The mountain air was still clinging to us as we drove down the winding road that cuts through Mokhotlong.
Golden light rested on the slopes, and the last stretch of gravel settled behind the car like a fading trail of dust.
She sat beside me in silence.
Bare skin.
Soft breathing.
Her body still humming from everything that happened in the villages.
The harshness of the acts was gone, but the effect lingered in the way her fingers pressed lightly into her thighs as if she needed to hold herself together.
I kept my eyes on the road.
"Sit up for me."
She straightened immediately.
Her knees parted just a little, her shoulders drew back, her chest rose.
The obedience was instinctive, and the quiet between us grew even deeper.
After a long moment I asked,
"Tell me what all of this does to you."
The question landed like a hand around her ribs.
I could feel the breath catch in her before she even spoke.
"Sir… it opens me," she whispered.
She looked out the window for a moment at the rolling mountains, then back at her hands.
"All day I carry myself like someone who is in control. Someone who feels nothing unless she chooses to. But when you stopped the car earlier and pulled me out… it felt like you saw right through that. You saw the part of me that craves to be undone."
Her voice warmed with honesty, slow and careful, like she was afraid of breaking it.
"When you used my mouth… when you held me down and I could smell the dust and the sun on your skin… Sir, it felt like you were stripping the world away until there was only you and what you wanted from me."
She took a shaky breath.
"It is not the roughness itself that I crave. It is the certainty. The way you decide. The way you remove every thought from my head until I am just yours."
Her thighs pressed together for a moment as if her body was remembering every second.
"And when I walked into those villages… the first and then the second… Sir, I felt like my whole body was marked with you. Like everyone who glanced at me could sense I had been claimed. The embarrassment burned in me but it was the kind that makes my chest feel tight and full and alive."
She lowered her voice even more, almost reverent.
"I do not love humiliation because it is shameful. I love it because it is yours. Because it tells me I belong somewhere. Because it ties me to you."
Then she lifted her face toward me, eyes soft and bare.
"When you use me in those ways… I feel whole. I feel like the world finally makes sense. Everything in me settles. Everything in me knows its place."
Silence filled the car again.
Only the sound of the road beneath us.
Only the quiet truth she had handed me without holding anything back.
Then she finished in a whisper that felt like a vow.
"Sir… being used by you does not break me. It completes me."