LOGINZerina's POV
As I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I'm met with a stranger's gaze. My eyes are red-rimmed from crying, my face gaunt and my skin sallow. I'm a pitiful sight. A shadow of my former self. My golden hair is no longer as bright and beautiful as it has always been. It's an ugly kind of dull gold.
I'm ashamed of the state I'm in, ashamed of the dirt and grime that clings to my skin.
My phone rings somewhere around my room. Weakly, I turned to pick my dirty purse from the floor and fished for my phone. The call dial read.
Shea.
A dull, but happy smile appeared on my lips. My best friend.
I answered the call and put my phone to my ear. There came Shea's voice. Loud and bubbly.
"Hi, Zerina. Will you die if you'd just pick up your phone and call me? It's been a week now. No calls, no text. No smiley face emojis to show that you care about me. Or am I not important to you anymore?"
I can feel her pouting, lying on her bed or sitting on her couch with hot coffee and a slice of toasted bread. I smile again. God, I've missed her.
She is like my soul sister. The only person who truly gets me, stands by me no matter what, through thick and thin, through laughter and tears.
I break down on the phone, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Hey girl, what's going on?" she asks, her tone gentle and concerned. "Everything is going to be alright, okay?"
"When will that be, Shea?" I voice out my frustration. "I'm tired.. tired of living. Tired of being alive in a world that doesn't care."
"Just keep going. There's always a light at the end of a tunnel, " she says. "I would've loved you to come live with me but you know how.. "
"Don't worry, Shea. I will manage.”
After my call with her, I went into the bathroom to have a cold bath. I stripped off what remained of my sexy hot red dress. It's a pity I don't have any favourite dress again. This was my last and the only best dress I had. I twisted the knobs of the tub and let the cold water rush in, fragrant with the last vanilla-scented oils I had and I don't plan on buying any again. It's very expensive and there is no spare money to replace them. I walked into the bathtub and loved how the cold water relaxed my aching muscles that were tight from the exhaustion of staying in a particular position for two days straight, and something or someone else I wasn’t ready to name.
I caught a glimpse of myself through the water — my hips, my breasts and my pussy.
The dirt from my body already changed the transparent look of the water in the tub but it wasn't dirty enough for my eyes not to outline my shape. Would I be called a pervert if I said I was aroused by just looking at my body? Or maybe I'm feeling aroused by the pleasure I could enjoy if I touched myself. If he touched me.
My sinful body had reacted before I even had time to think or stop myself. A sharp wave of heat spread through me, leaving me breathless. I had been holding back from thinking about that stranger and now, I just couldn't continue doing that.
In that room, for the first time, I wasn't traumatized much unlike before. The sudden flashbacks of our hot make-out session helped me get through. It kind of eased me from my fear of the dark.
Even just recalling the echo of his dark voice made my skin tingle and God, I wish he was right here—with me , doing all sorts of sinful things to my body. I know I should be ashamed of myself. Still, I closed my eyes as I willed myself to recall his dirty words.
"Straddle me, red." And I straddled him. I loved how he cursed when I moved my hips. I was encouraged to please him more. But I couldn't keep up. He did things to my body and I never thought I could feel so much pleasure.
I said dirty things too.
"I want your hands on me, your cock. Anything to relieve me from this tension and heat. Please do it."
And he did relieve me of the tension a little. Now, I can not help but imagine how his cock would have felt inside me. That is what I came to him for. For him to deflower me. To fuck me full. Here I am, still a fucking virgin.
"Keep straddling me, little one."
Why does his words turn me on? I wanted to feel his fingers buried deep inside me. I couldn't stop the images that ran through my mind. No matter how I tried. I yearned for his touch.
I shivered underneath the water. The pains from the wounds on my back gotten from the constant whips made me hiss in pain whenever I moved but it didn't stop me from sliding my hands under the water. With shaky breaths, my eyes still closed, I slipped two fingers past my belly, down to my waist until it met my wet, swollen pussy. It felt so hot against my fingers despite the cold temperature surrounding it.
I bit down on my bottom lip, rubbing my fingers gently over my pussy. Slowly, I picked up pace. As I imagined him here, my thighs squeezed tight. His breathing against my neck made the skin on my neck feel hot. I shivered again and it's not because of the cold water, I shivered and trembled because of my Dangerous Panties Wetter.
Slowly, my other hand moved to my already hardened right nipple. I pinched and twisted. Pinched and twisted, until I couldn't take it anymore.
"Ahh" I moaned softly, my body writhing under the water. It splashed on the floor and some into my mouth. I sucked my lower lip, still sliding my fingers—in and out of my pussy. I tried doing it the way I thought he would have done it . Pleasure coiled in my veins.
I should not do this.
"Why am I aroused over a man I barely know?" I muttered softly. "A man who fucking dumped me out in the cold. Zerina, you should be ashamed of yourself. How could you do such a thing."
My mouth kept scolding myself and my brain that should help me stop these sinful activities still encouraged me to keep going.
Here I am, without shaming, chasing pleasure as I rubbed faster. I couldn't help but make muffled sounds of moans , my back arched sharply. My hands moved to my left breast, squeezing it hard.
"Oh, please" I pleaded to the person that has been in my head for the past two days. "Fuck me, harder. I beg you."
I gasped, letting all the pleasure I felt build low in my belly.
"Ohh, Lord." I whimpered. It felt like he was right here with me. Dirty images of his fingers inside me, doing all sorts of things to me flashed in my eyes. Those lips—full, hot and can fucking pleasure me.
I rubbed harder, my breathing sharp and ragged.
This was the first time I'd ever touched myself. I've always been against masturbating, always felt disgusted when I hear of it. I usually ask why people would want to do sinful things with their body. And now, the reverse is the case. I preached against these acts to Dave when he brought p**n videos for me to watch. Look at me now shamelessly doing everything I forbade myself to do and the worst part is that it felt so damn good. I hope I won't get addicted and even if I do.. I just hope I can save myself before it's too late.
My legs twitched and jerked as something ripped through me. It gushed out of my pussy, soaking my fingers. The air in the bathroom was filled with my delicious scent. It was thick and intoxicating.
"Something must be wrong with me." I uttered quietly, staring at my naked self in disbelief. "Mr. Dangerous must have used voodoo on me because tell me why I will be doing every freaking thing I said no to."
And now, I literally wanted to go again, to fuck myself with my fingers while still thinking of him. I know I might never see that stranger again and fuck, I don't know why I'm about to say this or think this but I don't think no one can make me feel the way he makes me feel.
As I scrubbed the sponge against my dirty skin, I sighed heavily "I wish I could see him again and actually ask him why he behaved like that towards me that night. Maybe—just maybe I will get him to touch me again." It was as if something pushed in images of our dirty activities into my mind. That made me clasp my thighs. I was aroused again. "Shit, Zerina. Get a hold of yourself." I closed my eyes, pushing back those images to where they came from. "I would still want to see him again but well, If wishes were horses, beggars like me would...."
The sudden bang on the bathroom door made my eyes widened.
"Zerina!!! " Florence's pitched voice berated from the door. I forgot I was supposed to meet my family for lunch as soon as possible.
With shaky breaths, I tried my best to remove what was left of the dirt in my body before rushing out. I almost slipped and it would've been a heavy fall if I wasn't quick to steady myself before a major disaster occured. I wrapped my white towel around my chest before walking out of the bathroom on bare feet.
Florence was already sitting on my small-sized couch, looking elegant and composed. Far across her were two women dressed in scrubs. I didn't need anyone to tell me they were nurses. I stared at them confused and my eyes darted back to my stepmother. What were two nurses doing in my room?
Zerina’s point of view I can't recall why that name sounded familiar. All I know is that it made a strange shiver crawl down my spine. Before I could ask more, Shea sighed, her voice sounded cautious. "Zerina, I'll dig deeper into this family but in the meantime, be careful, okay?" "Yes, I will.” She ended the call. Silence filled the room, pressing down on me. My stomach growled loudly, shattering the quiet in the room. I blinked, startled. Right. I checked the time on my phone. It has passed lunchtime. The splendor of this house made me forget something as simple as food. I stood up, deciding I should find something downstairs before my body protested further. I was used to not eating for at least two days especially when being locked up in the trauma room but now that I'm not there I don't want to suffer from lack of food. There was a soft knock on the door. Could it be Lysander?I went to open the door only to see a young woman standing there. She looked like she was in he
Author's point of view Bianca's hands trembled uncontrollably where they lay on her lap. She couldn't stop shaking. The screams stopped finally, she opened her eyes slowly to see Don dragging Melissa away. Bianca's body felt heavy, her limbs weighed down by the crushing weight of what she'd witnessed. The images of Melissa's torture seared her mind, the sounds of her girlfriend's cries echoed in her ears like a haunting melody. Bianca's mind struggled to process the trauma. Exhaustion wrapped around her like a shroud, making her feel numb, detached. Her throat burned from crying and screaming too loud, the dryness was a subtle reminder of the tears she'd shed, what she had made Melissa go through. The inability to scream, to do anything but watch and stare into space left her feeling powerless and consumed by guilt. Her heart felt like it had been wrung out, leaving only an empty, aching space. When Florence finally turned to her, she looked calm again. Peaceful, even. Her hair wa
Author's point of view The room was dark, only the dim light from the chandelier swayed faintly above, painting soft shadows across the golden wallpaper. Bianca lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling but she saw nothing. Her mind kept replaying everything that had happened earlier today. How dare Zerina confront her? She remembers the shock on Zerina's face when she was caught with Melissa, that fucking disgust in her eyes. "Like she had the right to judge me." Bianca hissed in anger. She remembered how Dave showed up, his hands on her. She remembered how Melissa stood there burning with jealousy. Why can't she have a moment of peace with Melissa for once? I love her and I don't care what anyone says. A soft sigh escaped her lips. "What a day," she murmured to herself, closing her eyes. Her body ached from tension, but her heart wouldn't stop racing. She hated how everything had spiraled out of control. The hate she has for Zerina now doubled. Why does Zerina keep ruining thin
Zerina's point of view Mr. Wilson smiled faintly, perhaps sensing the tension that hung in the air. He cleared his throat softly and clasped his gloved hands together. "Please do not let my words trouble your mind, Miss Bradford," he said in that calm, distinguished British tone that made every word sound like a poetry. "Old houses tend to carry old stories, and sometimes, those stories grow larger than truth itself." His lips lifted slightly as he bowed. "If you'll excuse me, I shall see to the evening meal arrangements. Do rest well, miss. You are quite safe here." He turned gracefully, his every movement precise and composed, and with one last courteous nod, he stepped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Silence fell. The air in the room felt heavy. I let out a slow breath and sank onto the edge of the bed, rubbing my palms against the silk fabric. He said I was safe. Somehow, the way he said it did nothing to comfort me. Just the first day I came here, I he
Zerina's point of view I didn't get why he said that. Seriously, it was much easier to count the days of a month starting from the first day, wasn't it? "Little one, like I said earlier, I really have no words to say. Only you.. only you could give me such a childish answer and get away with it." While he talked, I looked around the room, noticing how everywhere was so quiet unlike the last time I was here. "What happened to everyone? The guards, the people that dragged me. Why is everywhere so quiet?" I asked innocently, and Lysander walked towards me, then he lifted my chin with his fingers. "You ask too many questions, Zerina." He said, becoming suddenly serious. "Well, if you must know, I've always lived alone but it looks like this house now welcomes its new guest for the first time in a very long while." Is he serious? He lives in this huge mansion.. alone? "You live here.. a-alone?" I asked, still not believing what he just said. "Oh, well, if you want to count the butle
Zerina's point of view The taxi stopped in front of a towering black gate, the kind that whispered of power. The driver turned slightly, glancing at me from the rearview mirror. "We're here, miss." I blinked, my eyes travelled up to the enormous iron bars rising like a fortress in front of me. My throat tightened. "A-Are you sure this is the place? This.. this looks like.. like a..." I didn't know what to call it, but for sure, it just didn't look like a house. The driver gave a short chuckle. "This is the address you gave me. The Slade Mansion. You're in the right place, miss." I swallowed hard, staring at the intricate golden emblem embedded in the gate— the emblem of the Slade family. I stepped out of the taxi, the air surrounding me was crisp against my skin. The moment I approached the gates, it opened soundlessly, like it had been expecting me. My heart pounded faster. I have been here before, but now, it doesn't feel the same. That time, everything had been a blur of fea







