Revenge, Pt 12: The Aftercare - Sex Stories

Revenge, Pt 12: The Aftercare

... was, how could I just forget? So, did I still hate her? Honestly? "Yes." I said, after a pause but she didn’t seem to notice. She didn't react at first. I think she knew it was coming. "Ok." she said in a small, broken voice. "I can live with that, I think. I don't need you to care about me." I had no response to this. I wasn't expecting it. "I always tell you that I love you... " she said, "And I only keep saying it because I keep finding new reasons for it to be true... but you've never said it back. It used to bother me, but when I was away I realised that I don't need you to say it back. I don't need you to love me. As long as I'm... as long as I'm yours." She slid her arms down my sides and lifted herself up. She leaned closer to me, and lowered her voice even more. "And I don't care what other girls you sleep with... or if you want to date Becky, or anyone else. I don't care if you want to get a real girlfriend and go on actual dates." she said, her voice getting heavy with emotion. "Because you don't belong to me... I belong to you. And as long as that's still true, then everything else is just... inconsequential." She bit her lip, then leaned forward to kiss me, but when she got close I gripped her jaw and held her in place. "Do you really mean that?" I asked. She tried to nod, but couldn't move her head. "Yes." she said. "Yes Sir." I frowned. I didn't even know what to think about this. This should have made me happy, but it sounded like she was giving up. Giving ...

... up on the idea that I would ever make her my girlfriend, that I'd ever treat her as an equal. She was submitting to me once again, but it sounded like it was breaking her heart. She pulled away, and lay down against me again. "I know it's...ugh, it's pathetic, but it's how I feel." she said, equal parts sadness and self-loathing. "This doesn't have to be anything more than... whatever it is. I don't blame you for feeling like that. We've never talked about it, but we both know I more than deserve it. I can't expect you to forgive me." This should have been music to my ears, but I couldn't handle any more of this, of her shame and self-hatred. I had no power to change how I felt about her, but I still wanted to help. For some stupid, nonsensical reason, I didn't want the woman I hated to hate herself too. "It's not pathetic." I said. She laughed disdainfully. "No, it kinda is. I'm just telling a guy that I don't care if he loves me or not, and that I just want to keep having sex with him." she said, as if explaining it to a child, "I'm a slut." The derision in her voice when she said the word "slut" surprised me. "That's not real though. You only think that because of... you know, cultural stuff." I said. "What?" she asked. I frowned at my choice of words, and tried to martial my weary thoughts into something more coherent. "Look... we live in a culture that tells women that love is the most important thing in the world. The idea is that men put up with romance in exchange for ...