Page 259 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 2

For a moment, I feel actual fear. Not of the dean, not really, but it’s finally sinking in just how fucked I truly am. Ducking my head, I slide my gaze over, looking for Master Jeremy. I need to see his face, to know just how much trouble I’m in. But try as I might, he seems nowhere to be found.

Then, another fear settles low in my gut. Has he cast me off? Was this just one step too far, and now I’ll have to deal with a new master? But that can’t be possible. Glancing down at my hand, I study my engagement ring, watching as it flashes in the light. Would he truly give his fiancée over to another man?

Tears dot my eyes, blurring my vision as I continue to stare down at the winking stones. If only I had kept my temper in check. If only I had actually been the obedient, demure submissive Master Jeremy was trying to mold. If only…. Those two words circle about in my brain, drowning out the soft, murmured words from Dean Anderson.

Nothing else would hurt like this, like the knowledge that I’ve messed up so irrevocably that the one man I truly loved would leave me to this pack of wolves. But what else could I think? I didn’t have Dr. Andrew here forcing me to be rational. But then, that is also a blessing. He’s the last dominant I’d want to see before a punishment.

“What do you have to say for yourselves?” The dean’s voice cuts through the fog, pulling me back to the present.

In my mind, I formulate what I’m going to say, thinking of some way to sound repentant but not take all of the blame when Chelsea practically writhes next to me.

“Ask that whore over there. She’s the one that started it!”

Anger burns in my gut as I turn to look at her, mouth agape. “Excuse me? What did you just call me? At least I wasn’t the one chasing after a man who was clearly with someone else. Who’s the whore now?” I try to be civil, I try to keep calm, but with Chelsea, all it takes is one little nudge, and I’m back over the cliff.

I detest what she does to me, what she forces me to do. I’m a nice person, a gentle being who hates seeing anyone in pain or discomfort, and yet, when it comes to her, I cannot seem to keep a civil tongue in my mouth. No doubt if Master Jeremy ever forgives me for this, curbing my anger around Chelsea will be next on his list of training.

“I wasn’t chasing after a man besotted with you,” she counters. “You fucking waltzed in like the damn princess you are, batted your eyelashes, and convinced him to shove me to the side,” she shrieks, once more lunging towards me. “Just be honest and tell it like it is! Everything that’s happened to me is your fucking fault.”

Luckily, Dean Anderson steps in, blocking her path.

“What do you even care,” I screech back. “You’re with the man you want, so what does it matter that Master Jeremy chose me?”

Chapter Two

Chelsea

My eyes blur as I stare at the enemy in front of me. It doesn’t matter that she has a point. It doesn’t matter that I no longer want Master Jeremy but instead long for the hard, masterful touch of Master Grigori. She fucking humiliated me.

She made me out to be a fool, and that’s not something I can easily abide. Before she came to this school, everything was as it should have been. I was the queen bee, the one in charge, and yet, with just a few bats of her eyelashes, all that was stripped away.

I don’t care what they do to me as punishment. It will be worth it to see her suffer the same fate. To be stripped and humiliated before the congregation like I was. Besides, there isn’t any punishment they can do to me that will be worse than whatever Master Grigori has planned for me when I get back home.

“Yes, Kukolka. Why exactly do you care?” As if I’ve conjured the devil himself, Grigori wraps his fingers around the back of my neck.

For a moment, I sway in his touch, relieved that he’s here. “That’s not the point, Master,” I grind out, desperate for him to understand. “I—”

“I don’t give a fuck what you mean. All I know is my beautiful little printsessa just admitted in front of everyone that she still has feelings for another man. What exactly am I supposed to do about that?”

My brain clicks about slowly, trying to make sense of everything. That wasn’t what I meant. How could he still have doubts about my feelings after all the depraved things I’ve endured at his hand… willingly.

“And as for you,” Master Jeremy says to Melody, his voice soft but strong with just a hint of malice. “How dare you behave this way, knowing full well that it reflects on me.” Next to me, Melody shudders, breaking down into tears.

Weak.

Pathetic.

More than likely going to get out of this with her crying alone while I have to suffer the wrath of a much sterner dominant.

It just isn’t fair. None of this is fucking fair. How in the hell does she continue to get everything she wants while I’m stuck with everything else. Not that Grigori is a cast-off or even in the same category as everything else—Grigori is the one bright spot in my life. It’s just that Melody is such a fucking golden child. To The Society, she can do no wrong.

Whereas I’m always the one getting the short end of the stick. Everyone here has already written me off as a bitch brat who can’t mind, so why are they so shocked when I play it up? Give the fucking masses what they want?

They get off on it. Stroking their naughty bits to my punishment, condemning me with their words yet using my actions and the results as their masturbatory fodder. I am sick of it. Sick of everyone misunderstanding me on purpose, twisting my words and action into something it’s not.

I’m just as good a girl as Melody; I’m just not given the same chances to show it. Little miss perfect has everyone twisted around her fingers, and I have to pay the price. It ends now.

Melody and Master Grigori both have it wrong, and I need to find some way to convey that without tripping over my fucking tongue or putting my foot in my mouth… again. After tasting Master Grigori’s dark passion, there’s no way I can ever picture wanting Master Jeremy. They are polar opposites.

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