Filthy Surrender: The Forbidden Files のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

Chapter One – I had come to offer myself which I now realized was fucking stupid and fucking unnecessary. My sister's face flickered in my mind as I recalled her tearful phone call about the debt she had racked up with the wrong people, and the threat of what they would do if she didn't pay. “This one volunteered”, the auctioneer, a tall man with silver rings on every finger, announced, grabbing my arm as I stepped forward from the line of trembling girls. “Says she'll take her sister's place”. He completed, eyeing me up and down. A murmur rippled through the crowd and my eyes glanced over the rows of men in dark suits that filled the velvet chairs. From the line, I had seen how their hungry eyes studied the women paraded across the wooden stage under dim amber lights. My hands started sweating and bile threatened to escape my mouth not only because of what was about happening but also because the basement reeked of cigar smoke, and expensive cologne. Even as the murmurs

Chapter One – Novalie’s POV I frowned as I watched my mother giggle at something her new husband whispered. I just sat rigid in my emerald dress made of silk that clung to my curves. My hands were folded in my lap and they fidgeted occasionally. I reached for my champagne, needing something to do with them when I heard the chair beside me scrape back. I didn't need to turn to know who that was. My new step brother. Randy Pierce. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that fell just over his brows and a jaw that was so sharp. He just slid into the chair, wearing a charcoal jacket with no tie and the top button of his shirt was undone. “Relax sis”, he said low enough that only I could hear. When I turned to glare at him, he had this stupid smirk on his lips. “You're sitting like you're about to be executed”. God, I hated him right from when we met before the wedding. He was what people called, the ultimate player. I faced forward and took a sip of my champagne when I

Chapter Three – Novalie's POV “We forgot our phones”. My mother walked in, smiling. “Did you two have a nice morning?”. I just smiled back, trying to act as normal as I could. Randy on the other hand, leaned against the doorway, arms crossed with his usual smirk firmly in place. “The best”. I just stared at the book in my hands even as the words blurred. My thighs were sticky and my cunt ached. My mother walked up the stairs and immediately the door to her room shut, his hand clamped around my wrist, pulling me upstairs. “What the heck, Randy? Where —”. I whisper-yelled. “I'm not done with you yet”. He cut me off as we continued up the stairs, my legs still shaky from the living room. Immediately we made it to my room, he shoved me through the door and locked it behind us. I stumbled onto the bed, and my skirt bunched around my waist, while his cum was still slick on my thighs. He was on me before I could even breathe. His mouth crashed against mine in a hungry and possessive

Chapter Two – I was supposed to be running laps. Coach had made that clear when he had dismissed the rest of the team at six, telling me to stay until the field lights turned off at ten. But instead of laps, I was leaning against the goalpost, arms crossed, while I watched the empty bleachers. I mean, he couldn't blame me. I was exhausted, especially since I had also stayed until ten PM, the previous day as per his order. I heard his footsteps before I saw him. The gravel crunched under his feet, and the steady rhythm of his stride approached. He rounded the corner of the tunnel, still in his coaching polo and shorts, a whistle hanging around his neck. When he saw me standing still, not even stretching, his jaw tightened. “You're not practicing”. I didn't answer. I just stared at him. He walked closer until he was a few feet away. “You forgot what I told you? You forget my disciplinary action?”. My breath hitched at the words as I remembered the mat, the burn, and the way

Chapter Two – I had told myself I wouldn't come back but here I was. For those seven days, I had still felt his cum in between my legs and I had felt the sting of the needle. I couldn't also get the phantom press of his fingers inside me out of my mind. I had touched the fresh scabs under my clothes, reliving every second of what had happened and hating myself for wanting more. But when Thursday arrived, I found myself wandering back to his tattoo shop. There was no reason for me to be back there but my feet had already carried me there. The bell chimed as I walked through the doors only to find that he was already in gloves and the machine was humming but he didn't look up. This was just like the first time. “You're late”. He said, laying a fresh needle out. I wanted to slap him for how rude he also sounded but I didn't. I just looked around, noting how there was no one today as well. Didn't people come here often to get tattoos? Pushing every other thing aside, I unbuttoned