Chapter 2 The punishment

Elsie

When Jacob counted down to one, he walked over to the counter and picked up a tall glass of icy water. He returned to where I stood and began to slowly, deliberately pour the icy liquid down the back of my neck. The shock was instant and absolute.

He wore a smug and satisfying smile as he looked down at me like I was a simple toy meant to be played with.

The cold ran in slow rivulets, soaking through my thin tank top. I gasped, an uncontrolled, high-pitched noise. Every muscle in my body seized.

Aiden caught my arm, pulling me hard against his chest. I beat my fists on him. My breath came fast, fear and adrenaline mixing into a sharp, painful cocktail. He just smirked at the panic on my face. His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that was both cold and scorching.

I jerked my head away. I hissed a curse, low and raw, as I continued to struggle against his solid frame. My mind was screaming one word: Fight. But my body seemed to only understand the language of his strength.

He fisted my hair near the root, not painful yet, but firm. He used the grip to hold my head still. I had to look into his eyes. They were black pools now, empty of feeling. He was a man with no soul. I knew it. I saw it.

“I told you. You obey us. Always,” Aiden grated. “You broke the rule for no reason. You chose to challenge me in my own space.”

“Let go of me, you bastard.” My voice shook, but the defiance was still there, a tiny, burning ember I wouldn't let him extinguish.

“That’s not going to happen.” He shook my head gently, a horrifyingly tender gesture. “You need punishment. Keep fighting me, and your discipline will be worse. I promise you that, little mouse.”

I fought the tears that threatened to break my resolve and strip away my dignity. This wasn’t just physical domination; it was psychological. “You can’t do that. I have rights.”

They both laughed—a deep, humorless sound that settled the hairs on my neck.

Jacob bent down, his warm breath ghosting over my ear. “We can do anything we want. You lost all your rights when you stepped into this house. You belong to us, Elsie. Every part of you.”

He brushed his lips on my hot, wet skin, right below my ear. A disgusting, violent wave of arousal hit me. It pooled deep and warm in my belly. It was the worst kind of betrayal. My nipples went instantly hard against the thin, soaked material of my tank top.

My core tightened with filthy, fast images of him—images of what they would do to me. How could I be aroused by these monsters, these criminals, men I knew were killers? The self-loathing was a punch to the gut, making me despise my own flawed, traitorous flesh.

“We’ll teach you about respect now,” Aiden said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register that vibrated deep in my chest.

Jacob stepped closer. His dark eyes were heavy with cold amusement. He wasn't even touching me, but his presence felt like a crushing weight. “She needs to learn her place, Aiden. We can't have her thinking her little outbursts mean anything.”

Aiden’s grip shifted without warning. He held my waist, one hand moving under my hip. He lifted me slightly, a swift, practiced motion, and turned me. He dropped me roughly over the countertop. The action was fast, rough, and utterly humiliating.

My arms stretched to the floor. He immediately yanked the wet fabric of my skirt up to my waist. I was embarrassed not only by the action but by the fact that I was not wearing any panties. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and completely powerless.

“No! Stop! Don’t you dare!” The words were weak, useless little protests swallowed by the vast, cold space of the kitchen.

Jacob stepped around. He ran a hand over my exposed ass. The light touch sent a violent shock through me, unwanted and electric. My gasp was loud and broken.

“Nice and firm,” Jacob murmured, approvingly. “Just right for a lesson. No padding needed.”

I wiggled, kicking out several times, heat blooming on my skin.

Aiden pressed down on my back. “Remain in position or your punishment will be much worse.”

Aiden tightened his hold on my thighs with his free arm. He paused, drawing out the moment, making me wait for the inevitable. The silence was worse than the fighting. It was pure, distilled anticipation.

Then the first sharp slap hit as he brought his hand crashing down my naked ass. The pain exploded on my skin, hot, stinging, and immediate.

Over the next few seconds, he delivered several more in rapid succession, moving from one side to the other.

I couldn’t think clearly or breathe, the anguish building to a point I couldn’t stop whimpers from sliding up from my throat. “Stop. Just stop!” My God, I was wailing like a little girl.

“Then learn that we are your masters. The sooner you accept your place, the better everything will be for you.”

I cried out, the shock stealing the breath from my lungs. But beneath the pain, my body began its sickening, familiar betrayal.

The heat that had pooled before now intensified, spreading from my core to my cheeks with every sting. I hated the deep, shameful tremble that started low in my stomach. A perverse, wicked part of me wanted the touch to continue.

“That’s for yelling at me,” Aiden grated into my ear, his breath hot against my neck.

Another stinging impact. Louder this time. My entire body arched against his on the counter. “And that’s for your poor, poor attitude.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears finally burning the lids. I bit down hard on my lip, drawing blood, trying to swap the external pain for an internal one. I was burning up, a mix of shame and pure, wicked sensation.

He was a murderer. These monsters killed my sister. I was supposed to be fighting them, escaping them. But all I could do was wait. Wait for the next touch. Wait for the next sharp, humiliating, and utterly compelling stroke.

Jacob spoke from nearby, his voice laced with dark pleasure. “You see, Elsie? We’re not finished until we hear you apologize for your insolence.”

Aiden hit me again, harder, faster this time. The rhythmic impact blurred the individual strikes into a single, agonizing throb. The sheer pain finally cut through the arousal. I let out a choked sob.

“Stop! Please—I’m sorry! I’m sorry I yelled! Just stop!” The words were ripped out of me, a pathetic, desperate plea.

Aiden didn't stop immediately. He delivered one final, punishing stroke. Then, he held me up and spun me around to look into his eyes. He pulled me in, held me pressed against his chest, my wet, trembling body a perfect, broken mold against his strength.

His gaze dropped to my lips, which were still trembling. “Did you learn your lesson, little mouse?” he whispered, his eyes hot and mesmerizing. “Do you understand who owns your obedience?”

My head was spinning. My mouth was dry. I couldn’t form a protest. I could only manage a small, humiliated nod.

“Good girl,” Jacob sneered from behind us.

Aiden’s lips ghosted against mine, he kissed me, soft, and slow, like he was trying to calm me. I didn’t give him back. I just let him take whatever he wanted.

The scene was abruptly interrupted by a sharp, angry voice that sliced through the thick tension like a knife.

“What is going on here?”

I froze. Relief and terror hit me in a single, tidal wave. Lana. Aiden’s girlfriend stood in the doorway, staring at the sight of my soaking, bruised body plastered against her boyfriend’s.

My attention snapped to Lana. Her eyes, fixed on me, were now blazing with a raw, terrifying crimson rage. I was saved, but I was also just thrown from the frying pan directly into the fire.