Filed to story: The LORDS Series Free PDF by Shantel Tessier
“Tell her she’s pretty. Tell her you love her.” They all laugh at that. “If that doesn’t convince her, then force her.”
“You can’t force a chosen,” I snap, fighting the guy who is sitting on my back. “That’s why it’s called a chosen. She chooses her Lord.”
He drops to the floor next to me, gripping the back of my neck, his lips by my ear. “Drug her, rip her fucking clothes off and take her. Do whatever you have to do to make her your bitch. Do you understand me?”
“Why her?” I demand through gritted teeth.
“The question is, can you do it? Yes or no?”
“I-“
He shoves my head down into the water, and I fight, screaming into it, sucking some up through my nose, making it burn. Gripping my hair, he yanks my head up, and I gasp through a cough.
“Yes or no?”
“Yes,” I grind out. “I can do it.”
“That’s a good Lord.” He taps the side of my wet face and I pull away the best I can.
I’m yanked to a sitting position, and I take in a deep breath now that the weight is finally off my back. Water drips from my head and hair onto my clothes, and I look up at the man dressed in his cloak and mask. No founders ever reveal themselves. Their lives would be in danger.
“You will be protected,” he assures me.
Why the fuck would I need protection to fuck a chosen? “And the girl?”
“What about her?” he asks.
“Will she be protected?” I demand, getting my breathing under control.
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“How useful she is.”
I hang my head, my wrists pulling on the cuffs. I’ll make sure of it.
He drops a folder in front of me and it slaps on the floor, echoing through the high ceilings and framed arches. “Do your homework, Tyson. You’ve got three weeks before you’re back in this very spot getting wet.”
* * *
I got Whitney Minson.
It wasn’t all that hard, really. I watched her, followed her. Made her see me. Want me. Crave me. I made sure to put myself in every aspect of her life for the past three weeks.
For three years, I’ve had to get myself off. Now she’ll be the one doing it. This very reason is why they make us abstain from sex until our senior year. They want to reward you for your loyalty. What’s more rewarding than saying here, take this girl and fucking use her however you want?
Three weeks ago, I was up here on the second floor of the Cathedral with my hands cuffed and head shoved into the water. But this time, I’m standing in it. It comes up to her chest and I watch her nipples harden behind her white dress. I push her hair back, my fingers lingering a little longer than I should, just taking in the way her breathing picks up. I love the smell of fear.
“I vow.” Her voice trembles as much as her body does against mine.
Her arms are tied behind her back with a zip tie so she can’t fight me when I push her under the water. “You vow,” I announce.
“We vow,” we both say at the same time.
I grip the back of her dark hair so tightly she gasps, making her lips part, and I shove her down into the water-it’s to cleanse her from past sexual partners. A chosen should be as clean as her Lord.
She’s gasping for breath and coughing when I pull her up. I grip the hem of her dress and yank it up all the way to expose her body to the Lords below. She’s not wearing a bra or underwear. I prepared her beforehand. Told her what we must do in order to be together. For me to make her mine.
Grabbing her waist, I spin her around so the front of her body is against the glass that faces the Lords below. Wrapping one arm around her waist, I pull her hips back and use my free hand to grab my cock. I push into her pussy and start to fuck her in front of everyone, knowing that I’ll get to do this all year. Of course, I have ulterior motives as to why I’m here with her today, but only I know that.
Her soft cries and heavy breathing fill the large building. I slap my hand over her mouth, silencing her. Right now is all about me. She’s mine to fuck. A chosen one is a slave to her Lord like the Lord is a servant to his society.
My teeth grind, my breath hitching, remembering how fucking good pussy feels. It’s like I’m getting it for the first time again.
My least favorite place to fuck is in water, but when you’ve been deprived of something that brings so much pleasure, it’s earth shattering.
I feel my balls tighten, and I can’t help but come. Not able to hold out, I don’t care if she got off.
The vow ceremony is to show ownership over our chosen. Not please her.
Pulling out, I remove my hand from her mouth and yank her from the water. We’re both dripping wet. I leave her dress pulled up, exposing her body to my fellow Lords as I walk her down the staircase where we go to sit in the front pew. “Eyes on the floor,” I order in her ear, and she drops her head like the good slut she is.
We’ll wait until every last senior has completed the vow ceremony for their chosen. I’ll take her home and use her all night long. However I want.
Come tomorrow morning, I’ll tie her facedown, naked, with a gag in her mouth and a blindfold over her eyes and leave her there while I go to my classes-pretend they matter. All while livestreaming it to my phone from all the cameras I have set up in my room, just like I was instructed to do.
Make it public.
Use her, fuck her, claim her. She is mine to use as I see fit. Typical chosen, really. Most Lords treat their chosens like slaves. But it’s what I’m supposed to do when I’m not with her that’s so important.
It’s a distraction. Watch me do this while I’m really doing something else.
SIX
TYSON
THREE YEARS LATER
My father always says life is made up of choices, depending on which one you pick, will determine what you get out of life.
My hands curl around the metal railing, looking down over the four-story nightclub. Blackout is a consequence due to one of my life choices.
I was supposed to be a powerful Lord, wear a three-piece suit every day, run a multibillion-dollar company, marry the Lady my parents wanted through an arranged marriage, have kids and a dog. All of that bullshit we’re forced to do to appear “normal” to the public eye.
It’s all a fucking lie. In my world, you can’t believe a damn word you’re told, or anything you see. It boils down to this: you’ll live until you die. It’s that simple.
The lights flash, and the music vibrates the breezeway I stand on. It’s a Friday night, after midnight, and the place is packed. I’ve run Blackout for three years now. The Lords gave it to me when I saw an opportunity and chose a different path than what I was meant for. They’re always willing to give you something in return for your servitude. So I allowed them to chain me to this club for the wife of my choosing.
She hates me. Too bad I don’t give a fuck.
How many marriages do you know where the husband and wife love one another. Not many in my world. It does happen, but it’s rare.
Pushing off the railing, I walk down to the doorway and enter my office, closing out the sound of the bass and the flashing lights. I walk over to my desk and sit down, leaning back in my chair.
I pull out the picture of my soon-to-be wife in my top desk drawer. She stands there with a smile on her face, her brown hair up in a messy bun and bright blue eyes. This was before her life went to shit. Before my life took a change and I decided to take her choices away from her.