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TWELVE
Remi
I’m a goddamn mess.
So much so, that I can’t even piece together a coherent thought in my brain. All my hate, my anger, my pain, it’s taken the backburner to something even worse—my pleasure. The greedy whore of an emotion controls me, making me dance for it and Professor Vaughn. I hate it, loathing myself in return. This isn’t how any of this was supposed to go. Granted, I had no idea what to expect when I was escorted into this secret hellhole of a room filled with torture gadgets—but I never imagined I would be driven to the edge sexually and then pushed over.
Nor did I think I would like it.
I squint, trying to make out anything from behind the blindfold, but the material is too dense. I don’t have a prayer of seeing unless it’s removed, meaning I’m completely at Professor Vaughn’s mercy.Why the hell does that turn me on even more?All I should be doing right now is envisioning piercing a knife into the bastard’s stomach until his guts spill forth and the life fades from his eyes or settle for cursing his very existence. Instead, I’m on pins and needles waiting to see what the depraved man does to me next—because I fucking love his brand of torture. I wonder what that says about me but don’t dwell on the thought too long. If I make it out alive from Bitterwood, the amount of therapy I’ll need will know no bounds, but it probably is best to just compartmentalize this entire night and never revisit.
Ever.
“Remington!” I jump a little at Professor Vaughn’s voice, closer to me than I expected since he last stopped touching me. “You’ve been such a good girl, but I didn’t give you permission to come that last time—you chose to do that all on your own.”
He pinches my nipple between his fingers, and I twitch at his words, ashamed to admit he’s right. It’s like I couldn’t help myself—Ineededto come.
He rolls the hard nub aggressively and I try hard to stifle a moan working up my throat. “Don’t worry, princess, I enjoyed the show. Bentley also got a taste of you.” My pussy clenches at his words as the professor releases me.What does he mean?“Ben, my boy, tell Remington how much you like the flavor of her cunt. Tell her—or else.”
I’m not sure what’s happening, but there’s a slight scuffle before Bentley answers. “It was alright.”
Professor Vaughn tsks before I have a chance to feel a sliver of embarrassment. “Don’t lie, Mr. Lennox. Tell her what youreallythink.”
Bentley grunts before finally answering, “It was fucking amazing.”
His words end in a growl that sends a thrill to my core—it’s primal and possessive, wrapped in jealous anger and sexual frustration. I remind myself I don’t like the arrogant dick, but my vagina doesn’t give two shits. All she wants is someone’s—anyone’s—cock rammed deep inside of her, preferably sooner than later, and that’s the crux of all my misery. After all that’s happened to me, I won’t even walk away with my dignity and self-integrity. No, these assholes are even stripping me of that until there’ll be nothing left, not even my humanity—but that’s what Principal Windsor wants, right? That’s the whole point of this school, The Gallery, and these little games.
Focus, Remi, you haven’t lost yet.
But I feel defeated.
My head drops with shame, and the tension from hanging all this time comes roaring to life inside of me. Before, I didn’t feel anything, but now my arms burn and ache simultaneously. Inwardly, I’m a jumbled disaster, and outwardly, I don’t even want to know how I look. After my fight with Bianca, we barely had time to shower and change into a fresh school uniform more befitting an academic porno than a real outfit. Sexual degradation seems like a common sense move given everything else that has happened at Bitterwood. But then again, Principal Windsor has treated all students the same thus far—there’s even equality in the guards among men and women. Maybe this isn’t the principal. Maybe it’s just Professor Vaughn...
Getting even from the other night.
Realization slams into me like the force of a freight truck, and bile threatens to spew from my throat and past my lips. Somehow, I tamp down the urge to puke, inhaling deeply through my nostrils, trying not to crumble under the heavy weight of humiliation regarding how I acted. It was as if my body just took over. Every other guy I’ve ever been with never gave me what I crave. I acknowledge there’s a darker side to my desires, something a “lady of my upbringing” shouldn’t want, but it’s there all the same. I’ve never indulged in it—until tonight—that’s what makes all of this even more fucked up. The control I’ve fought for my entire life unraveled faster than a rolling ball of yarn, and I can’t blame Professor Vaughn. He didn’t make me submit.
I chose to.
“Cashel, would you like a taste?” Professor Vaughn’s words snap me back to the present. I miss the blond boy’s response but hear the fury in his voice. Apparently, he doesn’t like the professor treating me like some sex object—rich considering he calls me ‘doll’. “Hmmm, I don’t like your tone, Mr. O’Connor, but no worries. I have just the thing towhipyou into shape!” Professor Vaughn laughs cruelly, and I wonder what the joke is. Being blindfolded is awful. Ignorance might be bliss, but I prefer to meet my future with eyes wide open.
Again, there’s a shuffling while someone whistles—presumably the professor. With every passing second, my body coils fretfully, anxious to see what he’s going to do next. When will this night end? In answer, the snap of something cracking splits the air, making the hairs on my arms and neck stand. Even though I can’t quite place it, I somehow recognize the sound. Instinctively, my mind knows it’s something that doesn’t bode well for me, but physically, my body comes alive. There’s the promise of pain in that snap—and my traitorous form loves being punished by the professor.
“Bentley, can you please tell Ms. Radcliffe what I have? Oh, by the way, Remi, you’re the only one still blindfolded.”
I scowl at this announcement. Of course, I’m the only one. Never have I felt the injustice of being a woman like I do in this moment. Stripped and posed, forced to suffer the gazes of any who choose to look as if I’m a stone statue unable to move. The fact that Bianca is exempt from this punishment fuels my ire even more. No one has ever infuriated me like Professor Vaughn—or turned me on. I don’t know if I want to choke the last breath out of him, or have him do that to me because it’s obvious the man is a master with discipline.Does he routinely spank people with wooden canes?Maybe he’s just a sick fuck who gets off to this shit, but what would that make me, then? I try to imagine what I looked like while he beat my ass when a thought occurs to me.
“Is The Gallery watching this?” My voice is a little shriller than I care for, the alarm evident, and I wait with a sickening sensation in the pit of my stomach for Professor Vaughn to answer.
“What do you think?” He doesn’t outrightly confirm it, but he doesn’t have to—of course, this is being filmed. My hatred for him intensifies by a hundred. He better keep me chained for life if he doesn't want me to find him and hack off his balls with a dull knife.
“Now, back to the punishment. Bentley, tell Remington what’s in my hand.”
“A cat-o-nine tails,” comes the dark-haired boy’s hoarse answer. Fear chased by an excited thrill zips through my body, but I keep my face passive. No doubt Professor Vaughn already knows how much I enjoy his abuse and attention, but I’m not giving him any more reactions.
“Indeed it is. Who would like to taste the kiss of this beauty first? Anyone? No? Well, in that case,ladiesfirst.” I don’t miss his emphasis on the word ‘ladies’, insinuating that I’m anything but, and suddenly, a dull knife is too good for him.
Professor Vaughn walks silently, his shoes barely making a sound against the floor. The only indication that he’s close is the slight stir of the air between us when he passes. My breathing stutters out unevenly as I curse my inability to see and move. I might despise the professor but hold Cashel and Bentley in equal contempt. Those assholes decided not to fight. I didn’t break any rules—they did—but here I am, taking the brunt of their punishment all because Professor Vaughn has a hard-on for me.
