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Shit. It’s Beyonce’s Rocket.
“Come over here and dance for me.” Master Hill raises his hand, using two fingers to wave me over. I don’t want to do this, but the quicker I get it over with, the quicker I can leave.
Sucking in a breath of courage, I pretend it’s Tyler sitting in the chair. He’d totally love me to dance for him and give him a lap dance, so I use him as my inspiration.
Standing before Master Hill, I sway my hips to the sensual beat of the song, slowly turning, I raise my hands a little over my head as I dance. As soon as I’m facing the mirror, Master Hill’s hands snap out and grip my hips, pulling me back until I’m dancing between his legs.
“Sit on my lap, Kitten.”
“Yes, Master,” I say innocently, mainly because I know it will turn him on, and the quicker I can get him off, the quicker this will be over.
An approving rumble sounds in his chest as I lower myself down, closing my eyes so I don’t have to see our reflection in the mirror as my purple lace arse cheeks press against the hard bulge in his pants.
Even though I’m sitting, I try to hover so I don’t have to feel too much of him, but he has other ideas, gripping my hips and shoving me down hard. A whimper escapes me as bile rises up my throat, and Master Hill takes over my attempt at lap dancing, manoeuvring my hips in a way that gives him the most pleasure.
Gripping the arms of the chair for support, I mistakenly open my eyes and see the scene reflected in the mirror before me. His lips are parted, exposing his teeth, which are biting together as he snarls out grunts, his normally pale cheeks flushed as my arse works over his cock, which is still safely tucked inside his suit pants. His face is contorted into a frustrated frown, his fingers pressing so hard into the skin at my hips that I know it’s going to leave bruises.
“Part your legs.” He demands, and I do it hoping it will hurry things along. He bites his lip, ignoring the cut as his eyes focus on my spread legs, releasing one grip from my hip to slide it around my front and between my legs.
I whimper again, trying to stand and shift back, but his grip is firm and unrelenting.
“You move away, and you are going against our agreement. Make a choice, Kitten. It’s you or your teacher.”
My lip wobbles as his words sink in, hot tears filling my eyes.
Why are you crying, Rhys? You created this.
I hate my inner demon, but the bitch is right. I created this. Acceptance is the only thing I have left right now, so I relax, tears spilling over, burning my cheeks, as I give my Master the best fucking lap dance he’s ever had in his life.
I take over. Rubbing. Grinding. Taking one of his hands and pressing it against my tit as his other hand rubs between my legs. I don’t feel any pleasure. I feel numb. My body is nothing but a shell right now—just skin. No feelings.
The song clicks over and starts again, and I can hear by his panting breaths against my ear that he’s close, so I amp up my grinding and don’t fight him off when his hand slips under the lace cup of the bra. That’s when he cums in his pants. I work him over and over with the cheeks of my arse until he grips my hips again, forcing me to stop.
“Good girl, Kitten.” He pants against my ear, flicking his vile tongue out to lick my lobe. “You comply like that each time, and your teacher is safe.”
29
Rhys
Fridays are usually my favourite day of the week. They hold the promise of a weekend—the promise of fun. Today, however, I wish it was Monday because then the weekend would’ve already passed, and those events that I’m yet to endure would be behind me.
Unfortunately, they are ahead of me. Tomorrow's visit to the prison and Sunday night's Feast are looming over my head like a deadly cyclone. I want to run away. Disappear. Hide. There’s no escaping my responsibilities, though. If I don’t go to the prison, then Julie will expose me to everyone at school. Yeah, some of them think it’s me already, but the confirmation will set me up for a world of cruelty.
Then there’s the Feast. I used to love that place. It was the one place I could go to be myself, but things have changed. It’s now a place of extortion and coercion. It’s my own living hell.
When I left Vixen’s Lodge last night, I threw up three times during the ride home, and then I tossed all night with nightmare after nightmare tormenting me. If my rents noticed the bags under my eyes this morning, they didn’t say anything, probably assuming the hollowness is from my worry over visiting the prison tomorrow. I wish that was my only worry. I wish it would all just go away.
I need a reminder of why I’m submitting to Master Hill, so after arriving at school for my Health exam, I search the crowd of teachers, hoping to lay eyes on Ty, but I can’t find him.
“I had an interesting call from Vixen’s Lodge this morning, Kitten.” Shaun’s words draw my attention, and I look up at him to notice his eyes analysing my face. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Have you seen Mr Foster?” I look back at the gathered teachers. It’s the Health and PE exam today. He should be here.
“Kitten.” Shaun steps in front of me, blocking my view, cupping each side of my face. “What’s going on?”
On instinct, I tilt my head into his touch, closing my eyes as his caress works to calm me a little.
“What’s wrong?” The familiar scent of Marcus envelopes me as his arms wrap around me from behind. I sink back, eyes closed, as I fight the urge to break down and spill my dark secrets.
