Paranormal Erotic Romance Box Set (76 page)

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Authors: Lola Swain,Ava Ayers

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Anthologies, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Collections & Anthologies, #Anthologies & Short Stories

BOOK: Paranormal Erotic Romance Box Set
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“The Board?” Papa said. “Why must you go to the Board? I
am on the Board as well, but it sounds as if you are implying this is Lyric’s
fault.”

“Mr. Trucido, the Board is always informed when there is talk
and I can assure you there has been talk. For many years there has been
discussion about you and your family. Discussions that we have not, until now,
brought to your attention. We feel that we need to discuss this with the Board
as we cannot have any rumors, or otherwise, disrupting the other children. I am
sure you understand.”

“No, I do not understand,” Papa said and stood from his
chair. “It sounds as if you are blaming Lyric for being bullied and feel that
you need to hold all my children responsible for your lack of backbone. I do
not know of this talk you speak of, but my children, same as the others, should
not be disrupted!”

“Mr. Trucido, I am suspending Lyric until the Board is
able to discuss what to do with the rumors about her and your other children.
If we deem that these are just the silly machinations of teenagers, so be it.
Lyric can then return to school. If not, well, we will need to further discuss
what to do with Lyric and your other children.”

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I
cannot believe you are suspending my child at will, for no reason,” Papa said
and looked down at me. “Get up Lyric, we are going!”

“Mr. Trucido, you will note that Wilton Day is a private
school, we have strict code of conduct guidelines, a
contract
, that all
children must follow. Lyric broke those rules just with her jaunt over to
Professor Teresi’s home and she needs to face the consequences. I have a duty
to all children at this school. If they will be harmed or influenced by someone
or something that has the potential to damage them, it must be investigated.”

Papa and I walked to the door and he turned to face
Headmaster Wells. I closed my eyes and wished for Papa to kill him, but he did
not.

“Again, I do not understand, Headmaster Wells,” Papa said
as he opened the office door. “I am taking Lyric home now and will send my
driver to retrieve the other children as soon as he takes us to our apartment.
Have them at the entrance in fifteen minutes! You will be hearing from me
again.”

Papa and I left the office and he gripped my arm as we
walked through the corridor of the school.

“Papa,” I said as he dragged me toward our car, “this is
not my fault. Professor Teresi’s cunt of a wife caused this! It’s her fault,
Papa!”

“Shut your fucking mouth and get in the car,” Papa said
through clenched teeth as our driver opened the door to the Town Car for us.

Papa refused to speak to me the whole way back to our
apartment. When we got into the elevator, he looked down at me and grabbed my
arm.

“When we cross the threshold, you will join me in the
utility room,” he said.

The terror shot through my body as we ascended toward the
apartment and I clenched my legs together to hold back the urge to piss myself.
When the doors opened, Papa dragged me from the elevator, through the foyer and
into the kitchen by my hair. Carla stood at the sink and swung around as Papa
fumbled with the pad lock on the door.

“Oh, Lyric,” she said, “what have you done?”

I looked at her through my tears and trembled. I couldn’t
speak as Papa removed the pad lock from the hinge and opened the door.

“Mr. Lucien, please,” Carla said.

Papa ignored her and flung me into the room by my hair. I
hit the stone floor and felt the skin peel from my knees. He slammed the heavy
door closed and walked to the center of the damp-smelling room and yanked the
chain to turn on the overhead bulb. The bulb swung back and forth, illuminating
the scariest parts of the room for a moment before plunging them back into
darkness.

This is Papa’s torture chamber. And while none of us kids
had the displeasure of experiencing it until now, it was the one threat Papa
held over our heads. There was no time-out chair in our world. It was this
room.

Papa circled me slowly. I watched his shiny, black
wing-tips move past me as they clicked on the hard floor.

“What shall I do with you, Lyric?” Papa said and kicked me
in the ribs. “What shall I do to this petulant child of my own flesh?”

“Papa, I’m sorry,” I said as I rolled over on my back and
stared up at him.

“Sorry?” Papa said and kicked me again in my side. “You
say you’re sorry? What will we do, Lyric, hmm? What will we do if we are
exposed because of you?”

Papa kicked me over and over in the side as I stared up
into his eyes. I couldn’t think of an answer and he yanked me from the floor by
my arm and swung me around to face him.

“Do you know how long I worked for this, Lyric? What you
have done has threatened all of this. I try with you, as I do your brothers and
sisters. I tried to impress upon you the importance of staying under the radar
until the hour came. I tried to instill in you the understanding that our
family needs to look out only for family interests. You apparently need a
refresher.”

Papa pushed me against the wall at the end of the room and
pinned my arms above my head. He pressed his hard body against mine and
breathed heavily into my ear.

“Papa, I’m sorry,” I said and groaned.

He stepped back from me and separated my arms and clamped
heavy shackles that hung from long chains bolted to the wall around my wrists. He
crouched down at my feet and shackled my ankles. The chains were long enough to
allow me to move, but their purpose was not my comfort. The length of the
chains was to ensure he could turn me front to back as he administered his
punishment.

“You may think you’re sorry now, Lyric,” Papa said as he
stood from my feet, “but, I promise, you will know what sorry really is in just
a moment.”

He tore at my clothing until there was nothing left but
tatters and shreds at my feet. I shivered against the cold as I pressed my back
toward the wall and tensed my body for his punishment. He removed his red silk
tie and tied it at the back of my head so it covered my eyes. He ran his hands
up and down my naked body and I leaned into his touch. Mingled with the fear,
my pussy throbbed with excitement and was wet with the anticipation.

“You are so beautiful, Lyric,” Papa said into my ear. “Too
beautiful for your own good, sadly. But, I will not harm your face.”

I heard the click of his shoes as he walked away from me.
And then I heard a louder click and a hissing sound. As he walked toward me,
the hissing got louder. He dragged something across the floor as he walked
toward me. My heart pounded so hard and so fast, I thought it would explode.
Ironically, my pussy beat as fast as my heart and I felt the juices run down
the inside of my thighs. And Papa saw it, too.

“My goodness,” Papa said, “you feel no fear, do you?”

“No, Papa,” I said, “I am afraid.”

I felt heat on the inside of my thighs as he held whatever
was hissing near my skin. The heat made me think it was a candle, but the
hissing was a mystery.

“It’s a blowtorch,” Papa said, answering my thoughts.

My body convulsed as I left the state of anticipatory
excitement and entered panic. I pictured him burning my face and body until the
flesh blistered off my bones and I was nothing but a puddle of grease on the
stone floor. Who would love me then?

“Do you know what the only thing I took away from the
Inquisitions was, Lyric? That people need to mind their own business and concentrate
on themselves and their own endeavors. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Papa,” I said. “I agree.”

I heard the clink of the metal canister of the blowtorch
as Papa put it onto the ground. His hands ran down my shaking legs as he
lowered himself to my feet. The hissing from the blowtorch whooshed and
intensified. He was heating something up. I knew whatever it was, it was going
to become part of me.

“You do? You agree?” Papa said.

I smelled it before I felt it. Leather. Burning leather.

“Y-yes.” I said and braced myself.

“But, Lyric, if you invite people into your business, your
business then becomes theirs. Isn’t that right?”

I felt the air rush away from my body as if someone took a
centuries-long inhale. I heard nothing, but felt everything. A blast of air hit
my skin followed by the burning leather strap as Papa used all of his strength
and snapped it against my stomach.

“I am sorry, Lyric, but you must learn,” Papa said as he
whipped me repeatedly with the leather strap.

I was offered a reprieve of sorts as he paused long enough
to reheat the leather with the blowtorch. He turned me so I faced the wall and
resumed his punishment as he flogged my back and ass with the hot leather. I
bit my bottom lip so hard my mouth filled with my bitter, saline blood. I
refused to cry. If I did, I knew that the beatings would only get worse. Papa
abhors whiners.

He grunted and snarled like the animal he is as he used
the force of his anger and his apprehension at the reprisals, to whip me.

“We will be cast out, Lyric,” he said. “Cast out like
fucking gypsies because of your juvenile behavior!”

The edges of the strap cut into the skin on my ass and I
felt the blood flow. My legs buckled and I sunk to the floor as he snapped the
hot leather against the back of my neck. He stopped and lifted me by my waist
and brought me to my feet. He continued my beating, but I couldn’t hold my
weight any longer and soon fell to the floor again. My arms strained against
the chains as I rested on my side.

Papa whipped me for an hour before he threw the strap on
top of my body and ripped his tie from my eyes.

Papa brought my face up to his and his eyes glowed with
anger. His breath was as hot as the leather and damp as the room against my
face. He stuck his tongue out and licked the sweat from my forehead.

“You deserved it, Lyric,” he said. “Tell me you deserved
it.”

“I deserved it, Papa,” I said.

“Good. Now, lay here and think about it,” he said and
released my head on the ground.

My body burned and my skin itched as the blood dried. I passed
out and woke to Nico unshackling me from the wall.

“Lyric, wake up,” Nico said.

He picked me up and carried me through the apartment
toward our suite of rooms. I didn’t see or hear anything else and nuzzled into
Nico’s neck as I held onto him. He laid me down on the bathroom floor and ran a
warm bath for me. I a little felt better as I inhaled the lavender-scented
bubble bath he poured under the water. He undressed himself and picked me back
and lowered me into the tub with him.

I leaned against his body for a moment and adjusted to the
stinging as the warm water hit my wounds. He turned me around and washed my
back gently and I watched the bath water change into a rust-colored broth as he
cleaned my skin.

“Was it awful, Lyric?” Nico said.

“Yes, it was awful,” I said.

“I’m sorry. I really am.”

“I know you are.”

After our bath, Nico carried me to my bedroom and laid me
on the bed. He ran his full lips up and down my damp skin and lapped at my
pussy with his tongue. I spread my legs and arched my back and he flicked his
tongue back and forth over my clit before he closed his mouth around the bud.
He sucked at my swollen clit as he moved his head up and down. He tugged on the
sensitive skin and sent waves of pleasure throughout my body which replaced the
pain.

“Fuck me,” I said.

I spread my legs wider and Nico shifted his body on top of
mine. I sucked my breath in as his cock entered my pussy. Nico ran his fingers
through my hair and smiled as he thrust deeply into me. I looked into his eyes
and saw none of the hate I saw in Papa’s.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and slammed my hips up
and down forcing him to intensify his strokes. The muscles of my pussy tensed
against his cock as he fucked me faster and deeper. The pain was gone now.
There was only the intense orgasm rocking our bodies as we came together.

Nico’s cock stayed inside my pussy until my muscles
finally relaxed and he withdrew. He flipped onto his back and I rested my head
on his chest and listened to his heart pound.

“Thank you,” I said as I lifted my head. “I feel much
better.”

“Fucking is a cure-all, to be sure,” he said and laughed.

“Nico, let’s go out,” I said and jumped off the bed. “I
want to play our game tonight.”

“Really?” he said and sat up. “You want to play the game
after everything that Papa did to you?”

“Yes, especially after what Papa did to me,” I said and
went to my closet for a special outfit. “Go get dressed and meet me downstairs
in thirty minutes. And grab the knives.”

“The knives? Okay, I don’t think it’s a good idea, but if
you want to play, we’ll play,” Nico said before he left my room.

And here we were in the hotel room with the tourists,
playing the game that Nico and I thought up and played many times before.
Simply put, we picked up a couple of strangers, fucked them and decided whether
or not we’d let them live. If things went fine and we had fun, they’d live. If
the opposite happened, they did not. So far, we played the game successfully
five times and unsuccessfully, three. You can decide what constitutes success or
failure.

The drugs in David/Michael’s system kept him hard, but he
couldn’t to cum. Not only was I bored with him, even watching Nico pumping his
cock in and out of Kristine/Karen couldn’t keep me wet. And, as I’m sure you
know, no fuck is better than a dry fuck. I untangled myself from David/Michael
and walked toward the bed.

“My turn,” I said to Nico. “Enough with her, it’s time for
me.”

“Not yet,” Nico said and continued to fuck the wife.

I sat on the bed next to the wife and reached under her
and pinched her nipples. The look of bliss on her face angered me. I thought of
my knife and pictured myself slitting her throat right there. I pictured Nico
and me fucking in the blood that pumped from her severed carotid. It was enough
to forget the dry fuck I was subjected to and my pussy was wet as I fantasized.

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