Page 72 of Carnival Mayhem

“Your turn, Jake,” she says. “Let’s see how much you can take.”

They sob, begging for mercy behind the gags, but Flora isn’t done. She’s prepared to mete out the same treatment they gave her, and even this is only a fraction of what she felt. Nash and I stand sentinel, ready to support her to carry out her vengeance. We each have our ghosts, and Flora is facing her head-on.

I reach out, squeezing her shoulder. “You’re doing great.”

Her eyes find mine, shimmering with unshed tears. “Thank you,” she mouths.

I step back, giving her space to finish what she started.

My chest is tight with a mix of emotions while I watch her. This woman, this beautiful, fierce angel, has endured so much, and now she’s taking back her power. The rage inside me burns at the sight of her abusers. These men thought their actions had no consequences. They were somehow entitled to their evil depravity simply because theywantedit.

Her eyes shine with a wild light as she stares down at the men, sobbing at her feet. Jake and Tommy, the monsters who thought they could play their sick games without paying a price.The hammer still in her hand, she leans down, her face close to theirs, and begins to speak.

“You pieces of shit,” she snarls, each word dripping with contempt. “Did you think you could get away with what you did to me? Did you think I’d stay quiet forever?”

Their eyes widen in fear as they hear her voice, strong and steady despite the tears streaking her cheeks. She’s claimed her power, and she’s not giving it back.

“You used me, hurt me, and thought it was funny. Well, how does it feel now, huh?” She digs the hammer’s handle deeper into Jake, ignoring his whimpers. “Do you like it? Do you like being the ones on the receiving end?”

The man’s eyes dart back and forth, desperate, pleading. But Flora doesn’t show them mercy. They never gave her any, and she’s not about to start a kindness campaign now. Her words slash at them, sharp and biting.

“Sluts,” she growls, spitting the word like an insult. “Whores. You thought I was yours to play with, but look at you now. Pathetic, begging for mercy. You don’t deserve it.”

Their eyes plead with me, but I offer no comfort. Flora continues her verbal assault.

“No one’s going to save you now,” she whispers, her lips curved in a cruel smile. “You’re mine, just like I was yours. And I plan to make you suffer, just like you made me suffer.”

Their struggle intensifies, their eyes wild. Flora has become more than our angel; she’s become the avenging angel who sets her demons free. Seeing her like this fuels the fire in my veins. She’ll never again be a victim; the proof is her standing tall, holding their fate in her hands.

“Look at these hard dicks,” she says, contempt in her voice. “Even now, you’re getting off on this. You sick fucks.”

Her words strike at the heart of their weakness, and they squirm, unable to deny the truth. I hold their gaze, letting them see the steel in my eyes. No pity. No escape.

“You’re right, Flora,” I murmur. “They’re getting off on this.”

With that, I reach down and grab their dicks, pumping them hard, rough, as Flora watches, her eyes gleaming with dark desire.

“That’s it, sluts,” she breathes. “Get off on your own pain for a change. But remember, it’s us who control this now. We hold the power.”

And as their hips buck against my hands, their eyes pleading, I know that we’ve finally given Flora what she needs—a chance to rewrite her story and become the author of theirs.

33

FLORA

My fingers tighten around the handle of the hammer. I could have handled this in many ways, but this is best. The perfect punishment, an ass for an ass, if you will.

I couldn’t have asked for more fitting instruments of revenge than Colt and Nash. Revenge is a sweet dish best served cold, and they’re cold as ice.

I watch as Colt strokes their cocks, the muscles in his arms bunching. Tommy and Jake are bound and helpless on all fours.

“Don’t let them come, Colt. They don’t deserve it—I never did.” My voice is steady despite the storm of emotions inside me. “This isn’t about pleasure; it’s about pain.”

Nash arches one of his brows at me as my eyes meet his. I nod, and he understands. Time to stop playing and get serious. They’ve had their fun; now it’s my turn. I yank the hammer carelessly out of Jake’s ass and bring it down on Tommy’s back with a satisfying thud. He screams, his voice echoing in the confined space.

“Let’s see how tough you really are, Tommy. Let’s see how you like a little pain.” I bring the hammer down again and again.It’s cathartic, freeing. Every swing of the hammer releases more of the weight I’ve carried since I turned sixteen.

I pause, looking at Jake, who is whimpering and struggling against his binds. “Your turn, Jake. Let’s see how you like it.” I stride over to him and slam the hammer into his back, relishing the sound of flesh meeting metal. “You both deserve this and so much more.”

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