Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ashleigh
Master
I’m going to be late tonight. Don’t worry about trying to stay up for me. I’ll make sure I wake you up properly when I get there. :)
A soft smile flits across my lips as I answer back with a smiley face. Honestly, my favorite moments are when he wakes me up from a deep sleep with his tongue deep inside my pussy. Unfortunately, the contented feeling doesn’t seem to last long.
I’m restless. There’s an itch under my skin, a need to move, to change. It’s not the same as when I’ve needed to brat so he’ll take me in hand. This is something different. It’s bone-deep and exhausting.
Packing up my stuff, I slump down onto a nearby stone bench and watch the fountain bubble up. Perhaps it’s the weather. Even now, a soft breeze tousles my hair, dispelling the warmth of the sun. It’s not hot. It’s not cold. Almost like a false spring. Balmy even.
It makes every molecule come alive and want to dance. Unfortunately, I have no partner. With Dean Anderson off at some convention, it leaves me all by myself. Again, I try to figure out what this is. I just want to... live. It’s the only way I can describe it.
Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I walk over to the fountain and study the spray. It’s pretty enough, but not nearly as ornate as the one in the maze. I know Dean Anderson said it was all off limits, but what harm is there in doing my classwork by the fountain?
It’s not like I’ll be in the thick of things. Besides, at this point in the day, there really shouldn’t be anyone there. At least, I can only assume so. Dean Anderson never really gave me the play-by-play of what went on when there weren’t any initiations happening.
Glancing at my phone, I reread the text. He’s not going to be home until late anyway. If I’m remembering correctly, there are no cameras in the maze. So how will he even know?
The niggle of guilt at directly disobeying him gives way to exhilaration. It’s been a bit since I’ve put my snooping skills to use. Only now, instead of getting a scoop, I’ll be hiding away in a lush paradise fraught with sexual tension.
It’s so much easier to break the rules when my mind is made up. Besides, I’ll need these skills for when I’m really reporting on something. At least now, I can do it in a safe environment. Win-win.
As I drive up past the tennis courts, I pull off nearby and park. This way, no one will know I’m up there. They’ll just think I’m in one of the courts.
It’s a slight trek, but the weather is pretty enough that it doesn’t bother me one bit. In fact, it feels good to get some cardio that doesn’t involve dirtying the sheets or the dean’s desk. Not that I’ll ever say no to sex.
Sweat trickles down the back of my neck as the maze comes into view. My only real concern is getting lost in this thing. There’s no guarantee I’ll be able to find the exit point I almost came out of. As I walk around the perimeter, I stop at a gap a bit down. This could be it?
Fuck. I really didn’t think things through. Did I?
I set my backpack on the ground and dig around until I find my notebook. As much as I hate to waste paper, making a trail seems like the best idea. That way, I can at least find my way out if I get turned around.
The moment I step inside, the temperature drops a few degrees due to the shadows the massive walls create. A shiver races down my spine as I ease myself down the first path and put a small piece of paper into the leaves every several feet. Naughty. Forbidden. Taboo.
Not quite as bad as what the dean and I did that night, but being back here sparks the familiar feelings until my clit throbs with each step I take as each one causes my thighs to rub together. I bite back a moan as I run my fingers over the leaves and memorize the soft texture. Since there’s no countdown, I can really enjoy the space and explore it.
I would like to think the exit looks familiar to me, but all the walls look the same. Still though, I follow the instructions as best as I can remember them. Right. Left. Left. Left. Right. Right Left. Hopefully, I’ve repeated it back to myself correctly. Time will only tell.
As I follow the motions, things begin to feel right. Granted, with it being daytime, the shadows are a bit different and leaves glow a bright green instead of a beer bottle olive. Soon, I reach the long path. Same as when I was there last time.
My pulse quickens in my chest as I look behind me. No one. Not even a breath of a sound. The only thing I can hear is the rapid staccato of my heartbeat as it pounds so loud it floods the space around me.
This time, there will be no dean at the end. There will be no masked man waiting to defile and devour me. Part of me mourns the fact that it will be only me at the center, but it’s edged out with the excitement of doing something he expressly told me not to do.
As I slip in and out of the last walls, I peek around the corner to make sure I’m truly alone. All that’s there is the beautiful fountain and stone benches. I have no idea how in the world I’ll be able to turn one of them into a cross, but then again, I don’t need that to enjoy the space.
I set my bag down and sit astride the hunk of stone. Heat seeps into my muscles as I rock back and forth, recapturing the eroticism of that night. That one night that changed my world forever.
Arousal builds deep within me until it’s impossible to keep my hands to myself. Lying back, I slide my hand into my shorts and under my thong. I’m already soaking wet. It seems like I’ll never not be wet since meeting the dean.
A soft moan slips from my lips as I touch myself, grazing my stiff clit with my slick fingers. Everything else melts away as I explore my body and picture my dean as the one touching me. Granted, if he were here, it would certainly be a bit more painful than this.
As I continue to pleasure myself and let my imagination run wild, a loud snap thunders in my ears. Fuck. I’m not alone. Yanking my hand from my shorts, I sit up and listen again. There. Closer now. Shit. Shit. Shit.
I grab my bag and look around, desperate for a place to hide. The mausoleum. It’s the only place I can think of. Thankfully, it’s close.
Sweat pours down my neck as I fumble with the door. It’s not like any normal handle I’ve seen. Reaching around, I find a smooth spot and place my thumb, just like with my door in the sorority house. If this doesn’t open it, then there’s no way I can keep this from Dean Anderson.
As much as I revel in the idea of his punishment, I don’t actually want him mad or disappointed in me. It was stupid to do this. Stupid to break his rules like this.
Please , I pray to whatever God might hear me. If I get out of this, I’ll never come back unless he’s with me or gives me permission. I promise.
It’s as if that someone hears me. In an instant, the door gives, opening enough for me to slip in and close it. Perfect timing, too. From the inside, I can hear someone shuffling around outside.
With my phone’s flashlight, I take a quick look around and spot a pile of chairs and tables. It takes a little work, but I manage to slip behind them without making too much noise. When the door opens, sending in a flood of light, my heart nearly seizes in my chest.
A flashlight dances over the space and rests on me every so often. My lungs cramp as I hold my breath, doing what I can to not get caught. How this person doesn’t see me, I don’t even know.
“Nothing in here. Yeah. I think whoever it was is long gone. Keep checking the other parts of the maze, but the trail stopped before the main lane. Yeah. I’ll head back to the exit and wait.”
Fuck. How do I get out of here? Should I just give up?
Even given how much trouble I know I’ll be in, there’s still that bite of exhilaration, that feeling that makes my gut clench and my pussy cream as I plot out how to escape. Turning my flashlight back on, I look for the door Dean Anderson took me through. Once I’m inside the castle, I should have more options.
Besides, there were a few cars out there. Maybe I can just sneak out with some of them? Only problem is, there’s no doorknob. If only I can remember what he did that night. With a frustrated grunt, I shove against the square and jump back as it opens up. Whether some divine being is smiling down at me or Dean Anderson is giving me enough rope for me to hang myself with is yet to be seen.
I slip through the door and go down the hall. It opens back up into that room he and I were in and just looking at that bed brings all those feelings back. It’s perfectly made, as if no one has ever slept there before. For some reason, it makes my heart ache.
It doesn’t make any sense. All I want to do is roll about on the sheets and mess them back up, to show that I was there. It happened. He fucked me that night. Shaking my head, I force those thoughts out and ease over to the door.
There, off to the side, are a few masks. Some look masculine while the others are decidedly feminine. If I want to make it out of here with no one being the wiser, I might need to mask up. This way, even if there are cameras, they won’t know it’s me. Not with one hundred percent accurately, at least.
Plausible deniability. The bread and butter of any good reporter.
Slipping the mask over my face, I shift my bag over my shoulder. Soft noises flit in and out as I pass by certain rooms, piquing my curiosity. I know what the dean did to me, but that doesn’t mean I know what others in The Society do. As quietly as I can, I ease into one of the rooms where the door stands ajar.
As I enter, however, I stop short. Perhaps I heard wrong, and it’s another room. This one doesn’t seem to be occupied.
However, as I go to leave, a voice calls out to me. “About time you showed up. I was beginning to think I was going to have to punish you.” The voice is familiar, but I can’t completely place it.
Not worth it. As curious as I am, I know my own limits. I’m not supposed to be here in the first place. To engage another member would be such an insult to an already grievous injury. There’s no way in hell I would be able to explain this to my dean.
I go to leave, but a strong hand encircles my wrist, pulling me back. For a moment, my heart stutters in my chest, making everything feel wobbly and loose. My vision goes in and out as I yank and tug. But no matter what I do, he doesn’t let go.
“That’s right, baby. Fight me. You know I love a good struggle.”
Images of Doctor Andrew tying me up in that cold, calculated, methodical way of his flashes through my mind. Coach Luke as he ranted and raved plays through my head. Fear. Pure, unadulterated fear. This is what Dean Anderson was trying to tell me. This is what he wanted to convey.
These men aren’t like him. They can and will hurt me.
“Please,” I whimper, as I tug again.
“Begging already? I thought you’d hold out much longer than that. Good thing I plan to make you cry out even more.”
As I go to jerk again, his hands suddenly leave my wrist. I spiral out onto the floor and my bag goes skidding. His footsteps echo through the room as he walks over to me. The heavy thudding sound matches the deep pound of my heart in my skull until it’s all I can hear.
“Where the fuck is your bracelet? Identify yourself, submissive.”
When I don’t answer, he walks over and flips me up until I can finally see his face. Thatcher. Oh. Oh God. This is bad. He knows me. He knows my parents. He knows the dean. Fuck. There’s no way I can get out of this now.
As he reaches for my mask, I do the only thing I can think of. Self-preservation kicks in as I lift my foot and drive my heel into his balls. His soft grunt as he slides forward gives me a spark of hope. Maybe if I can get away, everything will be okay. But as I turn to crawl toward the door, his hand grabs my ankle and yanks hard, pulling me under him."
“You’re going to pay for that,” he snaps, his voice flooded with deadly venom. With a jerk of his wrist, he pulls off my mask. Everything stops as he stares down at me. His jaw goes slack as his gaze travels down my body. “Miss Ashleigh Hartwell. There’s absolutely no reason for you to be down here. That is, unless you belong to someone. Anyone I know?”
His voice drips over me like an oily film sliding off of a dirty exhaust pipe. Any lie I might conjure flees, leaving me a quivering mess as I try to say something. Anything.
“I- I got lost. I’m sorry.”
“Lying doesn’t become you, Ashleigh.” Again, he looks at my wrist. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think someone doesn’t want us to know you’re a member of this group. Only one person has that power.” His lips twist for a moment but quickly ease into a dark smirk. “Does our fearless leader know you’re down here without him?”
“No.” I finally admit as I hang my head.
“Tell you what. You don’t tell him about our little interaction, and I won’t tell him you were somewhere without his permission. Does that sound like a deal to you?”
Hesitation slows my brain as I desperately try to make it work. Can it really be this easy? Is it truly possible to get away with this?
“I’d take the deal, Ashleigh. After all, I’m not really the one in the wrong here. Without identification, I didn’t know who you were. And you did assault me. It could be much worse.”
“D- deal.”
My stomach churns as he helps me to my feet and hands me my bag. Once the mask is back in place, he helps me out the door and into his car.
“Just remember. You didn’t see me, and I didn’t see you. Your parents don’t have to know about this, do they?”
His veiled threat sits heavy on my ears. “No. They don’t.”
I can only hope I don’t come to regret this.