"Baby, pee on the stick." He stood, arms crossed, between me and the door.
"I don't want to," I whined, holding my legs crossed. I really had to go, but I knew what that would mean. I had been peeing on the little sticks for him for the past four days, watching the faint line grow darker.
"It's gonna happen, darling," he smiled sickly sweet. "Just give into it."
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"That's it, baby, hold your legs up for me. You're doing so good."
I kept my legs bent at the knees and held my ankles just like he had told me, gripping them tight to stop myself from shaking with nerves.
"Who does your body belong to?" he asked. His fingertips gently guided my chin, turning my face towards him.
I felt the tears starting to well in my eyes. As he saw them, he leaned down and kissed them away. But he didn't stop.
"No need for tears. You're doing just as I told you, and you're making me so happy by not fighting me this month."
I nodded, but could hear myself starting to sniffle. I remembered the month prior, after I had tried to crawl out from under him as he mounted me from behind. He had then taken me repeatedly, tied at four points with a pillow under my hips, until he was satisfied that he was empty.
"Now, who does your body belong to?" he repeated.