24
Kaya’s POV.
I thought wrong. It isn’t the end. They slide my legs off of the bed and position my face tight against the bed before Kade thrusts back inside, wrecking my hole even more.
I’m panting hard and trying to hit him to slow down, give me a breathing space, but then he grabs my hands and locks them at my back only so he can puncture my core once again.
It still doesn’t stop there. He wriggles his cock around my entrance before Kyle finally digs inside, widening me up like a balloon filled with an abrupt blow of air.
My eyes roll to the back of my head as salty perspiration fills my forehead like a bead. The intimacy continues with ragged breathing from the brothers.
I’m more than sore, having surrended myself wholly. I’m in between pleasure and pain once again.
Suddenly, a wave starts gathering inside my cunt, tightening it more around Kyle’s dick. I can feel my walls aiming to crush, and he groans at it too. Then I feel something warm inside me, shooting inside-his seeds right before he thrust his entire cock inside, and my stomach twists at the inconveniency.
I’m about to reach my own climax, but then he denies me by receding sharply.
I am weak and unstable at this point, ruin to the horizon. The certainty that my legs will be left coggled is unwavering.
My body just keeps feeling the sensation, not fighting against it anymore. A wholly part of me wants this, enjoys it but in the form at which they fuck me kills me, hurts me.
Yet I keep getting wet. I can smell the mixture of sweat, blood, and cum on my body.
Soon, the gushing wave overwhelms me again, capturing my legs that I seize in one spot so that Kieran can dig deeper, damaging me more, and my walls let out the rush.
I am unable to control my audibility; my moan fills the whole space, and at the same time, Kieran jerks off on my back.
The brothers leave me in the position, my toes trying to hold onto the ground so I don’t utterly slide off of the bed.
“Get out.” Kade’s booming voice yells at me.
I whimper as I try to pick myself up from the bed. My arms feel weak and unstable from the way he pinned them against my back earlier, the joints aching me. My brain can’t register the feeling of my lower teeth, including my gum, telling me that they’re still stressed.
Then, down my body, when I finally gained equilibrium to stand up, everything feels open.
I can’t make it make sense, but my entire skin feels invisible, like my insides aren’t sheltered by my skin anymore. The cold air seeps through, forcing me into a chilly situation.
Another hard task is picking up the torn clothes from the floor. Through my wet hair covering my face, I take a peep at the brothers; they are now dressed up like nothing happened earlier. They leave me in awe.
With my legs weak, I draw myself out of the room until I lean my back on the wall and wrap myself in the torn dress.
Unable to hold myself standing much longer, I slide down. Every ounce of will to move or do anything is crushed. I just want to relax. Soon, I succumb to a void of darkness, my consciousness fading but the anguish within me an occasional eruption.
****
I wake up with someone hitting me on the leg.
“Wake up, bitch…”
As my vision comes to accomodation of my surroundings, jerking me awake fully, a croaking escapes my lips.
I’m hungry, thirsty, worn out, and in need of a shower and a new dress. But, oh, that’s some fantasy. I didn’t escape last night.
Like a gust of wind, my memories crash back, and I snap into full consciousness.
“Darn it, you fucker…” He hit me on the cheeks, sending splinters of hurt to resonate around my body.
“Arrh…”
“Wake up.”
“I am!” I wish I could scream back at whoever this is, but I dare not.
No recollection in my memory serves me right from wherever I could have met this man. Anyway, I try to stand only to be reminded of what happened to me just over midnight.
“I’m awake…” My voice is little, and I hope he doesn’t hit me again. The anguish is enough to make my body a living hell, a space that can’t house my soul anymore, and there’s no way I can give.
“Listen to me well. I’m going to be your tormentor. You’ve done enough damage in the kingdom, having the death of a maid in your hands, and as an effect, every ill action you take that is not by the rules made by your owners, I shall punish you for it.” He makes himself clear with a perilous tone while his stern face wavers away from my body.
The death of Melissa is pinned on me.
Well, of course, the triplets didn’t have to kill her if we hadn’t planned to run away from here, and that distresses me so much.
I use my hands to hold tight to the clothes, even though they aren’t covering my body as much when we enter the room.
The guard’s eyes remain stuck on my body. “There’s a new dress you would put on after taking a bath. Wash off that filth from your body.” His eyes bear nothing but pure hatred and malice. “I’ll be back by evening. You’re relocating.”
His words leave me hanging there. Relocating? Where? Why?
It’s not like he’d answer me anyway. When I turn my head to the side, I don’t see him inside the room anymore.
Instinctively, a lump forms in my throat, but I’m unable to swallow it without massaging my neck again, being reminded of how I was used a few hours ago.
Inside the bathroom, I turn on the shower, and I’m grateful that the water cascading is warm. Standing under there, drafting into my thoughts, allowing my head to sink under the clouds, I lose myself in a trance.
Melissa shouldn’t have died. It should have been me. Okay, fine, she tried to sell me off to that alpha sadistic, but at least she got me out of here.
A part of my heart feels betrayed by her fake friendship, all just to gain her own freedom, but in a place like this, I am not as surprised. She’s just trying to be free, but I just wish she had chosen a less painful way for me to die.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.
While it’s certain that I won’t live to see the next full moon, and that inserts a rejuvenation, I still don’t want to die having faced continuous horror. Then, it’s almost no difference from when I’m here with the triplets.
As the water washes away the sin evident on my skin, occasionally I hiss at the burns all over my body. From my shoulder blade, where there’s a cut, to my neck, where there are three fresh bite marks, I try to touch it, but then my arms feel heavy, like I have been carrying some metallic dumbbells.
And down to my abdomen, where a striking sensation of colic pain hits me on the inside. I can’t even touch my own kitty, knowing that it’s like meat that’s been overboiled. I have this fear that if I try to wash it, my vulva will break into my palms. And then, my thighs, which are still weak and sore, can barely bend down just so I can exercise my center.
I can’t help but pray that I don’t face this experience again when, stupidly, my body says otherwise.
How fucked up have I become?
I’m in pain, yet I want it to be inflicted on me again?
I’ve faced nothing but disaster since I met the triplets, yet I can’t help my titillation around them or how much I crave for their dicks now that I’ve seen them, even when it’s laced me in this circumstance?
I’m insane. I must be. Being here has caused that. It all started with the suffering, then someone died because of me. What next?
Is there more torture ahead?
Would there be no escape for me?
“Oh, heavens… why?” A question that would never be answered. I’m crying when I lose my steps and fall. My hands cover my mouth to muffle my scream, not wanting to attract the guard, so I remain there in that ill-fitting setting, wondering what’s next.