Chapter 14
Rhea
My textbooks mock me from their scattered positions across my bed. I barely have the energy to drag myself to the library these days, but my ability to focus at home is severely lacking. Soon enough, I’ll have to figure out a better balance between schoolwork and the insatiable twins I find myself beholden to. But for now, I just can’t seem to ever say no.
For maybe the hundredth time in the past half hour, my mind drifts to last night's scene with Ethan, and the biting sting of the clamps he put?—
No. Focus.
I shift position on the bed, wincing slightly as my thighs press together. The rope marks there haven't quite faded yet. Dean was particularly creative with his knots a few nights ago…
God, what is wrong with me?
I have midterms coming up, and here I am daydreaming. As if those delicious men don’t take up enough of my time already.
I’m snapped out of yet more droolworthy reminiscing when my phone buzzes against my hip. The text preview instantly kicks my heart into a gallop.
Dean: Come play. Now.
Just three words from Dean, but they make me want to giggle like a preteen. I swipe to open the message without a second thought, before glancing guiltily at my abandoned studying. Professor Shaw's latest essay is due in a week. I should really stay…
Another buzz.
Dean: Don't make me wait.
This time I really do giggle, squirming a little on my sheets in response to his demands. My body's already making the decision for me, even as the rational part of my brain tells me to get a grip. But I can study tomorrow morning. I'm not really absorbing anything tonight anyway. And Dean... Dean doesn't like to be kept waiting.
My fingers type out a quick ‘Yes, Sir’ before the model-student part of my brain can snatch back the reins. The response is immediate.
Dean: That’s my good girl. One hour.
Sliding off the bed, I move to my closet, pushing past the growing collection of long skirts and pants I've had to add to over the past few weeks. What I wear doesn't really matter—Dean will have me stripped and blindfolded within minutes anyway—but the ritual of choosing something always gives me a little thrill. Like I’m presenting him with a pretty gift to unwrap.
My fingers brush against the lace teddy he bought me last week. The memory of his reaction when I first wore it makes me bite my lip. I grab it, along with a simple black maxi dress that's easy enough to remove quickly.
As I change, I catch sight of myself in the mirror. The marks on my legs, my bottom, my back tell a story of the weeks that have passed since that night the twins inexplicably showed up here. Some are fresh and dark, others fading to yellowed memories. Each beautiful blemish represents a moment I offered myself up, a time I pleased them, a boundary I let them push.
My phone buzzes again. I expect another command from Dean, but instead it's a reminder about a study group I’m supposed to be joining tomorrow.
Reality crashes back in like an annoying ex that just won’t leave me alone. But I can’t ignore it completely, as my entire life in Ramona depends on performing well in my studies. I'm a psychology senior on an academic scholarship with a 4.0 GPA, preparing for grad school applications. By day, I analyze generational trauma patterns and debate cognitive development theories. By night...
Well, by night, I'm something else entirely. At least, on the nights I don’t have to work at the restaurant, or those that I spend with Nat because she still has no idea what I’m doing. A sudden pang of guilt stabs my gut at the thought. I don’t know why I still haven’t told her. I just can’t seem to bring myself to say the words out loud.
I’ll tell her soon.
When soon is, I still don’t know. Banishing the thought, I smooth down the dress one last time, checking that it covers all the telling marks. Forty-five minutes until I need to be at the club. Plenty of time to get there, yet my hands shake slightly with restless energy as I pull on my shoes.
The textbooks still lie open on my bed, glaring at me with a silent accusation. I close them firmly, stacking them on my desk. Tomorrow, I'll be the perfect student again.
Tonight, I belong to Dean .
And Ethan.
I'm halfway to the door, purse clutched tight, when I hear keys jangling in the lock. My stomach drops as Nat bursts in, still wearing her work uniform and looking thoroughly exhausted.
"You would not believe the night I just—" She stops mid-sentence, taking in my outfit. "Where are you going?"
"Oh! I, uh..." I shift my weight, desperately searching for a believable lie. "Study group?"
Nat's eyebrows shoot up as she glances at the clock. "At nine? In that ?"
"It's not that late," I mumble, but I can already feel heat creeping up my neck.
"Rhea Foster." Nat crosses her arms, using her 'don't even try it' voice. "You're wearing heels. For a study group?"
I edge toward the door, certain that I’m far more likely to get away with this if I say as little as possible. "I just felt like dressing up?"
"Uh-huh." She plants herself between me and freedom. "And that wouldn't have anything to do with why you've been acting shady for weeks?"
My face burns hotter. "I don't?—"
"Or why you've suddenly developed an obsession with turtlenecks? In California. "
"That's not?—"
"Or maybe," she continues, eyes narrowing, "it has something to do with how you’ve been wincing every time you sit down since Friday?"
I stare at the ground, pulse racing as I avoid her penetrating stare. "Nat..."
"Spill it, sister. Right now."
The words tumble out before I can stop them. "Okay, okay. I've been seeing someone. Two someones, actually."
When I finally find the courage to look up, her jaw is practically on the floor. "Two?—"
"Twins," I whisper.
Nat gapes at me like I've grown a second head. "Twins," she repeats slowly. “Do I…uh, do I know them?”
“You’re gonna freak. Just um, just don’t bite my head off.”
Nat raises an eyebrow as if to say, ‘you know full well I won’t judge’, but little does she know my next words could give her an aneurysm. “It’s…it’s Dean, okay? Dean and his twin brother, Ethan, who works at Deviant. Well, actually…their ex-stepdad owns the place.”
"Holy shit." Nat’s eyes go out of focus as she sinks onto our tiny couch. "Holy actual shit. Dean? Dean, the asshole who you absolutely hate? That Dean? And he has a twin? And their stepdad owns the BDSM club? Is that where you go to see them? Fuck me sideways, Rhea! How long?"
"Yes, yes, yes, and yes. For a few weeks now. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I don’t know if I was feeling embarrassed or what.” I sigh, surprisingly relieved to finally have it out in the open. My phone buzzes in my bag. Probably Dean wondering why I haven’t told him that I’ve left yet. "Look, I really need to?—"
"Oh no." Nat pats the couch cushion beside her. "You're not going anywhere until you tell me everything. And I mean everything , Rhea."
I glance longingly at the door, my cheeks flaming impossibly hot at the prospect of having to voice the details. "He's waiting for me..."
"He can wait a few more minutes. Sit your busted ass down and talk to your best friend."
Despite my anxiety about keeping Dean waiting, I can't help but laugh. I perch on the couch edge, those bruises Nat seems to have guessed about making me flinch a little.
"So..." Nat leans forward, resting her chin on her hand like she’s tuning in to her favorite TV show. "Twins. At the same time, or...?"
"No! God, no. Separately. Very separately." For now. I chew my lip. "They're very...different."
"Different how?"
Another text buzzes. I take a deep breath, knowing there's only one way out of this conversation.
"You really want to know?"
Nat's grin turns wicked. "Every. Single. Detail."
"Well, Dean likes restraints," I begin hesitantly, watching Nat's eyes widen until they might pop out of her skull. "Total control. He never lets me see him during our scenes. Always blindfolds me first thing."
"Scenes?" Nat squeaks. "Like...like Fifty Shades-type shit?"
I nod, finding it easier to talk now that the initial confession is over. "At the club. In the private playrooms."
"Private play—" Nat fans herself dramatically. "And Ethan?"
"Ethan's more... experimental ." My phone buzzes again, making me jump. "He likes to try new things. Always testing my limits. He’s into the whips and the paddles and stuff…"
"Girl!" Nat smacks my arm. "And you've been keeping this from me? For fucking weeks ?"
"I didn't know how to tell you! It's not exactly casual breakfast material. 'Hey, pass the coffee, by the way I'm submitting to two incredibly dominant, identical twins whose ex-stepdad owns a BDSM club.'"
Nat throws her head back with a loud cackle. "I mean, I’m mad at you, but I see your point. This must feel like absolute insanity for you of all people. Of course, I noticed something was up. You've been walking around in this weird daze, looking all flushed and distracted. I just figured you were stressed about midterms, or maybe Professor Shaw."
"Well, I am stressed about midterms. Just...not only midterms."
"I’ll fucking say! Whips and paddles? Holy hell. So that's why you stopped wearing skirts!" Nat's eyes light up with understanding. "I knew something was weird about that. You used to live in them."
I shift uncomfortably. "Yeah, well, turns out rope leaves marks. Not to mention crops and canes, so..."
"Canes?" Nat's voice rises an octave.
"Among other things." I can't help the smile that creeps across my face. "Ethan's very creative with how he leaves his patterns on me."
"And Dean?"
"Dean's more...methodical. Everything has to be just so. The ropes have to be perfect, the positions exact." A shiver licks down my spine as I think about his particular brand of control. "He doesn't stop until everything's precisely how he wants it. And then…then he, uh, gets me off… over and over again till I can’t take anymore."
"Jesus, Mary, and Old Joe,” Nat breathes, studying my face like a complex mathematical equation. "And you’re into that? Both of them being so... intense ?"
"God, yes." The words come out more forceful than I intended. "I never knew I could feel like this. It's like they're unlocking parts of me I didn't even know existed. It’s nothing like the mediocre sex I’ve had in the past."
"Ha, we’ve all had our fair share of mediocre, sis.” She laughs, but then frowns. “But they're not... hurting you, right? Like, actually hurting you?"
I think about the marks decorating my skin, the delicious ache that lingers for days. "Only in ways I want them to."
"Damn." Nat shakes her head in amazement. "My sweet, studious best friend is actually a secret sex demon."
"Hardly," I scoff, but my phone buzzes again and my stomach clenches. Dean must be getting impatient.
Nat notices my reaction. "That's them, isn't it? Which one?"
I nod, pulling out my phone to check. Three messages:
Dean: Where are you?
Dean: You're testing my patience.
Dean: Last warning, sweetheart. I’ll have to punish you.
"Oh god," I breathe. "Dean's going to punish me for being late."
Instead of looking concerned, Nat's grin grows wider. "And that's...a good thing?"
I bite my lip, heat flooding my cheeks. "Maybe?"
"Girl," Nat says slowly, "I can’t actually believe what I’m hearing. Is this a prank? Where’s the hidden camera? April fools is months away."
"Look," I say, hiking up my dress just enough to show the marks on my thighs. "These are from Ethan two days ago."
Nat leans in, examining the purple-red welts with fascination. "Um... That looks hardcore. You asked for those?"
"Yep." I trace one of the marks gently. "I love having these reminders. Knowing that I pleased him, that I took everything he gave me."
"And Dean?"
I pull back my sleeve, revealing the fading rope patterns around my wrist. "He's an artist with rope. Sometimes he'll keep me tied up for hours, just...touching me, teasing me, making me beg."
" Hours? How do you even handle that?"
"I don't exactly handle it. That's kind of the point." My phone buzzes again and I squirm. "I just... surrender. Let them take control."
"Hmm." Nat frowns a little, as if she can’t figure out whether or not I’ve lost my mind. "I can't believe you've been living this double life. Sweet, innocent Rhea by day, and by night..."
"I know. Sometimes I can hardly believe it myself." I glance at my phone again. Four new messages. "But I can't get enough of them. And it, uh…it seems like they can’t get enough of me either.”
"Well, duh, that part should be obvious. You’re a fucking bombshell. I’ve always said so." She pinches my burning cheeks with both hands, making kissy noises until I bat her away.
"Just tell me one thing, sis.” Nat’s expression suddenly grows serious, and I brace myself for my ride-or-die to take on her protective duties like I knew she would. “Do you trust them? Both of them?"
"Completely." I don't even have to think about it. "They never do anything without my consent. We have safe words, boundaries. They check in constantly." Of course, I’m not planning on mentioning the part where Ethan tricked me the first time we met. Nat would have him strung up by his testicles before I could say ‘we kissed and made up.’
"Check in while they're tying you up and spanking you..."
"Yes," I say firmly. "It's all about trust. Surrender. Letting go."
My phone buzzes again. This time I can't help but whimper slightly at the message:
Dean: Your punishment doubles with every minute you make me wait.
"Oh shit," Nat giggles, reading over my shoulder. "He really means it, huh?"
"You have no idea." I stand up, tugging my dress back down. "I really need to go. He's already going to make me pay for being late."
"Okay, okay. But we have so much more to discuss tomorrow! I have so many more questions. You’re sure they’re not taking advantage of you?" There's genuine concern in Nat's voice.
I think about Dean waiting at the club, about the exquisite torture he'll put me through as punishment, about how good it feels to finally let someone else take control. Someone I know won’t abuse that power to make me feel inconsequential. Worthless, even.
"No, Nat. I ask for it," I say softly. "I need it. They make me feel treasured."
"Well then," Nat jumps up, suddenly all business. "We can't keep your Dom waiting any longer. But first," she grabs my shoulders, fixing me with a final serious look, "Promise me something?"
"What?"
"No more secrets. I want to hear everything from now on. The good, the bad, the deliciously dirty. Deal?"
I groan. "Nat..."
"Deal?" She shakes me slightly. "I'm your best friend. I should know when you're getting thoroughly railed by hot twins. Jeez, this is ten times better than the professor."
"Fine," I laugh. "Deal. But you have to promise not to judge."
"Judge?" Nat snorts, herding me towards the door. "Honey, I'm taking notes. Speaking of which..." She wiggles her eyebrows. "Any chance either of them has an equally sexy friend they could introduce me to?"
"Nat!"
"What? You're clearly having the time of your life. Maybe I want to explore my kinky side too."
I check my phone again. Six messages now. "I don’t know if you’re suited to the whole ‘following orders’ thing. This is... intense."
"Oh, I can tell." She helps me into my jacket, then spins me around to check my appearance. "Hair's good, makeup's not too obvious... You look perfect for a night of debauchery."
"Thanks," I mutter, but I'm smiling. My phone buzzes in my purse again and I wince.
"Ooh, someone's in trouble." Nat practically pushes me out the door. "Don't let me keep you from your punishment."
"You're terrible."
"And you're about to be terribly satisfied." She winks. "Now go. But I want details tomorrow!"
"We'll see." I step into the hallway, then pause. "Hey, Nat? Thanks for... you know. Being cool about this."
"Are you kidding? This is the most exciting thing that's happened all year. Now go get your kinky on! I’m living vicariously through you for the foreseeable future."
I hurry down the stairs, Nat's laughter following me every step. I anxiously swipe at my phone, terrified that if I leave it too long, Dean will just cancel.
Me: On my way. I'm sorry for the delay. Nat caught me leaving.
His response is immediate.
Dean: Got it. Glad you made it out. But you're still going to pay for making me wait.
The clear warning should terrify me. Instead, it just makes me move faster towards whatever he has in store.