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Athena
“Take off your panties.”
Dean’s voice is loud and commanding, and the whole room goes quiet, every eye fixed on me. They’re all eagerly waiting to see what I’ll do, if I’ll obey, and I know I should, but I’m frozen.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I’m so fucking screwed.
I can’t say no. I know I can’t.
“If you don’t take them off,” Dean says, his voice dropping an octave and taking on that threatening note again, “I’ll have someone here take them off for you. Would you like that, little pet? Some stranger taking off your panties for you? Does that get you wet?”
I hear a chuckle ripple through the crowd, and my face flames with embarrassment, the heat creeping down to my chest.
“I’ll do it!” some guy nearby yells, raising his hand like a fucking idiot, and Dean’s head whips around, freezing him with a glare.
“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps. “If I need help, I’ll choose someone myself.” Dean’s gaze flicks back to me. “Your choice, Athena. Take them off, or someone else does.”
Licking my dry lips, I reach down, my hands sliding underneath my skirt to the black thong I’d worn. I’d planned for Cayde to take it off later, and when my gaze flicks sideways to him, I can see the dark, angry expression on his face. My heart thumps in my chest for more reason than one—if I can still go through with my plan, Cayde will be far from gentle with me. I’d never thought he would be in the first place, and now—
Now, he’ll do everything in his power to hurt me for putting him through this.
So why does that thought excite me so much?
I can feel that flicker of heat between my thighs, my folds suddenly damp at the thought of Cayde roughly bending me over this table, his hand gripping the back of my neck as he shoves his fat cock into me. I squeeze my thighs together at the thought, willing myself not to get any more turned on. I don’t want Dean to announce to everyone here that I’m soaking wet at the start of my punishment, and I know he will.
As my thumbs hook into the sides of my thong and start to pull it down my hips, I see a girl whose name I don’t know passing out slips of paper around the crowd. “Everyone, write your names down!” Dean yells. “If Athena here doesn’t pass her test, I’ll draw a handful of names to get to do whatever the fuck you want with her on this table, except fuck her pussy or her ass. A gift from me, as a lesson to my pet if she doesn’t mind her manners during this punishment.”
There are eager gasps, and as I pull my panties off, I see it’s mostly men writing down their names. A few girls are scrawling theirs down just as eagerly, but most of the girls look upset, glancing at their boyfriends or crushes and pouting. I even see a few drunken arguments breaking out, and Dean grins.
“Calm down, everyone. This is a show, so enjoy yourselves. Guys, don’t get yourselves into trouble over my little pet. Don’t worry, the most you can do is make her suck you off or eat you out. No fucking allowed. Those holes are mine.” He grins and turns back to me. “Get those fucking panties off, Athena.”
I see one guy wavering over whether to write his name down, and his girlfriend leans over his arm, grinning. “Put your name in,” she hisses. “I’ll jerk you off while you come all over that little slut’s face.”
Christ, what the fuck is wrong with people?I wondered how people back in the middle ages used to go to things like public punishments and executions, but I see not much has changed. Everyone here is practically drooling to see what Dean’s going to do to me, and it’s not just the men. The girls are eager too, and I know for a fact it’s because they’re fucking jealous. Which is stupid as fuck, but they all wish they were where I am right now.
That thought makes me feel just a tiny bit more powerful. Not much, though, just enough to maybe get me through whatever Dean has planned.
Dean advances on me, holding his hand out. “Your panties.”
I hand them to him, and I get a flash of memory of him in the kitchen with me, of jam sticky on my skin, and the feeling of his tongue rolling over my most sensitive flesh. It sends a thrill through me, and I swallow hard as I feel a flush of arousal color my skin.
Dean holds up the thong, grinning. “One of you lucky fuckers will win this, too!” He brings them to his nose, inhaling deeply. “They smell like her pussy, that’s for sure. And they’re wet.”
Oh god.I can feel my cheeks burning. Dean is grinning widely as he jerks his head. “Bend her over the table, boys.”
Jaxon and Cayde advance on me then. The first thing I see is how very different their expressions are—Cayde looks fucking furious. Jaxon looks miserable, his face set in hard, grim lines. Both of them grab me, and I don’t bother struggling. Instead, I just go limp as they turn me around, Jaxon pushing me down face-first onto the table, and Cayde grabs the shoulders of my vest, yanking it off of me. I see through teary eyes the flash of the holographic fabric as he tosses it to the floor. Then Cayde is tearing at my crop top, pulling it over my head so roughly that I hear one of the shoulders tear.
“Undo her bra, Jaxon,” Cayde snaps, and I can hear the anger in his voice. I know why—this is his and Jaxon’s future as Dean’s lackeys being played out right here, forced to obey his orders no matter what. Cayde is used to calling the shots, and I know this burns that he’s following someone else’s orders right now, especially someone who used to answer to him.
I want to tell him that I’m going to figure it out, that this isn’t over yet, that when Dean is done exacting his punishment, I’m going to keep fighting, but I don’t, because I honestly don’t know how. I don’t know if I can fix this, and that fucking terrifies me.
“Hold her down,” Dean orders as Jaxon strips my bra off, leaving me face-down and bare-breasted on the table, the wood cold against my nipples. I hear a mostly male cheer go through the crowd as my bra is tossed aside, and I turn my head to try to get a glimpse of Jaxon’s face, but his expression is unreadable. I can’t tell if he wants to be doing this, if he’s taking some sick pleasure in getting me back for forcing him to reject me, or if he hates every second of it.
I hear the sound of leather slithering against cloth, and I know what’s coming next. I vaguely hear Dean order Jaxon to pull up my skirt while Cayde holds my wrists above my head. I can hear them positioning themselves so that the crowd still gets a good view of me, topless and now with my ass bared as Dean kicks my legs apart.
“Count them aloud, Athena,” he warns as I hear his belt snap, the crack of leather sounding through the room. Something about it sends a trickle of arousal down my thigh, and I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, my skin hot with the humiliation of it. What the fuck is wrong with me? I think about how I reacted to Winter, how I respond to this, the way my body seems to crave dark things, delicious things, violent things. I want to blame the boys, to say that they’ve made me want these things, that they’ve broken me somehow, but I know the truth is that this was probably always inside of me deep down, just waiting to be awakened. Waiting for someone to give me a firm hand that would crack open the vault of my deepest, darkest desires.
