Chapter 11

Morgan stared at the pile of homework haphazardly stacked on her desk like a half-finished game of Jenga. Every time she tried to get her brain in gear, thoughts about Damien would pop up and push everything else out. 

'What if he's with another girl?'

'What if he doesn't really want me?'

The mental image of him with some dark-haired goth girl made her stomach clench up. 

And the worst thoughts; 'I'm not good enough for him.'

Morgan considered getting a piercing. She had dyed her hair pink, but she didn't look the girl on the packet—edgy and stylish. She looked like a preppy girl trying desperately to look alternative to please a guy.

Her brain hurt as she scrolled through old pictures on his social media. Since he had added her as a 'friend' she could see way back to 2019. One image of Damien hugging an emo-looking girl was making her crazy. 

'She's chubby and not even pretty,' Morgan thought. 'How can Damien like her?'

His face in the picture suggested he liked her a lot. 

'I want to burn her house down while she's in it,' Morgan thought. 'I'm way hotter than her and he never looks at me like that.'

As she blinked, two wet blobs appeared on her desktop. Staring down at them, she felt a couple more tears stream from each eye and wiped them away with her sleeve before her desk flooded.

Unable to resist the urge, Morgan clicked on the emo girl's profile. As she scrolled, she found one other picture of Damien that he wasn't tagged in. In the picture she was tugging the neckline of his shirt, pulling it down to reveal love bites.

The anger she felt was as explosive as it was unwarranted. In the logical part of her mind, she realised this picture was taken over three years ago. Yet, the rest of her would listen. Her stomach had decided a visceral response was called for and her heart was thudding in agreement.

Unsure what to do with the pent-up aggression, she glanced at her pile of unfinished work, curled her hand into a fist and sent it crashing down onto the books and papers. A flurry of A4 lined and graph paper flew in every direction, mingling as they fell.

With a scream, Morgan stood and proceeded to kick her work into every corner of her room and under the bed.

Kicking the inanimate objects about did not ease the pain in her chest and stomach. In defeat, she fell to the floor, sobbing, before slowly coming to the realisation there was an easy fix.

Leaving her room in a state, she slunk out of her house and walked up the road to Damien's. 

As soon as he answered she felt a little better... until she saw the look on his face.

"Morgan, you can't spend every waking minute with me," he said, leading her into the living room.

The downstairs was in darkness with no television or music playing so she guessed the rest of his family were out. 

"I feel like I'm going crazy," she explained. "I hate it. I hate feeling like this."

The tears started up again as she tried to make him understand. 

"I feel like my stomach is constantly tied in a knot. Like I'm going to puke or shit myself at any minute. You may as well have given me that anal leakage thing."

This made Damien chuckle. "Ah yes, the lesser talked about and not so poetic side effect of love."

"This isn't love, Damien, this is..." Morgan rubbed her forehead. "This is torture. Can you maybe dial it back a little bit?"

"Just a little tiny bit?" Morgan asked, moving into him for a cuddle. "Please? Please?"

She felt his chest rise and fall as he sighed. He looked down at her with eyes narrowed and lips pursed.

"Please, Damien? It hurts. It hurts all the time. I just tore up my room because I found a picture from three years ago of you kissing some stupid girl," Morgan explained. "I feel like I'm going crazy and it hurts."

Damien chuckled and gave her a pitying smile but said nothing.

"Please, Damien," Morgan asked, slowly crumbling to her knees. "Just a tiny bit. I'm begging you, please, just a tiny little bit."

He looked down for the longest time before rolling his eyes and agreeing to make her affliction a little more bearable.

"Here." He flicked her on the forehead. "Better?"

Morgan breathed a sigh of relief as she smiled up at him. The pain in her stomach hadn't completely dissipated, but it no longer felt as though her insides were twisted up in barbed wire. 

"Thank you," she whispered. She wiped the tears from her face and went to stand.

"Not so fast." Damien placed his hands on her shoulders, halting her. "While you're down there."

He did a double eyebrow raise as she looked up, so she figured he might be joking. When he unbuckled his belt, she realised he wasn't. She watched his fingers, staring at his chipped black nails as he undid the buttons on his trousers.

Morgan was happy to do it. She'd gladly spend all day making him cum if he wanted her to. Still, the timing felt weird, as though she was expected to pay for his mercy with sexual favours.

Timing aside, she happily obliged. 

"Will you pull my hair?" she asked. The hot, tingly feeling in her scalp when someone pulled on her hair was intoxicating; a mixture of pleasure and pain unlike anything else. 

"Sure," he said, grabbing a handful of her newly pink locks. 

As she sucked him off, Damien pulled tighter and tighter to the point it was almost unbearable. Then he'd let go, leaving one portion of her scalp to burn as he grabbed a fresh handful. 

'He's better at hairpulling than Toby ever was,' Morgan thought. Toby never wanted to risk hurting her. He was always gentle, careful, thoughtful and made sure to have full unwavering consent. Somebody asking if you were okay over and over again wasn’t sexy at all.

Damien wasn't like Toby. He wanted to hurt her, not physically as much as emotionally, but inflicting physical pain wouldn't be a problem for him.

'Because he still hates you.'

Morgan felt her eyes filling again, but at least she could blame it on her gag reflex this time. 

The front door handle started to jiggle just as he finished.

"Oh, crap," he muttered, shoving his dick back in his pants just as the entire family entered. 

They stopped, looked guiltily at the couple in their precarious stances and hid their hands behind their backs.

"Hi," his Mum said, smiling too widely for a woman who'd just walked in her son receiving a blow job.

"You guys went out for burgers!" Damien cried, pointing at their hands as if they still held the evidence.

"I had a vegan burger!" Lucy cried. "I'm innocent!"

The girl took a step away from the others, moving toward Damien.

This was Morgan’s first time meeting the stepdad. He smiled at her and offered his hand. 

"I'm Gary," he said.

"Morgan." She took his hand and shook it, hyper-aware that her hand had just been around Damien's balls.

"Well, I think it's time for another movie," Damien said. He turned on the television, ushering his family toward the sofa.

"Oh, I have a lot of work to do," Gary said.

"Sit!" Damien barked.

Gary sat, flashing a wide-eyed look at Damien's mother.

She smiled and covered her husband's hand with her own, gently coaxing him and whispering something Morgan couldn't make out.

"Please, Damien, can it wait for another time?" his mother asked.

"No." Damien shook his head. "You couldn't wait to run off and eat dead animals so you can make time to watch this and if you look away, I'll make you watch it again as many times as I have to."

'Why don't they just say no?' Morgan wondered, looking at Gary's withered expression. He looked like he was losing the will to live.

"Just set it over with." Gary sighed.

As Damien ran up to his room, stomping on every step with the force of an elephant herd, Gary turned to Damien's mother.

"Anne, I—I can't do it. I can't go on like this," he whispered.

"It'll all be fine." Anne shushed him, stroking his hair. "We'll just..."

"What? Obey his every command?" Gary asked. When he realised the register of his voice he turned to Morgan. "Oh, erm."

"It's okay," Morgan assured him. "I... well... I know… a—about..."

"I knew it," Tom said, speaking up for the first time tonight. "I told you he was forcing her, didn't I?"

When the sound of Damien's footsteps on the stairs echoed, getting closer, Anne whispered for them to all shut up.

"You can go Morgan. I trust you haven't betrayed your morals?" he asked.

'Your morals, you mean?' she thought but would never dare say. As much as she wanted to be in his company, the idea of watching this video was not an appealing one.

"Of course not." Morgan smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Damien rolled his eyes.

"Hmm, if you're lucky."