Page 11 of Their Dark Rose

But he’s right. I am a big girl now.

I look down at my sheer, cream-colored nightgown. The sheer fabric does a poor job of hiding my full breasts. My soft belly. The curves of my hips.

No one has seen me like this. I’ve been locked up here for eight years.

And I burn to have their eyes on me.

So, if he punishes me… If any of them do… It won’t be so bad.

In fact, it might even wake them up. Maybe it’ll stir them out of their years-long hibernation. Make them love me again.

Make them see me as the woman I’ve transformed into under their roof.

I yearn for their eyes to be on my grown-up body. Bare of lingering anger or resentment.

Filled with love and lust.

I’ve been craving it for a year now.

My pink nipples harden, poking through the lace. I stare up at my reflection in the round vanity mirror in my bathroom. My pupils are dilated. The violet color of my eyes darkens, the black swallowing the amethyst.

Lying to myself, denying my attraction to them, is useless.

The confession empowers me.

Then unease claims me. Squeezing my chest painfully.

Fuck, I’m sick. Being turned on by my bully. A much older, thirty-five-year-old bully, at that. Wanting him and his thirty-three and thirty-six-year-old brothers who raised me.

Compared to them, I’m incredibly young. They’ve been a part of my life forever.

My heart, however, doesn’t give a shit.

Should one or more of them decide to whip me with their belts, I wouldn’t say no.

Yes, I’m sick. I’m definitely sick.

And today, I can’t help but act on my forbidden attraction. For the first time in a year of dreaming about the three of them, I will do something about it. Something more than just provoking them, so they come out from behind their walls.

I become the woman I mean for him to see.

“You are aware that I can’t get in the shower while you’re out there talking to me?” I plant the idea in his head. Of me naked.

I hope the others are near. I hope they overheard me.

That they have a picture of me in their heads. Without a shred of clothes on. Under the showerhead as steam billows around me.

The more I stew in this fantasy, the hotter I get.

“You know, since I have to clean up well everywhere?”

They need to imagine exactly how clean I’ll get. What I might do with the powerful spray of the handheld showerhead.

I’m a virgin. I’m young.

Yet, no one can call me naïve. I know my way around computers, and I have a personal credit card.

Two dangerous things for a girl who’s interested in consuming erotic books. In exploring the kinks no one’s ever explained to her.

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