Sophia stretched her legs out in front of her, the evening sun casting a golden glow across the estate. Her tone was casual, almost amused. “You know, Jacob… I just got back from a ten-day vacation with Michael. We drank vintage champagne, swam in a private infinity pool, and made love every night in silk sheets you paid for.”
She glanced down at him, kneeling dutifully at her feet, hands working over her arches. “Eighty hours of work a week. Chores before dawn, chores after dusk. And yet, here you are—on your knees, massaging my feet like the good little cuck you are.”
She leaned into Michael, letting her fingers trace the rim of her glass. “Do you know why we use you, Jacob?” she asked softly, then didn’t wait for an answer. “Because you’re weak. Pathetic. Because deep down, you love being reminded that you’re not a man—I already have one of those.”
Her voice sharpened. “You scrub his car, wash his clothes, and iron his shirts. You pay for our flights, our dinners, our laughter. You think you’re serving me out of devotion, but no, Jacob. You’re our entertainment. Our labor. Our wallet.”
She smiled, satisfied. “It’s not just the money. It’s the knowledge that you know you’ll never be one of us. That your only worth is what we take from you. And that makes everything better—everything. The wine tastes sweeter."
She smiled wickedly, "Using you makes everything better—our lives, our orgasms, our freedom.”
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