Page 84 of Deadmen's Captive

And then Tristan, his complete opposite. My golden man with his messy blond hair and sparkling blue eyes, and that smile that gave me butterflies every time. I’d misjudged him, believed him to be the shallow playboy everyone had warned me about, and yet the time we’d spend together just hanging out, had shown me a different side of him. He was easy going, yes, but he was generous and kind, and I knew there was more to him than the mask he wore. I had feelings for him now, I couldn’t deny that, and yes, I knew it was more than likely when the year ended, he’d break my heart, but I was too involved now.

They might not be interested in a relationship with me, but they still treated me better than my parents ever had, and while their hands left bruises too, they also brought me pleasure I could never have guessed at. And maybe what I had done for them tonight was degrading, but it had also made me feel more powerful than ever. Seeing those men reduced to sighs and moans as I took them in my mouth, it had turned me on so much, and I had felt strong. I closed my eyes, summoning the sensations that had coursed through me as I moved between them—each act a declaration of defiance against her whether I’d realised it at the time or not.

Maybe I was some kind of sexual deviant, maybe there was something very wrong with me. That’s what my mother had always said, and I’d spent my life crawling, and begging, and doing whatever she wanted, desperate to prove her wrong, determined to be perfect. But tonight, something else had risen inside me. Yes, I’d been on my knees, I’d been controlled and used, but for some reason, tonight I had really fucking loved it. Submitting to them like that, feeling their cocks stuffed in my mouth and their cum running down my throat and over my chin. Even now, the memory made my body heat. They’d awakened something inside me that kept me craving more of their touch, their words, fuck, even their cocks. As Bast had touched me there on his lap in front of the hall, I’d felt him growing hard again, his cock pressing against my ass from behind as I’d squirmed against him, and I’d been so close to begging him just to take me right there in front of everyone.

I was nothing more than a needy mess around these men; a fact that both scared and thrilled me. I was no longer the perfect, controlled doll my mother desired. I was becoming something else entirely – wild, expressive... free. I didn't understand these feelings, this strange mix of shame and pleasure. This tug-of-war between what I was supposed to feel according to my mother's twisted values, and how I truly felt – alive, powerful, free. The thought of going back home to her suffocating control choked me more than any man's cock ever could.

There was something liberating about being used like that. About taking on the role of a sexual object, but not in the way my mother had wanted me to – not as a pristine trophy, but instead as a living, breathing source of pleasure. A woman who could bring men to their knees with desire even while kneeling herself.

I ran my fingers along the raw marks on my body, left by the rough grip of men lost in primal lust. They were reminders of the dark pleasure I had discovered with them. And even though each touch also reminded me of the countless times I had been forced to bear pain in silence under my mother's harsh discipline, the sensation was different now. These marks weren't badges of shame anymore; they were trophies of victory against the chains she had tried to bind me with. A thrill pulsed through me at the thought of what I had done and the power I had felt. I brushed my fingers over my mouth, reminiscing the texture of their cocks and the taste of their spend. A shiver of desire ran down my spine, settling between my thighs. Their queen, their Persephone, their good little slut.

I lay back and my fingers trailed down between my legs, stroking over my pussy, as I remembered the feel of their cocks pushing between my lips. Especially Nate. He’d been so fucking big, I’d nearly refused, and it had been hard to take, stretching my mouth around him, the way he’d slid against the back of my throat when I’d barely taken half of him. My fingers slid through my growing wetness as I thought about how I’d gagged and choked around his shaft. I needed it again, needed more. I wanted to be able to take all of him. Bast had been willing to teach me, maybe Nate would be too, if I knelt at his feet and begged him for his cock again.

My back arched against the sheets as I touched myself the way Bast had shown me. It felt wrong, pleasuring myself without him here, but at the same time, so deliciously wrong. I felt my climax creeping nearer and nearer as I pictured Nate, hands gripping my hair, pulling on it, as he fucked my mouth, sliding deeper into my throat…

A vibrating noise filled the room, and a strange glow appeared on the ceiling. I glanced to the nightstand where my phone lay, my breath catching in my throat as I saw the number. My mother was calling. I should answer.

I dipped two fingers inside myself, my eyes fixed on the number on the screen, breathing heavily. She’d be so mad if I didn’t answer. But I was so fucking close. I moved my fingers faster, fucking myself with them as I ground the heel of my hand against my clit. The phone kept ringing, but for once, my mother would have to wait.

Some dark delight at knowing I was keeping her waiting while I touched myself filled my mind and I grinned at the thought mf my little rebellion before gasping out as I reached my release, waves of pleasure coursing through me, a whimper escaping my lips. I didn't care. Not about the phone, not about her, not in that moment. No one had a right to pull me away from the sweet abyss of pleasure. The phone buzzing on the table was merely background noise now as I rode out the waves of pleasure that hit me one after another. It was intoxicating, the freedom to indulge in myself without restraints.

My heart pounded in my chest as I lay there in Bast's bed, my breaths slowing. I was Persephone now, queen to Hades and his underworld. I didn't know what that meant yet for me, but I did know that it felt right - more right than anything ever had.

Slowly, I lifted my hand from between my quivering thighs and reached for the phone. My pulse spiked as I answered it, my voice shaky.

“Mum.”

“Hello Paige.”

“It’s late. Is everything ok?”

“I wanted to congratulate you on securing your position.” Icy fear washed over me. No, there was no way she could know…

“I’m sorry, I don't understand what you mean?” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking, as my entire body started to tremble.

“Your position as the Deadmen’s Persephone. I hear you accepted the position officially tonight and completed your second trial.”

My fingers tingled, and my heart seemed to beat harder and louder in my chest. I hadn’t had a panic attack in a couple of years, but I knew the signs of one, and I fought to breathe.

“I… how…?” was all I managed.

“You didn’t think I’d send you off to Blackvellyn without some way of keeping an eye on you, did you? One of the servers this evening likes to earn a little cash on the side, and no one ever notices the staff.”

“Mum, I… I’m sorry…”

“"Sorry? Don’t be ridiculous, Paige. I’m proud of you.”

I felt like I’d been punched, and my chest tightened further. “What?”

"You heard me. I am proud of you, Paige. You have finally begun to understand what it means to wield power."

"But… you don’t care that I… that they..."

"I don't care about the finer details, darling. Just remember why you are there."

"I'm here because of a scholarship..." I said weakly, a sick feeling rising inside me.

"No," my mother's tone was ice-cold now. "You are there to do as I say, and nothing more. You are exactly where I wanted you, and now you will finally prove your worth to this family."

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