Page 44

Put Something In His Little Worm Hole

“Perhaps the doctor was right about you, Carter,” Yulia said, striding ahead down the polished marble corridor.

Isobel glared daggers between the other woman’s shoulder blades, but her tone was neutral and matter-of-fact.

“Oh?”

“Don’t act dumb,” Yulia snipped. “It no longer suits you. I’m saying you did well tonight. You may prove useful to us yet.”

“I live to serve.”

“You live for the attention, Carter. But no matter, that also suits you.”

How such intelligent people could be so glaringly stupid at times was beyond Isobel. Unless … they were playing her again. She sighed, carefully ex amining the idea that she had been building inside her head since Yulia came to fetch her from the private box.

It seemed like the best way forward, but it was risky. Still, she needed a way to make contact with Amina, which meant she needed a way to open those doors during a performance entirely based around the premise of those doors never opening.

“I was thinking …” she ventured, “what if I don’t dance?”

“Too bad. They’ve paid to watch you dance.”

“What if I give them something better?”

Yulia shot her a look over her shoulder. “Like what?”

“I’ll need one of the professors,” Isobel said, swallowing hard.

“Another trade?” Yulia shot her another look, but this time, she laughed. “Look how far you’ve come. Well, go on, I’m listening, and you have exactly three minutes before I get bored.”

“I don’t know … kink,” Isobel forced out, her stomach clenching uneasily. “But the professors do. They can instruct me—in the room, I mean.”

“Instruct you in what , Carter?”

“Domination.” She expected the word to make her sick, but instead, it sparked the barest sense of power.

She liked the notion that she might be able to walk into a room intended to strip her of autonomy and put her on display, only to flip all of that around on the assholes paying to be there.

“You could give them something and tell them to slip it beneath the door if they want to be dominated by me.”

Yulia stopped walking, turning to face her completely. “I like this,” she said plainly. “But as clever as you are, you don’t exactly scream dominant .”

“That’s why I need one of the professors. They’ll tell me what to do. I’ll do it.”

“The ultimate cuckold fantasy.” Yulia looked like she was about to pee herself over the person-shaped stack of riches wrapped in Isobel’s dress and standing in Isobel’s shoes.

“Goddamn, I really like it. Fine, you can have Mikel Easton. I was beginning to think I would have to pay his clients to take him instead of the other way around, anyway.”

Isobel trailed her with a frown, imagining bludgeoning her with every painting and statue they passed until they were outside the same dressing room Yulia had shown her to earlier.

“Wait in here,” Yulia ordered. “Your performance begins in twenty minutes, and I have a lot to prepare. I think … yes, golden slips of paper. Golden tickets.” She smirked.

Isobel had no idea what she was talking about.

“I’ll fetch Professor Easton. In the meantime, I suggest finding something suitable to wear.

You’ll find an assortment of costumes in the wardrobe, most of them around your size. ”

Isobel pushed into the room and immediately began searching for cameras.

She scoured the walls, the roof, the paintings, the furnishings, the small kitchenette, the attached closet of a bathroom, the wardrobe, and even beneath the couches.

When she was sure the room was clean, she tugged out the shiniest black item in the wardrobe and ducked into the small bathroom to change.

The bundle of shiny black fabric turned out to be a full-length latex bodysuit that took her more than a few painful minutes to squeeze into.

Instead of sleeves, there was a pair of elbow-length, black latex gloves.

She was still trying to shove her hands into them when she pushed out of the bathroom to find Mikel waiting.

His attention snagged on her chest for a moment, his brows inching up before he did a full sweep of her body. “You always were good at dressing the part.”

“Can I do this?” she blurted, assuming Yulia had already filled him in.

“You can do anything,” he promised, watching as she finally got the gloves to fit around her fingers.

She dropped onto one of the couches to put her heels back on. “This feels insane.”

“Maybe, but … has anyone told you today how fucking brilliant you are?”

“Actually, you’d be surprised how many times I’ve been called clever today.”

“I really wouldn’t be, Illy.” He checked his watch, and she felt more than heard the growl in his voice when she moved to the second door.

When she glanced back at him, his eyes were on her ass, but he forced them to his watch instead.

“We need to go in now. Yulia said she would hand each of the clients a golden ticket or something like that.”

So hopefully, Amina is the only one with a cuckold fantasy tonight , he added through the bond.

She nodded but hesitated, staring at the door.

He moved behind her, his muscled front pressing into her, his hands gripping her hips as he lightly pressed himself against the extra shiny swell of her ass, just enough pressure to distract her.

“Just do exactly what I tell you—you don’t even have to think, okay? I’ve got this.”

Relief flooded through her. “Thank you.”

They walked into the room, and Mikel took centre stage, the expression on his face suddenly terse and menacing. “Music,” he ordered, the word a soft bite.

She jumped to obey, hurrying to the tablet on the wall and clicking into the most recent playlist that had been selected.

Heavy, heady bass music thrummed into the room, and she checked the broadcasting light to ensure the pods were receiving the sound directly from their room.

She would switch the sound over when the time was right.

“It would seem we have options.” Mikel looked bored and even stifled a yawn, but she could feel his frustration through the bond as she peered at the two golden tickets poking beneath two of the doors.

Fuck . They needed to get this right .

“Do you have a secret boyfriend or girlfriend, pet?” he crooned at her dangerously.

Ew? She projected into his mind.

His lips twitched a fraction. You don’t know what cuckold even means, do you?

It’s when you put them in a cuckold , she said confidently.

He was laughing at her on the inside. She could feel it.

“Well?” he growled, suddenly in her face. “Do you? Show me who it is. Unlatch the door. Show me .”

Okay, fine , she whispered into his head. What the hell is a cuckold fantasy?

It’s when people fantasise about being humiliated by their partner cheating on them.

I don’t think any of you have that fantasy , she said, needing him to keep talking to her as she strode to the closest door, flipped the latch, and pulled it open.

No , he agreed, as a middle-aged man jumped up from his recliner, eyes glittering in excitement. We have the fantasy of ripping limp dicks like this one to shreds just for looking at you like that.

“Well?” Mikel rumbled. “What the fuck is taking so long?”

“Here he is,” Isobel said, stepping back and revealing the man within the room.

Mikel curled his lip in disgust. “I see why you came crawling to me. This pathetic piece of shit doesn’t deserve an ass as tight as yours, does he?”

Isobel’s mouth parted in shock. Were they supposed to be so mean ? She was about to check if the man was offended, but Mikel was suddenly gripping her chin and forcing her eyes to his instead.

“You don’t look at this worm until he earns it, am I understood?”

The man swore quietly behind her, his voice filled with excitement. Isobel could feel his eyes crawling along her back and legs.

“Tie him to the pole,” Mikel ordered. “Blindfold and gag him. He needs permission from me before he can look at you or speak to you.”

She followed his orders in a daze, pulling a set of handcuffs from the wall and a long, silk blindfold. She refused to look at the man’s face as he moved willingly to the pole, Mikel a menacing shadow behind her. She quickly handcuffed him, trying to ignore the excited bulge in his pants.

“Look at that,” Mikel mocked as she looped the blindfold over his eyes from behind. “You don’t even need a stepladder to reach the worm’s head. But you need one for me, don’t you, pet?”

“Yes, Sir.”

His eyes glinted at her in approval. “Fetch those scissors and cut his shirt off. Touch even an inch of his skin with your pretty little fingers, and I’ll have to cut that patch of skin off because he doesn’t deserve it, so be careful.”

She gripped the scissors from the wall and went to work, gritting her teeth against the stench of the man’s cologne. A moan trembled out of his lips as she accidentally bumped the cool metal of the scissors against his nipple, and Mikel bristled, yanking her back a step.

“Didn’t I tell you to gag him?” he asked furiously. “Worms can’t talk; they can only suck. Put something in his little worm hole.”

He confiscated the scissors from her, and she hurried over to the wall, searching for a ball gag—glad that she at least knew what one looked like. She found a strap with a bright red ball attached and snatched it up, walking back to the man.

“Open up, worm,” she ordered, trying not to retch as he immediately and eagerly popped his lips open.

She shoved the gag in and circled him to tie off the strap behind his head.

“Good girl.” Mikel ran his knuckles down her spine, silently soothing her as he pressed the scissors back into her hands. “Finish with the shirt, and then we’ll see how well the worm can scream with his hole plugged.”

You’ve done this before , she accused through the bond, as she finished cutting away the man’s shirt. It comes way too easily to you .

Humiliation is a common enough kink , he returned smoothly.