Page 36 of Empress of Savages


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“Mm.” The Mastermind says, “Seems like you’ve got a rope tied up inside your pants.”

They both press tighter against me. The Mastermind’s hips move, twisting and rocking. My quivering pussy is soaking these messed up panties all over again.

“How are you feeling?” the Emperor is not talking to me. He’s asking the Mastermind.

“Well, I don’t know about you,” the voice that buzzes against my back also caresses warm and damp in my ear, “but I’m feeling like a spit-roast.” My throat jams. “Or an Eiffel Tower.”

Both of their hips shove into me at the same time. The Emperor says, “How long since you did a standing sixty nine?”

My neck and my cheeks burn as I realize that he’s asking me.

“No fair,” the Mastermind says. “She can’t possibly know.”

The Emperor chuckles. “She would if it was this morning.”

That’s it. With a shove, I burst free. Water sloshes everywhere, but I don’t care.

“I’m going to shower…” I meant to say ‘and change.’ but I have to cover my mouth

“Excellent,” the Mastermind’s grin would cut silk. “Shall we all come?”

I make it to the bathroom but only just.

There’s nothing in my stomach, but cramps and flashes make me heave over the sink all the same. I turn the shower on to run and I manage to keep the convulsions quiet. They don’t last too long and, apart from a mix of sweet and acid tastes in my mouth, I don’t feel too awful afterward.

I’m worn out and washed out and the shower feels so good, I slide down into the corner.

For a moment, I feel like weeping. I give the moment its due and acknowledge the feelings. then I hug myself and forgivemyself. Then I stand and wash my hair before I take a good, thorough shower.

I have work to do.

The bedroom feels like I walked into the Little House on the Prairie. All the random pieces of clothing I snatched and grabbed don’t add up to a single halfway decent outfit. Nonetheless, they’re what I have and I’ll make them work for me.

The best part of my wardrobe to date is the Sig Sauer, so I’m not interested in wearing anything that isn’t made of strong fabric and that doesn’t have decent pockets. Twelve left in the clip, I remind myself.

From the sports bag, I pull out a khaki belted midi tea dress with big cream buttons and big patch pockets. For now, I see this alternating with the camo outfit and the jeans. One on, one in the wash, one drying.

I’m not sure how to make the boots work with the dress. Maybe nylons and a scarf knotted around my throat. I try it and look in the old mirror. Scratched and fading silver around the edges of the mirror add to the vintage feel. In that context, I’m liking the look. A little blush and a hint of brown eyeshadow and this could work.

Then I realize, this is the first chance I’ve had for a decent look at my face. Looking more carefully into the mirror, I don’t dislike it but I also don’t recognize it. I pull back my hair, away from my face. Still nothing.

I’m relieved that it doesn’t shock me or make me afraid but I hoped that some fragments of memory might have been shaken out of the dark.

Still, it is what it is. I’m okay with me right now. Those assholes outside, that could be another thing. But one way or another, I’m going to get myself through this.

I want them, it’s true. I totally want all three of them. And something crazy deep inside me feels it and believes I can pull that off and have them. All of them. How I could have gotten an idea like that is beyond me.

Well, even if I could pull of a lust-driven fever-dream fantasy like that, surviving has to come first. My plan, such as it was, involved making at least one of them fall in love with me. My Warrior. A kind of a reverse Stockholm syndrome. I believe it could have worked, too. He does have real feelings for me, I know it. The trouble is, I’ve also developed real feelings for him.

That’s not why I got stuck in the hedge, or why I was caught in a downpour. It’s not why a drone spotted me and ratted us out, either. I can’t be in control of any of that. But the other complication is that, I’m definitely having real feelings for the Emperor, too. He scares me in a way that makes me want to totally have him.

They’re complicated and contradictory feelings, but I have to face them. If I’m going to get through this, I won’t do it by kidding myself. I wish I had some clue what my starting point is.

And the Mastermind has been a dirty fascination for me since the first time I heard the dark power in his voice.

The way that all three of them talk and act, I know they’re bad men and I’m afraid they do bad things. The instinctive way that I handled the Sig, though, I must have some connection with bad or dark deeds.

Is that a clue to what my mind is trying to hide from me?

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