Suddenly, the roar of powerful engines slices through the air, cutting off the conversation. Dozens of high-end cars flood into the main parking lot, stealing the attention of every guy standing near us. All eyes go wide at the sight of Ferraris, Lamborghinis, and Aston Martins gliding in like a private parade of wealth and dominance. “Fucking hell,” someone mutters from the back, lighting a cigarette. “That’s the new V500!” another exclaims, pointing at Daniel’s gleaming new ride. The cars pull up and park with precision. One by one, the boys step out, confident and cool. Each of them moves around to the passenger side, opening the doors and helping their submissives out like they’re royalty. “Fuck,” says the guy still leaning over me. His voice is low, almost reverent. “What the hell are they drinking over there?” The doms and their subs immediately zero in on the men in front of us. Their gazes are sharp, dangerous—like wolves spotting a threat near their territory. “We shoul
And we are gone. In a flash, the motorbike shoots forward with so much violent force, it feels like something out of a dream—or a nightmare. It's almost inhuman, the way it launches us out of the parking lot. My body jerks from the acceleration, and my heart slams against my ribs. Ahead of us, a whole line of luxury cars creeps forward, all obnoxiously shiny and over-the-top. Ridiculous colors—hot pink, chrome gold, electric blue—turn the road into a gaudy rainbow of wealth. Every vehicle here screams excess. One glance at this street and you’d think world hunger could be solved by selling just two of these cars. I can’t wipe the grin off my face as we wind through the crowd like we own the road. I spot Daniel’s blue Ferrari, and right in front of him, Noah’s white and gold Lamborghini. The cars blur together—Bentleys, Aston Martins, one ostentatious beast after another—until the countryside roads fade behind us, and the main road stretches out like an open vein waiting to be bled
“You look different today,” Isla says from behind me, studying me through the mirror. “Do I?” I reply, tilting my head slightly. “Yeah... You look... I don’t know, like a woman. You’re carrying yourself differently,” she murmurs thoughtfully, her eyes scanning my reflection like she’s seeing me for the first time. “About time,” I joke, sticking out my tongue. She snorts in response. “The girls are so excited about our secret competition.” I grin. “Me too. I’m also looking forward to that wine after.” Two sharp knocks cut through the room, instantly silencing us. Our eyes lock for a few seconds—time to switch back into our submissive roles. “Ready?” Isla whispers. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I sigh. I open the door to find not one, but two doms standing there. “Double the fun?” I quip, looking up at Aiden and Daniel, both towering over me with their absurdly tall frames. “Morning to you too, Dani,” Daniel mutters, flashing a wink at Isla, who drops her gaze and walks out wit
My high crashes over me like a tidal wave. That fuzzy, familiar feeling floods my body—it feels so good it almost hurts. The intrusive thoughts that haunted me moments ago begin to drift away, dissolving one by one until they scatter, leaving my mind in quiet disarray.A single tear escapes the corner of my eye.Another slice carves into my collarbone, just beneath the first.Emotions surge through me, raw and unstoppable. Another tear falls, followed by a rare, broken sob.I never show my pain. Never.But right now, I can't stop it.The pain is too much. I can't control it anymore—it's controlling me.And gods, it feels good. It feels so good to let go.I surrender to the tears, letting them come, letting them wrap me in their hollow comfort. By the time they dry—after two more careful slices—my mind feels strangely empty. Light. Like there's fresh air inside me for the first time in ages.Like I can breathe again.What’s happening to me?Slowly, I open my eyes. And there he is.Aide
I skip the last lesson. I just can’t deal with housekeeping today. We don’t actually learn to clean, of course—we’ll have cleaners and a full staff for that—but we are taught how to run the household. We’re taught what counts as acceptable cleanliness. How to approach the staff. What’s expected of us as wives. Gag. And skipping class means nobody will bother me. Nobody will be around. Isla won’t be done for at least another hour. I nearly run to the safety of my room. My mind’s overflowing with this day. All I can feel are their eyes on me, their disgusting thoughts pressing down like a weight. The way we girls are sexualised—the way I was sexualised today—it makes me want to scream. I slam the door shut and strip off my crop top. My skirt comes next, landing in the middle of the floor as I yank open my drawer. I need space. I need to breathe. I need to let go. I don’t even think twice before sitting on my bed and pushing down my panties. The scarred skin on my hip, always hi
When the music picks up pace, a ripple of motion flows through the room—every girl turns, synchronized like we’ve rehearsed it. My leg shifts just enough to pivot my stance without leaving my spot. In one elegant move, I spin, my back now facing Aiden. My ass presses against him firmly, teasing, claiming space that isn’t mine to own. My hair, long and loose, tumbles like silk down my spine, a curtain of temptation. All around me, I see girls working their men, undulating bodies and sly smiles, the air thick with arousal. But I feel it—eyes on me. Watching. Wanting. Some of the doms are focused on me while they feel their own subs working them. I know what I look like when I move like this. I can feel the sensuality dripping from my every motion. It’s in the way my hips circle, in the flex of my thighs, in how I stretch and twist with deliberate, luscious grace. Like a snake poised to devour. Like a woman who owns every inch of her power. I sit up slowly, a feline rise, and roll my