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“Makes sense,” Eva says. “I never liked him or his brother, using girls the way they did on campus.” She pauses for a heartbeat, and I can almost see her nose wrinkle. “Micah is even worse than Sade. He likes to make girls feel like shit after he uses them. But neither of them ever forced anyone, and what Sade did at the party, well. It bordered on non-con. It broke the pattern. It didn’t make any sense, but now it’s clear–he knew you wanted him.”
“So now we’re using Annie’s romance book code words for that stuff, huh?”
“Guess we are.”
“Okay, so now what? He has to upload that footage of us in the garden on group chats, or war will break loose between the Kings’ families. While part of me understands why he has to do it, I still...” Fuck, it hurts even to entertain the idea, but I must. “I just can’t see him anymore.”
“No, you can’t. But it doesn’t seem to me like he’s willing–or even able–to let you go at this point.”
Silence fills the bathroom except for the distant sound of the party. Eva eventually takes a deep breath. “You know I hate giving advice since people rarely ever take any, but I think what you need right now is time to heal.” Then, softer. “It’s no secret that you’re in love with Sade.” She gives me time to deny it, but I don’t. “I’m positive he’s seriously torn about you, too. The risks he took in order to claim you, then to protect you, they’re huge for someone of his caliber. A lot was at stake. But things will only get nasty if you both insist on this. On experiencing each other beyond what has already happened. You won’t be able to pull back anymore.” Her tone becomes grave. “You have to let go, Justine, because he won’t be able to.”
***
Justine
THE NEXT FEW DAYS ONcampus are a challenge for my frail nerves. The girls have been keeping an eye out for footage of me in all sorts of group chats, but apparently, nothing came up. I wonder what Sade did to appease his fiancee about that. To delay the inevitable.
I scoff to myself as that word crosses my mind, and the top of my lip liner breaks against my mouth. I suppose I applied it with too much zeal when Gertrude’s insufferable face crossed my mind, attached to the term ‘Sade’s fiancee’. At least I didn’t have to actually see her the whole week. Whatever project she manipulated between her school and ours was apparently done right after the weekend when she ordered my demise at the mansion, but I’m willing to bet she’s gonna be there tonight.
The Scream My Name Party is the highlight of the academic year. Okay, the Christmas Ball of Curiosities is huge too, but not such a fabulous chance to get freaky. Some prefer Ultimate Cosplay in spring, but getting slutty is frowned upon then. Unlike most college events, these three take place in campus buildings instead of the campus pub because it’s simply too big of an occasion to be contained in small places.
If the Royales mansion is a gothic castle, then the school is a whole assembly of palaces that make the entire campus resemble a twisted Hogwarts in the woods. It’s not impossible to imagine all sorts of twisted mysteries happening here. We actually have one on our hands right now. Everyone’s asking the question–what happened to Dean? No one has heard from him ever since he was reported missing, but the police didn’t find anything that would lead them to believe that he’s dead either.
I take a break with the crayon in my hand, popping my lips in the mirror and checking if I’d care.
Nope. Still wouldn’t.
Maybe faced with the actual situation, I’d feel differently. Or maybe it’s a different version of me that stares back from the mirror, or maybe Sade has taken away from me the ability to feel shame or compassion for those who hurt me, but there it is. The naked truth. I actually believe that, whatever happened to my ex-boyfriend, the bastard probably deserved it.
“Wow,” Mel says, leaning against the doorway of her bathroom and staring at me in the mirror. “I had my doubts when you said Maleficent, but damn, girl.”
I smile at her reflection in the mirror. I didn’t think the bright red lipstick would go well on my face either, but I really wanted to be a bad girl tonight. If the shit hits the fan, then I wanted to be prepared for it. I’mnotgoing to face porn footage of me in group chats looking like a scared chicken. I have to be on top of the situation.
So black horns it was, my hair entirely hidden under the cap–it was a challenge, but I finally managed. Annie tried to help with the face contouring, but her makeup skills are shit, so I had to do that myself. Still, there are some serious differences from the original Maleficent. A black dress with high shoulders wraps my body, the front open to reveal a gold corset with a spiderweb pattern. The dress is split right at the juncture of my thighs, the sides closing over my naked legs to cover them completely when I’m not moving, but revealing the garters around them every time I put one foot in front of the other. The toughest choice was what to wear on my feet, but after some pondering, I decided on high heels.
“Are you sure about that?” Eva puts in with a frown, appearing with her arms crossed next to Mel. A dangerous-eyed Elsa the Ice Queen with thick black eyeliner next to a scholarly witch. “I mean, no offense, but the outfit isn’t just sexy. It’s downright porn.”
She’s right. There’s something about those harnesses on naked flesh that gives it that vibe. But that’s just what I went after, because the shy good girl everyone knew me as just won’t fly with the me that the entire campus is going watch once those videos go live.
I have no idea when that’s going to be. Sade wouldn’t tell me.
Despite everyone’s warnings, we’ve been seeing each other all week, even if only online, in a highly secured chat. He’s been video calling me every night, asking to watch me masturbate. He wanted me to pump my pussy and my ass, as if he were fucking both my holes at the same time.
“That’s it, baby, get that ass ready for this monster cock,” he growled while pumping himself. My breath hitched, my toes curled, and I came all over my fingers, longing for the full sensation that only he could give me.
I wanted pics from him, too, and he sent them. No questions asked.
The last one was of him with his dick in his hand, cum all over his powerful fist. In our chat, he’d give me whatever I wanted.
“Aren’t you worried that I might spread these pics of you?” I teased last night, leaning on my side on the pillow, facing my phone.
“No,” he said, plain and simple.
“Because you are powerful enough to take them down?”
“Because you’re too possessive to share me. You want to be the only woman who sees me naked, who watches me come. You’re very territorial like that, pretty poet.”
I bit my lip because there was no point in denying it. No point in lying. He would know.
