Page 40 of Deliria

Sequins seem to fly everywhere. They ping off the furniture, getting stuck in the thick wool of the carpet.

I cry out, using my hands to cover my exposed flesh, but it’s too late. It’s far too fucking late.

Vincent rises from his chair, a predatory grin spreading across his face. In a slow, deliberate movement, he stubs out his cigar in the silver tray before he takes one step and then another to close the distance between us.

“What the hell are you doing?” I hiss as my eyes dart from father to son.

“What does it look like?” Vincent murmurs as Alex manhandles me over to where an antique snooker table sits.

“No, Alex please…”

My mind flickers to that moment, before. Outside when Vincent, when he… I gulp, realising that assault was not his first.

Alex slams my body down onto the green velvet and as my head smacks into it, stars erupt behind my eyes, stunning me further.

“Dessert is served.” Alex says.

I kick out, I scream, but another blow to my head leaves me dazed enough to become docile.

Vincent grins, leering at me from where he’s standing, stripping out of his suit.

Shadows seem to dance across the room as the lamps turn their movements into a grotesque puppet show.

“Why, why are you doing this?” I gasp as Alex clambers onto the table, manoeuvring me so that I’m now pressed with my back against his chest.

“What else are you good for, Scarlett?” He murmurs in my ear.

I seize up, hating the way my mind turns to panic and not fight. Why the fuck am I not fighting? Why the fuck am I suddenly paralysed?

Vincent climbs up onto the table, looking like he’s some sort of devil coming for my soul. Is this how it played out last time? He smirks like a beast while I lay in the dirt unable to stop him.

I kick out, using my leg to try and keep him away from me, only he snatches at it, digs his fingers into my calf and then forces it up into an angle that leaves me even more exposed.

“You sick piece of…” Alex silences my insult with his hand.

“Good wives should be seen and not heard.” Vincent says as he rips my underwear off and starts touching me, probing me, putting his fingers where they have no right to touch.

I hiss out and try to jerk away, but my husband holds me far too tightly to stand any chance of putting up a decent fight.

“That’s not always true,” Alex says, leaning in to put his lips right by my ear. “Good wives also know when to perform, when to show their husbands what dirty little cumsluts they are…”

“Fuck you.” I scream back from behind his grasp, only that makes him just laugh more.

Makes them both laugh.

And as my eyes land on my father-in-law, I realise with horror that he’s touching himself, manhandling himself, getting himself hard.

He looks down from his cock to me, as if I’m turned on by this, as if I’m entranced by the sight of him masturbating.

“Want to be a good girl and suck me off?” He asks. “Get me nice and hard so I can fuck you the way you like?”

I shake my head. The thought of having his wrinkly cock in my mouth is enough to make me bring up what little food I ate.

Alex laughs again, removing his hand as he manoeuvres me around, “Of course she does. She loves a cock down her throat, don’t you Scarlett?”

“Nooo...”

“Especially my cock.” My father-in-law cuts across me as if I’ve done it before, sucked him off before, been here before, fucking them both willingly.

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