Page 15

Eventually, when the song ends, he pulls away breathlessly.

“Come on.” He weaves his fingers through mine. “There’s something I want to show you.”

I float across the dance floor after him as we leave the bustle behind.

Nate checks to make sure no chaperones are watching.

They’re too busy having fun, and the single moms crowd around our geography teacher.

He’s a single guy under fifty, who still has all his hair and a gut that doesn’t expand beyond the original holes that came in his belt, so he’s basically the most eligible bachelor in town.

“This way,” Nate says, tugging my hand to lead me down the unlit hall into the main building.

He breaks into a run, dragging me behind him. My laughter echoes around the emptiness.

“Through here,” he says, heading into the art room, which is on the opposite end of the building to the ball. “We can really be alone here.”

Moonlight streams through the windows. As soon as the door clicks closed, Nate’s hands are in my hair, sweeping me into another tsunami of a kiss.

“Fuck,” he groans, pushing me back against a desk. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”

His mouth is on mine again, ravenous and lustful, like I’m his oxygen.

His fingers creep over my bodice and greedily grab a handful of my breast. The suddenness takes me off guard as he paws at me in a feverish frenzy that feels quite different to how it was on the dance floor.

There’s a desperate urgency to his movements, something almost animalistic.

“You’re so hot,” he purrs, pulling up my skirts. “Every time I see you, all I can think about is having you alone like this.”

I catch his wrist as it reaches my knees.

“Hey,” I whisper. “Slow down.”

“Why wait?” he murmurs, pressing his erection into me. “You want this as much as I do, right?”

The liquor on his breath is suddenly all I can taste. He rolls up my skirt. Nate’s been lovely until this point, but this doesn’t feel right. It feels dirty. Sordid, almost.

I pull away.

“Nate,” I say. “I really like you, but I don’t want to do this here.”

“Shit,” he curses, stepping back. I expect him to apologize for taking things too far, but he pouts moodily like an entitled child. “I thought this is what you wanted. You can’t kiss a guy like that and send mixed messages.”

“Kissing doesn’t mean that I want to have sex with you in the art room,” I snap.

“Cocktease,” he mutters.

I shove his chest hard.

“If you want to get your dick wet that badly, I’m sure there’s plenty of girls at the ball who’d volunteer,” I say, crossing my arms. “You should leave.”

“Fine,” he huffs.

He slams the door behind him, leaving me panting.

How can something so good turn bad so fast?

“What’s wrong, Little Ghost?” an ethereal voice asks, sending a chill racing down my spine. “Did he leave you unsatisfied?”

Adrenaline kicks in. I dart for the exit, but before I reach it, a figure launches from the darkness. He must have been lurking in the shadows all along. I squeal in pain as he grabs my hair to yank me backward. His gloved hand covers my mouth.

“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be,” he purrs.

It’s Two.

I recognize his voice.

I try biting down, but he’ll feel nothing through his thick gloves. I struggle while he chuckles. His muscular arms contain me in a tight embrace, restricting all movement.

My eyes widen as the art room door opens. I hope—pray!—that it’s Nate. Instead, a man wearing a black tuxedo and matching ski mask steps inside.

“Do you really think you can run from us?” the new arrival questions. “There’s nowhere for you to hide. You’re ours now. Our toy to play with. We’re not letting you go.”

Two’s breath tickles my ear. “If I take my hand off your mouth, are you going to play nice?” I manage to nod against his grip.

Slowly, he withdraws it. His fingers move to rest around my throat.

He grips my neck, applying light pressure to my windpipe.

“One wrong move, and I’ll snap your pretty little neck.

One wrong sound, and you’ll be as dead as our last present. ”

“Who are you?” I gasp. “What do you want?”

One laughs. “So many questions, Little Ghost…” He saunters forward. His eyes scan my body, taking in every inch. “That’s not what I’d be asking if I were you.”

“What then?” I ask.

“I’d ask what we’re going to do to you.”

I notice something around his neck, and my stomach churns when I realize his necklace is made up of small skulls instead of beads.

Just like the one left on my pillow. My breathing quickens as One runs a gloved finger along my collarbone.

His hand dips lower, skimming over the boning of my corset.

He keeps going, gliding down the soft fabric and tainting it with every stroke.

I swallow hard when he reaches the top of my panties.

The warmth from my mound radiates through the fabric and makes him pause before he meets my heat.

“What are you going to do to me?” I breathe.

One laughs, tearing his hand away.

“We’re going to destroy you, Little Ghost. I thought you’d have realized that by now,” he says. His mask is mere centimeters from my face. “And when we’re finished breaking you, you’ll be thanking us for it.”

I can’t let them see how afraid I am. I won’t.

“Screw you,” I snarl, sounding braver than I feel.

“There she is,” Two says. “Our brave little ghost. You handled yourself well tonight. I wondered whether I should step in.”

“I don’t need your help,” I say. “I don’t want it.”

“I think you’re going to very much want what we’re going to give you,” One says.

“In fact, you’ll want it so badly that you’ll stop trying to forget about us.

Ignoring us won’t work. It won’t send us away.

You’re fighting it, but I know you want our attention.

You enjoy it. You crave it, and soon, you’ll crave us. ”

“Never,” I spit. “You’re crazy.”

Two sighs, speaking to his friend, “He’ll be sad to have missed this.”

“What’s wrong?” I rebuff. “Did your British friend not make it out of the asylum?”

Two cackles, tightening his grip on my throat. “We’ll send him your regards. Although, I’m sure you’ll be seeing him very soon.”

My stomach churns.

“What’s wrong?” One taunts, unclipping the front of my bustier. “Two of us not enough for you?”

He undoes one fastening at a time.

“No—”

Two’s hand muffles my objections as the front of my dress falls open. I’m not wearing a bra, and my breasts shimmer in the moonlight, the tiny blue veins over them visible.

One’s gloved fingertip trails across the tip of my nipple and makes it harden. He circles it, before catching it between his thumb and forefinger. He pinches hard. I cry out into Two’s hand, wishing for a savior who isn’t coming.

“A real man knows how to pleasure a woman,” One says. “You deserve better than a high school fumble.”

He wants to destroy me and bring me pleasure. None of it makes sense.

One’s eyes penetrate me. They’re an unreadable misty gray color, full of secrets, storms, and something else too… Damage. So much damage.

“Have you ever felt a man’s touch between your thighs, Little Ghost?” One asks.

I blush. Although I can’t see him, I imagine he’s smirking underneath his mask.

“I bet you’ve imagined it,” he says. “How it will feel to have a cock fill your tight virgin cunt.”

I’m terrified, yet his words make my inner thighs clench in desire.

One drops to his knees. Two forces me to look ahead as One crawls under my skirts. I keep my legs pressed together, but One coaxes my knees apart. I whimper into Two’s palm and move my head from side to side in resistance.

“Remember what I said about moving,” Two growls ominously.

One’s hand slips up my thighs. His glove grazes the front of my panties, and he pulls them down. He stands again, black panties in hand, and holds them up to his mask to inhale my scent.

“It’s time we remind our little ghost who owns her,” One says, unclipping his belt with his free hand. I swallow hard, my gaze drawn to the growing bulge in his pants. One hands Two the belt. “Tie her hands.”

Two removes his hand from my throat. I open my mouth to scream, but One stuffs my panties into it to gag me.

“Hold still,” Two growls, forcing my hands roughly behind my back and tying them in a leathery bind.

“No one can help you now,” One says, pinching my nipple again to make a point. “On your knees.”

Shaking, I lower myself into a prayer position. Two looms behind me ominously, while One shamelessly drops his pants and unsheathes his cock like a weapon.

It’s the first time I’ve seen one in person. It’s huge. Sometimes a tampon can hurt to put in, so I don’t know how I’ll stretch to fit something like that. He’s around nine inches long, and I’d be able to wrap both hands around his girth.

One removes his gloves and spits onto his palm.

He wraps his hands around his thick member, and I watch his foreskin slide up and down as he pleasures himself.

He has no shame. He exudes confidence and keeps his eyes fixed on me the whole time.

I’m repulsed and hypnotized. How would it feel in my hands?

“Don’t look away, Little Ghost,” One instructs as if he’s read my dirty thoughts. “This is what I want you to think about the next time you touch yourself.”

I look into his masked face, trying to take in as much as I can. Maybe I’ll see something that could identify him, but I can’t make out any real details. They don’t do police lineups of muscular thighs.

“You’re ours,” he groans, quickening his pace.

I’m transfixed as his cock engorges.

I know what’s about to happen before it does.

Nothing prepares me for his cum spraying over my tits. Ruining me. Tarnishing what’s supposed to be one of the best nights of my high school experience.

“Look at her, all painted in my cum,” One says. “It marks you as ours.”

Two hands him a phone, and One aims it in my direction. A bright flash fills the room. I look away, disgusted that this is something he wants to commemorate.

“Behave,” Two instructs, wrenching me onto my feet. He chuckles as he removes the belt from my wrists while One dresses. As soon I’m unbound, I grab my corset, pulling it up to hide my breasts.

One steps forward.

“This is only the beginning,” One promises. He plucks my panties from my mouth and smears a droplet of his sticky cum over my bottom lip.

I keep my lips clamped shut, refusing to taste him. He’s already taken too much from me tonight.

They say no more and leave, shutting the art room door quietly and leaving me alone.

No matter how hard I scrub my skin, I’ve been marked by them. And they know it too.