The text arrived while Alex was out.
*Come alone or Jake gets everything. 2 hours. My place.*
David had never contacted me directly before.
My hands trembled as I read his address. I knew I shouldn't go.
But the attached video clip of me begging for both men while saying Jake's name left me no choice.
Alex had rules. David, I was learning, only had threats.
I stared at my phone, debating whether to call Alex. He was at an important business meeting. Unreachable for hours. By the time he returned, it would be too late.
Maybe I could handle this myself. Reason with David. Convince him to delete the videos.
I was Alex's property. We both knew that. This was just a negotiation.
I didn't understand yet how wrong I was.
The taxi pulled up to a gleaming high-rise in the financial district. David's building made Alex's luxury penthouse look modest. The doorman nodded as if he'd been expecting me.
"Mr. Reynolds said to send you right up, Ms. Morrison."
My stomach tightened. He'd been planning this.
The private elevator required a keycard. The doorman provided it with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
As the elevator climbed to the penthouse, I caught my reflection in the mirrored walls. I looked terrified.
*Alex would be furious if he knew I was here.*
*David had always been rougher, less controlled when Alex wasn't watching.*
The elevator doors opened directly into David's penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the city below. Minimalist furniture. Cold. Clinical. Nothing like Alex's warm, masculine space.
"Jake's perfect mother," David's voice came from behind me. "Without her keeper."
I turned to face him. He looked different somehow. His usual polished charm replaced by something predatory.
"I got your message," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "We need to talk about those videos."
"Do we?" He circled me slowly. "I thought my message was quite clear."
"This isn't part of our arrangement," I said. "Alex wouldn't—"
"Alex isn't here." David's smile chilled me. "That's rather the point."
He gestured to a wall of security monitors. One showed the building's entrance. Another the elevator. Others displayed different rooms in the penthouse.
"No one knows you're here," he said. "Not Alex. Not Jake. Just us."
"What do you want?" I asked, though I already knew.
"Alex thinks he owns you," David replied, stepping closer. "But ownership can be... transferred."
"We had an arrangement," I said. "The three of us."
"That arrangement has been renegotiated. Without Alex's input."
His hand shot out, gripping my throat. Not like Alex's controlled hold—this was meant to frighten.
It worked.
"What do you want from me?" I whispered.
His thumb traced my lower lip. "Everything he hasn't taken yet. And then everything he has."
I tried to step back. His grip tightened.
"You have a choice," he said. "Submit willingly, or I send everything to Jake right now."
To demonstrate, he pulled out his phone, showing a message already drafted to Jake with videos attached.
"One button," he said. "That's all it takes."
I closed my eyes. "I'll do what you want."
"Good girl." His voice mocked Alex's phrase. "Now follow me."
He led me to a bedroom dominated by mirrors. Every wall, even parts of the ceiling, reflected our images back at us.
"Strip," he ordered.
I hesitated.
"Now," he snapped. "Or should I call Jake?"
My fingers trembled as I unbuttoned my blouse. Removed my skirt. My underwear.
David circled me, inspecting like merchandise.
"Alex has left his marks," he observed, tracing a fading bruise on my hip. "We'll have to replace those."
His touch felt wrong. Clinical. Nothing like Alex's possessive caresses.
"Turn around," he ordered. "Hands on the mirror. Legs spread."
I obeyed, catching my reflection—eyes wide with fear, body exposed and vulnerable.
David positioned himself behind me. "Look at yourself," he commanded. "Don't close your eyes. Watch what happens when someone takes what belongs to Alex."
He entered me without warning, without preparation. The pain was sharp, immediate—not the controlled burn Alex carefully built.
"Too rough?" David mocked, seeing my wince. "Alex treats you too gently. That ends today."
His pace was punishing, each thrust meant to hurt rather than please. Yet somehow, horrifyingly, my body began to respond.
"See?" he hissed, noticing. "Your body knows who should own it."
I closed my eyes, unable to watch my betrayal.
His hand cracked across my face. "Eyes open. Watch yourself being taken properly."
The woman in the mirror was me but not me. Flushed, responding, tears streaming down her face.
"Tell me he doesn't fill you like this," David demanded.
The words caught in my throat. His hand tightened in my hair, pulling until I gasped.
"It's... different," I managed.
His laugh was cold. "Different. We'll work on your honesty."
He reached around, fingers finding my most sensitive spot, circling roughly.
My body's response was immediate, shameful.
"That's it," he growled. "Come for me while thinking of him. Show me how loyal you really are."
I broke, hating myself, hating him, hating the pleasure that crashed through me despite everything.
In the mirror, I watched myself shatter for a man who wasn't Alex.
"Against the wall," David ordered, dragging me from the mirror.
My legs trembled as he lifted one thigh, pinning me with his body. This angle was deeper, more invasive than before.
"Alex never takes you like this, does he?" he growled, his hand finding my throat.
I couldn't answer. Couldn't breathe. His grip tightened just enough to make spots dance in my vision.
The pressure built again, unwanted but unstoppable. My second climax approached faster than the first, my body now betraying me willingly.
"That's it," he hissed. "Come for me again. Show me how loyal you really are to him."
I shattered against the wall, my cry muffled by his punishing kiss.
Before I could recover, he dragged me to my knees.
"Open," he demanded.
I obeyed, too broken to resist. This act—something I'd done for Alex countless times—felt nothing like those encounters. David used my mouth roughly, caring nothing for my comfort.
"Look at me," he ordered.
I raised my eyes, meeting his cold stare.
"This is what you are," he said. "Just a mouth. Just holes to be used."
When he finished on my face, he dragged me back to the mirror.
"Look at yourself," he commanded. "This is who you really are."
The woman in the mirror was unrecognizable. Marked. Used. Broken.
And we had only just begun.
He allowed me a moment to clean my face before pulling me to the bed.
"On your back," he ordered. "Spread your legs. Wider."
I complied, staring at the mirrored ceiling. Nowhere to hide from my own shame.
"Now," David said, positioning himself between my thighs, "let's talk about Alex."
He entered me again, setting a deliberate pace.
"Tell me how he takes you," he demanded.
I turned my head away. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to face him.
"Tell me," he repeated, "or I call Jake right now."
"He's... gentler," I whispered.
"Gentler how?"
"He prepares me first. Makes sure I'm ready."
David laughed. "How considerate. What else?"
With each answer, he adjusted his movements, mocking Alex's techniques.
"Like this?" he would ask. "Or this?"
My body continued its betrayal, responding to the stimulation despite my mental resistance.
"Beg me to let you come," he ordered.
"Please," I whispered.
"Please what?"
"Please let me come."
"Say my name."
"Please, David."
"Tell me you prefer me to Alex."
I hesitated. His hand cracked across my face.
"Say it."
"I prefer you to Alex," I lied, the words like ash in my mouth.
"Liar," he hissed, but allowed his fingers to circle my most sensitive spot. "Come for me anyway. Show me what a whore you really are."
The third climax hit harder than the previous ones, my body now conditioned to respond to his touch.
He flipped me suddenly, pinning me completely beneath him. His weight crushed me into the mattress, his grip painful on my wrists.
"Say his name," he ordered, thrusting harder.
"What?" I gasped, confused.
"Say Alex's name while I make you come. I want to record your betrayal."
I noticed the phone positioned on the nightstand, camera aimed at my face.
"No," I whispered.
His hand found my throat again. "Do it."
As the pressure built again, I couldn't fight my body's response. When the climax crashed through me, Alex's name escaped my lips—a desperate, broken sound.
David's smile was triumphant. "Perfect."
He pulled out abruptly. "Time for the next lesson."
I lay there, trying to catch my breath, as he retrieved something from a closet.
"Follow me," he ordered.
On shaking legs, I followed him to another room. This one contained equipment I'd never seen before—not even in Alex's collection. A ceiling hook with dangling restraints. A padded bench with straps. A wall of implements that made me step back involuntarily.
"Alex plays at dominance," David said, selecting a riding crop. "I live it."
The restraints bit into my wrists as he hung me from the ceiling hook, toes barely touching the floor.
"Alex's marks are fading," David observed, circling me with the crop. "Time for some new ones."
The first strike landed across my breasts, precisely where Alex had left gentle bite marks days before.
"One," I counted automatically, as Alex had trained me.
David laughed. "Good girl. He trained you well. But not well enough."
By the tenth strike, I was panting. By the twentieth, tears streamed freely.
"You're getting wet," he observed clinically. "Pain turns you on. Alex knows this, doesn't he?"
I didn't answer. Couldn't admit how differently Alex used pain—as enhancement, not punishment.
The crop landed between my thighs, a sharp sting against my most sensitive flesh.
I cried out, my body jerking in the restraints.
"Almost there," David murmured, striking again in the same spot.
The confusion of pain and stimulation built to an unbearable peak. When the climax hit, it was violent, unwanted, and humiliating.
"Perfect," David said, photographing my face. "Now for something more... permanent."
He released me from the hook only to bend me over a padded bench, securing my wrists and ankles to its legs.
The cane whistled through the air before landing in a fiery line across my thighs.
"These marks will last," David promised. "Alex will see them every time he touches you."
Between sets of strikes, David would enter me roughly, using the pain-heightened sensitivity to force another response.
"Feel how wet you are?" he taunted. "Your body knows who owns it now."
By the time he secured me spread-eagle on the bed, I'd lost count of my climaxes. Each one left me more hollow, more disconnected from myself.
The clamps on my nipples sent sharp pain radiating through my chest. The vibrator he pressed against me was set too high, too intense.
"No more," I begged as another orgasm approached. "Please."
"You don't decide when it stops," he replied, increasing the intensity. "Only I do."
The final climax wasn't pleasure—it was surrender. My body convulsing beyond my control, my mind floating somewhere above the scene.
David recorded every second, every involuntary response.
"This," he said, reviewing the footage, "is what will break Alex. Seeing you come for me more times than you ever did for him."
He released me from the restraints, but I could barely move. Every muscle ached. Welts and marks covered my body.
"We're not done," he said, dragging me back to the main room. "One final scene for our collection."
He positioned me on my knees before a large camera setup.
"You're going to record a message for Alex," he explained. "Telling him exactly who you belong to now."
"I can't," I whispered.
He showed me his phone again—the message to Jake ready to send.
"You will," he said. "And make it convincing."
The red light blinked on. David stood behind the camera, directing me.
"Tell Alex who you belong to now."
My voice shook. "I belong to David."
"And what about Alex?"
"He... he never satisfied me like you do."
Each lie burned my throat, but I had no choice.
"Tell him what you've learned today."
"I've learned that I... that I needed to be taken properly. Used properly."
David smiled. "Perfect. He'll love watching this."
"You're sending this to him?" I asked, panic rising.
"Of course. Breaking his toy is half the fun."
After the recording, David took me one final time—from behind, in the position Alex preferred. It felt like a deliberate desecration.
"This is how he takes you, isn't it?" David taunted. "His favorite way to claim you."
I said nothing, enduring the final humiliation as David marked me internally, finishing with a groan of triumph.
Afterward, he threw my clothes at me. "Get dressed. We're not done yet."
I pulled on my clothes with trembling hands, every movement painful against my marked skin.
"Now," David said, handing me my phone, "text Alex."
"What?"
"Text him. Tell him to come here."
"Why would he—"
"Because you'll tell him you're in trouble. That you need him."
I stared at him in horror. "You're setting a trap for him."
"Very good," David smiled. "Now do it, or Jake gets everything right now."
With shaking fingers, I typed: *David has me at his apartment. He's threatening to expose everything. Please help.*
David read it and nodded. "Send it."
I pressed send, sick with fear for what would happen when Alex arrived.
"Now we wait," David said, pouring himself a drink. "He'll come running to save his precious property."
"Why are you doing this?" I asked.
"Because Alex has always had everything too easily," David replied. "His money. His success. His women. It's time he learned what it feels like to lose."
I realized then that this had never been about me. I was just the battlefield for their rivalry.
Twenty minutes later, the security monitor showed Alex entering the building.
David's grip tightened around my arm. "Showtime," he whispered, dragging me to the entryway.
The elevator chimed.
I heard the apartment door open, footsteps in the hallway.
"Lisa?" Alex's voice.
My heart stopped.
David had set his trap, and Alex had walked right into it.
All because of me.