Page 83 of Taming Scarlet

So I went back into the living room, tossing Hugh’s stuffed lamb across the room a few times before he tired out, before ordering some groceries to have in the fridge again now that we were back.

When that arrived, I put things away, let Hugh out, and silently made my way back into my room, observing Scarlet without her knowing I was looking.

She was struggling already, shifting her weight around on her legs, trying to slacken one arm and raise the other to bring some feeling back into each at a time, but the movement had the clamps pulling, making her hiss and forcing her to adjust her posture again.

Her breathing was quick, her skin pink.

Pleasure was still there, but it wouldn’t be long before the discomfort overtook her.

Only then would she fully submit.

Only then would she be calling me, ready to talk, eager for relief.

Giving her some more time, I grabbed a pair of pajama pants, then went into the bathroom to take a hot shower, washing away the travels, and some of the frustration about the cards.

I got why, at the beginning, she hadn’t said anything. She thought I was just another in a long line of annoyances in her home, watching her life from the sidelines.

But as things moved forward with us, there was no excuse for not telling me something so serious.

Hell, even on aprofessionallevel, there was no excuse.

On a personal one, though? This was unacceptable.

As much as most of my punishments lately had been playful, it was good for the opportunity to show her that some of them weren’t meant for fun.

By the time I finished my shower, shaved, then went back into the room, I expected almost immediate compliance.

Despite making noise as I moved around the room, though, she stubbornly stayed silent.

So I grabbed my phone and climbed into bed, going right to her socials.

And, sure enough, there the fucker was.

My dove.

It looked like in her earlier posts, she was better about deleting and blocking this guy. But because we’d been… occupied for the past two weeks, she’d clearly slipped.

She still posted daily, using various pictures that I’d taken, and even ones she’d taken herself. But she only seemed to engage with the comments for a few minutes, compared to previous posts.

Which meant the comment sections were full of thisMy doveasshole.

Long, rambling comments about her beauty.

Creepy, but harmless.

But under those comments, because he wasn’t getting the attention he wanted, the things he said got decidedly less tame.

Some were more like the note still in my jacket pocket. Starting out loving, then getting bitter and frustrated as they went on.

Others, though, were vile.

Full of a mix of sex fantasies and revenge fantasies for her ignoring him.

This shit wasn’tThat big of a deallike Scarlet claimed.

This shit had to stop.

Once I had her submission on the matter, we were going to find this fucker, and put an end to this.

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