Back by popular demand and request!! I never intended this story to be this long, but I'm glad people are enjoying this. My intention was to get feedback on my writing style for a fiction novel I will have completed by the end of 2021. So feedback, critique, and requests are welcome!! This is the sad, dark, long, chapter with elements of non consent and BDSM but a HEA. I do not condone the acts in this chapter, however they are meant to demonstrate what is and is not consent in the eyes of the law regarding sexual relations as they are played out in the context of the characters.
I have plans for one more final chapter that will contain a lot more steamy BDSM sex and a lot of legal jargon.
As the months dragged on until the results of my BAR came back, I would like to say that Browning and I grew closer, but it seemed to only turn into a routine where we didn't have time or energy to see each other. We barely even had sex for those few months. I was focused on learning as much as I could from the law firm, but the nagging distance between us was wreaking havoc on my mental health. We had both confessed our love to each other, and I thought those confessions were real, but I was beginning to think she had grown dull with me. Maybe I wasn't the kind of adventurous companion she truly needed, and deserved.
I tried to throw my emotional distress into learning everything from Browning, and even at times, Shawna as well. I was limited in what I could do, because of the waiting BAR results, but they were gracious in coaching and indulging my opinions. Even so far as to letting me sit in with new clients and look over case notes about potential clients. But there was still a clear disparage in the younger associates towards me. I could tell they all knew about my relationship with Browning, and some of them went out of their way to show their discontent for it. I ignored the subtle pokes and leary glances at the office. I understood why Browning didn't even make her position clear, but I wanted her to.
I split my nights between my apartment and Browning's different suites and penthouses. However, she was usually not there when I fell asleep, and was getting ready when I awoke. It was breaking my heart even when she kissed me before leaving. The distance was killing me and I was starting to think I had made the mistake I originally thought I made when I walked into the club under construction. I wanted to trust her, I wanted to know that she had told me she loved me because she meant it. But I wasn't feeling it anymore, and I didn't know what was real or not anymore. What if she had manipulated me this whole time to win over the law firm from Dean? What if I was just another pawn to her growing need for power?
I wanted some time off when the results would be mailed to me. I was anticipating it to be good news and call for a celebration. I had to ask Browning for the time off, and I was worried as the time got closer to the date. She was ahead of me however, when she called me into her office two weeks before the results would be released.
"Please sit down," she gestured to the chair opposite her desk in a professional manner that boiled my blood. I sat and crossed my legs, not sure how to approach this more professional side of Browning when all I wanted was to be in her arms and wipe the lines of stress from her eyes.
"I'm sorry, this has only recently come to my attention," I was waiting for the ball to drop. She was going to break up with me, she was going to fire me, she was going to send me away. This was it.
"I'm going to pay for your apartment for the next year, and whatever other expenses you need until you get on your feet," the tears came from my eyes now as I tried to wrap my head around what she was saying. I couldn't hear all of the words that came out of her mouth as I fell back into myself. I didn't even have the BAR results yet, I was supposed to get them in two weeks. Was she telling me that the results didn't matter? Was she giving up on me? On my career? Did she regret meeting me, mentoring me? Did she even love me?
She didn't even give me a chance to respond as Shawna came in and ushered me out with a cardboard box of my things. I couldn't even look at Browning as the tears streamed down my face. I didn't mistake the glances of approval from the coworkers as I stumbled through the reality of my situation.
When I passed the threshold to the doorway of the building I froze. I didn't even realize that Shawna was hugging me as I dropped all my things on the sidewalk.
"You know she loves you right?" When her presence registered, everything hit me in multitude. I shoved her away hard enough that she fell backwards and I took off on the sidewalk. Obviously she didn't understand what love was. I didn't even think about all the things I left strewn on the sidewalk, they would only be reminders to how useless and naΓ―ve I had become.
I don't remember getting to my apartment as I stumbled onto my bed and let the devastation hit me. I must have cried for a few days, time didn't mean anything and I didn't even care that I missed several shifts at the club. I couldn't go back there even if I wanted to. Browning was clear that she wanted nothing to do with me. She had used me like the formerly named firm had used my mother.
I barely kept myself eating enough to not wither away, but I knew I had lost weight. I ordered food a few times, but over the course of the next few days, and eventual week, it was starting to take a toll on me. I didn't care that someone was banging on my door as it took a few minutes before I even registered the sound as something different than the throbbing in my head. I finally cracked the door, still keeping the chain locked in place.
"Jessica Worthing?" The man was professional and seemed disaffected with his disturbance of my self wallowing. I barely nodded.
"I need a signature," he thrust a clipboard towards the crack in the door. I grasped it and scribbled wanting him to leave me alone quicker than I cared what his purpose here was. He then handed me a thick manila folder as I shoved the door closed.
I threw the packet on the counter not caring what it was. It didn't matter, nothing mattered if Browning had been manipulating this entire time. If it wasn't for the history of my mother's death, I probably would have followed in her footsteps, but not killing myself was the only thing I could give my dead mother now. I obviously couldn't give her death retribution by being a lawyer now.
A few days passed through some blinding dreams and alcohol fueled blackouts. If all I got from Browning was paid rent for a year, I was going to take advantage of that. Clearly she was not invested in anything outside of satiating her guilt over using me. And I knew part of that situation was something that I had subconsciously participated in. If only for the sexual awakening that she gave me, I still couldn't regret knowing her, and that only made me hate myself more for letting my mother down.
I knew I needed to do something to get out of this head space. And I didn't care if it was reckless or not. I dressed myself, battling the tears of despair, I managed to put some makeup on without letting the desperation seep into my efforts. Obviously I couldn't go to the club I used to work at, but that wasn't stopping me from going to another sex club in the area. Hopeful for a release of any kind, I would even take a cringe gangbang at this point. I would even submit to a man for any kind of orgasm. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone right?
I adorned a navy blue clutch where I threw my phone and keys. I wore a dark red dress, it had an opened back and a deep v-line. No bra or panties obviously. Maybe I could get some stranger to finger me at the bar and forget my terrible life for a few seconds.
I decided to walk instead of taking a cab, hoping the time in my steep black heels would calm my convictions slightly. As I approached the door to the club, there was a typical NDA that I was prepared for. I quickly signed without even reading the words. It was obvious what would be entailed, confidentiality of patrons, consent or participants, and general behavioral expectations.
I went straight to the bar and ordered a pricey mixed drink on the card that I knew Browning would compensate for. I wanted her to pay for all of my troubles, even if no dollar amount would suffice the transgressions she had thrust upon me, I was going to take advantage of them all. If she was only a blank check for my sexual relation with her, then I was fine being pimped out on her dime.
I glanced around at the area, it seemed to take notes from the club I took part in, or maybe it was the other way around. It didn't matter as I rotated in my bar stool to take in the stage as the lights dimmed for a show. Nothing could have prepared me for seeing Dean come out as the ringleader of the show. I motioned for another drink and took solace in the burning liquid as I focused on the reality that Dean was not cowering somewhere with his tail between his legs, but thriving with a willing audience. And the atmosphere was contagious when paired with the alcohol I was downing too excitedly.
As Dean took the stage and announced something like an auction taking place, someone sat beside me. I didn't take too much notice until he placed a hand on my thigh, "I haven't seen you around here before love, first time?" He was good looking enough, even if I didn't take to men like I did to women. I smiled at him sheepishly. His strong muscular chin and rippling muscles under his dress shirt that was outlined by a loose tie did give me a sense of power that I so desperately wanted to submit to.