21. Kirill
I’min a strange mood for the following few days. Every morning, I wake to a churning in my stomach and wonder why, and then it all comes back to me. My father. His money. The watches.
Sometimes I feel nothing but pure hate for him, and yet others fear, and very rarely something approaching mild affection. I don’t think I love him. Not really. Mother, yes, but my father is a bad man. Grigoriy. I think of him more as a person I vaguely know these days than my father. He’s not been a father-figure to me for many years, only a person who likes to terrorize me. He doesn’t deserve for me to think of him as my dad. He’s Grigoriy. Maybe I should start calling him that? No, he’ll hate it and take it out on me.
I do change his contact to Grigoriy in my phone, though, and feel a stupid sense of satisfaction at my micro aggression.
I have Calculus 4 all morning, and I’m not in the mood. Normally, I like math, but today my head is too chaotic to make order from random numbers. Should I skip it? I think I might. I’m going to say I was sick and go to the gym instead. I need to work this anxiety out of my body.
I hit the gym, put in earbuds, and glove up. It’s the punching bag for me today. As I swing at it, I imagine my father’s—no, Grigoriy’s—face up there on the bag. I visualize punching him in his steely jaw, his ice-chip eyes, his fucking perfect nose. I hate him. I seethe as I swing.
Hate. Fear. Hate.
I am hitting the bag too hard; I know that. I could end up damaging my hands, but I can’t stop.
“Wow, who got under your skin?”
The female voice is distorted over the music through my headphones. I pause and, breathing heavily, turn to see the blonde standing next to me. I’m surprised she’s talking to me.
I yank off my headphones so I can hear her properly.
“What’s up, Verity?”
She puts one hand on her hip, and her gaze lingers on my body. “You know, I always thought you were the hottest Devil, but it’s always Dom, isn’t it? He’s the one everyone treats like a god. He’s the one everyone sees as the leader. Why is that? Huh?” She licks her glossy lips. “I don’t think it is because you’re scared of him. Not really.”
I frown. “Of course I am not scared of him.”
She nods. “I know. People talk shit, is all.”
I know she’s trying to mess with my head, and normally, I’d not give a damn what Verity had to say, but today of all days, when I’m feeling so out of sorts, her words mess with me. I try to lock down my reaction, but I feel myself getting angry at Dom for always thinking he gets to be in charge.
“I saw him come out of Mack’s room this morning,” she announces. “I thought you weirdos always liked to do girls together? Seems like Dom has Mack and you right where he wants you.”
I tense.
He was with Mackenzie? Last night? After she left us high and dry to see Camile, she let him in her bed? Into her room? Her private space?
For some reason, it gives me a bad taste in my mouth.
Verity’s not done yet. “I bet he was fucking her while she slept. I know Dom, and he has some strange kinks.” She moves closer, her breath tickling my neck as she leans in. “Then again, I suppose we all have our odd little ways. I love the smell of fresh sweat on a guy.”
She breathes in deeply, and her hand moves from her hip to land on my upper right pec. She holds it there, looking at me.
Then, bold as fuck, she trails her hand down my body and runs it over my crotch. I’m already half hard. I might not like Verity, but she’s kind of hot, and the thought of Dom and Mackenzie sleeping together all night has me both angry and turned on. Her hand brushes over my length, and it hardens some more.
It would be so easy right now to fuck Verity. I’d be within my rights to. We haven’t sworn to be faithful to our doll, and she’s fucking around with all of us. Giving us favors here and there, picking and choosing who she spends time with. It would serve her, and Dom and Tino, right if I blew this up by screwing Verity.
I rest my hand on her hip, and she smiles, and that does it. That smile. That fucking mean-girl, cat-that-got-the-cream, self-satisfied smile, is a bucket of cold water over my libido.
I laugh. “Verity. I wouldn’t screw you if you were the last girl at Verona Falls.”
I grab my towel and wipe the back of my neck as I push by her.
“Whatever. Your loss,” she says with a high pitched, fake giggle. “Your girl is screwing the other Devils, though. I guess you don’t mind being cuckolded so long as it’s one of your little gang doing it to you.”
I give her the finger without turning around and slam the doors shut behind me.
When I get to my room, I head to the shower. Under the hot water, I fucking seethe.
I go back in my mind and recall all the times I now know Mackenzie has spent with the others. She had a whole night with Tino at the motel, just the two of them, and now Dom’s spent the night with her too. And those are only the times I know about. When else is she sneaking off with them and leaving me alone? Does she prefer Tino and Dom to me?
I’m hard and horny, but also raging with anger. It’s a head fuck. Add in the fear about my father, and I think I’m going to explode.
After drying off and getting dressed in a pair of jeans and a Henley style shirt, I pick up my phone, and my heart skips a beat.
From Grigoriy: Meet me at Bar Twenty-Four in town tonight. I have some news on the watches.>
Fuck. He’s not coming here, which I take as a bad sign. If he was happy, he could come here and tell me, no? Meeting me off campus makes me think he’s going to break my face and doesn’t want to have to deal with Nataniele.
I try to surf the wave of anxiety, but it’s getting so bad I need something to take it away.
Weak.
The word my father used to spit at me echoes in my mind.
Scared.
Weirdo.
Cuckold.That’s what Verity said.
Do Dom and Tino think of me as weak? The way my father does? Is that why they think they can fuck around with Mackenzie whenever they damn well please? Does she feel the same way?
I’m so angry, I’m at risk of smashing up my room if I don’t get out of here.
I don’t intend to find my way to Mackenzie’s room, or so I tell myself, but I end up there. Pausing with my fist half raised to knock on her door, I consider if this is the best thing. The mood I’m in, this could go south so easily.
She might not even be in. Then I hear it. A faint sound. A sneeze. That’s a cute sneeze. She’s in there. Studying, maybe? I glance at my watch. It’s another hour, I think, before her next class. Sue me if I have her schedule memorized.
I bang on the door.
A moment later, it swings open, and there she is. My pretty, perfect kukla. She isn’t the Duchess Mackenzie today. No, in her cute outfit of relaxed joggers and a cropped t-shirt, she’s definitely the doll version of Mackenzie.
“Oh, hey.” She beams at me as if she’s glad to see me.
Maybe she is? It’s not her fault, after all, that Tino made sure he went alone to bring her back and then went off grid. No, that was all Tino, though my father played his part in that too by making sure I was too busy dealing with his shit to go with Tino.
I bet last night was all Dom, too. He sneaks into people’s rooms like a fucking creeper, and he won’t be any different with our doll. He even did it to me once. I woke up to find him sitting on the floor in the corner. I asked him what the fuck he was doing, and he’d said he didn’t feel like being alone. As if letting himself into his friend’s dorm and snoozing in the corner on the floor was totally normal.
No, this isn’t my doll’s fault. My kukla is not to blame. I reach out and stroke her pretty hair. It’s all soft and shiny. I bring a strand to my face and inhale.
She steps back, a frown on her face. “Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yes. Of course. Why not?”
“Erm, you seem … off.”
“I am fine. How about you?” I step into her room, even though she didn’t invite me. I glance around and note all the little feminine touches.
My room is like a monk’s dwellings, I think, compared to this. There are hair bands on some of the shelves. Ornaments. Perfume bottles on the window ledge.
“You shouldn’t leave perfume there,” I say. “It will ruin it. The sun, you know.”
She shrugs. Mackenzie is watching me as if I’m a wild boar in her space. I won’t hurt her. I’m not Dom. I don’t like to hurt pretty things. I just like to play with them and mark them as mine.
“I’m fine, too,” she says eventually.
“Did you sleep well?”
She frowns, and as I hold her gaze, a slow, pink flush spreads up her throat. “Yes. Thank you.”
“I suppose having another warm body next to you helped.”
Her lips pinch. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I felt … stressed.” I give her a half-truth.
“What’s wrong? Why?”
“My father.” I shrug. “He might be about to kill me.”
“Oh, Kirill. No.” Real concern flashes in her pretty gaze, and I know I am a bastard because I’ve told her that on purpose. To make her feel bad for me. To make her let me do what I want with her.
“Da. I think maybe my watches lost him money. I must go meet with him.”
“When?”
“Soon.” Then I lay it on thick. “I didn’t want to be alone my last few hours before I meet with him. I came to you.”
She softens. I see it in the way her shoulders relax and her mouth parts slightly. Her eyes are wide, and she’s brimming with so much empathy.
Do I feel it for her? I think I do, but then again, maybe I don’t, because I want Mackenzie, but I want her the way I want my watches. She makes me feel safe. She’s pretty and shiny, and when I’m with her I can forget. Forget those words.
Weak.
Pathetic.
Scared …
Cuckold.
“Can I do anything?” she asks.
“Yes. You can. Take your clothes off.”
“Kirill, I, erm, I’m not sure …”
“Take them off, Kukla. I need to see you. I am craving you. Only you.”
“What do you mean, only me?” Her eyes narrow.
I shrug. “Verity came to me earlier.” I don’t tell her that’s how I know about Dom. “She offered herself to me.”
“She did?” Mackenzie’s face darkens, and I think I see the side of her that was able to stab a man peeking out. “Fucking bitch.”
She has much audacity, does my doll. She messes around with the three of us, picking and choosing and playing favorites, but she is upset that I might have touched Verity.
“I didn’t want her. I came here instead.”
“I’m glad, but Kirill, you seem in a dangerous mood, and I think?—”
“I am not a danger to you. I need you, Duchess. Please. Let me see you.”
She bites her lip, and it goes straight to my cock. Then she pushes her soft joggers down her legs and kicks them off. She’s now in a cropped t-shirt and a thong. Her curvy hips and small waist look amazing like this, and I groan, going to her and putting my hands on her waist.
“I love your perfect body,” I tell her. “Your hair is so pretty, too.”
“Um, thanks. I think.”
“Can I wrap it around my cock?”
“What?” Her eyes widen and she blinks a couple of times.
“Your hair. I want to wrap it around my cock.”
“I mean, sure.”
She still seems afraid, a little…unsure. My cock likes that. Why should Dom be the only one to intimidate her?
Does she think I’m weak, too?
I start to undress, and when I’m naked, except for my watch, I walk over to her. I sit her on the bed by pressing her shoulders down, and then I wrap her hair in my fist.
I drape it over my aching length and hiss when the silky strands brush over it. “I love your hair,” I murmur. “Can I brush it?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
Her voice catches, and I remember the other night, how she really seemed to like the idea of us treating her as our precious doll. Maybe this is her kink, and she just doesn’t know it.
I walk to the dresser and grab the large, flat paddle brush. It’s got a thick, round handle, and as I grip it, I get an idea. Heading back to Mackenzie, I gently brush her hair. I take my time and keep sifting my fingers through it, enjoying the silky feel of the strands.
She shivers when I run my fingers over her scalp. “Is that nice?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says softly.
Her nipples are peaked in her top. “Mackenzie, naughty girl. You’re not wearing a bra. Were you going to go out like that?”
“No, of course not. I’ll change before class.”
“Okay, I will let you off. Still, you have been naughty.”
“How?” She pouts at me.
I laugh. “Oh, come on. Letting Tino keep you all night to himself in that motel room? Letting Dom stay the night. I get that we’re all free and easy with this thing between us, but when is my turn, Kukla?”
“How did you know Dom spent the night? He told you?”
“He didn’t need to. Call me psychic.”
She frowns but doesn’t argue. I toss the hairbrush to one side and pull her top off, freeing her delectable tits. Her nipples are peaked, and I pinch them both, hard.
She gasps and glances up at me. “It’s going to be like that, is it?”
“My Kukla will be taken care of and made all pretty and perfect again, but first, I will make such a mess of you.”
She swallows. I glance around her room. I want her restrained for this. Pity I don’t have my ties on me. I let go of her nipples, which I’m still playing with, and stroll over to her drawers. I open them and rummage around.
“Hey,” she says. “Those are my things.”
“I want something like a tie,” I say.
“I don’t have any ties. Why? What for?”
My fingers brush over something silky, and I pull one of those slim, silk scarves women tie around their throats out of the jumble of clothing. I find another and smile to myself.
“I am going to tie your wrists to the headboard,” I tell her.
“Oh, no. I don’t think so.”
“Trust me. You will love it.” I lift her chin. “I swear. I’m going to blow your mind.”
She laughs. “Oh, God, you Devils will be the death of me.”
“I sincerely hope not,” I say in all seriousness. “The world would be a much less beautiful and interesting place without you in it.”
She smiles at my words.
“Come here, to the head of the bed.” I pat the mattress where I want her.
She goes to lie on her back, but I shake my head. “Not like that. On your knees.”
“Seriously?”
“I have never been more serious.”
She does as I ask, and I waste no time in expertly tying her wrists to the headboard.
When she’s tied up, I admire her for a moment, on her knees, her arms tied above her head and slightly out to the sides. Damn, I need her panties off. I look around me, and on her desk is a pot with pens, rulers, and other things in it. There’s a pair of scissors, and I grab them.
“Kirill, what the hell?” She looks over her shoulder, her eyes widening in alarm.
“Take it easy, Duchess. I just need to remove your panties.” Then, before she can object, I cut down either side of her panties, until they simply fall from her.
Now she’s bared to me. My doll, all tied up, her hair hanging down her back, her ass displayed for me. The hairbrush catches my eye.
“First, your punishment.”