Page 106 of Texting Dr. Stalker

My cheeks burned in shame. I’d pushed myself to my limit and wouldn’t have gone any further. Thank goodness X texted at the perfect time because I was seconds away from stopping anyway. At least it looked like I obeyed him instead of ran out of courage. I might be craving reckless things to get over the weakness inside me, but I drew the line at masturbating in full daylight in Nana’s garden.

I shivered at the thought of what I must’ve looked like on his cameras. Had I turned him on? Annoyed him? Angered him? He hadn’t texted me back, and I hadn’t wanted to reach out.

I didn’t want to tell him that I was thinking of obeying his other request.

I want you to use my gift and tell me how it goes. In as little or as much detail as you want.

Lowering my e-book, I glanced at the glass toy resting beside me. I’d washed and disinfected it, and it’d been resting on my covers like a tombstone for hours, waiting for me to get up the courage to see if I could eradicate Milton’s monstrosity.

Turning my head, I looked at Peng, fast asleep on my pillow.

He looked so comfy and cosy, I didn’t have the heart to move him from the room, but…I also didn’t think I would be able to attempt an orgasm with him close by. Just the thought of touching myself in that way when the last person to touch me had tried to kill me made my lungs grow tight and pulse skyrocket.

Forget it.

It didn’t have to be tonight.

I could wait.

I don’t have to—

Gritting my teeth, I stopped those thoughts.

Sure, I could put it off. Sure, I didn’t need to do it, but I knew in the depth of my soul this was the first trigger I had to overcome. This wasn’t about pleasure. It was drastic medicine in order to reclaim myself.

With a heavy exhale, I slipped from the bed and snatched the glass dildo.

I used to have my own toy until Milton found it and threw it out. He actually cried when I asked him why he’d thrown away something that belonged to me—going full-on with the dramatics, claiming it challenged his masculinity if I self-pleasured, and it was up to him to give me all my orgasms.

Not that he’d ever given me one.

After his tears, I’d attempted to be understanding and open to trying. Hoping we could communicate a little more and find a way to patch up the holes beginning to show in our relationship.

However, my resentment slowly grew as the lacklustre sex we did have turned more and more one-sided. His half-hearted attempts at making me finish had me recoiling so much, I faked a release just to get him off me.

Once again, shame pounced.

I felt stupidly to blame for the slow breakdown of our relationship even though I knew in my heart no one should have to put up with the passive-aggressive narcissistic behaviour like he’d trapped me with. He’d wrapped his words and mood swings around me so well that I couldn’t see he was boiling me alive until the water was too hot and he strangled me.

Enough!

Let’s get this over with.

Shoving my shoulders back, I padded in my blue satin nightdress into the room that used to be mine. My bed sat in a puddle of starlight, encased by all of Nana’s old furniture that I’d moved in here while painting hers.

Wriggling past her dresser and clambering over a few boxes of her belongings that I needed to donate to Goodwill, I slipped into bed, pulled the covers up to my chin, and clutched the dildo.

You can do this.

Don’t think.

Don’t let your mind get in the way.

A teeny tiny orgasm and you’ll be free.

Nodding along to my peptalk, I slowly hitched up my nightgown and wriggled deeper into the bed.

My breathing ratcheted as I spread my legs, angled the toy X bought me, and cursed the tears that welled, spilled, and rolled hotly down my cheeks.