She was afraid to let on that she didn't remember anything, although she had a suspicion that Jack knew. The way that he had explained things to her, where her clothes were, where his office was, suggested that it wasn't a secret to him. But how much did he really know? How would he react if she told him that she had absolutely no recollection of anything in her life preceding waking up that morning?
She looked around the house, taking his invitation to explore. There appeared to be no photos anywhere, nothing personal to suggest that they had a history together or even anything from Jack's own history, without her. She didn't dare open drawers or closets in the bedroom, afraid of crossing the line. She stood at the bathroom mirror again, looking at herself, feeling like she didn't even recognize her own face. She was still bothered by all the bruises and marks on her body. The cut lip, another cut she hadn't noticed before on her head, receding into her hair, the strange bruises on the insides of her arms.
She ran her fingers through her damp hair, pulling it back with her hands, but not finding anything to tie it with. There was nothing in the drawers classified as hers nor in the bathroom. Did she not wear her hair up ever? It seemed strange. She definitely had the urge to get it up off her neck.
She made the bed and laid down on top of the covers, feeling tired, a deep kind of tiredness that accumulated over a prolonged period of stress, rather than one bad night of sleep. She searched her brain for anything she knew about herself, coming up empty. Somewhere along the line, deciding to search specific times of her life and wracking her brain for a memory from elementary school, she drifted off into sleep.
She dreamt about walking to school with her mom, holding onto the hand of a faceless woman in jeans and a t-shirt, the same auburn hair as hers pulled back in a low ponytail with a scrunchie. She struggled to keep up with the woman, her little feet barely able to keep pace. They were walking along a busy city street with a large number of pedestrians and noise from cars in the streets. She kept trying to look at her mom's face, but it seemed blurred or featureless. It was frustrating and they seemed to be walking endlessly, the school still not coming into view.
Nicole drifted out of the dream slowly to the feeling of a hand on her breast. It was pleasant. The hand cradled her breast while gently twisting her nipple between thumb and index finger. She opened her eyes and turned her head to see Jack. His hand was underneath her t-shirt and he had a small smile on his face.
"I have some rules here and the first rule is that there are no clothes on the bed. If you're in bed to sleep or take a nap or whatever, clothes are off." She nodded. "Clothes off, Nicole." It took her a second to realize that he meant now.
She sat up on the bed, grabbing the hem of her shirt pulling it up over her head. It didn't even occur to her to decline, to say no to Jack, to get up and leave. None of those things entered her head. He said no clothes on the bed and she went along with it. He watched her shimmy out of her sweatpants and panties and she realized then that he was naked too. She dropped her clothes on the floor next to the bed, then laid back down on the pillow looking over at Jack.
"Good girl," he praised her.
"How old am I?" The words jumped out of her mouth before she had a chance to restrain them. Her heart sped up as soon as they were out. She pressed her lips together, looking into Jack's face. He didn't seem angry with her question, but he hesitated to answer for a moment. Did he not know either?
"You're eighteen," he told her. That felt incredibly right to Nicole. It was the first thing that felt so right, more so than her name or even her face that both felt unfamiliar. Yes, she was definitely eighteen. "Now, the second rule is..." he sat up on his knees, drawing attention to his massive erection by taking it into his hand and stroking it. "If I'm hard, you need to take care of it. Every time." He looked at her face and she nodded. His statements felt non-negotiable. "And I get to choose how," he added. "Tell me you understand that, Nicole."
"I understand," she confirmed.
"Good." He stroked his cock in front of her, moving closer to her face. "That means I choose which of your holes is getting fucked and in what position," his words were harsher now, igniting a small spark of fear inside her. She felt her eyes grow wider as the possibilities ran through her mind. "Right now, I want it in your mouth." She nodded again and he cracked a small smile. "You gotta open your mouth for me, Nicole."
She opened, feeling a slight embarrassment at the fact that she didn't catch on to what Jack wanted her to do immediately. She turned her head, accepting his cock into her mouth, instinctively running her tongue over the tip. Just like with sex, she had a distinct feeling that this wasn't her first time, though she still felt a certain apprehension about doing it. Jack's stiff erection filled her mouth. It was smooth and warm, his skin tasting clean against her tongue. She added a bit of suction, sliding her lips further up the shaft, then pulling back. She strained her eyes up to look at Jack's face. He watched her, his face serious as if he was assessing her. He let her go on for a while longer before he spoke up.
