Shame. That word sits on my skin like a brand. My mother gave it to me young, tightening it around my throat like a collar.
I didn't know how good it would feel to slip it off.
I remember my first time. God, I didn't want it.
Lucien didn't care.
He groaned, heavy and satisfied, while tears ran down my face. His body pressed me flat into the mattress, my hands limp at my sides. My mother's voice was still in my head: *"It's not for your pleasure; just make sure your husband is satisfied."*
I had nodded like the good daughter she raised. But inside me something disagreed My name is Serene. I grew up in a home where women were taught to obey and silence was worshipped. My mother never questioned my father. I was supposed to be like her.
But everyone had their desires.Even as a teenager, I had wet dreams and woke up soaked, panting from dreams I couldn't tell anyone. My thighs clenched, and guilt always stabbed straight through the pleasure. I never dared to finish. I'd pull my hand away, whispering prayers. I was ashamed.
At eighteen, my life was decided for me. Marriage to Lucien.
The day I met him, I cried. Everyone else smiled like I was Lucky. They whispered jealous things about how lucky I was, how they couldn't wait for their husbands to "take them."
I didn't feel lucky. I felt like I was getting caged.
On our wedding night, he asked if I had been "properly taught." Then he pulled out his cock. It was thick and had veins. I had never seen one before, and my stomach dropped with fear.
I froze. He pushed inside anyway. My body split, with raw pain stretching me wide. I cried silently. He groaned like it was heaven.
When he came, he collapsed, rolling away without a glance. I curled up in the bathroom, washing blood and humiliation from between my legs.
The next morning, he bent me over and took me from behind. I whimpered. He said, *"As long as I cum, we're good."*
Two years. Two years of that.
He had wealth, power, and everything I could ever ask for. But I had no voice or choice, also no orgasm.
I learned to be still beneath him. To wear pretty dresses. To smile in photos. To nod at sermons in church about obedience.
But I still dreamed. My body still betrayed me at night. Sometimes my dreams left me trembling harder than anything Lucien ever gave me.
And then Cassandra She was different. She wore whatever she pleased, laughed freely, and drank wine without restriction. She was also married, but not tamed. She became my secret mirror.
One night, while Lucien and her husband traveled, I stayed over.
Her room was… another world. Lingerie, toys, leather straps. She pressed a thong into my hands, silky and indecent.
"Try it," she grinned.
My heart raced. I slid it on. The thin strip cut across my pussy lips, and I gasped, exposed, wrong… but lit alive.
That night I couldn't sleep. The memory of that thong clung to my skin, the sight of her toys burning in my mind.
Then I had moaning.
Loud and Hungry.
I followed it down the hallway, breath shallow. Cassandra's door was open just enough.
She was on the bed. Her legs spread wide. A fat dildo glistening between her thighs. Her head was thrown back. Her body vibrating with waves of pleasure I'd never felt.
I should have left.
I didn't.
I slid down against the wall, hand beneath my nightdress, fingers parting my wetness. The sound of her moans fed me, pulled me deeper. I circled my clit, biting my lip, my body arching as if it had waited years for this moment.
I tasted myself on my fingers. Sweet. Forbidden. My pussy clenched.
"Fuck… I love this," I whispered, shame dripping with every word.
Two fingers inside me. My hips rolling. My body begging for more. I was so close cl I thought I might burst apart.
Then I felt goosebumps.The air shifted.
Someone was watching.
A shadow in the hallway I froze, dripping fingers yanked away, my heart slamming against my ribs.
"Cassandra?" I whispered.
Silence.
Then his voice was low with a hint of darkness yet too calm.
"So… this is the real Serene."