Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
RACHELLE
M y cheeks are flaming, and all I can think of is Jared’s face when he threw his head back as he came. It looked as if his friends and my stepbrother were cheering him on, and Theo was swallowing every drop as Ignacio cooed in his ear.
“Rachelle?” Liliana sounds amused as I walk next to her, and I attempt to cool down my cheeks by pressing my hands against them.
“Do they do that often?” I ask, my voice cracking. I am on the struggle bus right now.
“Well, I mean, it’s not abnormal for them to be exhibitionists,” she says with a shrug. “The teachers ignore whatever they do in the cafe, it’s like an unspoken rule.”
“Just the cafe?” I ask, thinking about how Jared pushed me into the mud yesterday.
I feel as if it’s been days since that happened but it’s not.
“I mean, if a teacher stumbles upon it, they’re in deep shit. That’s why I told you to make sure you shine in front of your teachers,” Liliana says. “Make them give a shit about you. It won’t matter with some of them, but it’s a start.”
Easier said than done. My morning teachers all looked bored, so they got pleasure in torturing us all. I was able to barely manage not to make an ass out of myself by answering questions correctly, but it was a close thing.
I’m going to have to double down on studying and reading tonight.
“Okay,” I say, my head bobbing up and down.
“You’re very rosy cheeked,” she teases me. “Are you turned on from our show in the cafe? I bet they all fuck, Rachelle. Can you imagine all that dick, and all the holes they have a chance to fill?”
The idea makes my breath hitch, while she chuckles.
“You’re so sweet and innocent,” she says. “It makes corrupting you a little more fun.”
“Only a little?” I ask.
“I like the innocence,” Liliana admits, wrapping her arm around my waist and tugging me closer to her. She’s taller than I am at around five foot seven inches, while I’m only five two. “It’s a refreshing change in this world, Rachelle.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it is. Emil told me this was a normal school,” I grumble, the knife strapped to my thigh calling him a liar.
When did weapons become normal to carry at school, especially a private one like this?
“For him, it probably feels as if it is,” she explains. “He went here as well, and so did his grandfather. This is his idea of what normal is.”
“It’s not mine,” I sigh. “White tablecloths and waiters in a school lunchroom isn’t what I’m used to at all.”
“Didn’t it taste so much better though?” she asks. “I don’t know what they serve anywhere else, but brain food is important when you’re performing at the level we are. The athletes all have special meal plans that the chef follows for them. Speaking of high performance, I have to go talk to Miss Haley about a screw up on the school newspaper before it prints.”
“You’re in the Newspaper Club?” I ask, vaguely remembering it was an option when I was going over the handbook of available clubs.
Choosing one to become involved in is mandatory, and I have until Wednesday of next week to choose one before I’m assigned to something. Shudder.
I can’t imagine what the administration will feel is a good fit for me. I’d rather have a choice.
“I’m the editor,” Liliana says proudly, winking. “Everything comes through me first. But, when I was checking over the copy edit, I noticed that there was an error. I’ll catch up with you after school. I don’t want to miss my window before they go to the printers tonight. There’s an online option and a print.”
“Fancy,” I tease her. “I can’t wait to read it, and I typically don’t really pay attention to school newspapers.”
“I promise ours aren’t boring,” she winks, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “Bye!”
Liliana leaves me in the middle of the hallway, surprised as she bustles off. This is going to take a little getting used to. I’m not used to people hugging me outside of my mom. Even then, until recently, those have been very rare with how little I used to see her.
“Trying your hand at being a lesbian, little sister?” Ignacio asks, throwing his arm over my shoulders.
This asshole is only three months older than me.
“Ew. Please don’t ever call me that again,” I tell him, looking over my shoulder. He’s standing slightly behind me, and it’s awkward to look up and over at him. Damn tall man. It should be illegal for a seventeen year old to be this tall. “For clarity, I meant the sister part.”
“Hmm,” he says, brow raised. “So you are a lesbian?”
“I don’t enjoy labels,” I say, shrugging. It’s true, whoever I’m attracted to, is who I’m attracted to. As shitty as my life has been up to this point, I still haven’t experienced very much. I don’t really know who or what I enjoy. “Life is too short to get caught up in them. Liliana is also really nice.”
I don’t state that I’m still feeling her out. I refuse to jump into anything, simply because it’s a new school and sometimes the vipers come in pretty packages.
“She’s not that nice,” Ignacio says, smirking. His arm is heavy, and I struggle to stay upright as he leans further on my body. God, he weighs a fucking ton. “Little sister, Liliana’s father is a stone-cold killer, and so is his daughter. I wouldn’t want to meet her in the dark. The girl collects knives like some collect dolls, and she has ever since she was twelve.”
“Are you warning me, big brother?” I ask sweetly. Let’s see how he feels when he’s called that.
Instead, his large hand grabs my hip and he grinds his dick on my ass. His very hard dick.
“That’s one kink I didn’t think I was into,” he croons in my ear. “ Mi hermanita , please make it a point to call me that again. It’ll help me pregame before I have to go fuck one of the teachers. Call it my form of giving back to the community.”
“Are you serious?” I ask, jaw dropping as he releases me. I really can’t tell if he is or not.
“The Kings run this school, little sister. We just like to pretend that the teachers have any power,” he says with a shrug, turning and loping away.
Twisting to watch as everyone moves out of his way as if it’s expected, I shake my head in awe. There’s so much power in his body, the truth is he and his friends terrify me. It’s why I’ve been avoiding the hallways, and reminds me of why I need to get my ass in gear.
Turning away, I quickly walk down the hall, ducking through a small archway. This cuts through the school, and Liliana told me that sometimes it leaks a little when it rains. Most people stay in the more populated areas, and almost no one knows about the back hallway I’m about to take.
Liliana said it’s because teachers and the janitors use them predominantly, though there’s not a rule that students can't use them. The only other people who use them are the Carslyle Kings.
Blowing out a breath, I open the small door halfway down this corridor, slipping inside. The light is dim since there aren’t any windows here. Lightbulbs that seem to snap and crack are spaced four feet apart along the ceiling, and it makes my skin erupt in goosebumps.
“This is better than the main hallways,” I whisper to myself as I force my legs to move.
I’m jumpy after seeing my stepbrother, and I hate that his words fill my mind with questions about Liliana. I don’t know her at all. She could be working with the Kings, or be waiting to fuck me over for her own entertainment. My fingers slide my skirt up as I walk, touching the knife on my thigh.
And yet… she immediately made sure I’d be safer than I was yesterday. She showed me the ropes of the school, and promised to help keep me safe. I hate that I’m so suspicious, my mind racing, reminding me that I haven’t seen the worst of humanity.
I’m only sixteen. There’s always something or someone worse than what I’ve experienced. It’s a sad fact of humanity that demons wear human clothing, walk the earth, and exist to see how far they can take things.
Except, I’ve been staring depression and sorrow in the face every day since I was twelve, so my ability to bend is unparalleled. I’ll bounce back, I won’t break, and I whisper that in my mind as my feet move faster to the doorway I need to exit.
Opening it slowly, I slide out into the hallway as if I’ve always been here. No one blinks an eye as I walk into my class. I don’t want to make any waves unless it’s to shine in the classroom.
Finding a seat, I look around to make sure there’s not assigned seating. A couple of my classes have had it, while other teachers don’t care. I didn’t get to attend this class due to the drowning in mud incident yesterday.
“Miss Thomas?” the teacher asks from the front of the class. His hair is cut severely, his glasses appear to enhance his glare as he leans over his large desk.
“Yes, sir,” I respond, unsure if he wants me to come over. I’m sitting in the middle of the room, feeling as if I’m on unsteady ground. I hate being the new girl, especially here.
I found out from Liliana as she was walking me around today that the school rarely takes new students, and the waitlist is long and spans years. The school is full of students whose families have been attending here for generations and the grade levels range from preschool to twelfth grade.
There are some students that live with host families if they live outside of Portland. They only go home to their families for holidays, something I was surprised to learn.
“A moment, please,” Professor Richardson growls.
Dropping my backpack to the ground, I get up quickly to walk to his desk.
“Of course, sir,” I murmur, eyes wide.
“I’m not going to eat you,” he says with a smirk. “I know this school is a big change probably from anything that you’re used to.”
My head nods sharply, wondering where he’s going with this.
“My records show yesterday was your first day, but you weren’t present in my class. Is there a reason for this?” he asks.
“There was,” I tell him, waiting for his next question. The less I say the better. I’m not protecting Jared, but myself.
The wrong answer could lead to repercussions I’m not prepared for. Liliana may be helping me navigate the school, but I’m finding that the Kings have their own rules only they know.
Professor Richardson waits a beat before nodding. “Let’s try to limit the absences, Miss Thomas, alright? You’re jumping in at an odd time in the semester, and things will only get more difficult,” he reminds me.
Starting at a new school, especially Carlysle Prep, in mid April probably wasn’t a good life choice. Got it.
“Yes, sir,” I say, nodding.
There are other words bubbling up inside of me, but I stamp them down, because none of them are helpful at this moment. I’m at a disadvantage either way, and I’ll have to work harder than others in order to be able to keep up.
I’m not afraid of this challenge, it’s safer than the others I’m facing.
The professor dismisses me, and the classroom is filled with students. Jared is unfortunately now sitting in my seat, and he shoves my backpack into my path, smirking. Gazing dispassionately at him, I drop into a ladylike squat, thighs pressed together as I snag the strap and rise. Jared’s hand glides up my leg, touching me in ways he doesn’t have permission to, missing the knife since it’s strapped to the other thigh.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see the teacher watching us and he shrugs as if giving me an out. Wonderful. Hopefully, he doesn’t care about violence against students. Pulling out my stun gun, I flick it on and press it against Jared’s neck, enjoying the way he gasps as he jerks against it.
“Keep your goddamned hands to yourself,” I hiss, flicking the safety back on it calmly and putting it back into the hidden pocket. It’s small, light, and impossible to find in the heavy lining of the uniform jacket.
Thankfully, no one really noticed what happened because they were all chatting away, and Jared didn’t make a sound. Nonchalantly, I find a seat toward the back of the room and slide into it, pulling out my iPad, keyboard, and textbook.
Peeking up, I notice Jared glaring at me, but Professor Richardson is wearing a secret smile and calling attendance. I make a show of wiping my leg clean with a wet wipe in my backpack, smirking. I’ve started keeping them with me because of the amount of mud on campus due to the constant rain.
My shoes need to be spotless at all times in order to stay within the dress code, so this was the easiest route. Unlike Jared, who would rather use my tongue and rip my skirt in order to clean his boots. In fact, I notice he’s the only one in the room wearing combat boots, even though they shine as brightly as the loafers the other guys are wearing.
It’s yet another way that the Carlysle Kings get special treatment.
It’s difficult to keep my attention on the professor, yet I manage to not only keep up, but also answer a question or two correctly. Statistics as a sophomore feels like an odd class, however, I’m not in charge of the curriculum here.
All I can do is show that I deserve to be at this school. I don’t know what the guys are playing at, or their agenda, but game fucking on.
I may have wanted to leave last night, almost begging for it, but I’ve changed my mind. I want to make a go of it. See what I’m capable of.
Jared grabs my wrist when I pass him once class is over, and I raise my brow.
“Is our skull so thick that we misunderstood the warning?” I ask sweetly.
Jared leans toward me, licking his lips as he says, “Don’t say ‘we’ as if we’re on the same playing field, little girl. I will make you eat mud, choke it down, every single day until it’s your main diet.”
“Hmm, no thanks,” I say. “I think I’ve already crossed that off my bingo card. It’s over, done, figure out some other way to torture me. Know that I won’t be taking it laying down, though, sugar.”
I’m from the south, I grew up there, and the nickname just slipped out. Thankfully, his fingers open in surprise, and I walk away with my head held high.
“A stun gun?” Professor Richardson asks as I approach, his lips barely moving. “Really?”
The words are stated with humor, and I can see he’s silently laughing, his shoulders shaking.
“It was that or the knife,” I admit with a shrug.
“Blood is difficult to explain,” he agrees as I breeze past him and out the door.
This place is insane.
* * *
THEO
Watching from my place leaning against the wall, I spy Liliana and the little mouse leave school together at the end of the day. Except, she looks way too confident to be called a mouse today.
That doesn’t sit right with me.
“You look as if you need to stab or punch something,” Jared says, as he joins me in the art form of holding up the wall while glaring at everyone who passes by us.
It’s easier to rule if people fear and revere you. People nod as they walk by, making sure that they don’t stop as they continue on to get home or get to practice.
“I need to dig up some dirt,” I grunt. “I don’t know if Nacio will be able to find anything at the house. His father is too good at keeping secrets.”
“This is true,” he mutters. “She fucking electrocuted me in class today. I put my hand up her skirt to test her, but she was hiding a stun gun on her somehow. The little mouse shoved it into the back of my neck. I’m sore as fuck.”
“How did she get away with that?” I ask. “Is she already fucking teachers with that tight cunt of hers? You’re in Richardson’s class with her right?”
I know everyone’s schedule. The four of us have memorized them in case we need each other. When Rachelle enrolled, Nacio let us know, and I pulled her schedule too.
Not much gets past any of us if we’re looking for it, which is why I feel as if there’s more to dig up. This girl isn’t our people, she’s ruffling feathers, and showing disrespect for us.
She needs to learn to kneel for us, preferably with my cock down her throat. I’m still hard from sucking off Jared in the cafe, and my dick fucking twitches in my pants, making me grunt.
“Professor Richardson’s head was turned,” Jared says. “I don’t know, it felt weird, as if he was trying to see how Rachelle settled things.”
“Ballsy,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “You have ten minutes before practice, Jared. You don’t want to be late. That chlorine is gonna burn if the skin is irritated.”
“It’ll keep me sharp,” he says, clearing his throat. He only does this when he’s annoyed, a tick only those closest to him know, and even then he tries not to do it. “We need to remove Liliana as her ally.”
Thinking, I move through different possibilities, but reject each one. I need to figure out how to make this happen.
“They seemed really chummy,” I say instead. “Liliana is very sweet on her. It’s nauseating.”
“Then we use that somehow,” he sighs. “I gotta roll. Keep me updated.”
“Later,” I say, pushing away from the wall to walk to my car.
Ignacio has a club meeting for Debate for their next competitive match, and Elijah has rugby practice. The different private schools have a healthy competitive spirit that’s fostered through matches or events throughout the year. Sometimes we host the different schools, and others we travel out to them.
These all foster well rounded college applications, and an air of confidence that we can all work at something as a team.
I chose to join as many language clubs as possible with the goal to absorb them all. I have a penchant for languages, any kind. Computer code, Spanish, Chinese, French, all of them speak to me.
I’ll be able to go to school wherever I choose, and also get any job I want. My parents insist that I play soccer like my father did when he attended Caryslye Prep. Dad is pushing for me to become a lawyer, but I’m bucking the system. My sisters have more freedom in so many ways, and it’s hard not to be jealous even though I’m my father’s heir.
While I find law fascinating, as it’s a kind of special language with different interpretations, I don’t want to practice it. I am, however, in a logic course this semester that’s enjoyable.
Thankfully, today isn’t a day that I have a club meeting or practice, and I walk outside to my car. Everyone is chatting, having clubs outside as the sun finally is peaking out from the cloud cover, or driving out of the large parking lot.
This school feels comfortable since I’ve been here for so many years, but there’s danger everywhere. All it takes is for one snot nosed kid to decide to rush me, stab me as they brush past me, and it would be an all out war.
It’s why the Kings keep a stranglehold on the high school. We were given our positions by the seniors when they graduated. The past kings kidnapped us from our beds, with the full permission of our parents the summer before we began school. They knew we had been chosen before we had, one of the many rites of passage where they lie to our faces.
Not even our own homes are a safe place. That’s what our parents teach us with their lies of omission. The kids growing up in this school, being educated within these walls, they’re made of teflon. Even if they do move out of the way when the Kings walk through the halls.
That’s simply self preservation. I support that.
Unlocking my silver Bugatti Chiron, I hit the button on my key fob to open my door. The upwards swing of it makes my lips twitch. It’s a fancy fucking car, but when my parents offered me a seventeenth birthday present, they didn’t blink when I told them this is what I wanted.
It drives like a dream, and sometimes I crave the escape like I need my next breath.
Getting into the car, I start it and exhale the bullshit of the day as I close the doors. I’m free when I get into this vehicle, the real prison occurs when I get out. Using the gear shift, I leave the school behind, hitting a button to listen to music.
I downloaded some new music and artists as a gift to myself for acing my exam. The grades came back immediately since it was taken on the computer, and my heart nearly stopped until I saw the results.
I knew I was going to pass with flying colors, but I always study as if the world depends on my knowing the material. I need to be perfect, be better than the rest.
There’s no other option.
Pulling off my jacket, I toss it to the side as I listen to the music. At a stoplight, I roll my sleeves up, exposing my forearms. While I don’t have any tattoos, I think my pierced dick makes up for it. My parents are very strict about having pristine skin, however, no one cares what my dick looks like.
Just me and whoever I’m fucking.
I’m going straight home, and my windows are tinted well enough that no one will be able to see that I’m not wearing my uniform perfectly. As the light changes to green, I roll forward, only to curse under my breath as a car flies through the intersection and their red light.
This is why I always check before moving. People are fucking idiots on the roads.
Blowing out a breath, I hit the gas as I blow through the intersection, shaking my head in annoyance.
My dad is probably still at work, while my mom is playing cards today with the neighbor moms. It seems like a cute little get together, but I know better than that. Empires rise and fall at those damn things, and my father sends her for the gossip. My mother is a very good wife, knows the stakes and the importance of playing the games.
She’s never once missed her mark.
Humming the chorus of a song that’s on, I find that I’m impressed with the quality of the lyrics. The lead singer cuts open her veins for her craft, the words raw and real. This is why I look for new music, my brain craving new patterns and dopamine hits.
In a normal world, I’d be diagnosed with ADHD, but my parents don’t think it’s real. So, that’s another reason why I study so hard, crave the words of different languages to hold my interests, and search for new music.
It keeps me whole and functional. It doesn’t make my neuro-spiciness any less real, I’ve simply learned how to manage it in a way that works for me.
Pulling into my drive after the gate allows me entry, I pick up my phone to see who the band is that I’m currently obsessing over. The words Darkest Nights light up on the screen, making me smirk. I have found my new hyper fixation, thank you very much.
Turning off the music, I pull the car into the garage and get out, making sure I have all of my things.There’s a motorcycle and three other vehicles in here, but none of them are ones that my parents typically drive, which means I’m the only one home.
The staff retreats to other parts of the house when I’m home, which means I fend for myself. I can cook so I won’t starve, and I prefer to be alone without people breathing down my neck.
Going into the house, I hit the button to ensure that the garage door also closes before shutting the door leading into the mud room. Taking a deep breath, my nose wrinkles at the scent of bleach and disinfectant.
The maids must have gone to town today. At least it’s all clean.
Roaming through the house, I make myself a sandwich with carrot sticks. I like the crunch they make, and they’re an easy snack to eat after my sandwich is gone. I need to work upstairs, away from the scent of bleach and cleaner.
My tech room is built off my bedroom, one that only I clean from top to bottom. I use a steam cleaner instead of bleach, so it’s easier on my senses. Climbing the stairs, I breathe a sigh of relief at the third floor as I push the door to my room open.
Flicking on the special lights that ensure that they’re not too bright, I nod in happiness as I shut the door behind me with my foot. There’s a bathroom connected to the suite on the right, but my tech room is on the left past the desk I use for schoolwork. Bypassing that, I use the code on the door to open it, ensuring only I can enter.
The one place that’s completely impenetrable in this house is my tech room. I built it out myself when my parents were out of town when I was twelve. After I was kidnapped the summer of freshman year, I slept on my cot in the tech room for almost a week before I could leave it.
I’ll never admit it out loud, but it fucked with my head. The tech room is almost the perfect safe room with a few keystrokes.
Stepping inside with my plate of food, I do what I need to do to ensure the locks are in place and then sit down at my computer set up. Taking a large bite of my sandwich, I power up the machine as I decide what direction I want to go in for the little mouse.
I want information that’s embarrassing, traumatizing, and will make her rethink attending my school. It’s only been two days, yet I’m already tired of seeing her face. She’s too damn pretty, her pouty mouth enticing. I’ve never seen Jared so worked up about someone. We’ve done a lot of fucked up shit over the years, but my dreams last night were deranged.
I want to fuck her, cut her skin, watch her cry. I haven’t even spoken to the little mouse, yet I’m afraid of getting caught in her web. My feelings are very conflicting, which means I need to focus on my work.
Flicking on the music again, I begin to sing the words, already having learned these lyrics from the first time I heard them on the way home. My fingers nimbly fly over the keys, pulling up different browsers over the three different screens that surround me. I put Rachelle Thomas and her mother’s names through different search engines to see if I can find anything interesting.
As things pop up, I learn that she’s lived most of her life in Cocoa, Florida, and her father made good money until he died in a car wreck when she was twelve.
“Drunk driver,” I mutter, crunching on a carrot. “That’s some shitty luck there, Chuck.”
I’m an insensitive ass, and I click my teeth as I find the addresses of trailers they rented over the years. One of the best things that ever happened to Julia Thomas was meeting Emil on a dating app. Pulling up photos of her, I have to admit that the old man could have done worse.
My food is long gone as I continue to run different searches, finding nothing of consequence outside of an eviction or two. It’s not enough for me to run with and I growl in frustration.
My phone buzzes with a text message and I look away after entering the keywords for any arrests that may have happened that are connected to either of them. Fuck, she can’t be this squeaky clean.
That’s boring. I’ll make shit up if necessary and make it look real, but I’d prefer for there to be a kernel of truth in things. It makes it hurt more.
Jared:
I’m done with practice. Anything good come up?
I hate telling him no, but as I begin to answer, a couple of pings sound on my computer. Glancing up, I frown as I see that it’s coming from a prison.
Is our little mouse that kind of trouble maker? Or is it her mother?
Desperate people make desperate decisions, after all.
Me:
I’ll get back to you. Still working on getting some facts ironed out. She may not be as clean as I was beginning to think.
Putting aside my phone, I begin to click on links, break through sealed files, and find myself on a gold mine. Glancing at the time, I grin, knowing that I’m going to need to work quickly.
Picking up the phone, I dial a teacher’s private line. She has a very important position, one that I wanted to have access to if needed. Well, I’m calling in my chips. She’s going to fucking hate it, but I recorded myself fucking her once.
I’m only seventeen, and she’s in her mid thirties. I’m a wounded teen, one she should have known better than to fuck. I guess that’s what happens when you’re single, without any prospects outside of school to get your rocks off.
Predators live even in fancy schools.
“Hi, Miss Hailey,” I croon. “What are you doing right now?”
Listening to her, my smile gets even wider. Fuck yeah, she’s still at school.
“I need a favor, and you’re going to be a good girl and say yes,” I instruct her.
I tell her exactly what I need, and when she refuses, I send her a small snippet of our very private time together. You can’t see my face at all, just my hips pistoning my cock into her tight pussy. I’m wearing my school uniform which makes it very obvious that I’m her student.
Tut, tut, the shame of it all.
“ You can’t show anyone that video. God, you were recording us?” she screams . It’s almost a convincing performance, except that she knows I don’t give a shit about conventions.
Her words have no meaning, all I want is to have her agree to my demands. She may as well be squawking for all I’m paying attention to her.
“Is that a no?” I ask her, allowing her to hear my key strokes. Her imagination is going to be going haywire, I can make her believe anything at this point.
It’s a heady and magnificent feeling. Unable to stop, I pull my dick out and roll my palm over the frenum piercing, tugging it gently.
“I could send this out to the school administration, faculty, students, and the police if you’d like,” I drawl, my eyes rolling as I streak the precum over the crown of my dick.
I need to come, I’ve been hard most of the day.
“ No ,” she screams, making me grunt as I begin stroking my cock.
The long ladder of piercings down my shaft feel so damn good as I slowly fuck my fist. Her screams are just going to make this so much better.
“I think yes,” I tell her, my voice deep and teasing as I sit back, legs splayed wide. “You’ll get picked up by the police to answer a lot of really uncomfortable questions, baby. Do you remember how my cock feels in your pussy? The way you clench down when I fuck you?”
The whimper she makes tells me that she does, and I chuckle.
“You’re not sorry you fucked me, you’re simply upset I have proof of it,” I tell her. My eyes roll as I imagine how blown her pupils must be with fear and a hint of arousal.
Fuck yeah, that’s the shit my best dreams are made of.
“I’m… I hate that you’re going to punish me for it,” she says in a small voice. “But I was a bad girl.”
This is why I keep coming back to fuck Miss Hailey. She has a role playing kink that’s impressive.
“Get naked for me, slap your pussy,” I growl, my hand moving a little faster.
“Are you still gonna ?—“
“You’re the only one who can answer that,” I remind her, pulling off my shirt. I’m definitely going to come soon, and I don’t have a ready mouth to lick up the mess. “You’re still being a bad girl. Punish that pussy, and then admit you were wrong.”
Five minutes of silence is enough for me to begin to lose my patience. However, the best way to get what you want is to let them fill the silence. Never bend, ever.
“What… how am I supposed to slap my pussy?” she asks so softly I almost don’t hear her.
“Find your ruler,” I purr, smirking. “Spread those thighs wide, heels up on your desk. Five slaps and then we’ll talk.”
She hits herself hard, making my chest heavy as I fuck my hand. I wish I was watching her, her breathy little half screams ambrosia to my ears. Biting down hard on my bottom lip, my vision almost whites out completely as I come, making a mess of my hand and stomach.
Ropes of cum even make it to my chest, my body shuddering with the force of my orgasm.
Breathing hard, I mute the phone as I grab tissues to clean myself up with. Miss Hailey is lost to the feelings of punishment, whimpering and moaning as she continues. She follows directions so well.
Unmuting myself, I say, “Bad girls aren’t supposed to enjoy their punishment quite so much. This is obviously not working. You have three seconds to agree to what I want or I’m sending out that video. The full one where you beg me to fuck your ass and fill you full of cum.”
She’s a nasty little slut, which works for my purposes just fine. I bet she’ll still let me fuck her even after all of this. The woman is gagging for my dick.
“No, Theo ,” she cries. “ I could lose my job!”
“You’re definitely losing it if you don’t do this,” I remind her. “I already have someone to pin this on, anyway. You’re perfectly safe. All you have to do is say yes, and I’ll send you the file you’ll need. Are you ready to be my good girl?”
I can hear her crying, but I’d bet her pussy is as wet as the crocodile tears currently sliding down her cheeks. I wait her out as the waterworks begin to slow down, knowing she’ll make the correct decision.
“Send it ,” she whispers.
“That’s my good girl,” I say, hanging up and I send her the file.
Feeling a bubble of elation, I text Jared back.
Me:
I got it. School is going to be really interesting tomorrow.
Jared:
Is it tomorrow yet?
God, I wish. I can’t fucking wait.