lois333
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Hey guys ! Just back from vacation, and as I've been asked many times, yeah TCB is still on going.
I'm guessing, since I get dm's and comments about my different stories, that if I see comments on my latest posted chapter regarding what i'm writing next, I might just do a pole, or follow the comments if it has likes or if the story is mentioned multiple times.
Anyway, thanks as always for your support, bear with me this chapter is a lot about character development.
I'm guessing, since I get dm's and comments about my different stories, that if I see comments on my latest posted chapter regarding what i'm writing next, I might just do a pole, or follow the comments if it has likes or if the story is mentioned multiple times.
Anyway, thanks as always for your support, bear with me this chapter is a lot about character development.
Chapter 15 - Empty Victory
The limousine glided to a halt in front of the house, yet inside, the air was thick with raw tension, a suffocating silence laced with unspoken thoughts and lingering resentment.
Ashley sat rigid near the window, her gaze fixed on some unseen point outside. Her arms were crossed beneath her chest, constrained by the thick bra that served as a barrier against the golden bells still dangling from her nipples. Every breath she took was a reminder of their presence, the phantom warmth of Evelyn’s fingers, the insidious brush of the bells against her skin. A shiver of irritation ran down her spine.
Evelyn. The other woman sat motionless on the opposite side of the limousine. But Ashley could feel her. Her scent. Her breath. That unbearable presence haunting her thoughts like a poison refusing to dissipate.
A faint noise briefly drew Ashley’s attention. She glanced down at her legs, pressed tightly together, her muscles tensed against her will. The thick lab socks enveloping her feet were the only thing shielding her from the impossible sensitivity pulsing beneath her skin. She didn’t want to think about it. Not now, when she was finally about to have her husband to herself.
Brian sat across from her, desperately searching for some anchor, some sign of recognition. He no longer recognized Ashley—or rather, he didn’t understand what she was becoming. Victory, instead of freeing her, had locked her away even further from him. She didn’t speak to him. She hadn’t even glanced his way.
The car finally stopped. A heavy, suffocating silence filled the space.
Ashley was the first to move. She pushed the door open and stepped out swiftly, without looking back. The night air struck her, a welcome coolness against her still-flushed skin. But it wasn’t enough.
Brian followed, more slowly. He hesitated for a second before lifting his eyes to her, waiting for a sign, an opening, an invitation to speak.
Nothing. Just a rigid back, straight shoulders, a silhouette that seemed ready to explode.
Evelyn exited last, almost mechanically, as if every movement was calculated, measured. She closed the door behind her, and a shiver ran down her spine as she saw Ashley already standing at the front door, motionless, her fist clenched around the handle.
Evelyn should have walked inside without a word. She should have passed by and disappeared. She shouldn’t have responded.
But Ashley turned her head slightly, just enough to let her icy gaze graze Evelyn.
— Not so perfect after all.
Evelyn’s heart skipped a beat. She felt her jaw tighten, her hand trembling almost imperceptibly. The words had cut through her.
Ashley entered first, her body tense with a simmering anger she refused to voice. Each step on the hardwood floor echoed like a threat inside her. She didn’t want to be there. She wanted to run, to tear off this marked skin, to crush the impossible frustration burning in her gut.
Brian followed, closing the door behind him. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to understand, to piece together the fragments of the woman slipping further away from him.
She just kept walking, her pace quick, her back straight, her arms crossed beneath her chest, oppressed by the thick bra. A prison she had chosen, a barrier against the golden bells she refused to acknowledge.
Brian opened his mouth to say something. A word. Anything. But the sharp, abrupt click of a heel on the floor cut him off.
Evelyn had entered last, closing the door slowly behind her. She, too, was different. Her face remained frozen, but her eyes burned with barely contained fire. She was angry.
Her tense body betrayed a rage she wasn’t yet allowing herself to express. She wanted to speak, to hurl a biting remark, to wipe away that smug smile Ashley had thrown at her outside. But Evelyn forced herself to breathe slowly.
Not now.
She fixed her gaze on Ashley’s back as she ascended the stairs without a word, without the slightest hesitation.
Evelyn could already see it: Ashley in that room with Brian, claiming every second of him, flaunting everything she had—except what she now refused to show.
A bitter smirk twisted Evelyn’s lips.
Brian didn’t hesitate. He followed his wife. He could have stayed with Evelyn, talked to her, tried to understand what she was feeling after the ordeal. But no. Ashley came first.
He climbed the stairs quickly behind her, watching her straight back, her tense shoulders, the sway of her hips beneath the fabric of her dress. She was furious—it was obvious. But she was also… incredibly beautiful.
When they reached the upper floor, Ashley pushed open the door to their bedroom without looking back. She knew he was following.
She entered, letting Brian close the door behind them. He stood still for a moment, searching for the right words, but Ashley gave him no time.
She turned abruptly, and he saw everything she had been holding back since they left the hangar.
Rage. Shame. Pride. But beneath it all, he saw desire.
Ashley had never been modest, and yet, she seemed to want to test him. She crossed her arms, pressing slightly against the thick fabric that constrained her breasts. She held his gaze for a moment, then a smile, barely perceptible, twisted her lips.
A cruel smile. Not for him. For Evelyn.
Brian realized in that moment that Ashley wanted to be seen.
She wanted Evelyn to hear, to know who he truly belonged to. But he wasn’t a trophy.
He approached slowly, searching for words, trying to catch her defiant, fleeting gaze.
— Ashley…
She flinched. A tiny movement. Then she cut him off with an annoyed sigh.
— What?
Her voice was colder than he expected. But he didn’t back down.
— Can you stop pretending?
Ashley raised her eyebrows slightly, frowning.
— Pretending what?
— That it didn’t affect you. That you don’t feel anything.
She let out a dry, joyless laugh.
— Oh, I feel something, Brian.
She took a step toward him, and this time, he felt the electricity between them.
— I feel the shame of being treated like a toy. I feel the rage of knowing she almost had you. And I feel…
She paused, moistening her lips as if the words burned her tongue. Brian took a deep breath, letting a moment of silence settle. Then he reached out and brushed her cheek.
Ashley didn’t move. She didn’t pull away. But he felt a slight tremor, almost imperceptible. She closed her eyes briefly, just for a second.
Then she opened them again, and her gaze had changed. Less anger. More desire.
— Brian…
She whispered his name like a confession, a surrender veiled beneath a final resistance. No matter how furious she was, no matter the revenge she wanted to inflict on Evelyn… she needed him.
Brian didn’t have time to respond.
Ashley lunged at him. Her lips captured his with a raw, almost violent urgency. She wasn’t begging : she was taking.
Her hands slid under his shirt, her feverish fingers grazing his burning skin. Brian felt the contained rage in her grip, the visceral need to prove to herself that she still had control. And him? He let her.
He had no other choice. Ashley pushed him toward the bed, almost roughly. He collapsed onto the mattress, breathless. She loomed over him, her chest rising beneath the fabric.
He could still see the shivers running through her body, the tension in her muscles. Without a word, she descended.
She positioned herself between his legs, her eyes locked on his.
Brian held his breath. He knew what was coming. And he knew she wasn’t going to give him an ounce of control.
Ashley grabbed his belt and yanked it open with a sharp snap. He tensed at the sound of leather hitting the floor.
Then she pulled down his pants, her movements nervous but sure. Brian stiffened.
His erection, painful and throbbing, was already straining against his boxers. Ashley smiled.
As if seeing the effect she had on him was a victory in itself. She slid her fingers under the waistband, slowly lowering it, finally freeing what she desired so much.
Her expression changed. A hungry gleam flickered in her eyes. Brian knew she loved this.
And there, after days of frustration, she was starving for him.
Without waiting, she leaned in. Her tongue flicked the swollen tip, and a shiver ran through Brian’s entire body.
Then she took him inside her mouth. Not slowly. Not gently. She took him as if she wanted to swallow him whole.
A rough moan escaped Brian. His hand buried itself in her blonde hair, but he didn’t try to guide her. She was in charge.
Ashley closed her eyes, savoring the thickness on her tongue, the heat, the texture. She wanted to feel everything, taste everything.
Her cheeks hollowed as she worked with fierce concentration, her movements precise, greedy. She knew exactly what she was doing. She knew every sensitive spot, every perfect rhythm to make him surrender.
She sucked, her lips sealing a burning vacuum around him. Brian gasped. His hips moved reflexively, seeking more.
Ashley didn’t slow down. Her hands pressed him against her, her nails digging slightly into his thighs. She wanted to feel him lose control.
Every spasm, every tremor of Brian beneath her tongue, every frantic beat of his heart against her palm. She could feel the urgency building in him, his muscles tensing under her fingers as he gripped the bed.
She knew what was coming. And she wanted it to be visible.
She intensified her movements, her lips creating a tighter suction, her cheeks hollowed, her tongue working with an expertise that bordered on cruelty. She drained him.
A raw groan. An uncontrollable tremor. And finally… the explosion.
Brian came with an almost unreal force, his body jerking with the intensity of his orgasm.
Ashley didn’t turn away.
She took it all, feeling the hot thickness fill her mouth, spill over her tongue, slide down her lips… but she didn’t swallow everything. No.
She wanted proof. The indelible mark of their union, of her victory.
She let some of it drip, tracing milky streaks down her chin, her throat, marking her skin in the one way she knew would be unbearable for Evelyn. She straightened slowly.
Her lips were still parted, her breath ragged. Her gaze, hazy but intense, locked onto Brian, who was still trembling with post-orgasmic shocks.
She slowly ran two fingers along her chin, gathering the essence of her triumph, before sliding them between her lips, sucking the last traces with deliberate provocation.
She knew exactly what she was going to do next. She stood up, not bothering to wipe away the rest.
Ashley stopped in front of the bedroom mirror.
Her reflection showed a triumphant woman, but… there was something broken in her eyes.
Her skin still glistened with traces of Brian, of their victory, of her possession. She traced a finger along a white streak on her chest, and a shiver electrified her despite herself.
Yet beneath the raw satisfaction, beneath the revenge… an emptiness persisted. She pressed her lips together.
Why do I still feel this weight in my chest? Why can’t I be completely satisfied?
Her gaze drifted lower.
Her slender legs, her perfect silhouette. But her feet… her feet trapped in those thick socks. She felt a flicker in her ankles, a fleeting tingling. Something was missing.
She frowned, irritated by this elusive sensation she couldn’t name.
No. It didn’t matter. She pushed the feeling away, pulled on her robe, and left the room with confident steps.
Evelyn was there, sitting on the couch upright, legs crossed, her dress immaculate and her heels still on, as if she were trying to hide any weakness.
She was startled when Ashley appeared like this.
A heavy silence settled. Ashley approached slowly, the hardwood floor muffled by her socks.
She fixed Evelyn with a gaze for a moment, savoring the expression that crossed her face. Disgust. Hatred. And something else.
Something deeper and painful.
Ashley leaned in slightly, just enough to force Evelyn to look up at her.
— Don’t disturb us.
Her voice was calm, soft, but laced with venom.
Evelyn clenched her fists, and Ashley smiled.
She tilted her head to the side, her hair falling slightly against her stained collarbone.
— You see, Evelyn… I think you were wrong about him.
She traced an imaginary line with her fingernail across her chest, where Brian’s semen had dripped.
— Did you really think your little games would be enough to make him forget what he truly loves?
She took a step back, not waiting for an answer. Evelyn, rigid and trembling, could only press her lips tighter together.
Ashley turned away without a final glance. She climbed the stairs slowly, knowing full well that every second Evelyn saw her marked with Brian’s claim was eating her alive from the inside.
When she closed the door behind her, Brian was still sprawled on the bed. Still breathless, his pupils dilated.
She approached him this time more slowly, more deliberately. Her gaze met his, and something had changed. Less raw rage. Less frustration.
Brian looked at her differently. Ashley knelt on the mattress, dominating him once again.
Then she slid her hands behind her back. One movement, and the robe and bra fell onto the bed.
A chime. Hypnotic.
Ashley shivered instantly. Brian froze.
His gaze immediately dropped to her bare chest, to the golden bells attached to her nipples. He swallowed hard.
Slowly, Ashley brought a hand to one of her breasts, the bells jingling softly.
That sound…
Brian felt an electric shock run down his spine. The same addictive effect.
Ashley watched his reaction. She let the bells move just slightly, savoring the way he was already captive.
— You see, Brian…
Her voice was softer, more sensual.
— There was never any doubt about what truly attracts you.
She moved closer, bringing her chest toward him. The golden bells chimed, crystalline and hypnotic. Brian jerked, his body reacting before his mind could even process it.
Ashley was on the edge. Every movement she made caused the golden bells attached to her breasts to jingle, and each chime sent a wave of burning pleasure from her nipples deep into her core. She gritted her teeth, her eyelids half-closed, her breath already ragged. She wanted to control what she was feeling. She wanted Brian to understand once more. She wanted to show him what she could offer him.
But the anger was still there.
Against Evelyn. Against Alan. Against Brian himself. And most of all... against herself. How had she let it come to this? Marked. Modified. Trapped in her own impulses. But now, none of that mattered. Because she had Brian. And she was going to take everything from him.
She straddled him, her bare breasts hovering just above his chest. The bells chimed again, and an uncontrollable moan escaped her lips. Brian tensed. His gaze was already devouring her chest. She could see it : the obsession, the hypnosis, the absolute want to hear that sound again.
— Is this what you want, huh?
Her voice was hoarse, mocking. Brian didn’t answer, he didn’t need to as his body spoke for him.
— Then watch closely.
She pressed her hypersensitive breasts around him, and the golden bells jingled more violently. Ashley moaned immediately. The contact was incredible. She soaked in Brian’s warmth, his rigidity between her thighs, the obsessive sound of the bells echoing through the room. She began to move slowly.
Brian gasped at the first friction, his fingers clutching the sheets. Ashley clung to him as if her life depended on it. Every movement sent shocks through her body, every jolt of her breasts triggered a sharper chime. Each sound drove her deeper into ecstasy.
Brian moaned, his hands sliding up to her, caressing her hips, her back, until they grabbed her breasts.
— Nghh… Brian…
Her voice was higher, trembling under the sensations. He squeezed gently, then harder. Ashley growled, surprised by the mix of pleasure and pain. She grabbed his wrists, forcing him to press harder.
— Squeeze them tight, she panted. Make me feel it.
The bells went wild. Brian gasped louder, feeling the pressure build, the heat of Ashley’s skin enveloping him.
— Fuck, Ashley, I’m gonna
She sped up immediately. She wanted everything. Every drop. Every spasm. She wanted to force him to mark her again.
— Come, she ordered, her voice dark with desire.
She felt him tense beneath her. Then he exploded. A deep groan. A warm, violent wave that left milky splashes on her bare skin. Her stomach. Her chest. Her bells. A heavier, stickier chime.
Ashley closed her eyes, shivering under the familiar sensation, the musky scent, the proof that she had won. A satisfied smile stretched her lips. She ran a finger over her damp chest, watching with fascination.
— Look at me, Brian.
She lifted her soiled fingers, tracing a circle around one of her trembling nipples. The bells chimed. A devastating wave of pleasure. She moaned louder than she intended. Then she leaned forward, pressing herself against him, her body glued to his, hot, marked.
— We have all night, she whispered, her mouth brushing his ear.
She knew she wouldn’t sleep. She knew Brian wouldn’t either. But most of all… She knew Evelyn heard everything. And that was even more intoxicating.
Ashley had no restraint left. Pleasure, anger, frustration, everything swirled into an uncontrollable hurricane. She leaned over Brian, her breath short, her golden bells chiming softly with every movement.
— Did you think it was over?
Her voice was scorching, mocking. Brian, still panting, didn’t even have time to answer. Ashley repositioned herself immediately, her thighs gripping his hips, her nails digging into his skin. She wanted to feel him inside her. She wanted to prove she was in control. She wanted to make Evelyn scream with rage behind that closed door.
Brian was already ready. His hand instinctively slid up her thigh, caressed her hip, moved up to her stomach, slick with his release. Ashley shivered, her body tense between pleasure and rage. Then, Brian’s hand slid lower. Toward her legs. Toward her feet.
First, he brushed her bare ankle. A light touch, barely a caress, but it sent an uncontrollable shiver through her body. Then… he moved lower. Ashley felt her throat tighten, an instinctive alarm exploding in her mind.
— No.
His thumb pressed gently on the sole of her foot, through the thickness of the fabric. Her breath caught.
— No.
The memory hit her like a slap. The spa. The treatment. Her feet transformed. The horror of their new sensitivity. The dread that they would react to the slightest stimulation. The unbearable thought that Brian might discover what they had become. Worse… The cum. If, by some misfortune, it trickled down there, if even a drop touched her skin… She didn’t know what would happen. She didn’t want to know.
A flash of pure terror shot through her, followed immediately by violent disgust. She grabbed Brian’s wrist and squeezed. Hard.
— Don’t touch.
Her voice was sharp as a blade. Brian blinked, still lost in pleasure, still lulled by the tenderness of the previous minutes. He didn’t understand.
— Ashley…?
She tightened her grip, violently pushing his hand away.
— I said NO.
The snap in her voice shattered the sensual bubble they had been trapped in for hours. Brian sat up slightly, sensing the crushing tension radiating from her. His gaze drifted over her tense face, her pressed lips, her shoulders hunched as if she were holding back something enormous, something too heavy. His eyes fell to her legs. To her feet, still trapped in those thick socks.
A detail that, until now, he had overlooked. He wanted to speak, to ask what was wrong. But Ashley moved before he could. Her hips rolled violently, with sudden brutality, a desperate need to divert his attention, to stop him from asking questions.
Brian let out a groan, his fingers digging into her hips, struggling to keep up with the relentless pace she set.
— Focus on me.
Her voice was almost a command, her breath ragged, her movements frantic.
Not on this. Not on what I’ve become. Not on what those bastards changed in me.
She dug her nails into his chest, trying to externalize the brutal anxiety gnawing at her insides. Brian, swept up in the intensity, didn’t insist. His breathing became erratic, his hands gripped her hips, and everything tipped back into raw pleasure.
Brian was hers. She could feel him beneath her, inside her, against her, everywhere. Her skin stuck to his, hot, damp, trembling with the intensity of the moment. She had never felt this way. Or rather… never like this.
The orgasms came one after another, shattering any sense of time. The first left her breathless, trembling, her body struck by pleasure so deep she lost her breath. The second was even more violent, deeper, more uncontrollable. The third destroyed her.
She was nothing but a burning body, a torrent of lust. Her chest heaved, her bells chiming relentlessly, an obsessive, delirious rhythm that imprinted on their skin like a wild heartbeat.
— Again, she panted, without thinking, without restraint.
— Ashley…
Brian could barely speak, his breath ragged, his body exhausted but still ready, still starving for her because of all the hypnosis he went through. And she clung to him. She tightened her thighs around him, rolled her hips, forced him to continue, forced him to stay inside her, to fill her again and again.
She wanted to feel him explode inside her, over and over, until he had nothing left to give, until every drop was hers, until Evelyn was suffocated by the undeniable proof of her triumph.
Each hot jet triggered a wave of burning pleasure that made her scream, made her tremble, tore uncontrollable moans from her.
— Fill me, she ordered, her breath choppy, her eyes shining with pure obsession. Fill me again, Brian.
And he obeyed. Because it was her. Because it was Ashley. Because he had never desired anyone else like this. Because there was no other woman, no other body, no other sound, no other scent that could enchant him so.
He came again. And so did she.
Their cries echoed through the room, surged down the hallway, pierced the walls like an indelible declaration of victory.
Evelyn, powerless, was on the verge of implosion. She had stayed in her room as long as she could, gripping the sheets, her fists trembling, her jaw clenched. But she heard everything. Ashley’s ragged moans, Brian’s muffled groans, the ceaseless chiming of those damned golden bells, all these sound mushing into a humiliating concert, a symphony of victory in which Ashley was the absolute star.
Evelyn tried to ignore it, to forget. But the images forced their way into her mind. She saw Ashley, covered in him, proud, triumphant. She could still hear the way Brian panted her name, the way he surrendered to her. And it drove her crazy. Because, despite everything she wanted to believe…
She wanted to be in her place.
She gritted her teeth, her body trembling with a mix of burning hatred and unspoken desire.
— Fuck…
She couldn’t stay there. She jumped up, grabbed her silk robe, and rushed out of her room toward the kitchen.
She opened the fridge with a trembling hand, took out a bottle of ice-cold water, and immediately brought it to her lips. The air was thick, saturated with invisible tensions. She took long gulps, her eyes fixed on nothing, trying to calm her racing heart.
Evelyn sensed Ashley’s presence before she even saw her. The chiming. That fucking chiming.
She slowly raised her eyes, and what she saw took her breath away.
Ashley. Her robe open, her chest marked, glistening with the remnants of Brian. She wasn’t hiding. She wanted her to see. She demanded she bear witness.
Evelyn felt a rush of heat rise to her face. Her hand tightened around the water bottle. For a moment, she felt nothing. Just a cold emptiness.
Then… The storm. The rage. The humiliation. The furious desire to tear that smug smile off her face. Her fingers trembled slightly. Her breath quickened.
— You should drink more slowly, Evelyn. You look… tense.
Ashley savored every word. Evelyn tightened her grip on the bottle. Her nails dug into the plastic.
She wanted to retort, to spit in her face, to slap her, to make her swallow her arrogance. But she knew that was exactly what Ashley wanted. And that was the worst part. It wasn’t just the pain of losing. It was the sick pleasure she felt seeing all this.
The scent of sex in the air. The cum still glistening on Ashley’s skin. The thought that it could be her.
— Fuck you, Ashley.
That was all she could manage to say.
Ashley laughed. A real laugh. She turned away, leaning against the counter, the glass still in her hand.
— Oh Evelyn, she sighed. It’s already done. Again. And again. And again.
She let her hand brush against her chest, tracing a sticky line on her skin. The wet, glistening sound made Evelyn flinch. Ashley smiled wider.
— Want me to tell you what he really likes, Brian?
She leaned in slightly, her robe slipping a little more.
— Not what you think.
Then, without waiting for an answer, she straightened up and walked away. The little bells jingled one last time as she left the kitchen. And Evelyn stood there. Fists clenched. Chest heaving with rapid breaths. Her glass trembled in her hand. All she wanted was to destroy that bitch.
Ashley climbed the stairs slowly, deliberately. She wanted Evelyn to hear her leave, to hear every jingle, to soak in her victory. Her body was still vibrating, still warm from everything she had done to Brian… from everything he had given her. She ran a hand over her stomach, finding traces of him, then brought it back to her chest, where her golden bells were just waiting to chime again. But not here.
The hallway was empty. The shadows from the dim lamps stretched the curves of her body, highlighting the glow of her skin, the moisture still visible on her chest and between her thighs. She reached the bedroom door and opened it without hesitation. Brian was still lying on the bed, shirtless, hair tousled, staring blankly at the ceiling. He turned his head the moment he heard her enter. His breath caught. Ashley was a vision. Her golden skin shimmered, marked by every drop of him, her hair disheveled, her eyes gleaming with triumph and unquenched lust. The robe slipped carelessly from her shoulders, revealing everything except her feet, still hidden in her socks.
— Hope you’re not done yet, she murmured, closing the door behind her. Her voice was hoarse, laced with a desire that hadn’t faded.
— Ashley, you…
But she did not give him enough time to speak.
Brian watched Ashley, still lying beside him. She was there, naked, beautiful, still breathless. The traces of their pleasure clung to her skin, her chest rising gently with her uneven breathing. Yet, he could tell she was somewhere else.
He reached out, lightly brushing her arm. Just a caress, a touch, to let her know he was there. She didn’t react. Nothing : no sigh, no glance no embrace in return. This wasn’t normal. He tried again, sliding his fingers into her hair, tracing a tender line along her cheek.
— Ashley… he whispered, hoping she’d respond.
But she remained frozen. She didn’t want to be there. Not with him. Not now. When she finally moved, it was to pull away from the bed, grab her robe, and walk off.
— I’m going to the bathroom.
The door closed softly behind her. Brian stayed there, alone, naked, the sheets still warm from her body. He placed a hand on his face, the other on his chest, trying to calm the knot in his stomach. He had won Ashley… but he was losing her.
And in the next room, Evelyn heard the bells stop. She could barely believe her ears. Her eyelids, heavy and burning with rage, closed.
Finally. The cursed jingling had ceased.
The morning was heavy, numbed by the remnants of a night too intense, too violent to be simply forgotten. Brian opened his eyes slowly, as if his body refused to leave its stupor, trapped by the sensations imprinted on his skin. The room was bathed in pale light, softened by the barely parted curtains, casting long, silent shadows over the rumpled sheets. The scent of sex still lingered in the air, overwhelming, proof of what had happened within these walls.
Beside him, Ashley slept, or at least, she pretended to. Her bare back was turned to him, her silhouette outlined by the folds of the sheet that had slipped halfway down her hips. Her breathing was steady, controlled, too smooth to be real sleep.
Brian knew she was awake. He could sense the imperceptible tension in the stiffness of her muscles, the slight clenching of her fingers around the fabric.
He watched her for a moment, trying to guess what was going on behind those closed eyelids. Regret? Shame? Anger, still?
The night before, she had possessed him with an almost terrifying intensity, an animalistic need to mark her territory, to crush Evelyn under the weight of her triumph. But now, none of that fury remained. Only silence, and that invisible distance that had slipped between them, cold and sharp like a dull blade.
Brian reached out, hesitating, then pulled his hand back. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to feel her against him, to reclaim even a fragment of the woman he loved, the one who laughed with him, who looked at him with that mix of passion and tenderness. But he already knew that if his fingers brushed her skin, she would only withdraw further. She wasn’t ready. Maybe she never would be.
He sighed, shifting slightly, his head heavy. His own body still bore the marks of their union: light scratches on his chest, the residual warmth of her skin marked by the invisible traces of her lips. Yet, despite the intensity, despite the physical evidence of what they had shared, he felt strangely empty. As if, instead of bringing them closer, the night had driven them even further apart.
Ashley finally moved. A shiver ran down her neck as she pulled the sheet a little higher over her shoulder, a simple gesture loaded with meaning. She didn’t want him to see her. Not now. Brian felt a pang in his chest, a bitter taste burning his throat.
— You’re awake.
It wasn’t a question. It was a truth they both knew. But she didn’t answer right away. She let the silence stretch, heavy and uncomfortable, before murmuring, without even turning her head:
— Yes.
One word. Cold and detached. Brian briefly closed his eyes.
— Do you want to talk?
This time, she didn’t answer. A beat of silence. Then a sigh, almost exasperated. She sat up slightly, just enough to perch on the edge of the bed, her back to him. Her blonde hair cascaded down her spine, her bare skin shivering slightly in the morning air.
— I’m going to take a shower.
She stood before he could say anything, carelessly grabbing her robe from the chair. The golden bells, hanging from her nipples, jingled softly as she moved, a sound barely audible but enough to send an involuntary shiver through Brian. He had almost forgotten them. But they were there. A constant reminder, a symbol of what she had become, of what had been done to her.
She wrapped her robe tightly around herself, as if trying to erase every trace of the previous night. Then, without a glance, she crossed the room and disappeared behind the bathroom door. The sound of water rose a few seconds later, muffled by the walls.
Brian ran a hand over his face, then through his tousled hair. He sank into the mattress for a moment, staring at the ceiling. For a moment, he had thought they might find something. A hint of connection. But he had been wrong. Ashley was still beside him. But she was far away.
Ashley emerged from the bathroom wrapped in her robe, her skin still warm from the scalding water she had let run over her longer than necessary. The moisture made her shoulders glisten, a few drops sliding down her collarbone before disappearing under the fabric. Her blonde hair, barely dried, fell down her back in heavy strands, tracing cold lines against her skin.
Brian was still lying on the bed, the sheets tangled around him, one leg bent, a hand resting on his chest. He turned his head as he heard her approach, his gaze sliding over her with an expectation she chose to ignore. He wanted her to talk. He wanted an explanation. But she had nothing to say to him.
She walked slowly toward the bed, her steps measured, as if weighing each movement. She stopped just in front of him, her fingers absently playing with the belt of her robe. Silence settled, broken only by the faint jingle of her bells beneath the fabric. She could feel them. She still felt them.
Brian didn’t move. He waited. He knew her too well to rush her.
Ashley finally let out a long sigh, lowering her eyes slightly. Then, without warning, she undid the belt and let her robe slip from her shoulders. The fabric fell in a soft rustle, revealing her naked body. Her flat stomach, her delicate hips, her perfect, slender legs… and above all, her bare chest, marked by the golden piercings from which the infamous bells hung.
Brian held his breath. She was magnificent. Too magnificent. A masterpiece sculpted by foreign hands, elevated to an unreal perfection. But it wasn’t her beauty that struck him the most. It was the absence. There was no expression. No burning gaze, no provocation, no challenge. None of the fire she usually had when she gave herself to him. Just a silent offering, a passionless surrender.
Ashley climbed onto the bed, straddling him without a word, without a kiss. Her fingers slid over his chest, slowly, then down to his stomach. She felt Brian’s muscles tense under her touch, felt his breath become uneven. He desired her. As always. But she didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to think.
She leaned toward him, and her bells jingled softly as they brushed against his chest. Brian shivered instantly. His gaze locked onto them, as always, hypnotized by their mere presence. His stomach tightened, an involuntary shiver running through his shoulders.
Brian felt the shift. This wasn’t the raw rage of the night before. Not that thirst for absolute domination that had driven her to pin him to the mattress and possess him until exhaustion. No… This was more subtle. More insidious.
Ashley slowly lowered her eyes to him. Her gaze slid over his chest, his throat, then lower. She knew he was still marked by her. That his body still bore the traces of their passion. The thought should have satisfied her. But it wasn’t enough.
She moved slowly, settling onto him, straddling him without haste. Her hips grazed his, and Brian stiffened at the contact. She didn’t even need to touch him more than that. His body was already responding. But it wasn’t the same.
He felt it immediately. Ashley wasn’t tender, but she wasn’t aggressive either. She was giving herself to him, yes. But it was mechanical. A silent offering.
Her hands slid over his chest, following lines she already knew by heart, but without the usual fervor. Brian, in turn, raised his hands, brushing her waist, trying to anchor her, to bring her back. She didn’t push him away. But she didn’t respond, either. She was there, and yet absent.
Then she leaned in, pressing her chest gently against his, and Brian shivered violently. The sound of the bells echoed through him, a perfect, haunting note. His lower abdomen contracted instantly, and his breath caught.
Ashley felt his reaction and managed a smile, but it was hollow. She was playing with him. With herself. She knew what that sound did to Brian. She knew he was incapable of ignoring it, incapable of not reacting to the melody it created. But what she refused to admit was that it affected her, too. Every vibration ran beneath her skin, an invisible current igniting something instinctive, uncontrollable.
She closed her eyes for a second, gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to give in. She just wanted… to prove to herself that she still controlled the situation. But when Brian raised his hand and lightly brushed one of her pierced nipples, she arched immediately.
— Ahh…!
The sound escaped her before she could stop it. An uncontrollable tremor ran through her. Her stomach clenched, and a wave of pleasure instantly crashed over her. Brian froze. Ashley did, too.
She had come. Too fast. Too hard. She wasn’t ready for this.
She took a deep breath, struggling to regain control. But Brian didn’t let her escape. His hands slowly moved up, grazing her chest again, and another shudder made her tremble against him. The bells jingled with every shiver, every movement, amplifying her loss of control.
— Brian… she gasped, her voice rough, almost broken.
He gently rolled her onto her back. She let him. She didn’t have the strength to resist. His lips descended slowly onto her chest, capturing one of her piercings between his teeth. — Nngh…!
The sound was sharper this time. Rawer. She gripped the sheets, her back arching violently under the sensation. An uncontrollable heat exploded between her thighs. Brian felt it. Perceived it in every tension of her body, in every tremor.
But this wasn’t a victory. It was proof of her dependence. Ashley, the strong woman, the proud woman, was losing herself in her own trap. And he was just a helpless witness.
She trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by waves of pleasure that gave her no respite. But even at the height of her ecstasy, she felt that emptiness. That creeping shadow whispering in her ear.
You have Brian. But does he really have you?
She suddenly sat up, pushing Brian away with a sudden brutality. Her breath was short, her chest heaving, and the bells were still chiming, betraying her state. She ran a trembling hand over her face, closed her eyes for a second. Brian remained lying beside her, his breath slow and controlled, trying to process what had just happened. Ashley lay on her back, eyes fixed on the ceiling, her expression unreadable. Her chest, marked by the invisible traces of pleasure, rose gently, each movement triggering a soft sound that seemed to resonate with a strange echo in the thick air of the room.
Brian turned his head slightly toward her. He wanted to touch her, slide an arm around her waist, anchor their bodies together in a semblance of tenderness… but he already knew she would pull away, shut herself off even more if he tried to bridge the gap between them. So he stayed still, searching for another approach.
— Do you want to talk?
His voice was soft, without reproach, a simple invitation. Ashley blinked slowly, as if returning to reality after a long drift. She turned her head slightly toward him, her gaze sliding over his face, but she didn’t answer immediately. Brian waited. One second. Two. Then, with a light sigh, she looked away, fixing her gaze on an invisible point on the ceiling.
— I’m tired.
It was an excuse. A dodge too obvious for him to ignore. But he didn’t press her. He was tired of pressing and let the silence stretch between them, watching the way her fingers absently brushed the sheet in a nervous tic she couldn’t control. A tension hummed beneath her skin, invisible to a stranger’s eye, but not to his. She was still locked inside something he didn’t fully understand.
— Ashley…
She closed her eyes for a second. Just one.
Then, slowly, she rolled onto her side, presenting him again with her bare back. A simple gesture, but it resonated like an invisible wall between them. Brian felt his stomach clench painfully.
He would have preferred her to scream at him, to hit him, to explode at least once, to put into words everything that was eating her alive. But no. She chose silence and distance.
He could have insisted. He could have forced her to speak, to say something, anything. But he already knew how it would end. She would retreat further into her muteness, shut down completely, and he would lose the only thing he had left: her physical presence beside him.
So he gave up. He slid an arm under his head, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts a silent chaos.
Ashley hadn’t moved. Her breathing was still steady, too calm to be natural.
Time stretched. They lay there, side by side, separated by a void neither knew how to fill.
Evelyn sat in the living room armchair, perfectly upright, one leg elegantly crossed over the other. Her slender fingers gripped the edge of a book she wasn’t reading, her eyes fixed on the pages without absorbing a single word. Her glass of wine, untouched, rested on the coffee table in front of her, the dark liquid reflecting the dim light of the room. Everything about her exuded a feigned calm, a rigid control, but inside, a silent fire consumed every part of her being.
She refused to listen again.
Refused to imagine what was happening behind that closed door upstairs. She didn’t need to hear a single sound to know what Ashley and Brian were doing, again, always.
The image was burned into her, searing, indelible. Ashley, naked, covered in him, her body trembling with pleasure, her face marked with cruel triumph. Evelyn saw that mocking smile, those pointed looks, the way Ashley had stood in front of her, still slick with Brian’s essence, flaunting her victory like a trophy.
Her jaw tightened.
Her right foot shifted slightly, and the subtle movement made the leather of her high heel creak. Evelyn froze, her heart skipping a beat. Her gaze slowly slid down to her crossed legs, to the smooth curve of her ankle, and lower still. Her shoes were still there, flawless, untouched. Not once, since the day before, had she dared to take them off.
The bells.
They were still there, wrapped around her toes, hidden beneath the leather, silent, trapped. Waiting. Watching her like a silent snare. If she removed her heels… they would reclaim her. They would start chiming again, and she would hear that sound. The sound that had betrayed her. Humiliated her. The sound that had once again confirmed to everyone, especially Ashley, her breaking point.
Her grip on the book tightened. She wouldn’t listen to them. Not today. Not yet.
She took a deep breath, pushing back the creeping anxiety, replacing it with something more tangible. More useful. Hatred.
She forced herself to relive the scene. To feel the humiliation in her very flesh. Ashley, dominating her, crushing her, taking Brian right in front of her without even giving her a chance. It wasn’t just a defeat. It was a public execution. And Evelyn wouldn’t accept it. When Alan arrived, she would ask for a new game.
A game where she could reverse the roles. A game where Ashley wouldn’t just humiliate her and walk away triumphant, marked with Brian’s cum like a victorious *****. No. This time, she would be in control.
Slowly, she turned a page of the book, the words still blurry before her eyes. No matter the trial. No matter what she would have to do. Alan would grant her what she wanted. He owed her that. And this time, Evelyn wouldn’t play nice.
The sound of the front door closing echoed softly, but in the silence of the house, it resonated like a gunshot. Ashley and Brian had come downstairs a few minutes earlier, their bodies still marked by the morning’s tension, their minds locked in heavy silence. Evelyn, meanwhile, was already in the living room, upright, impassive, her heels still firmly on her feet.
Alan entered unhurriedly, his calm smile barely masking the natural authority that radiated from him. His gaze swept the room, lingering on each of them, analyzing the remnants of their conflicts, their emotional exhaustion, their growing fragility. He didn’t need to ask questions. He already knew.
Evelyn, however, didn’t give him time to savor the moment.
—I want a new trial.
Her voice was sharp, controlled, without the slightest hesitation. She didn’t wait for a reaction, didn’t even glance at Ashley or Brian. It was a statement, not a request.
Alan raised an eyebrow, amused by her barely contained impatience. He took a step into the room, his movements slow and deliberate, then let the silence stretch, enjoying the tension that had just arisen. He studied her for a moment, noting the tension in her fingers on the fabric of her skirt, the stiffness of her shoulders, the shadow of an imperceptible shiver along her nape.
He knew what she wanted.
And he had no reason to refuse her.
—Tomorrow morning, then.
His answer fell like a guillotine, simple, final. There was nothing else to say.
Evelyn inhaled slowly, her eyes lighting up with cold satisfaction. She nodded, straightening a little more in her seat. It was all she had been waiting for.
Ashley, on the other side of the room, didn’t move. But beneath her apparent calm, she already felt something simmering inside her. A dull irritation. An insidious tension coiling around her nerves like an invisible vise.
She knew Evelyn wouldn’t let go. She knew it was only a matter of time before she tried to wedge herself between her and Brian again. She wouldn’t allow it.
Alan finally turned his attention away from Evelyn and faced Brian.
—If I’m not mistaken, we have penalties to apply from yesterday. Come with me, Brian. You’re first.
It wasn’t an invitation. Brian hesitated only briefly. He could have refused, could have protested, but already, the sound was ringing.
The bells. Soft, hypnotic, insidious.
Alan made them chime with his fingertips, creating a slow, mesmerizing rhythm, an almost imperceptible echo vibrating in the air. Brian stiffened instantly, his pupils dilating slightly, his breath catching for a brief moment. A shiver slid down his spine, like a wave of static electricity clinging to every fiber of his being. He stopped thinking. He followed.
Without a word, without a question, he fell into step behind Alan, crossing the living room with a slightly slowed gait, as if floating between two states of consciousness.
Ashley, meanwhile, didn’t look away. She watched him leave, her heart beating a little faster, her jaw clenched in frustration she refused to voice.
Alan was going to play with him again. He was going to plant something in his mind.
She knew it. But there was nothing she could do.
The sound of the bells faded down the hallway, vanished as the door closed softly behind them.
And in the silence left behind, Ashley realized she had already lost something.
Brian’s mind drifted between shadow and light, between reality and something more elusive, more intangible.
The sound of the bells echoed in his head, looping, a melody imprinting itself deep within him. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, eyes half-closed, breathing slow and controlled. Alan was speaking.
And his voice slid into him like velvet.
—The forbidden… becomes a nagging temptation.
Brian shivered.
Alan leaned in slightly, his voice soft but relentless.
—You can resist, of course. You’re strong. But the more you deny something… the deeper it embeds itself in you.
Brian inhaled, his breath trembling.
—Every second you ignore something, every second you push it away… it grows stronger.
Images flashed through his mind.
Evelyn.
Her piercing gaze. Her crossed legs, the black heels hiding the silver bells. What he knew she wanted. What he knew he shouldn’t touch.
Ashley.
Her body against his, her skin still marked by him, her perfect breasts… but more than that… her feet. Hidden under thick socks, locked away, protected. Forbidden.
His heart raced, and Alan smiled.
—The more it’s forbidden… the harder it is to forget, isn’t it?
Brian clenched his fists, but the seed was planted. He wouldn’t fight it. Not yet.
Not now. But tomorrow… Evelyn would be there. And every second spent ignoring her would only make the tension grow, the creeping need, the slow poison already seeping into his mind. A prohibition only exists because we give it value.
The sound of the bells faded as Brian left the room, his mind still hazy, his body floating in a state of subtle confusion. He didn’t know exactly what Alan had said to him. But something lingered, a vague sensation, a persistent impression that refused to fade.
Evelyn, meanwhile, hadn’t moved. She sat upright, head high, her gaze fixed on Alan, unyielding. She wasn’t afraid. Not anymore.
Alan watched her for a moment, savoring the cold determination he saw in her features. Evelyn wasn’t like Ashley. She had never run. She had never sunk into denial or refusal. Even when she lost, she analyzed, she learned, she rebuilt. And today… she was ready to take back control.
He extended his hand slightly toward her.
—Come, Evelyn. It’s your turn.
Evelyn hesitated for a fraction of a second, then stepped forward without a word.
She sat across from him, her legs crossed with calculated elegance. Her black heels gleamed in the dim light, their smooth curves contrasting with the hardness of her gaze.
He studied her for a moment, appreciating the silent battle raging within her. Then, he raised his hand and gently chimed one of the bells he held.
A clear note that froze Evelyn.
Her breath caught for a brief moment, her gaze flickered almost imperceptibly. It was a subtle reaction, nearly invisible to the untrained eye. But Alan saw it immediately.
—Listen.
The word fell softly, a caress on her mind.
The bells chimed again, slow, hypnotic. Evelyn felt a warm, diffuse wave spread through her, seeping into her thoughts like an invisible current.
—They are not your enemy, Evelyn.
An imperceptible shiver ran over her skin.
—They don’t control you…
Her breathing slowed, her eyelids grew heavier.
—…you control them.
Her body relaxed against her will, as if an invisible weight were slowly lifting.
—They don’t betray you…
The chiming continued, blending with the rhythm of her own breath.
—They belong to you.
Something shifted inside her.
Until now, the bells had been a constraint. A humiliation. A curse imposed by Alan, a constant reminder of what he had done to her, of how he had transformed her.
But under Alan’s voice, under the hypnotic song of the metal, a new idea took root in her.
They didn’t define her.
They weren’t a burden. They were a weapon. A signature.
Alan leaned slightly toward her, his voice becoming an almost intimate whisper.
—Every chime…
A shiver ran up her spine.
—…is a vibration that resonates with him.
The image imprinted itself in her mind before she could push it away.
Brian.
His gaze wavering at every sound. His body trembling under the echo of the bells. His breath suspended with each vibration. Alan saw her expression change. He saw the shadow of rejection slowly fade, replaced by something deeper, more calculated.
The bells chimed one last time, sharper. Evelyn shivered, sharply. Alan straightened, already turning toward the door, and with a simple gesture, invited her to leave. Evelyn blinked slowly, as if emerging from a dream she couldn’t remember. She stood without a word, smooth, perfect, as if nothing had happened. She crossed the room with measured steps, her gaze straight ahead, the bells still trapped beneath her heels, silent. Yet, Alan knew she would now make better use of them.
Behind him, he heard a hesitant breath. Ashley was there, leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed under her robe, her eyes fixed on Evelyn with a silent, almost animal tension. Evelyn didn’t look at her. She passed by without a word, without a shiver. Just a cold silence, and a slight brush of shoulders that was no accident.
Ashley didn’t move until Alan invited her to sit, and she obeyed.
He circled the chair slowly, as if he weren’t really looking at her, and yet… he saw her entirely. Her. The tension in her neck. The way her legs stayed closed, rigid, as if trying to lock something inside.
Then, he raised his hand.
And in the quiet air of the room, a bell chimed. A soft, steady sound. Neither high nor low. Just… pure.
Ashley closed her eyes for a fraction of a second. She didn’t know why. A reflex. A tension in her stomach. Her breathing grew slightly heavier.
Alan spoke. His voice was calm. Smooth. But beneath the velvet, there were invisible hooks.
—Pleasure is a strange thing, Ashley.
A pause. Then:
—It makes us feel alive. It gives us strength. But it also distracts. It lures. It gnaws.
Ashley didn’t react. But her breath slowed.
—When you’re focused… you’re strong. No one dominates you. You stay on course. But the more aroused you are… the more you feel your body become light. Warm. And the more you feel… the more your mind scatters.
He circled her slowly, a single, regular chime resonating at slow, hypnotic intervals.
—You want to resist. That’s normal. That’s you. But when your body heats up… when your stomach tightens… you lose pieces of yourself. You forget a word, a detail, a reflex. And the more it builds… the more you doubt.
Ashley, motionless, had slightly parted her lips. Her breathing now came through her mouth, subtle but deeper.
—At some point, you no longer know if you want to win… or come. And you still think you can do both.
Alan crouched behind her. His voice brushed her nape.
—But you won’t be able to.
The chiming resumed, a little closer, a little more prolonged.
—The more your pleasure rises… the more holding back becomes a struggle. And part of you starts to wonder… why struggle at all?
Ashley shuddered. A spasm in her throat. Her fingers, previously resting obediently on her knees, clenched for a fleeting moment.
Alan straightened up, his gaze fixed on her like she was a machine being programmed. He stepped back. The faint chiming stopped.
— Open your eyes.
Ashley blinked slowly. Her gaze was clear, almost irritated. She sat up straight, as if nothing had happened.
— Is it done? she asked, her voice sharp.
Alan nodded.
— You can go.
She left the room. Ashley closed the door gently behind her.
The air in the hallway felt colder than when she had entered. Her steps, though slow, echoed in her own ears as if they belonged to someone else. She moved mechanically, her thoughts still numbed by Alan’s whispers. Something lingered inside her. A dull lethargy. A strange warmth that still pulsed, despite the returned silence.
As she climbed the first stair, she heard a voice.
— I don’t know… I tried talking to her this morning, but…
Brian’s voice.
Ashley froze. She leaned slightly forward, barely at all. The living room came into view through the railing. Evelyn sat on the couch, legs crossed, upright and elegant, as always. Brian stood in front of her, arms crossed, his expression visibly lost.
— ...she shuts down. Like she wants me to guess what she’s thinking, but never says it.
Evelyn listened in silence. No words. Just perfect attention. Head slightly tilted, her gaze soft, neutral. Active listening. Reassuring. Ashley felt a familiar tension creep up her spine.
— And have you asked her why she acts like that? Evelyn murmured, her voice deceptively neutral, slightly deep.
— She dodges it, Brian replied. She changes the subject, or she walks away. Like talking about us… exhausts her.
A brief silence. The kind that comes before confessions. Ashley gripped the railing, half-hidden by the angle of the staircase.
— She’s been through a lot, you know, Evelyn added. This house, Alan, the trials. She probably just wants to… hold on. Not break down in front of you.
Brian sighed softly. He seemed weary. Hesitant.
— I want to help her, Evelyn. But I don’t know how without making things worse. Every time I get close, she shuts down a little more.
Ashley felt her throat tighten slightly.
— Maybe she’s protecting herself. Or maybe she feels like she has to fight alone.
Evelyn’s voice was smooth. Measured. No unnecessary words. No blame toward Ashley. Just suggestions. Hypotheses. Neutral ground… on the surface.
— And you, Brian… how do you feel? Not as “Ashley’s husband” but… you.
Silence.
Ashley, motionless, felt the wood of the railing press into her palms.
— I’m lost, Brian admitted after a moment. Really. I wake up every morning with this knot in my stomach… I tell myself I’m going to mess up again. That I’m going to lose her for good.
His voice was hoarse. Tired.
— She loves you, Evelyn whispered. I know she does.
— But if she loves me… why do I feel so far away from her?
There was no anger in his voice. Just a profound sadness.
Ashley blinked slowly. Her fingers remained clenched. But she didn’t go up. Not yet. Not right away.
Evelyn slowly placed a hand on the couch, palm up. A silent offering. Nothing out of place. Nothing exaggerated. Just… presence.
— You can sit down if you want. You don’t have to carry everything alone.
Brian hesitated. Then, slowly, he sat on the edge of the couch. Far from her. But there.
Ashley could only see their silhouettes in the sudden stillness of the living room and in that stillness, something was forming.
Evelyn wasn’t openly seducing him, no. She was doing better. She was filling the role Brian needed, the one Ashley herself no longer filled.
Ashley slowly looked away. She didn’t know what she was feeling yet. It wasn’t anger. Not yet. More like a thick fog, a rustle of vertigo in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t heard anything overtly betraying. But what she had just seen was worse.
Ashley closed her bedroom door without even realizing it. The soft click of the latch seemed muffled, distant. As if something essential had just cracked in the world.
She stood there, back against the door, breath shallow. Her fingers slid down to her clavicle, absentmindedly brushing her skin, still warm from the hypnosis. But it wasn’t that warmth she felt anymore.
What she had seen downstairs, what she had heard…
Evelyn, gentle, attentive, composed. And Brian, not smiling, not conquered. Just… fragile. Hesitant. Like a man being offered a hand he didn’t know how to refuse.
Her legs trembled slightly, but she took a few steps toward the bed and sat down slowly. The mattress dipped beneath her like a tide she didn’t have the strength to push back. She stared blankly ahead, not really seeing.
Why am I doing this?
Her thoughts weren’t orderly. They came like confused waves. Why do I push him away? Why do I lock myself in this icy armor when all I have to do is reach out?
Brian hadn’t said or done anything wrong. And Evelyn… Evelyn had just filled the void she had left, willingly or not.
He’s mine.
The word rose within her like an ancient rage. But it rang hollow. Possessing Brian… that wasn’t what she wanted.
She didn’t want to possess him. She wanted to find him again.
She wanted to see him smile at her. She wanted him to touch her without her flinching. To listen to her without fear of stepping on a minefield. She wanted to be his Ashley again. The one he sought with his eyes, not the one he fled from.
But every time she tried, she pulled back. Every gesture, she built a wall. And now… Evelyn was filling the space.
Ashley leaned forward, elbows on her knees, hands clasped between her legs. She didn’t know if she wanted to cry or scream.
What am I doing?
The image of Evelyn, sitting, legs crossed, placing that open hand on the couch… burned inside her. Because she, Ashley, was no longer capable of that.
Not in this state. Not with what had been done to her. Not with this fear and this rage lurking deep in her gut, the one she refused to even name.
And yet… if she wanted to keep Brian, she had no choice. She had to reach out to him again, show him affection, love.
An involuntary movement of her leg pulled her from her thoughts. She crossed her legs, wagged her foot, then set it down gently. And there, something clenched inside her.
She looked down slowly. The thick white lab socks, untouchable. A shiver ran down her neck, and a memory surfaced.
The day before, while he held her. While he took her. Her body still trembled, his arms around her hips, his damp skin pressed against hers.
And then, that gesture. The caress on her ankle. His hand brushing her foot. A simple, spontaneous gesture, like a need for extra contact.. And she… She had reacted violently, in panic, without thinking. Brian had frozen. He had looked at her. A little surprised. A little hurt.
Even through the thickness of the socks, she had felt the intention. The contact, the tenderness. She had understood what he wanted: all of her. Not just her body. Not just sex. But her gestures. Her extremities. Her feet.
She had always refused to let him touch them, and it was precisely what she could no longer offer him, even though Evelyn didn’t hesitate to use her own assets.
She couldn’t let him touch them. Because if he really saw them, if he realized what they had become, he would ask questions. And she would have no answers. Nothing but shame. And Ashley was terrified at the idea of walking barefoot again as it had already become unbearable, so a touch, a caress… She had been foolish.
Stupid to have tried to outdo Evelyn on that terrain. To have let Alan drag her into his schemes. And if she had initially wanted to use her husband’s fetish to win him back, what Alan had done to her body… didn’t bring her closer to Brian.
Her anger returned. It was Evelyn who had pushed her to this, to constantly expose herself, to tempt her husband.
She stood abruptly, as if staying seated a second longer would break her. Her legs carried her to the mirror. Her steps were firm, but something… was off.
Like a subtle misalignment, almost imperceptible.
She stopped abruptly in front of her reflection. And there, without understanding why, a strange vertigo washed over her. Not a loss of balance, not weakness, but a feeling close to absence.
She took a step back. Then another. And the unease returned, stronger. She felt incomplete, without knowing if it was physical, mental, or something else.
She frowned, lowering her eyes slightly toward her legs. Nothing seemed abnormal. The thick lab socks, high and snug, enveloped her as always. No skin touched anything. No stray breeze passed. No unwanted excitement.
She told herself it was the lack of connection with Brian, her emotions in turmoil. She thought long and hard but couldn’t quite pinpoint the source of her unease.
Ashley inhaled softly. An imperceptible shiver ran down her arms.
She stood there a few more seconds, frozen in front of her reflection. She wished she could scratch out her own gaze, erase everything she saw, everything she no longer understood. Nothing had changed in the mirror. And yet… she didn’t recognize herself.
So she went back to lie down, slowly, mechanically, like closing a box that was too full. She pulled the sheet over herself, covering herself completely, even her head. And in the warm darkness of this precarious refuge, she waited. For the guilt to ease. For the anger to subside. For the shame to fade.
But nothing came. Only the night.
Time passed slowly for Evelyn after Brian left to rejoin Ashley.
In her room, Evelyn lay on her back, eyes open in the darkness. The sheet pulled up to her waist, her body perfectly still, she wasn’t even trying to sleep. Every passing minute brought dawn closer. And this dawn carried a promise.
She had requested a new trial.
And this time… it would be different from her previous humiliation.
She had never been so calm and determined, with a single goal: to turn the tables.
A game where Ashley would be humiliated as she had been.
A game whose outcome would ensure Brian slept in her room again, and perhaps even in her bed.
She didn’t know how she would win yet, but she would find a way.
Because this time, she wouldn’t want to be nice.
