Page 21 of Evil Deeds

I focus on his rough, steady thrusts, his rapid breathing, his soft grunts of satisfaction. When he finally cums, I don’t move. I wait until he stands, and then I climb to my feet, my knees shaking so hard I can barely hold myself upright. There’s a big splotch of blood in the middle of the floor. The sight makes my head swim, and I run back into his room and into his bathroom. I sit on the toilet for a minute, rolling out toilet paper and blotting my face. When I stand, the water in the bowl is so red that when I flush, the swirling blood makes me dizzy again. I fall to my knees, hugging the bowl and squeezing my eyes closed while I vomit into the fresh, clear water refilling the bowl.

When I’m done, I keep my eyes closed while I flush, pressing my forehead to my arm.

“You should see a doctor,” Baron says, his voice uninflected, almost bored, as he stands at the counter, washing his dick in the sink. “Most girls don’t bleed that much even without lube.”

I nod mutely, too exhausted to answer, to tell him I fucking know it’s not normal, and maybe if he’d stop doing it, whatever’s fucked up in there will heal. But there’s no use telling him that. Baron doesn’t care if I heal. He cares about what he wants, what feels good to him. Causing pain feels good to him.

I knew better than to provoke him.

“There are pads under the sink,” he says, checking his phone when a text comes through. “Take one and get out of here. Duke’s tagging out.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and I’ll allow you to date that idiot,” he adds, pausing in the doorway. “I want to see his face when he finds out. But make no mistake, you are still ours. We’ll fuck you whenever we want, and nothing changes at school. I don’t have time to train someone to take your place.”

He leaves the bathroom, and I hear him take the tray of food and leave. My legs are wooden when I stand. I clean up and take a few minutes to get myself together before stepping out of the bathroom. I turn my face up as I pass the stain on the carpet in the hall, but then I’m staring at the light where I know their father has a camera mounted. Mr. Dolce put it there because he said the maid was stealing, but Royal said it’s really to keep watch over his kids because he’s always in their business. I pray he isn’t home, that he didn’t witness the shame of what just happened.

When I step out into the sultry, oppressive evening heat, I’m so relieved that Royal’s gone that I almost cry. I don’t think I could handle talking to someone right now.

But then, I know that I can.

It’s amazing the battering that a human body can survive, that a psyche can withstand, and keep going, keep dancing. So, I’ll go home and have dinner with my family and act like everything is completely normal.

After all, it is.

I wonder as I walk, though, how this became normal. I wince with every step, gritting my teeth and forcing myself not to show the pain as I smile and wave to Mr. Montgomery and his new wife out on the porch having cocktails. When I reach our front door, I have that weird, disconcerted feeling again, the one where I can’t remember the wrong turn I took to end up here.All I know is thatanyone who says the walk of shame is wearing the same clothes the next day has never walked home leaking blood and cum from two different holes left by two different men.

seven

Rumor Has It… The two new transfers are part of Faulkner’s Elite! Will they be the new faces of royalty at Willow Heights? Or will the current monarchs’ reign continue unchecked?

Rylan Woods

Gloria’s sitting at her vanity again. She didn’t used to be so vain, so enamored with her own face in the mirror. I had to trade rooms with Amber so I could see through Lo’s window, and now I watch her all the time. I even bought a pair of binoculars so I could get a good look and make sure she’s not lying to me about anything.

She never undresses where I can see, but I like to watch her do mundane tasks too. There’s something perversely satisfying in knowing that I’m violating her without her even knowing it. She leans into her mirror and carefully blends her makeup. When she starts doing her lips, I set down the bass guitar I was fucking around on, unzip, and slide a hand into my jeans. I jerk on my cock until I’m stiff. Then I hurry out of the Montgomery house, across the lawn to the Waltons’, and climb the tree outside Gloria’s window. I take a few steps across the roof, slide the glass up, and drop to the floor inside her room.

“Get on the bed,” I say without bothering to greet her.

“Rylan,” she protests. “We don’t have time. The game starts in an hour.”

“Who cares about the game?”

“I care,” she says, staring at me in the mirror.

“I’m your boyfriend. I come before the football players.”

“Obviously,” she says, turning to me with a smile. I would think her smile was fake if they weren’t all like that now.

“Then why do you care about some stupid football players?” I demand. “Are you trying to make one of them jealous by dating me?”

“Of course not. I have to go to the games,” she says, pleading for me to understand. “I’m head cheerleader.”

“So?”

“So the squad relies on me for all our routines. I’m top girl.”

“If you were gone, they’d put someone else on top.”

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