Janelle's POV
The moment we got back to her place, I knew something was… off.
Mirabel was too quiet.
Too calm.
She didn't touch me the way she usually did. No hand at the small of my back. No teasing comment. Just a soft "go change" and the faint click of her heels walking away.
I should've known I was in trouble.
I should've apologized.
Instead, I stood in her bedroom, holding the box she left on the bed red velvet with a satin ribbon.
Inside?
The toy.
The same one she used that night I couldn't walk straight.
The same one that made me sob into her shoulder, begging her to stop, begging her not to stop, forgetting my own name until all I knew was hers.
And below it… a note.
"Put it in. Try to leave the apartment again… and you won't get to come for a week."
– M.
My legs trembled.
I wasn't sure if it was fear… or excitement.
I put it in.
Slow. Careful. Gasping when it settled deep, warmth blooming between my legs like fire licking through my stomach.
I didn't plan to run.
I just wanted to breathe. Maybe go downstairs, just stand on the balcony for air.
But the moment the front door clicked open, I heard her voice
Cold. Sharp.
"Where do you think you're going?"
I froze. "I-I wasn't."
Click.
The toy buzzed to life.
Low. Teasing.
I whimpered and reached for the wall.
"Mira… Mirabel please."
Another click.
The vibration intensified.
I moaned not loud, but enough for her to hear. Enough to make her sigh.
She walked over slowly, took my chin, and tilted my face to hers.
"You don't get to flirt with other women."
"I wasn't—ahh—flirting…"
Click.
"Don't lie to me."
I shook my head, tears brimming.
"I wasn't. "
Click.
"Mirabel !"
She didn't raise her voice.
Didn't say another word.
Just circled me like a predator, pressing the remote between my breasts before sliding her fingers under my dress and cupping me over my panties.
Wet.
Soaked.
She smiled.
"You're not sorry yet. But you will be."
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To be Continued