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Unfortunately, feminine pride required sacrifices.
Men were always so dramatic.
Existence fucking hurt.
I made a face back at him. “Wow, a woman can’t even have a dramatic moment in the rain without a man ruining it for her. Classic.”
If the patriarchy could just not for literally one day, I would appreciate it.
“Well, the don said we begin the second trial, so that should be fun.” I pretended to smoke an imaginary cigar and made a finger gun. “Gang life, am I right?”
He didn’t move an inch, just kept standing with his legs spread aggressively and penis out. A real power stance.
For the sake of feminists everywhere, I ignored the way my core fluttered when he said they owned me.
However, since I was still in a state of extreme duress, I decided not to be impressed by a man doing the bare minimum.
The closest solution I’d found to dealing with trauma was the pure elation of starting a new hobby project and not completing it.
Aran rolled her eyes. “Everyone is so sensitive these days. I only choked him a little. You just can’t do anything anymore. It’s ridiculous.” I nodded in agreement. “I’m worried for
