Julian was everything I thought I wanted. Gentle, sweet, dependable. He made breakfast every morning, kissed my forehead as I sipped coffee, and whispered reassurances that made the world feel steady. Our nights were calm and predictable, filled with quiet “I love you’s” and lovemaking that felt more like a routine than a release.
But there was a hollow place inside me he could never touch, no matter how hard he tried. I told myself it was normal—a year into a relationship, things shift, right? The spark fades, only to settle into something deeper. That’s what I wanted to believe. But the truth wasn’t a gentle fading light. It was darker. It was Bruce.
I hadn’t thought of him in months, maybe longer, but Bruce was always there, buried beneath the surface. His ghost lingered in my quiet moments, his voice a phantom in the corners of my mind. I told myself I didn’t miss him—didn’t miss it. But the lie was fragile, a veneer over something jagged.
Then he came back.
It was a chance encounter, or at least that’s what I told myself. The coffee shop was crowded, the air thick with the smell of espresso and murmured conversations. But I felt him before I saw him, the air around me shifting like a magnetic field pulling taut.
He was leaning against the counter, casual and commanding, as if the world existed for his amusement. When our eyes met, his lips curled into a smirk that made my stomach tighten.
“Emma,” he said, his voice a low purr that carried all the history I tried to forget.
My heart stumbled in my chest, anger and longing colliding in a sickening rush. I hated how easily he unraveled me, how a single glance from him could reach the parts of me I’d hidden even from myself.
He didn’t ask about Julian. He didn’t need to. Bruce had always known exactly where he stood in my life—above everyone else.
That night, I told Julian about the meeting, leaving out the way my skin burned under Bruce’s gaze, the way his voice had lingered in my ears long after he was gone. “An old friend,” I called him, and Julian, trusting as ever, smiled and moved on.
But Bruce didn’t move on.
It started small—dreams that left me gasping, flashes of memory that crept into the edges of my thoughts. I tried to bury them, to focus on Julian’s steady presence, but Bruce was like a drug I could never fully quit.
I began testing Julian in subtle ways, introducing ideas into our sex life that I hoped would ignite something primal in him, something that could match the fire Bruce had once lit in me. But Julian’s touch was always soft, his voice always gentle, his love too safe for the chaos I craved.
I hated myself for resenting him.
Bruce knew. He always knew. His late-night texts started innocently enough, little teases and provocations that made my pulse race. “You miss it, don’t you?” he’d write. I didn’t reply—not at first. But I didn’t block him either.
One night, as Julian slept beside me, I gave in.
Bruce didn’t ask me to meet him; he told me. His message was an address and a time, no explanation, no pretense. And I went.
The moment I stepped into his apartment, the air felt heavier. Bruce’s presence filled the space, suffocating and magnetic.
“You’ve been playing house,” he said, circling me like a predator assessing his prey. “But that’s not who you are, is it?
I opened my mouth to protest, but the words caught in my throat. Bruce’s hand tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“You belong to me,” he said, his voice low and sure. As if he’d turned back time, Bruce order me to strip.
I should have left. I should have walked out and never looked back. Instead, I slowly pealed off my clothes, folding them neatly and placing them in a pile, As Bruce expected, then I dropped to my knees.
Bruce stepped in front of me, unzipped his trousers, and took out his semi-erect cock. I opened my mouth instinctively. Moments later, I was choking down his full nine inches. As he fucked my mouth, memories resurfaced that had been suppressed. By the time he ejaculated, I was back in his world completely.
When I had finished sucking Bruces cock clean, he didn’t say anything but just left. He didn’t have to say anything. We both knew we had picked up where we left off.
I didn’t keep my meeting with Bruce from Julian for long. The guilt gnawed at me, but it was no match for the thrill. When I finally told Julian, I let my voice tremble, weaving the truth with just enough vulnerability to soften the blow.
“Bruce and I had a…different kind of relationship,” I said, looking down at my hands. “I miss it. I miss that part of myself.”
Julian’s face crumpled, but he didn’t get angry. He never got angry.
“What do you need from me?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
The question opened a door I didn’t hesitate to walk through.
“It’s not something you can give me,” I said, letting the words hang heavy in the air. “But maybe you can watch.”
The suggestion horrified him, but I saw the flicker of curiosity in his eyes. Bruce had always known how to push boundaries, and now, so did I.
The first time Julian watched, he sat in the corner, silent and pale, as Bruce tore me apart. Bound facedown to the bed with ropes, Bruce assfucked me while I screamed. I didn’t feel shame—only exhilaration. Julian didn’t understand, but that wasn’t my problem.
Bruce thrived on Julian’s discomfort, using it as fuel to deepen his control. He whispered things to me just loud enough for Julian to hear, things designed to cut.
“He’ll never own you like I do,” Bruce said, his hand tightening around my throat.
Julian flinched but stayed. He always stayed.
It wasn’t long before Bruce turned his focus to Julian, toying with him like a cat with a trapped mouse. His sharp remarks became direct orders, his power over Julian growing with every passing encounter.
“You’re lucky she even keeps you around,” Bruce sneered, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as Julian shrank in his seat.
The ultimate humiliation came when Bruce insisted Julian wear a cock cage. Julian protested, his voice breaking under the weight of his own shame, but Bruce’s dominance left no room for negotiation.
“You’ll never satisfy her like I do,” Bruce said, smirking as he locked the device in place.
Julian began to crumble, the man who once loved me unconditionally now reduced to a hollow shell. And yet, he stayed, tethered by something I could no longer understand.
I had everything I thought I wanted—Bruce’s fire, Julian’s devotion. But as I looked at Julian’s haunted eyes and felt the weight of Bruce’s grip, I realized I’d built my life on ashes.