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They work together, sliding in and out of me. One of them has his thumb on my clit, but I don’t know who. I can’t help it, I curl my spine and drop my chin, and give in to the pleasure. I reach out either side of me, grabbing Dom’s forearm with one hand and Kirill’s with the other.
“That’s right, Duchess,” Kirill encourages. “You hold on to us.”
My orgasm breaks, and I become oblivious to all the people around me as utter bliss shudders through me over and over. I’d swear I feel myself gushing around their fingers, soaking my panties and sweatpants. Oh, God, I hope I haven’t left a wet spot on the chair.
It’s too much. To raw. This level of degradation is not something I think I can sign up for. And this is only the beginning. I can tell from their faces that they think this is completely okay. I need space, and time to think. The idea of the professor being out there, alive, and most certainly coming after me, is terrifying. However, this is terrifying too.
They both slip their fingers from my soaking pussy and grin at each other as they make a show of licking them off.
“I don’t feel well,” I say.
I stand and push my chair back, shaking like a leaf. It’s not a lie, because what they’ve just done to me has made me feel faint. It was incredible, I can’t deny, but now that I’m coming down from the high, I’m beginning to panic.
“We’ll come with you, Duchess,” Dom says as he pushes his chair back.
“No.” I hold my hand up. He raises one perfect dark brow and stares at me. “I need to speak with my mother,” I say truthfully.
“Fine, but come and find us in the den as soon as you’ve done everything you need to do.” Dom holds my gaze, determination written all over his face.
It’s a command, not a request, and I nod numbly.
I walk through the dining room on legs as shaky as a newborn foal, managing to avoid the gazes of everybody staring my way. There’s no way people didn’t notice what just happened. They all watched me come. This is the most humiliating moment of my entire life. That’s saying a lot, because recently there have been many humiliating moments.
Even though on one level, it’s the last thing I want to do, I know I have to speak with my mother. We left things in a very bad place when I ran, and despite my ongoing anger at her, she doesn’t deserve that.
How can I judge her for the things she has done in life, when I keep making such terrible decisions myself? Would she be ashamed of me if she knew what I’d gotten myself into with these three men? Would she disown me? I truthfully don’t think she would. I think she would stand by me. In fact, I think my mother would stand by me no matter what I did. I could be imprisoned for killing the professor, and I know she would come every week and sit and talk with me, and still love me as much as she always has done.
Guilt hits me hard and fast, but it wars with the side of me that struggles to forgive her.
I try to tell myself everything she did was for me. I repaid her by swearing to cut her out of my life and then running away. I still hate Nataniele and can’t stand the idea of her with him. It’s her life, though. She’s with him for me, but even if she was with him for her own reasons, I have to accept that.
I’m not a child, I’m an adult, and being an adult means you start to see your parents as human beings, not simply existing for you. You have to understand that they have a life of their own. It might not always be a life that I approve of, but she’s still my mom.
Before I speak to her, though, I need five minutes alone in my room to consider the Devils’ proposal. I’ve just had a sample of what’s to come. I’d be a fool if I didn’t think their behavior will grow ever more daring. The degradation ever more shameful. The control spiraling to dangerous levels.
The most terrifying part of it is the weird, sick, hidden corner of myself that wants it.
I want them to tell me what to eat, and to feed me my food. Part of me felt like a queen when they were doing their depraved acts with me in the dining hall in front of all the other students. I’m not an idiot, and I don’t confuse sex and love. The Devils, though, I think they do. Or at least they are confusing sex and obsession. They don’t know where one begins and the other ends.
They might think they’re in control here, but they’re not.
None of us are.
It’s a weird dynamic and one I might be able to use to my advantage. I’m their Duchess, their special doll. Doesn’t that give me an odd sort of power?
As I reach my room, a thought occurs to me. Perhaps I can say yes to this indecent proposal of theirs, and still somehow retain a degree of control. After all, I’m beginning to get to know each of their weaknesses, and each of their desires. Could I use those things to manipulate them? It wouldn’t be out of the bounds of my talents to use their individual foibles in my favor.
I throw myself on the bed, kicking my door shut with a groan. Who am I kidding? I’m no master manipulator. If I were, I wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.
It’s a simple choice. A stark and terrifying choice. If I stay here, the Devils will not leave me alone. Even if I say no to their proposition, they’re hardly going to start ignoring me. They’ve made it quite clear that even Dom, with this strange half hatred, half desire for me, can’t let me go. I got on their radar, and I let myself get in too deep, and now I mean something to them.
I don’t think they love me, but they want to possess me, own me, and control me. They also want to protect me, and care for me in their strange, sick way.
They really do want to make me their perfect little doll. Is it wrong that there’s something strangely enticing about the idea to me? Yes, they might get their kicks from a dose of sexual degradation, but I can also imagine Tino combing my hair. Dom making sure I have everything I want. Kirill making me laugh when I’m sad, or fighting anyone who looks at me the wrong way.
The attention of the Devils is a double-edged sword. It is sharp and it’s deadly, but it’s also silver and beautiful. It catches the light and reflects it back into a million shards of temptation and danger.
The knock on my door makes me jump. “Who is it?” I ask.
