My brother-in-law is a police officer (part 2/1)

I have taken a long time to recount what has happened in these months, after that Sunday morning when my brother-in-law came to my house to return my cell phone, fuck me like a bad bitch, and announce that he would be the godfather of his first child, my first nephew.

That Sunday morning, following the night when several police cars arrived unexpectedly at the pine forest.

That Sunday morning, following the night when two of his agents raped "the boss's little sister-in-law".

It's not easy to confess to what extent Gerardo has managed to strip me of my freedom or what I, until then, considered to be freedom. Perhaps it's hard to believe that I haven't been able to put up any obstacles, or that I've even wanted to, to everything he's established as a norm and custom in my life, little by little, calmly, but with unquestionable certainty.

Norms that I've adapted to, that I've internalized so naturally, accepting them without any hint of sacrifice, but rather the opposite. One of his orders is a new opportunity to show him what he means to me, what he's turned me into, what everything has become since that night when he sent for me at the pine forest.

He gives me a certain amount of freedom, a certain margin. To start with, it's clear that he's not interested in establishing a relationship so close that I end up being a nuisance to him. He uses me when he wants, when he needs to. And that's it.

He does demand my presence and availability whenever he feels like it. He informs me with some advance notice of when and where we'll meet, and he assigns me tasks and errands: picking up an envelope or a package. One time, something as brazen as a plastic bag with something metallic the size and shape of a pistol, simply wrapped in some cloths. I don't ask questions. He doesn't explain.

Additionally, for my sister, these tasks and our meetings are tests of the trust that has been born between her husband and her brother. She and my mother no longer know what pedestal to put him on. "Gerardo, son, we'll never be able to repay you for what you're doing for Ángel. He looks so changed!" my mother would always thank him. Her son-in-law, in addition to being admirable, is managing to straighten out the troublemaker that is her son.

I undress and kneel before him, and I make him enjoy himself like a true slave who only seeks the pleasure of the owner who possesses her. If he acknowledges it, he reacts immediately.

"What a slut you are! The money I'm saving on whores since you've been my bitch."

However, he doesn't allow me to get too full of myself and forget the position I occupy. And, from time to time, I receive a reminder of who I am and what I'm for. I know I'm not the only slut he uses for his whims.

I acknowledge it. He's the one I want to belong to. I feel like my life has been straightened out in some sense. I haven't set foot in the pine forest again, I've ...