Chapter 11
Everly
The smell of soap and fresh linens fills my nostrils as I scrub a particularly stubborn stain out of a donated shirt. My mind, however, is a million miles away. The pristine, controlled chaos of Ember’s Glow—a place where hope and healing are rebuilt brick by brick—couldn’t feel farther from the carnal, messy transaction that happened in Xavier’s dungeon last night.
Max walks by, humming a jaunty tune, and shoots me a sunny smile. He always feels like a balm, but today, he's more like a slap. How can I even look at him after what I did? After what I let happen?
Yesterday, I had my first with a woman. It was my first time letting someone as wild and untamed as Lila touch me like that. And Xavier was there, too. His voice, low and encouraging, pushed me into a corner where I didn’t know who was in control anymore. He whispered praises, but his eyes—that look they had, like he was cataloging every shiver and gasp—left me feeling both violated and adored.
I glance around nervously, half-expecting Xavier or Lila to materialize out of thin air. A shiver runs through me at the thought. After last night, would they just pick up like it never happened? The nonchalance of it all makes my stomach churn, but the idea of seeing them again—of seeing either of them—doesn’t fill me with dread. It evokes another feeling entirely. Curiosity? Or hunger? I don’t know.
Max waves at me, breaking the thread of my thoughts.
“Hey, Everly,” he calls, leaning against the doorway. “You okay? You’ve been zoning out all morning.”
I force a smile, mentally berating myself for being such a mess. “Yeah, just, uh, thinking about some new programs we can run here.”
He nods, neutrally polite, but his brow furrows slightly, like he suspects something. “Need help planning? I’d love to get more involved.”
His enthusiasm is usually admirable, but today it only makes me feel more like a fraud. Max is na?ve, sure, but he’s good. How can I explain to him that last night I was tied up and let a woman touch me in ways I’ve never imagined?
Could I even begin to explain to Max what happened without feeling like a hypocrite? Without feeling dirty?
“Everly?”
I snap back to reality, realizing I must’ve zoned out again. “Sorry, Max. Just... planning. Yeah, planning.”
He eyes me suspiciously, then shrugs. “Okay, I’ll let you get back to it. But hey, if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”
His words are kind, but they stab me all the same. Do I need someone to talk to? Yes. But I can’t talk to him about this. I can’t talk to anyone about this. It’s a secret now, buried deep inside me, blooming like a poison flower.
I dip my head, focusing on the shirt in front of me. “Thanks, Max.”
When he finally walks away, I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside me. The clock on the wall ticks forward, and before I know it, the day winds down.
As I lock up for the day, I wonder what dinner will be like tonight. The idea both terrifies and excites me—a dangerous cocktail of emotions I’m ill-equipped to handle. But more than anything, I feel a flicker of warmth, maybe, or nostalgia. No—longing. Longing for the familiarity of Xavier’s arms, the way they felt last night when he held me after everything.
I shake my head, trying to dispel the thought. I shouldn’t feel this way. It’s wrong. It’s complicated. It’s everything I’ve ever sworn I wouldn’t let myself feel.
But I do feel it, and that’s the cruelest part.
With a quiet sigh, I step out into the cool evening air, leaving Ember’s Glow behind. The streets stretch out before me, and somewhere between the safe familiarity of my work and the uncertainty of home, I realize I’m closer to Xavier now than I ever was before. Whether I want that or not is another question entirely.
And so I head to Xavier's place, carrying with me the weight of last night and the quiet ache of wanting more.
Later, when I'm getting ready for dinner, I stand in front of my wardrobe, staring at the sea of skirts and blouses I usually don for work. Today feels different, though. I need to make a conscious choice to present myself in a way that's daring. My fingers brush over a blouse with a neckline slightly lower than usual, its soft fabric a whisper against my skin. It's subtle, but it feels intentional. Eh, it'd have to do for now.
As I dress, I can't shake the anticipation building inside me. Tonight isn't a normal dinner; it's about seeing where I fit into Xavier's world after a session like that, about proving I can navigate this new terrain.
And how will they see me now? Can I figure that out? Will it be obvious?
As I approach, the dining room sounds like it usually does. I can hear dolls setting food and plates down. I enter the room and search for Xavier and Lila—but my eyes land on only Sable and Winter instead.
Sable's smirk is immediate, something knowing that cuts through me. "Expecting someone else?" she drawls, her voice laced with amusement.
I feel a flush creep into my cheeks, embarrassment swirling in my stomach. Did she know? Had Xavier told them about last night?
"Of course I was expecting someone else," I snap back sharply. "We usually all have dinner together."
Sable chuckles, the sound low and mocking. "I wouldn't get too comfortable with the seating arrangement if I were you."
Before she can say more, Winter cuts in, her tone firm. "Let's just eat." There's a finality in her voice that dismisses any further conversation.
I take my seat and lower my gaze, not daring to meet their eyes. My fork moves aimlessly as I prod at my food, the clink of silverware the only sound in the silence.
The dining room feels colder now without Xavier and Lila. Questions swirl in my mind—where are they? What are they doing? The jealousy bubbles up, unwanted and sharp. Yet, amidst the turmoil, a shocking pang of longing strikes me. I miss Xavier, miss his presence, his control. It's a frightening admission, one that leaves me breathless.
I concentrate on my food, forcing myself to eat despite the knot in my throat. My bites feel labored, the taste muted against the cacophony of emotions warring within me. The fear, the confusion, the inexplicable desire—all collide, leaving me raw and exposed.
As I stand to leave after dinner, my heart throbs in my chest. The past few weeks settle over me like a shroud, thick and suffocating. I glance around the dining room, my eyes scanning the faces of the dolls. Sable’s smirk lingers, while Winter’s expression remains cold.
Before I can fully process the tension, Winter’s voice slices through the air.
“Everly,” she says, her tone commanding. “Xavier has ordered a session for you. I’ll be leading it, with Sable’s assistance.”
My stomach twists at her words. A session. With Winter and Sable? I grip the edge of the table. My mind races, searching for any reassurance, but there’s none to be found. I glance toward the doorway, half-expecting Xavier to appear and intervene. But he’s nowhere to be seen.
“And don’t think this is a punishment,” Winter adds, her voice lacing with thinly veiled amusement. “This is an opportunity. I don’t mince words, and Sable here doesn’t beat around the bush. But between the two of us, we’ll take good care of you.”
The thought barely registers before Sable’s laughter pierces through the tension, sharp and biting. “Oh, sugar,” she drawls, standing and sauntering over with a confident strut. “Winter’s just trying to save your ass. But don’t worry. We’re gonna have fun. Might even learn a thing or two about yourself.”
I swallow hard, forcing myself to nod. “Thank you,” I say, though it feels hollow, even to my own ears.
Winter narrows her eyes. “You’re welcome,” she says, her tone clipped. “Meet us there in two hours.”
* * *
When I step inside the dungeon, my eyes graze over them, committing their outfits to memory, desperate to understand the clues in their wardrobes.
Winter’s ensemble is as stark and intentional as her personality. She’s dressed in a sleeveless black bodysuit, the material tight and form-fitting, emphasizing her sharp angles. Over it, a tailored black jacket, its sharp lines and pointed lapels accentuating her asceticism. Her hair is pulled into a severe ponytail, the platinum strands gleaming under the harsh overhead lights. Around her neck, a thin silver chain glints faintly.
Sable, on the other hand, looks like she stepped out of a biker’s fantasy. Her outfit is dominated by leather, tight and dangerous. A form-fitting black leather corset hugs her curves, the deep neckline revealing ample cleavage. She wears matching leather pants that cling to her thighs and end just above her knees, the hem jagged and asymmetrical. Her studded, heeled combat boots add an extra inch of height to her already imposing frame. Her fiery red hair cascades down her back, loose and wild.
Both of them carry themselves with a confidence that makes my hands tremble. I brace myself against the doorframe, my breath shallow.
Winter’s eyes lock with mine, her expression blank. “Good evening, Everly,” she says, her voice calm but commanding. “You’re on time.”
I nod, my throat tight. “Thank you.”
Her lips twitch into a faint smile, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Let’s begin.”
Winter and Sable stand side by side, an imposing duo. I feel their eyes on me, assessing, judging. My body is on display, and I can't help but feel self-conscious under their gaze.
"Come here, Everly," Winter says, her voice cool and detached.
I approach them, my steps faltering. My eyes dart between them, taking in their fierce expressions.
Winter reaches out and grabs my chin, her long, manicured nails digging into my skin. "You will address me as 'Mistress' during this session. Do you understand?"
I swallow, my mouth dry. "Yes, Mistress."
She runs her thumb over my lower lip, her touch sending a spark of desire through me. "Good. Now, get on your knees."
I lower myself to the floor, my legs shaking slightly.
Sable circles around me like a predator, her boots thudding on the hard floor. She stops behind me, and I feel her hands on my shoulders, strong and demanding.
"You hold yourself too tightly, little bird. We're going to have to fix that."
I flinch at the unexpected touch and pet name, my breath quickening.
Winter's eyes narrow. "Relax, Everly. This is a safe space. You're here to learn and explore."
I nod, trying to calm my racing heart.
Winter steps back, and Sable takes over. Her hands slide down my arms, then back up again as she guides me to stand. "Arms by your side, palms facing forward. Close your eyes."
I obey, my heart still pounding. I feel the brush of fabric against my skin as Sable shifts behind me.
"Count backward from 10," she instructs. "And don't move until you reach zero."
"Ten," I whisper.
I feel the soft whisper of Sable's breath against my ear. "Good girl," she purrs.
My mind clears, focusing on the numbers. With each count, I feel more relaxed, more open to their guidance.
"Now, open your eyes." Winter's voice snaps me back to attention.
I blink, finding myself face-to-face with Winter. She runs a hand through my hair, her touch gentle but firm. "Now we begin the real lesson."
Sable moves to stand beside Winter, her hands on her hips. "Now you get to show us what you're made of. Don't disappoint."
I bite my lip, anticipation and anxiety warring within me. The whole day, I've been thinking about Xavier and Lila. But here, there's no way I can keep that up.
Now, there's only Winter and Sable.
Winter smiles coldly. "Undress, Everly. Slowly."
My fingers tremble as I reach for the buttons on my blouse, my cheeks heating. This is the blouse I chose for Xavier. I reveal myself inch by inch. I finish undressing, discarding my clothing on the floor. Then I stand before them, naked and vulnerable, fighting the urge to cover myself.
Winter's eyes roam over me, taking in every curve and dip. "Exquisite."
Sable's gaze burns into me, and she licks her lips. "Indeed."
I feel their desire like a tangible thing. This is the first time either of them have looked at me with lingering interest. It feels different from both of them, and yet at the same time, neither feels wrong.
They're both exciting me with only a look.
Winter reaches out and takes my hand, leading me toward one of the apparatuses—a St. Andrew's cross made of dark wood and leather restraints.
"Here, you will learn control and surrender."
I swallow my nerves as they guide me into position, securing my wrists and ankles to the cross. The leather is soft against my skin, and I feel exposed, every inch of me on display.
Winter runs a finger down my arm, her touch sending goosebumps across my skin. "You will count each strike. If you lose count, we start again. Do you understand?"
Each strike?
Despite the fear her words immediately send shooting through me, I nod, my breath fast. "Yes, Mistress."
Sable stands on one side, Winter on the other, their eyes gleaming. How long have they waited for this moment?
How long have I?
Winter raises her hand, and I flinch, anticipating the strike. The slap of her palm against my skin stings, and I bite my lip to hold back a moan.
"One," I whisper.
Again and again, Winter's hand connects with my skin, a rhythmic dance of pain and pleasure. I lose myself in the count, my body alive with sensation.
Suddenly, Sable's hand connects with my cheek, a sharp contrast to Winter's measured strikes. "F-five," I stammer, my body jerking at the unexpected impact.
They take turns, one measured, the other erratic. My body trembles, my skin burning with the imprint of their hands.
"You're doing well, Everly," Winter purrs, her hand trailing down my chest. "But we're not done yet."
Sable's hand cups my breast, her thumb teasing my nipple. "Not even close."
I bite my lip, my body arching into their touch. Winter's hand snakes down between my legs, her fingers teasing my core. "You're wet, Everly. So very wet."
I whimper, my body singing my need.
Sable's fingers join Winter's, their touch sending sparks of pleasure through me. "You like this, don't you?"
"Y-yes," I whisper, my head falling back as they continue their torment.
Winter chuckles. "Such a good girl."
Their fingers dance over me, teasing. They caress me, squeezing my flesh, cupping my cheek, ghosting between my legs just lightly enough to make me shiver. I can't hold back my moans, my body begging for more. I want these beautiful women to keep touching me. I want to drown in this sensation.
"Please," I hear myself begging.
Winter's eyes darken. "Please, what?"
"Please, Mistress. I need—"
She slaps my thigh, the sting jolting through me. "You need what?"
"I need more, Mistress!" I cry out.
Sable's fingers tease my nipples, twisting and pulling. "Good. We're not done with you. But you'll need to be patient."
I cry out in frustration, my body taut with need.
Winter's free hand reaches up, trailing a finger down my cheek. "You're doing so well, Everly. But we have one more lesson for you."
I whimper, my body throbbing with unfulfilled desire. "Anything, Mistress."
Winter smiles, her eyes glinting with a dangerous light. "Sable, fetch the riding crop."
My eyes widen as Sable retrieves the implement I had only just been acquainted with last night. Fuck, not that.
"N-no," I whimper out, unable to stop myself. Did Xavier specifically tell them to use it? I want to ask for the flogger, but the second that request is on the tip of my tongue, a terrifying thought hits me:
What if I get more strikes from the crop because I asked for something different?
Winter's eyes sparkle as she watches my internal struggle. "This will hurt, Everly. But remember, you're safe with us. You know your safe words, right?"
That's right, I can stop this. But does that mean I never wanted it to stop before?
I nod, my breath coming in short gasps as Sable runs the crop lightly over my skin. I'm anticipating the hits before they even come, my body flinching at the slightest flick of Sable's wrist. She knows exactly what she's doing.
Winter's voice is soft but commanding. "Count, Everly. As before."
The first strike lands, and I cry out, the sting like fire against my skin. "One," I manage.
The second strike of the riding crop cracks against my thigh, the sharp sting burning through my skin. I gasp, my breath hitching as tears well up in the corners of my eyes. The sound of the crop slicing through the air is magnified in my ears, each swish making my muscles tense in dread.
"Two," I whisper, forcing the word out through gritted teeth. My hands curl instinctively into fists against the restraints as I fight to stay still.
Winter’s expression remains impassive. Sable raises the crop again, and I flinch before it even lands. The third strike hits my other thigh, the pain mirroring the first. I bite down on my lip, the metallic taste of blood mingling with the salty tang of my tears.
"Three." My voice cracks.
Sable's eyes gleam with a dangerous intensity. She brushes the tip across my stomach before she snaps the crop sharply against my hip. The pain is searing, and I jerk violently against the restraints, my breath catching in a sob.
"Four!" I cry out, my resolve trembling, my mind racing to my safe words. Yellow. Red. They hover on the edge of my tongue, but I don’t let them escape. I won’t say them.
Sable’s lips twist into a cruel smile, and she strikes again, this time on the side of my ass cheek. The sting radiates through my flesh, and I let out a raw, guttural moan, my body arching futilely against the cross.
"Five," I choke out, my words dissolving into a jagged breath. The crop whistles through the air once more, and I scream as it lands on my breast, the pain shooting through me like an electric current. My body shudders, my mind reeling as I scramble to keep count.
"Six!"
Another strike lands, this one lower, just above the curve of my hip. The pain is blinding, and I feel the warm trickle of tears streaming down my cheeks. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my chest heaving as I strain against the restraints.
"Seven!"
The crop cracks against my outer thigh again, and I scream, my voice raw, the sound echoing through the room. My entire body feels alive with pain, each strike a burning brand seared into my flesh. But beneath the agony, a strange, thrumming heat pulses through me, a twisted, unwanted arousal.
"Eight!" I shout, my voice breaking, my body trembling uncontrollably.
Sable pauses, the crop hovering in the air as she studies me. Her face gives nothing away, but I glimpse approval in her gaze. Winter steps closer, her fingers wiping away the tears streaking my face.
"You’re doing well," she murmurs, her voice calm, almost soothing. "You’re so strong, Everly."
The praise is a balm to my fraying nerves, but it doesn’t dull the fear of the next strike. No, not until Sable tosses it away with a smile. I release a sigh and sag heavily in my restraints. My head rests in Winter's delicate touch.
Winter runs a gentle hand over my marks. "You did well, Everly. Very well."
Sable's eyes shine with a mixture of respect and desire. "Yes, you did, little bird."
Winter steps back, and Sable moves to stand before me, her eyes burning into mine. "You've earned your release, Everly."
Sable’s cool hands rub over my heated skin, soothing me. Her fingers glide over me with an air of ownership, tracing the curves of my body as if mapping uncharted territory. I feel her eyes on me, heavy and unrelenting, filled with a hunger that mirrors the ache deep within me.
Winter watches us, and I can sense her approval. She seems to understand something I’m just beginning to realize—this isn’t just about submission or pain. It’s about desire, raw and unfiltered. And I feel it, not just for Xavier, but for them. For Winter, with her icy demeanor and calculated touch, and for Sable, with her rough hands and choking intensity. I want to see them, to know them, to feel them in ways I’m only beginning to comprehend.
Sable’s hands linger on my hips, her fingertips digging into my flesh as she pulls me closer, though I’m bound and can’t move. Her face is inches from mine, her breath a whisper against my skin.
“You’re flushed,” she murmurs, her voice low and throaty. “So beautifully flushed.”
I feel her desire like a pulse in the air, and I respond to it, my body arching slightly in her direction despite the restraints. I want her to touch me more, to keep touching me, to never stop.
And I want more than that.
I can't believe the hushed words that leave my mouth.
"I want to see you, Mistress. I want to see both of you."
My cheeks flame, but I can't take it back now. I want to see their bodies, touch them as they've touched me. I want to explore their curves, feel their skin against mine.
Sable's eyes glint with surprise and desire. She steps back, her hands moving to her corset. I hungrily watch her untie it, then she pulls it over her head, revealing a lacy black bra that contrasts beautifully with her pale skin. Her hands go to the button of her leather pants, slowly undoing each one before sliding them down her legs. She stands before me in nothing but her lingerie and boots, her body a vision of toned curves and smooth skin.
Winter's eyes sparkle with amusement as she, too, begins to undress. She moves with a grace that matches her name, each piece of clothing discarded with a deliberate slowness that has my heart pounding. Finally, she stands naked before me, her body a study in contrasts: sharp angles and soft curves, pale skin and dark nipples.
They're both stunning, and they know it.
Sable steps closer, her eyes never leaving mine. "Is this what you wanted, little bird?"
I nod, unable to speak, my eyes roaming over her body.
Winter moves to stand beside her, her hand rubbing Sable's hip lightly. "Do you like what you see?"
"Yes," I whisper hoarsely.
Winter's lips curve into a smile, and she fondles herself, her fingers teasing her own nipples. "Do you want to see more, Everly?"
I bite my lip, my body thrumming with desire. "Yes."
Sable's eyes darken as she, too, begins to touch herself, her fingers dipping between her legs. "Then watch, Everly. Watch and learn."
I can't tear my eyes away as they caress themselves, their fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. Their breathing quickens, their eyes closing in pleasure. I wish I could rub my thighs together, the ache is getting so strong.
Sable drops to her knees before me as if reading my mind. "But first, let me take care of you."
Her mouth hovers over my core, her breath ghosting against me, and I buck my hips involuntarily, seeking that touch.
She chuckles, the vibration sending a shiver through me. "Eager, aren't we?"
Before I can respond, her tongue flicks out, teasing my clit. I cry out, my body arching off the cross as she begins to feast on me, her mouth and tongue working magic.
My eyes seek Winter, and I find her watching me, her fingers still moving between her legs. She bites her lip, her eyes dark and hooded with desire.
"Do you want to see me come, Everly?" she asks, her voice thick with need.
I nod eagerly, my eyes glued to her body as she touches herself, her breasts swaying as she rocks against her fingers.
Sable's mouth works relentlessly against me, her hums and moans vibrating against my sensitive flesh. My body trembles, every nerve ending singing with pleasure.
Winter steps closer, her eyes never leaving mine. She slides her fingers into my mouth, and I suck on them eagerly, tasting her. Ohh fuck, she tastes so good.
"That's it, Everly. Suck my fingers like you mean it."
I moan around her digits, my eyes rolling back in my head as Sable's tongue flicks and teases. My entire body is on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release.
"That's it, little bird," Sable murmurs, her breath hot against me. "Come for me."
I rock my hips into her mouth, fast, faster. I want to come just like she asked me to. I want to please her. Sable moans into my pussy, and Winter's taste fills my mouth. I'm humping her face like a woman possessed, thinking only of coming just like she wants me to, like a good girl.
I come with a cry, my body shaking, my release exploding through me like a thousand stars. I suck hard on Winter's fingers, my eyes fluttering open to see her watching me.
"That's my good girl," Winter purrs, stroking my hair. "So beautiful."
Sable stands, a satisfied smile on her lips. "Not bad at all."
As I catch my breath, the weight of my climax still resonating through me, Winter gently strokes my hair while Sable releases the restraints. My body feels both drained and oddly light, as though the intensity of the moment has purged me of all resistance.
Sable's hands move tenderly over my skin. "You did beautifully, Everly," she says, her voice softer, almost affectionate. Winter's approval is in her gaze, her expression a blend of pride and warmth.
I feel a lump form in my throat, not from pain, but from the unexpected tenderness they're showing me. They guide me to sit, and I notice the way their hands linger, offering comfort and support. This moment, in its quiet intimacy, feels like a bridge crossed, a silent understanding shared between us.
As I look at them, I realize how much I've opened up, not just physically, but emotionally. I wonder, as they help me steady myself, if this is the beginning of something deeper, something I'm still learning to embrace.