"Make sure to come after Scarlett. I need to teach her lesson too."

When he turned his back to me, I didn't think. I pounced on him and he stumbled, putting his hands in front of him to keep himself from falling, but with my weight on his back, we both fell down and wrestled with each other. Me, throwing punches everywhere and anywhere, while he restrained me. My letters were safely tucked into my bra and Geoff stared at me, before pulling something from his pocket.

I recognized it as the black leather collar. He showed me something silver he pulled from the collar. I hadn't seen it before, probably because he tucked it inside the collar.

I took a moment to read it and furiously started thrashing in his arms, trying to scratch him after I read it.

Property of Geoff Vasily.

He quickly clipped it on me and attached a leash to it.

I glared at him on my haunches as he stood up and loomed over me.

He put his hands inside my shirt, taking out my letters. He ran the edges of the envelopes under his nose and tucked them into his pockets.

"I should burn these for touching your tits."

"You're messed up."

"I am seriously angry with you Ramara. So, if you know what's good for you, you'll get to the confession room, crawling."

I tipped my chin up. "If I don't?"

He put his hand inside his pocket and watched my throat as my collar tightened, cutting off my air supply.

I clawed at the collar frantically, before saying the words. "I....will."
He did something and the collar immediately loosened.

I gave him a look which I hope, would convey my feelings to him. I knew if I spoke something he didn't like, he'd choke me again.

He tugged on my leash and my whole body flushed as I crawled. God, this was humiliating. We reached the room and he kicked it open, waiting for me to crawl inside before locking it behind me.

He walked over to the throne and sat, knees spread apart, staring at me.

"Bless me daddy for I have sinned." I said through gritted teeth.

"Confess."

"I tackled you."

"Correct. What was your other sin."

"There was no other sin daddy." Bastard.

"Daddy doesn't like it when his dorogoy tells him that she hates him. It hurts his feelings."

I scoffed at that. He threw a white bag in the air and it landed at my feet. I peered inside and saw a bunch of colorful scraps of lace. Lingerie.

"Try them on. Give me a show."

"No." I stood up. The collar started tightening and I shrieked.

"Fine!" The collar started loosening.

This was the same man who drove me to and from school. The same man who found me in the woods. The same man who took care of me when I was sick. The same man who bought me a car because I didn't have a proper means of transportation. The same man who took my virginity. The same man who carried me to his bed because he slept better beside me. The same man who wears a gem the exact shade of my eyes on his finger. The same man who makes my heart beat faster and the same man who infuriates me. Dammit.

I rummaged through the bag, peeking up at him every now and then, seeing the prominent bulge in his slacks and I didn't even try anything on yet.

I managed to find a matching set. The tags were still intact and they were enclosed in plastic. I stripped off my shirt, jeans and Doc Martens. I saved for six months to buy those. Next went by bra and panties.

My cheeks were heating up. I quickly put on the black lace bra, slipped on the matching panties, garter belt and stockings.

"Ta da! Do you like it daddy?" I said sardonically and twirled.

By the time I faced him, he whipped his dick out and started stroking the stiff length. My mouth gaped open. He was jerking off in front of me as if it was the most common occurrence.

"Next."

I tried purple lace, pink lace, white lace, red lace. He must've liked the red lace because a bead of precum trailed down his length after seeing me in that set.

While he was watching me, I was watching him stroke his dick. I was so ashamed, but I couldn't look away. The worst part was that I was drenched by the time I finished trying on all the sets and I really wanted him inside me. I didn't care how, I just needed him somewhere, but he had the habit of discarding me after he fucked me. So I just stood there naked, embarassed by the arousal dripping down my thigh.

Of course, his eyes latched on to it.

"Come here."