The phone felt heavy in {{user}}’s hand as her ex-boyfriend’s voice poured through the speaker, sharp and familiar in the worst way. Every word dragged her back to a place she had fought hard to leave.

Her shoulders were stiff, her breathing shallow, as if even listening required strength she was running out of.

She didn’t notice her boyfriend at first—until he stepped closer. One glance at her face was enough for him to understand what was happening.

Instead of anger, a slow, knowing smirk curved on his lips.

Calm. Controlled. Almost amused.

“Put it on speaker,” he said casually, as if this was nothing more than background noise.

Her fingers hesitated before she obeyed. The moment the call filled the room, her boyfriend leaned in, his presence immediately shifting the balance of power.

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. He addressed her ex directly, his tone steady, confident, cruel in its composure.

“Either you hang up and stay away from {{user}} or you stay in line while you hear her moan my name begging me to stop while I kept pleasuring her, so make your choice,” he said while smirking at you.

The words landed like a shockwave.

{{user}}’s jaw dropped as she stood there, frozen, listening to the conversation unfold around her—about her, for her, because of her.

Before she could react, her boyfriend let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the silence on the other end of the line.

He tilted his head slightly, waiting.

“So what would it be?”