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Chapter 176 by Romanorgy Romanorgy

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Give Cherie a preview

The dream doesn't start in a medieval castle or a 50's style kitchen; it starts in the raw, sun-baked reality of yesterday.

Cherie finds herself back in the downward dog position. She feels Mike drape himself over her, a heavy, muscular shadow. She looks at the glass door and sees Alexis winking—a conspiratorial signal that the show has begun.

The scene blurs, and Mike’s face is buried in the crook of her neck. His teeth graze her earlobe while his massive hands claim her breasts through her sports bra, making her arch her back in the dream-world.

Then, the "Training" goes fully professional.

She sees herself in a frantic, naked montage. She’s being taken by Mike in the downward dog pose in the kitchen; he’s plowing into her in the plow pose on the living room rug; he's buried to the hilt while she does the splits on top of him. Every room in the house becomes a studio for their union. They are in the attic, the ghost-light of the mirror illuminating their sweat; they are in the pool, the water splashing in rhythm with their movements.

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Finally, they are in her marital bed. Mike is over her, powerful and relentless.

And there, in each room, standing with a clinical, approving nod, is Chad. Every time Mike thrusts, every time Cherie screams out his name, Chad steps forward. With a dull, mechanical expression, he reaches into his wallet and hands Mike another crisp fifty-dollar bill.

“Excellent form, Mike,” the dream-Chad says, his voice a hollow echo. “Keep going. I want her to get her money’s worth.”

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The dream ends with a kaleidoscope of green bills falling like confetti over their tangled bodies, each one a fresh authorization of her desire.

Cherie bolts upright as the first light of Thursday hits the window. Her nightgown is damp with sweat, and her heart is hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She looks at Chad, who is just beginning to stir, and then at her own hands.

She feels... expensive.

She slips out of bed, her feet touching the carpet where you massaged her only hours ago. She walks to the mirror, touching her neck, her mind still echoing with the sound of Chad’s dream-voice: “I want her to get her money’s worth.”

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