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Schooled: A Dark Romance (Melbrooke Menace Book 4) by Dahlia Kent (8)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eight

 

 

Graham led me back downstairs by the chain attached to the collar around my neck.

Mortification bloomed hot on my cheeks and ears when the conversation died away and ten pairs of eyes were riveted on my naked form. None of the guests looked appalled. As a matter of fact, I felt an undercurrent of excitement in the room.

“Everyone, our honoured guest is ready,” announced Graham. “If you would please follow me down to the basement, we can begin the show.”

He flipped a light switch and unlocked the door he’d forbade me to enter over a week ago. Several pairs of eager footsteps followed us down the stairs. The basement was a large, windowless room and even sparser with furniture and decorations than upstairs. In the center of the room was a large table surrounded by chairs. On one wall was a wide glass cabinet displaying candles, whips, paddles and handcuffs.

Seeing it all made me realize what was in store for me.

The couples took seats at the table as Graham instructed, then he guided me to the head of the table.

His gaze bored into me as he made his first command.

“Sit on the table.”

I swallowed, darting a gaze about me. Then I climbed up on to the table, trying not to pay attention to the people watching me.

“Lie back.”

I lay down flat on the smooth wooden surface, my feet dangling over the edge. My mind reeled with the possibilities of what would happen next. Graham walked away and shortly after I heard click click click then a quick fizzle. It sounded like a lighter.

Graham returned before me holding a lit candle. Our gazes met and held. The flame danced in his blue eyes and graced his handsome face with amber light. My heart racing, I held my breath, waiting for his next move. Then he put the hand out holding the lit candle and tilted it. I watched in shock as liquefied wax slipped from the candle’s and fell onto my chest.

I let out a cry and reared up from the sting of the hot wax. But Graham bent and pressed his lips to mine in a hot, sudden kiss. His tongue pushed past my lips into my mouth and the pain from the wax was immediately forgotten as I returned his kiss. Arousal burned inside me and I made a sound of frustration that was muffled by Graham’s mouth. This man was so fucking confusing. Everything he did sent me in a turmoil. I wanted to hate him but all I ended up doing was just wanting him full stop.

Graham pulled away from our kiss and pushed me back to lie down. I trembled, my lips still tingling from our kiss. Graham moved the wax over me again and tilted it. I flinched in preparation for the wax.

“Stay still and submit.” Graham ordered. “Welcome the heat. Accept the pain.”

Accept the pain. I could do that. I’d been doing it all my life. I relaxed and gasped as the hot wax dripped onto me. Graham kept the candle over me, dripping a line down the middle of my breasts to just beneath my navel. He brought the candle up and dribbled wax over my breasts, the heat intensifying the sensitivity there and making my nipples hard.

“Touch yourself, Julia.” Graham’s cajoling voice caressed me, his hungry gaze making my pulse tick quicker. “I want to watch you fuck yourself with your fingers. Will you do that for me?”

I licked my lips and nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

I moved my hands over my breasts, skimming my finger tips across my skin. I drifted my hands over my ribcage, my stomach, then between my legs. A helpless moan escaped me when my fingers glided down my wet slit. I was ashamed to enjoy touching myself while ten strangers watched, but I wanted to please Graham more.

Spreading my pussy lips open, I sank two fingers into my soaked depths and stroked myself. Then I slid my slick fingers over clit and circled it. The wax had cooled, tugging gently on my skin as I moved. Graham’s big hands came down on my knees spreading my legs open even wider. While I circled my clit, Graham slipped his hand between my legs, pushing his fingers into me as well. I moaned, my back arching off the table.

I shut my eyes and welcomed the sensation of Graham’s touch. And to block out the other people watching what Graham did to me. I wished it was just me and Graham, but at the same time, I felt a little thrill that we were being watched too.

Graham fucked me with his fingers then knelt and pressed his face right there. I moved my hands into his hair, gyrating my hips and grinding my pussy on his face. Graham lapped and licked at me, each sweet glide of his tongue on my clit making me jerk from the sensation of it.

He continued to pump his fingers into me as his mouth fastened on my clit and sucked. My orgasm came over me, making me tremble and shake beneath him. The heat of it sweeping me away as I cried Graham’s name.

Graham stood and regarded me with satisfaction.

“Guests, I want you to hold her hands.”

Several pairs of hands immediately came down on mine, securing me to the table. Graham undressed until he was completely naked. His cock hard and big, jutting out between his legs. He rolled a condom onto his thick length and stroked himself, desire in his gaze as he eyed my body.

“Do you want me to fuck you, baby?”

I squirmed. “Yes... sir... fuck me...”

He pushed into me fully and deep, stretching me wide. My legs trembled and he dug his fingers into my thighs, pulling me right up against him so he could go even deeper into me. My fingernails clawed at the table’s surface, my hands shook but I couldn’t move them because the guests still held on to me.

I moaned as Graham slid partway out of me then slid all the way back in.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned. I moaned in agreement. He was the biggest cock I’d ever taken and my pussy spasmed around his flesh in desperation to accommodate his girth. Graham roved his hands along my hips, along my waist to cup and squeeze my breasts as he rocked into me.

He pinched and pulled at my nipples, each tug yanking cries from my lips. Then he bent and sucked on my breast as he pounded into me. I wished my hands were free to hold him against me. But all I could do was endure Graham fucking me on his table while several others watched.

What were they thinking? How were they feeling to be in the midst of what was clearly live porn for them?

When I came again, Graham pulled out of me and hauled me off the table. Finally, my hands were freed. He pulled me to my feet with my back facing him and he pressed himself against me. His hands dragged possessively all over my body, his lips at my neck and ear. I parted my legs wider when his hand sunk lower and then I rose up on my tiptoes when Graham’s fingers delved deep into my soaking wet channel.

He fucked me with his fingers for a few strokes before he pushed me back down onto the table again face down.

“Hold her hands again,” he ordered the guests. Eagerly, they restrained me.

My body trembled with renewed fear and excitement. It wasn’t long before I felt the familiar sting of hot wax near the back of my neck. I cried out and tried to arch away, but the guests holding my hands prevented me from moving. I shivered as Graham poured the wax all over my back and across my bottom.

As abruptly as it started it ended. My breath gradually returned to normal as I waited for Graham’s next move. I heard his feet moving and the sound of something rustling. Then Graham was behind me again, his big rough hand caressing my ass.

SLAP!

“You’ve been a good girl tonight,” said Graham. “But you and I both know there are some wrongdoings you committed. A crime for which you ought to be punished. And I believe it’s my duty to school you on the consequences of your choices. Do you agree, Julia?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m going to flog you, Julia, and you’re going to count each one out loud.”

I shivered, my voice wavering. “Yes… yes, sir.”

SLAP!

An abrupt rising arrow of intense heat on my skin made me open my mouth on a cry. I reared up, but the guests held me down. Another slap followed the first across my ass. The heat and the pain was beyond anything I’d ever felt. It was as if a thousand hot needles were stabbing me beneath my skin.

I cried out the number of each lash Graham laid on me. The hits went all over my ass, the backs of my thighs, and up between my legs. The pain continued to radiate in waves and just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, it came to an end.

My face was wet with tears, my breathing ragged. Then Graham’s hands were on me, raising my hips and spreading my legs open wide. His cock was at my entrance pushing into me with one rough thrust that made me choke out a gasp. He growled, his fingers twisting in my hair and pulling my head back. He leaned over me, his mouth latching onto my neck as he bit me then sucked the tender flesh.

My orgasm bowled me over, the heat and wave ecstasy making the edges of my vision black. My pussy squeezed tight around Graham’s cock.

His powerful thrusts grew deeper and harder, his cock like hard, hot iron driving into me mercilessly. With a grunt, Graham came too.

So consumed by Graham, I’d forgotten about the ten strangers in the room until I heard them clapping. Graham pulled out of me and helped me to stand straight. The guests came over, thanking us both for the performance. A few of them hard barely expressed their gratitude before they were hurrying away up the stairs.

Intense embarrassment swept through me and I was grateful when Graham whispered in my ear there was a bathroom in the basement where I could go get cleaned up.

The shower’s warm water ran over me, soothing my skin. It had been just a moment ago but I still couldn’t believe what had just happened between me and Graham. We’d had rough sex on a table while being watched.

When I was done with the shower, I got out and grabbed a towel. My clothes were still in Graham’s guest room upstairs. I wasn’t ready to face any of those other people who’d watched the ‘show’ Graham and I had put on, so I sat on the edge of the bathtub and lingered in the bathroom for a bit.

A knock on the door startled me. Graham entered the room wearing a robe.

“You shouldn’t be ashamed, Julia. You should be proud of what you did tonight.” He withdrew a rectangular piece of paper and handed it to me. “You more than earned this.”

Reluctantly, I took the paper. It was a cheque made out to me for ten thousand dollars. My eyes widened at the number. I felt like if the cheque had literally slapped me.

“Huh. I didn’t know I was a ten grand kinda whore.”

Graham frowned. “You are not a whore. You weren’t paid for sex.” He gripped my shoulders and gently tugged me to my feet. “That was payment for a service that entailed sex, paid for by the guests who attended tonight. What we did wasn’t just a show, it was a sex therapy session for these couples.”

“Oh.” Now I understood what that man meant earlier. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea I’d contributed in fixing a troubled marriage. What I did wasn’t as shameful anymore. “Do they know that porn is free on the internet?”

Graham chuckled. “Some people respond better to the live experience.” His hands still on my arms, he rubbed his thumbs over my skin. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”

I rubbed my lips together, a ghost of a smile on my lips.

“At first I hated your guts and wanted to kill you, but the multiple orgasms and the ten grand is making me rethink those feelings.”

Smiling, he pulled me closer. “So is it safe to say you wouldn’t mind putting on another show with me in the future?”

“How soon are we talking?”

Graham yanked the edge of my bath towel open and snaked his arms around my naked body. Tilting his head face close, he grazed my lips with his.

“A private encore for now.”

 

 

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Excerpt of Punished

 

 

One

 

 

A weight settled on my shoulders when I stepped inside the diner’s locker room.

Sections of the beige paint were peeled away from the walls. One of the fluorescent lights stayed dark, casting shadows about the room. At least it was no longer bright enough to see the cobwebs in the ceiling corners, or the dust on the floor.

I knew how to change a fluorescent bulb. My dad had taught me while I worked in our hardware store. During my brief tour of the diner on my first day, I’d offered to fix the light. Fred, the diner’s owner, curled his lip and said women were shit at doing a man’s job.

“Don’t worry about it, sweet cheeks. I’ll fix it,” he’d said.

A year later and it was still as broken as his promise.

I opened my locker and reached for my work shoes. A cockroach ran past, and I jumped back with a squeal. It raced under the lockers before I could crush it with my foot.

I hate this place, I thought as I changed into my uniform.

My hatred included Melbrooke too. After growing up in a claustrophobic town called Coburg, I’d wanted nothing else than to get away. Freedom was an ache in my chest which didn’t ease until I’d abandoned my parents’ hardware store for Melbrooke City.

My only path in life in Coburg was marrying some guy, having kids, and being a good little housewife. Sure, that life had its positives, but as much as my parents had wanted that for me, I wanted more. When I’d left Coburg for Melbrooke, all I had was a suitcase of clothes, five hundred in cash, and a hazy dream about becoming a nurse.

I thought I was destined to play a much larger part in life than a tiny, forgettable small town girl.

I thought it would be easy to achieve everything I wanted in a place brimming with possibilities and choices.

Well, I thought wrong.

Everything worth having in this city was like a small pie. And everybody who wanted a piece of it had a knife they were willing to use on the competition. So someone like me who still said ‘please’, ‘sorry’, and ‘thank you’ was at an instant disadvantage. In a place like Melbrooke, there was no room on the ladder for slackers or people who played by the rules.

But my only option was to give up and head back to Coburg. I didn’t want to do that. Not after the flounce I’d made when my parents didn’t support my move to the city.

Wearing a white dress shirt tucked into my short black skirt, I stood and shoved my bag into my locker. Probably wasn’t the best idea with a sandwich inside my bag and a rogue cockroach on the loose.

“Ten years I’ve been working here. Ten fucking years,” Susan muttered as she stormed into the locker room.

As always, Susan tied her blonde hair back in a messy ponytail. She was in her late thirties, but the deep creases on her face made her look closer to fifty. Susan once showed me a picture of her younger self. She used to be a knockout, but her period of extreme drug abuse before she got clean stole her beauty. When she saw me, her light blue eyes lit up and she gave me a quick smile. “Hey, Jenna. How you doin’?”

I shrugged. “Can’t complain. You?”

What a lie. I could scream all my frustrations bubbling inside me at the top of my lungs. But I cared what people thought of me too much to do something like that.

“Good for you,” she said. She yanked her blue t-shirt off, revealing looping tattoos crawling down her arms, sagging breasts in a black bra, and a stomach lined with stretch marks. “Meanwhile, the rest of us gotta deal with shitheads like Fred on top of all the other shit that’s going on in our lives.” She scowled as she tugged on her white shirt with more force than necessary. “My dad had a stroke yesterday. I asked Fred for time-off to visit him in the hospital, and you know what Fred said to me?” She didn’t wait for me to respond. “He said, ‘Unless he’s stiff as my dick you ain’t taking time off on my dime.’”

I screwed up my face in disgust. “What a horrible man. I’m so sorry he said that, Susan.” I patted her shoulder, not knowing what else to do or say. I wanted to suggest she report Fred to the authorities for his awful behaviour. Maybe even peg him with sexual harassment for mentioning his penis.

But I kept my mouth shut. Fred’s disrespectful, belligerent nature wasn’t a secret. It also wasn’t a secret he had strong connections with the mafia. Men like Fred you learned to either accept or abandon quickly and quietly.

“Yeah, well, I figure Fred’s stiff dick is probably the size of a raisin, so that ain’t all bad,” Susan said. “Gotta be optimistic ‘cause life’s a bitch, right?” She pushed her feet into black shoes with thick soles and brushed the stray cat hairs from her skirt. “Kicks you into a pit filled with shit right up to your knees. Then it hands you a spoon and says, ‘Shovel all that shit out the pit with this.’ So as you’re trying to get rid of the shit with that tiny li’l spoon, life says, ‘Here’s some more for you to shovel and I got even more to give ya soon,’ and pours twice as much shit all over your head. All in your eyes and in your mouth. That’s life.”

“Wow, that’s really… um… vivid.”

“You know, my ma always said my imagination’s wilder than the hair on my pussy.”

Susan cackled as she left and I exhaled in relief. Susan might have been one of the few friendly people I’d met in Melbrooke, but she was more crass than I could handle sometimes.

Since there was a bit of time before my shift began, I hung back to check my phone for any new messages from Jackson. He was a guy I’d met on a dating site two weeks ago. After we hit it off in our initial messages, we’d exchanged phone numbers.

We’d never met in person, but I saw his pictures on the dating site. In each one of them was a smiling, handsome man with light brown hair, friendly blue-green eyes, and a fit body.

When I showed his picture to Stacy, my roommate, she curled her lip and said he was probably catfishing me. I didn’t know what that meant until she explained it was someone who pretended to be somebody else on the Internet, especially on dating websites.

Before Stacy made that comment, I would look at Jackson’s pictures and squeal a little with happiness. Men who looked like him weren’t common in Coburg, and the few that did were already locked down. Yet here was this sexy, twenty-eight-year-old who said he loved children and animals, baked in his spare time, and worked for an investment firm.

And he was single.

I was twenty-two years old and still a virgin. Still waiting for the perfect guy I trusted with all of me. Stacy said I was delusional to believe perfect men existed. Yet just talking with Jackson, hearing his sexy voice on the phone, and learning as much about him as he learned about me made me believe he was The One.

“He isn’t the one,” Stacy had said, rolling her eyes. “There’s no such thing, Jenna. Grow up. This guy’s too good to be true. You better be careful before you get yourself into trouble.”

I didn’t want to believe Stacy, but I had some doubts about Jackson. But the doubt disappeared when I read Jackson’s latest text:

Jenna, I would love to see you in person. Meet me for dinner tomorrow?

Hell yeah, I would! My response was a lot more measured, of course. I read in a magazine that an overeager woman looked ‘desperate and needy’ in a man’s eyes and he’d lose respect for her.

Floating out of the locker room as if the ground were made of clouds, I clocked in to get to work.

“Heads up,” Susan said, approaching me with a pot of coffee and a sly smile. “Sexy guy in a suit at table five.”

I headed toward the table she indicated. The man looked up from his cell phone and watched me as I approached. His eyes were a rich dark brown and they pinned me with an intensity that stole my breath and weakened my knees a little.

His dark hair was professionally cut and he wore a charcoal grey suit that hugged his body. Even seated, he gave off the vibe of a man accustomed to being in charge.

“Welcome to Fred’s Diner,” I said, my voice higher than usual. “What can I get you today?”

He didn’t speak right away and I fidgeted beneath his intent gaze. I had this strange sense he could see past my too-stretched smile and through every secret I had hidden in my soul.

“Sir,” he finally said, his voice deep and smooth.

“Excuse me?”

“‘What can I get you today, sir?’ Repeat it.” The inside of my stomach tightened when he spoke. For some reason, I wanted to follow this stranger’s orders instead of being put-off by his commanding tone.

“What can I get you today, sir?” I pressed the pen to my notepad but my hand was shaking too much to write. So I dropped my hands at my sides and decided I’d take his order by memory.

“Good girl,” he said. “Coffee, black, one sugar, and a tomato and feta omelette.”

“Got it.” I nodded, blushing and pleased with his praise.

“Are you going to write that down…” his gaze darted to my name tag over my left breast, “Jenna?”

“No, it’s… I… fine.” I shook my head and huffed out an embarrassed laugh. My face and the tips of my ears burned. “I mean, it’s fine. I have it. Is there anything else you want… sir?”

His gaze lingered on my mouth before sweeping over my body with interest.

“Yes.”

 

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