Their Slave

Amber’s P.O.V.

Nathan secures my ankles to a spreader bar with leather cuffs on each side, locking them into a completely helpless state. He pulls the centre, extending its length and forcing my legs high up into the air, stretching them uncomfortably wide apart before chaining my wrists to the metal as well. I’m completely suspended on the edge of the table, left entirely at their mercy.

"God, just look at the way this bar flawlessly spreads her pussy open.” Nathan buries his face between my thighs and sucks on my wet pussy with a fierce hunger, driving me crazy.

Then he moves away, and Hunter spanks my pussy with his hand before rubbing it roughly. “So fucking beautiful and hot,” he praises, giving another heavy slap to my centre.

"Now... now the real fun begins." Nathan’s voice makes my body shiver.

My stepbrothers stand tall at the edge of the table with evil smiles. I’m naked and fully spread for them while they remain fully dressed. It shows their complete power in this basement, and it turns me on to the next level.

I should be terrified. I should be begging for mercy. But as I look up at the two ruthless men controlling my fate, a wicked rush of heat floods my veins. I completely love it when they dominate me together.

They think they are breaking me. They think this is just my punishment. But they have no idea that I’m already hopelessly addicted to their intense control over me.

A Few Weeks Ago

Hunter’s P.O.V.

The city stretches out beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass of my top floor office, but my attention is locked on the screen in front of me.

I slide my finger over the intercom button. “Come to my cabin, Emily."

I don't wait for a response before cutting the line. In less than two minutes, there is a knock on the door.

"Come in."

The door clicks open, and my personal assistant steps inside, clutching a tablet to her chest. She stops a few feet from my desk, her shoulders tense. I pick up the printed financial report she submitted earlier and toss it across the table. It slides to a stop right at the edge.

"What is this, Emily?" I lean back in my leather chair, my eyes locking onto hers. "There are so many mistakes in this report. It’s completely unacceptable."

She swallows hard, her face draining of colour. "I'm sorry, Mr Blackwood. I will recheck it right away and fix the data."

"You will.” A dark smile touches my lips as I stand up and slowly walk around the desk. "But only after I give you your punishment."

Her eyes widen in sheer terror. She knows exactly what that word means in this office. My punishments are cruel and entirely unforgiving.

"Strip. Now," I command, my voice leaving absolutely no room for negotiation.

Her hands tremble violently as she unbuttons her blouse before dropping her clothes piece by piece onto the floor until she stands exposed and shivering before me.

I don't give her time to think. I reach into the top drawer of my console and pull out a pair of heavy metal nipple clamps before attaching them firmly to her nipples until a gasp escapes her lips.

Then, I unbuckle my leather belt and fold the heavy strap over my knuckles. “Bend over the table."

She obeys instantly and cries out as the first heavy strike of the belt cracks against her bare buttocks. As I spank her brutally, the sound echoes off the office walls. Before she can even breathe, I step up behind her and guide my dick forward to take her roughly from behind.

She whimpers, and her body shakes from the intense friction, but I don't go soft on her. I ramp up the speed, thrusting into her with a powerful force while alternating each movement with a heavy slap of the belt against her aching skin. She begs, her body moving closer to the edge of a climax, but I pull back abruptly, leaving her completely unfulfilled and trembling against the table.

"No cumming.” I adjust my trousers as I walk back to my chair. "Light my cigarette and get lost."

With shaking hands, she picks up the lighter from my desk. Her fingers spark the flame to the tip of my cigarette before she frantically puts on her clothes and flees the cabin, shutting the door.

I take a deep drag, blowing the grey smoke toward the ceiling as I sit back in my chair, completely relaxed. Women are fragile, manipulative creatures. They fucking all deserve to be treated like absolute shit.

Nathan’s P.O.V.

The bulbs outlining the green room mirror burn into my eyes, but I hardly see my own reflection. I’m just staring through it, lost in the same old thoughts, the same suffocating pain that has been killing me for years. The pain is always there, a constant ache that never lets me breathe.

The past broke me, tearing out whatever heart I used to have left until I became entirely numb. Seeing me rot like this is what turned my elder brother, Hunter, into a heartless monster, too. We’re both ruined, just in different ways.

Suddenly, my phone starts buzzing on the vanity, pulling me out of my thoughts. Hunter's name flashes on the screen.

I slide the bar and press the phone to my ear.

“Hey, Nate, all the best for the concert.” His deep voice echoes through the line.

"Thanks," I reply flatly.

I don't smile. I never smile.

I can hear the subtle shift in his breathing, the quiet frustration and anger that always takes over him when he hears the emptiness in my voice. It drives him crazy to see me in pain. It makes him despise the rest of the world, turning his rage onto anyone else who dares to cross his path.

"I know you will rock like always.” He tries to inject some life into the conversation. He always tries to cheer me up. He tries to force a smile out of me every single time we talk, and he fails every single time.

Because the light in me is gone. I’ve completely forgotten how to live.

"Yeah. And I’m coming back tomorrow."

"Okay. See you tomorrow then."

A knock rattles the green room door, cutting through our conversation.

"I'll call you after my concert," I tell him.

"Okay, bye."

I hang up and throw the phone down. "Come in," I call out.

The door clicks open, and my personal makeup artist steps into the room. She takes one look at my expression and freezes.

"First, close the door," I command, not even looking at her.

She swallows hard, gesturing vaguely toward the hallway. "Mr Blackwood, you have the concert in just a few minutes..."

"I said, just close the damn door.” The sheer malice in my tone makes her entire body shiver.

She instantly drops her protests and turns around frantically to lock the door behind her. She stands against it, breathing heavily, waiting for whatever comes next.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and lay it flat on the vanity table, then unlock the screen and tap the stopwatch.

"Now, you have to make me cum in two minutes.” I unbutton my jeans and free my dick. "If you don’t, you will be punished, and I will be late for my concert because of you."

I slap my thumb down on the screen, and the red numbers start ticking backwards.

She doesn't waste a second. She drops heavily onto her knees in front of my chair, her face pale.

“No hands,” I instruct, and she leans forward, her lips trembling as she takes me into her mouth, working frantically against the countdown.

As I watch the screen. 01:15. 00:45, my mind drifts to the contract she signed when I hired her. The paperwork states that I can do anything I want to her, and she has to obey without asking a single question, taking whatever rough treatment I give her.

Every ounce of pain I’ve carried for years comes out as pure anger directed at her. It gives me a twisted sense of relief. I enjoy making her suffer because it lets me take out my rage against the woman who broke my heart into millions of pieces.

As the timer hits zero, a beep echoes through the green room, pulling me back to the earth. I'm still hard.

Good, now I can punish her.

I fist my hand into her hair, violently ripping her mouth away from my dick. “You failed, slut.”

I bring my hand across her face, slapping her hard. The force of the strike snaps her head to the side, and a small cry tears from her throat as she stumbles against the floor.

I don't give her a second to recover. I grab her by the hair again, forcing her head back down. I mouth fuck her roughly, holding her head entirely still as I use her throat to get what I want. Within a few minutes, I release myself, cumming deep into her mouth, groaning.

I pull away, letting her collapse back onto the floor, gasping and wiping her lips. But I’m not done with her.

After pulling the hairbrush out of the drawer, I step over her shivering body. Grabbing her by the collar of her shirt, I tear it open.

Then I use the back of the hairbrush to spank her boobs, leaving bright red marks against her skin. She cries out, tears streaming down her face.

I toss the brush onto the floor, zip up my jeans, and don't look back at her as I walk out of the green room.

Minutes later, I’m standing at the centre of the stage. The stadium lights hit my face, and the crowd is roaring, screaming my name, but I don't feel a thing.

I grip the microphone. When I open my mouth to sing, there is no joy, no entertainment. The lyrics that bleed out of me depict nothing but raw pain and agonising heartbreak, the only things I have left inside me.