Page 73
Story: Dean's Delinquent
“What makes you say that?”
“As we passed by the closed dorm doors, there’s nothing to indicate who lives there. There’s no personality here. No individuality.”
“Very astute. Correct as usual. For most of the submissives here, they’re unowned and must conform to a standard so that it’s easier to control the situations as they arise. Also, most of those in The Society are here because they did something wrong. So, in essence, this could be seen as part of their punishment.”
“And me? What did I do that was so wrong?”
“Until you showed up at the initiation, nothing. And that’s the problem. If you were any other normal student, I would have found a way to get you in my clutches a lot sooner. I just had to fall for a highly intelligent girl who doesn’t need anything.”
“Except you.”
The words hang between us for a moment, and as he stares at me, I worry he didn’t hear them. Or worse, he heard them and didn’t give a shit.
“And I need you,” he eventually murmurs as he pulls me into a tight embrace. “That’s the real reason you’re in here. It’s why no one can know who you are to me. It’s imperative you keep this a secret, Ashleigh. For many reasons, but your safety is paramount.”
“What’s the worst that can happen? So people know you’re fucking a student. I’m sure it’s a thing that happens.”
“If I were a teacher here, you’d be right. But even Professor Richards is careful about who knows he’s engaged to Melody. Not every teacher here is in The Society. Sure, he could get away with a lot, but again, he’s just a teacher. I’m the head of this whole damned schoolandThe Society. Until I met you, I didn’t give a damn about either of those things. But now I have more than just myself to think about. I have something far more precious than me.”
Though his words are flattering, there’s still that niggle of unease that courses through me. What isn’t he telling me? Should I actually be concerned? Or is he just being overprotective?
Exhaustion floods my body as my brain struggles to keep thinking of all the questions I could possibly have. “What happens now?”
“Now, I take care of my property. Into the bathroom.”
ChapterTwenty-Nine
Dean Anderson
Asmall lump in my throat tightens my airways as she walks ahead of me. Her pert ass sashays from side-to-side in an alluring way that’s not contrived or done on purpose. It’s just her. Just Ashleigh being Ashleigh.
As with everything about her, I find even the way she walks intoxicating. This is bad. This is very, very bad. Even though I’ve known I’ve wanted her since she first sassed me, the actual ramifications have been steadily dripping into my veins like an IV from hell.
How in the world do I think to keep her safe? Granted, Grigori seems to not have even an ounce of the same worry for Chelsea as I do for Ashleigh. Possibly it’s the trackers. More than likely it’s because he knows Sergie would torture the Pope himself if it meant getting answers to his bitch’s whereabouts.
As affluent as I am, I don’t have such security. Until Ashleigh, I never needed it. Unlike some secret societies, none of the people under my control seem to thirst for power in the same ways or are willing to do whatever the fuck it takes to get it.
I’d like to think it’s because they have their pick of submissives to slake their bloodthirsty needs onto. It’s certainly not because anyone here is all that good or magnanimous. Though I know I can be a force to be reckoned with, I don’t suppose I’m all that intimidating of a leader. Not like others might be.
I don’t deal in might or anger. I don’t force people to bow to me. In that way, I suppose I can be considered a benevolent leader.
Where some may rule by their weapons, I rule by my mind. Secrets are the most powerful tool one can possess, and every person has something they don’t want others to know. Especially here at Loftry.
It’s why politicians fuck my schoolgirls in the lower rooms where I have cameras at every turn. It’s why I know exactly who’s at every event, even with their masks on. Laughably, it’s how I knew Ashleigh was where she wasn’t supposed to be.
And now that I have her secret, that she likes it beyond rough, I have the means to keep her by my side. Not that blackmail is exactly needed. Apparently, she would have said yes to me without all of that. It’s odd to know she’s here by choice and not by compulsion. Not like the other submissives in our control.
Even now, as she bends over to turn the faucet on in the shower, my balls clench and cock grows stiff. Just like that. She wields this invisible power over me that no other submissive has been able to do. And that is exactly what makes her so dangerous.
Everyone here has that one thing, that one secret that would ruin them. For me, it’s her. If the wrong person knew this, if the wrong person found out just how intrinsically my heart was tied to this girl, they would be able to demand the world, and I would give it to them on a silver platter.
“They really are rather pretty,” her soft voice cuts through the gathering fog in my brain.
“What is, my pet?”
“The marks. I didn’t expect rope to leave such pretty patterns.”
Stepping out of the clothes, I let them fall to the floor as I cross over to her. “Doctor Andrew is nothing if not thorough. I wouldn’t have expected anything less of him than perfection.”
“As we passed by the closed dorm doors, there’s nothing to indicate who lives there. There’s no personality here. No individuality.”
“Very astute. Correct as usual. For most of the submissives here, they’re unowned and must conform to a standard so that it’s easier to control the situations as they arise. Also, most of those in The Society are here because they did something wrong. So, in essence, this could be seen as part of their punishment.”
“And me? What did I do that was so wrong?”
“Until you showed up at the initiation, nothing. And that’s the problem. If you were any other normal student, I would have found a way to get you in my clutches a lot sooner. I just had to fall for a highly intelligent girl who doesn’t need anything.”
“Except you.”
The words hang between us for a moment, and as he stares at me, I worry he didn’t hear them. Or worse, he heard them and didn’t give a shit.
“And I need you,” he eventually murmurs as he pulls me into a tight embrace. “That’s the real reason you’re in here. It’s why no one can know who you are to me. It’s imperative you keep this a secret, Ashleigh. For many reasons, but your safety is paramount.”
“What’s the worst that can happen? So people know you’re fucking a student. I’m sure it’s a thing that happens.”
“If I were a teacher here, you’d be right. But even Professor Richards is careful about who knows he’s engaged to Melody. Not every teacher here is in The Society. Sure, he could get away with a lot, but again, he’s just a teacher. I’m the head of this whole damned schoolandThe Society. Until I met you, I didn’t give a damn about either of those things. But now I have more than just myself to think about. I have something far more precious than me.”
Though his words are flattering, there’s still that niggle of unease that courses through me. What isn’t he telling me? Should I actually be concerned? Or is he just being overprotective?
Exhaustion floods my body as my brain struggles to keep thinking of all the questions I could possibly have. “What happens now?”
“Now, I take care of my property. Into the bathroom.”
ChapterTwenty-Nine
Dean Anderson
Asmall lump in my throat tightens my airways as she walks ahead of me. Her pert ass sashays from side-to-side in an alluring way that’s not contrived or done on purpose. It’s just her. Just Ashleigh being Ashleigh.
As with everything about her, I find even the way she walks intoxicating. This is bad. This is very, very bad. Even though I’ve known I’ve wanted her since she first sassed me, the actual ramifications have been steadily dripping into my veins like an IV from hell.
How in the world do I think to keep her safe? Granted, Grigori seems to not have even an ounce of the same worry for Chelsea as I do for Ashleigh. Possibly it’s the trackers. More than likely it’s because he knows Sergie would torture the Pope himself if it meant getting answers to his bitch’s whereabouts.
As affluent as I am, I don’t have such security. Until Ashleigh, I never needed it. Unlike some secret societies, none of the people under my control seem to thirst for power in the same ways or are willing to do whatever the fuck it takes to get it.
I’d like to think it’s because they have their pick of submissives to slake their bloodthirsty needs onto. It’s certainly not because anyone here is all that good or magnanimous. Though I know I can be a force to be reckoned with, I don’t suppose I’m all that intimidating of a leader. Not like others might be.
I don’t deal in might or anger. I don’t force people to bow to me. In that way, I suppose I can be considered a benevolent leader.
Where some may rule by their weapons, I rule by my mind. Secrets are the most powerful tool one can possess, and every person has something they don’t want others to know. Especially here at Loftry.
It’s why politicians fuck my schoolgirls in the lower rooms where I have cameras at every turn. It’s why I know exactly who’s at every event, even with their masks on. Laughably, it’s how I knew Ashleigh was where she wasn’t supposed to be.
And now that I have her secret, that she likes it beyond rough, I have the means to keep her by my side. Not that blackmail is exactly needed. Apparently, she would have said yes to me without all of that. It’s odd to know she’s here by choice and not by compulsion. Not like the other submissives in our control.
Even now, as she bends over to turn the faucet on in the shower, my balls clench and cock grows stiff. Just like that. She wields this invisible power over me that no other submissive has been able to do. And that is exactly what makes her so dangerous.
Everyone here has that one thing, that one secret that would ruin them. For me, it’s her. If the wrong person knew this, if the wrong person found out just how intrinsically my heart was tied to this girl, they would be able to demand the world, and I would give it to them on a silver platter.
“They really are rather pretty,” her soft voice cuts through the gathering fog in my brain.
“What is, my pet?”
“The marks. I didn’t expect rope to leave such pretty patterns.”
Stepping out of the clothes, I let them fall to the floor as I cross over to her. “Doctor Andrew is nothing if not thorough. I wouldn’t have expected anything less of him than perfection.”
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