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Emerson’s heart races in her chest as she tries to work up the courage to walk through the double doors that hold the people she once loved most in the world.

Music loudly blares from behind her, and she tries to ignore the people who are walking around and throwing her weird glances. They’re most likely wondering why someone like her is standing in front of a door that holds the men whom own the club she is currently in, and who are widely known for selling drugs to people throughout the city.

Emerson Leer does not look like the type of person who would engage in such activities. She is a small, dainty young woman, who rests just at 5’2. She has long, golden hair, and has a face that embodies innocence. With her full, pouty lips, button nose, light green eyes that are always covered by thin, round glasses—she doesn’t look like the type of person who commonly enters a room that holds drug dealers.

Be that as it may, she insists upon being brave enough to go in there tonight. Despite how hard her hands are shaking, how fast her heart is thumping in her small chest, and how her breath quickens with every passing second as her anxiety increases.

She’s terrified.

Any normal person would be scared of entering the room, considering the four men within are well known, powerful figures in the city.

But Emerson Leer is not exactly a normal person.

She is afraid, yes. But not for reasons one may assume.

She’s scared because she knows the men within those doors. She knows them personally. Intimately.

After all, she did date them for almost a year.

All four of them were her first boyfriends. They taught her what a polyamorous relashinship was. They taught her everything, really.

Before them, she had never been kissed, never been touched, never been fucked. She was the type of girl to blush every time the word sex was mentioned. She still is, really. She didn’t know anything about DDLG, nor about dominant and submissive relationships. But they changed that. They changed everything.

For those wonderful eleven months that they were together, it was the happiest moments of Emerson's life. She loved them more than she loved herself. She would’ve done anything for them. As they would’ve her.

But alas, they broke up three months ago. For reasons that Emerson doesn’t want to begin thinking about.

Emerson slowly takes in a shaky breath. In six seconds, hold for four, out seven. She reaches into the pocket of her flowy, baby pink dress and grasps the crinkled money that her friend had given her.

Olive, Emerson’s friend. She is the reason why the shaky girl has to now see her ex’s after having not responded to their calls and texts for three months.

Olive has been Emerson’s friend for about three years now, the girls went to high school together and made sure to keep in touch once they graduated. And while Olive is a good friend, she does have a slight drug problem.

When Emerson started dating them, they cut Olive off from buying from them, solely because they didn’t approve of one of Emerson’s friends actively using drugs. They didn’t want Olive to influence Emerson, and while they knew Olive would more likely find somewhere else to get the drugs, they still wanted to discourage her.

Which it didn't, obviously, considering the predicament Emerson finds herself in.

Olive’s usual dealer is unavailable, so she begged Emerson to go to them and buy the drugs for her, because she knew Emerson could never say no to a friend in need, even if it was to support her nasty habits.

That’s how she came to be standing in front of the door that holds the men she hoped she would never have to see again. Even if she missed them terribly.

The girl pulls out the money Olive had given her and frowns as she sees the wrinkled, creased shape that the thin paper is in. She tries to smooth it out, but the money stays unneat and dirty. Emerson sighs and puts it back into her pocket, tightly shutting her eyes as a familiar feeling creeps up her neck.

Emerson has always liked her things a certain way. Her room, clean. Her bed, made. Her papers, unwrinkled and perfectly straight. Her undiagnosed OCD has only gotten worse as the years go by. If something isn’t perfectly to her liking, she might have a complete breakdown. The wadded up money currently in her pocket makes her feel tingly and dirty.

In six seconds, hold for four, out seven.

The girl reaches up her shaking hand and balls it up in a small fist. She only hesitates briefly before bringing her hand down and firmly knocking on the door, hoping it sounds as if she is much more confident than she currently is.

She winces as her knuckles feel a twinge of pain from the wooden door. She never liked being in unnecessary pain. Unless it was by their hand, of course.

“Come in.”

Lucifer. His strong, stern voice sounds through the door. It makes her momentarily freeze up and she has to quickly remind herself to open the door before they get impatient.

Her heart is in her throat as she pushes the door open and is greeted with the familiar presence of their private room where they hold their transactions within the club.

Her eyes land on the man sitting on one of the luxurious chairs sitting off to the side of the room. He’s looking down at his phone, with one arm slung over the back of the chair, and one of his ankles is propped up on his opposite knee.

The sight of him makes her heart ache. She remembers what it was like to be in their arms. With them, there was constant physical contact-she was rarely left untouched. And since they broke up, hardly anyone bothers to touch her at all. Her few friends aren’t the touchy-feely type, so she can’t help but miss the basic physical contact.

A quick glance around the room makes her let out a breath when she realizes the other three men are nowhere to be found. It’s just Lucifer.

And while she would much prefer it would be Sorin in the room, considering he always was the nicest, and less intimidating one of the group; but she’s still filled with relief to know she only has to speak to one of them.

When her eyes land back on him, she jumps slightly when she finds his gaze locked firmly on her. His intense eyes looking her over, yet not betraying any of his emotions.

She watches as his eyes track down her body, scanning over her body slowly.

Her wide eyes meet his again and neither of them say anything for a few moments.

She gulps. “H-Hi.”

She looks to the ground, not wanting to meet his eyes.

The action makes her remember all the times they scolded her for not looking at them when she spoke. It was one of the many rules they had established in their relationship.

“Emerson.” Her name coming from him makes a warm feeling well up in her chest. “What are you doing here?” His tone is cold, passive. The feeling of warmth is quickly replaced with hurt, even if she has no right to be hurt.

She brings her hands in front of her and begins nervously playing with her fingers. She softly clears her throat. “I’m h-here to, um, buy some stuff from y-you.”

She curses herself for stuttering. She glances up in time to see Lucifer raise his eyebrows. She thinks she sees a flicker of hurt flash across his face, but it happens too fast for her to be sure.

“Is that so?” He turns off his phone and slips it in his pocket. He gestures to the long couch that is next to the chair that he is residing in. “Sit down.”

Emerson feels her feet moving obediently before her mind processes what he really said. She reaches the couch and slowly sits down, feeling the cold leather bit into her legs, making her raise them a bit off the couch. Lucifer sees the action, but makes no comment. He must remember all the times she whined about the leather being too cold, and so she would always be on one of their laps whenever they were in here. Or she would be on her knees on the floor.

Her dress had ridden up, exposing her thighs a bit more than she would like. She reaches down and tries to tug the fabric further down her legs, wanting to cover as much exposed skin as possible. She feels Lucifer watching her every move, and she nibbles her bottom lip as she wishes she had worn something that covered more of her skin.

Lucifer leans back, moving his other arm to rest over the arm of the couch. He fixes her with his businesslike stare.

“What do you need?”

His voice sends shivers down her spine. On reflex, she starts squirming slightly. She doesn’t like how he’s talking to her as if she is just one of his clients. She didn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t this.

In all honesty, a small part of her thought they would refuse to sell to her, considering they were always so adamant about not wanting her to try drugs. And if she did want to try them, they insisted she would try them with them, so they would know she was being safe.

“An o-ounce of majana.” Her voice is quiet, almost down to a whisper. It displays how nervous she really is.

Lucifer makes a humming noise. “Since when do you use drugs?”

Emersons heartbeat quickens. She tries to shrug her shoulders nonchalantly. “I tried it recently a-and liked it, t-that’s all.”

She hopes she sounds more believable than she actually is.

Lucifer cocks his head to the side. “Really.”

He doesn’t say it as a question, or even as if he’s surprised. He says it in a monotone voice.

She looks at her lap as she makes a sound of agreement, trying to seem casual.

She hears Lucifer sigh deeply. “Answer me properly, Emerson.”

His stern voice makes a familiar fluttery sensation enter her stomach. She squeezes her legs together, trying to discreetly relieve tension.

She shyly raises her eyes, looking at him nervously. “Y-Yeah. Really.”

She doesn’t sound confident at all. She sounds like a frightened little girl who knows she’s going to get in trouble.

Not to mention that she doesn’t even sound believable. She always was a horrible liar, especially with them. Another one of their rules was no lying. And considering she was always their good girl, she never really got to practice lying to them.

Neither Emerson nor Lucifer have time to say anything else, because the double doors leading to this room suddenly swing open and three familiar faces enter the room.

No, no, no. She chants in her head. Sinking back into the cold leather as her terrified doe-like eyes fall onto the three other men.

They don’t seem to see her at first, but when they do, they stop walking and openly stare. She looks back to them, a terrified expression on her face. Sorin is the first to react, his eye brows furrow slightly as he steps forward, a hopeful expression on his face.

He opens his mouth to say something, but Lucifer quickly cuts him off, “Emerson has come to buy some weed.”

All three of the men’s expressions change, Sorin looks at her blankly. While Ellias and Denzel both narrow their eyes at her, visibly annoyed.

After multiple more moments of silence, Lucifer speaks again, “She’s taken it up as a hobby, apparently.”

Emerson’s cheeks flush, and she looks down in embarrassment. The way Lucifer spoke had a condescending, judgemental tone to it. It makes her heart twist in an uncomfortable way. Him and Denzel were always the meanest of the group, but they were still always nice to the young girl, even before they started dating.

She looks back down to her lap, not wanting to see their expressions.

Denzel is the first to move, he casually goes over to the chair opposite from Lucifer, which is also on the other side of the couch that Emerson is currently at. So she’s sat directly in the middle of Lucifer and Denzel.

Ellias and Sorin soon follow, but both of them choose to sit on the couch, both sitting on either side of her. Ellias sits on the side closest to Denzel, and Sorin sits on the side near Lucifer. Their presence is making her feel crowded and even more intimidated than she previously was.

No one says anything for quite a while longer. And she glances up through her glasses to see Ellias and Denzel looking her over, scanning over her body like how Lucifer was when she first entered the room. Her face warms at the feeling of their heated stares on her body.

Ellias eyes go to hers, making her heart stammer in her chest. He is the next to speak. “And why have you decided that using drugs shall be your next hobby?” His voice is almost scary, and it seems like there is a blatant threat behind his words.

Her eyes fall on his hands. One of his hands is resting on his thigh, and pretty silver rings decorate his fingers as he rhythmically taps his pointer finger against his leg in annoyance.

She crosses her ankles together, wanting a reason to keep her legs tightly close together. She shrugs again and looks down, letting her hair fall down in front of her face.

She sees Ellias’s hand twitch in his lap before he makes a tight fist and sighs deeply. He’s likely refraining from forcing the girl's head up to face him and making her give him an actual response.

Sorin speaks up next, confusion and slight hurt evident in his tone. “You never showed interest in anything like this before, why now?” His attempt at getting a response from the girl is in vain. She didn’t think ahead on what to say if they questioned her, and she doesn’t want to make up a lie on the spot.

She chooses to ignore Sorin, despite the feeling in her chest that protests, and tells her it will only hurt him more.

She looks to Lucifer, finally willingly maintaining eye contact with him for the first time since she entered the room. “C-Can I just get it and leave, please?”

Denzel interrupts before Lucifer has time to respond, his deep voice making her skin tingle and face flush. “Answer him.”

Emerson feels her hands start to shake more violently as she tries to keep herself composed. She fights with herself as she does her best to resist obeying him.

Her soft voice shakes and she speaks. “It’s none of y-your business.” She directly addresses Lucifer again, “Can we just f-finish this up?”

She has to stop herself from saying please at the end. But if she continues to act as if they have a right to boss her around and command her to say and do things, then there’s no way she will get through this night.

Lucifer slowly sighs and takes his time before responding. He glances over her shoulder, likely looking at Denzel.

“Fine.” He proceeds to pull out his phone and shoot a quick text. To whom Emerson assumes is Lorance, the man who is in charge of bringing all of the merchandise from the basement up to this room. Lucifer slips his phone back into his pocket.

Emerson takes the time to reach into her dress pocket and pull out the dirty, wrinkled bill, before holding it out to Lucifer.

She watches as Lucifer’s eyes go down to the money and stay there for a few seconds before they go back to hers, and a somewhat amused, pleased expression finds its way across his face.

Emerson licks her dry lips, her arm growing tired as she feels more foolish by the minute, with her arm held out to him, holding the folded up money.

She feels the rest of the guy’s eyes on her, and then she hears Ellias let out a humorless laugh from behind her. She looks over to him and sees a small smirk playing on his lips as he relaxes comfortably against the couch.

She looks around, confused at the sudden change of emotion in the room.

Her confusion is ignored as both Lucifer and Ellias continue looking at her slightly smugly, and as if they know something that she does not.

She looks to Sorin, feeling anxiety growing under skin. He always was the softest one in the group. She hopes she can still rely on him to tell her what's going on.

He meets her eyes with pursed lips and disapproval swirling in his eyes.

Her panic grows. Despite not being with them anymore, she hates disappointing them. Especially Sorin. Whenever she upsets him, she really knows she’s done something wrong.

“The weed isn’t for you, is it?” Sorin’s eyes search hers as he speaks.

Her lips part and she finally lowers her tired arm to rest on her bare knee. She thought she was being somewhat believable.

“I- what? O-Of course it’s f-for me. Who e-else would it be for?”

Ellias lets out another chuckle, only succeeding in scaring her more.

She looks back over to him, and is slightly startled to see he’s much closer to her than he was a few minutes ago. He reaches over and plucks the money out of her hand. His warm fingers brush over her bare knee and she sucks in a breath, jolting slightly at the tingles his touch leaves behind.

He holds it up to her eye level. “You really don’t think much of us, do you?”

Her nose wrinkles in confusion, and she brings a trembling hand up to her face to push her glasses further up on her nose.

She whispers, for once not stuttering, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Lucifer sighs for what seems like the hundredth time tonight. “I take it back, you’re not leaving here unless you answer some of our questions.”

While Emerson knows that when he says leaving here he means leaving here with the weed. But a small part of her can’t help but wonder if they really won’t let her leave at all until she speaks with them.

Lucifer continues, “So, Emerson.” He looks at her, his eyes seeming to be more dangerous than they were five minutes ago. “Tell us, exactly, how you found yourself buying weed on a Friday evening.”

The girl gulps as she reminds herself why she's here in the first place. Doing it for Olive.

“Oh, y-you know. I-I’ve just changed. I’ve b-been trying new things.”

Goodness, she’s a horrible liar.

Ellias rolls his eyes, annoyance covering his pretty face. “Changed, have you? So you’re not an innocent little princess anymore?”

The tightness in her chest only increases. Ellias’s nickname for her was always Princess. Saying no to his question is like saying she is no longer his anymore. Which she’s technically not, but it still hurts.

Her voice waivers, “N-Nope.”

Denzel speaks next, and he almost sounds as if he is mocking her, “What other new things have you tried?”

She clears her throat. “S-Stuff.”

Ellias flexes his hand. If she dared act like this when they were still together, she would’ve immediately gotten a punishment. She wonders how far she can push them.

“Yeah?” Denzel drones on, “Have you fucked anyone else?”

She can’t help the small, surprised squeak that escapes her. Her stomach automatically clenches, making her face become a lovely shade of pink.

She sees Sorin’s head snap over to Denzel, and she can imagine the glare he’s giving him.

Emerson wants to tell him it’s none of his business, but that feels like it’s the same thing as her saying yes. And she doesn’t want to hurt them anymore than she already has.

“N-No.”

Silence meets her. And her eyes automatically go back to her lap.

“Why not?” Lucifer’s voice sounds relieved, and genuinely curious.

She decides to give them a truthful answer for the first time tonight, “I-I don’t want to. And I d-don’t trust anyone else.”

She cringes as soon as the word else leaves her lips. She feels like that word is implying that she still trusts them. Which she does, but only to an extent.

Denzel doesn’t speak again after that, he seems to have gotten the answers he wanted.

No one says anything for a few more moments, but then Ellias holds up the wrinkled money again. “Tell us again, who was the weed for?”

A flicker of doubt goes off in her chest. Why do they keep asking her that? “M-Me.”

Ellias finally loses his composure, “Stop it,” He harshly snaps, moving closer to her and reaching his hand up, as if to gasp her face in his big hand.

“Stop being such a fucking brat and tell us the truth.”

Emerson quickly backs away from him.

She bumps into Sorin, and is grateful when he lays a protective hand on her waist and pulls her backwards into him.

The contact makes her skin feel tingly and heart rate picks up.

Elllias is not so easily deterred. He moves so his leg is pushed against hers, and his calloused hand finds her delicate throat. “Lie one more fucking time. I dare you.”

She has to refrain from whimpering at the feeling of his dominating hands on her skin. His grip is tight, but it’s only pushing on the sides of her throat, so it’s not cutting off her airways. She leans all the way back and is now pushed right up against Sorin’s warm chest.

She can’t help herself when she whispers out a quiet, “M’sorry.” The submissive in her just wants to obey them and give them what they want.

Lucifer’s voice interrupts them, “Ellias.” There’s a hint of a warning behind it. They all know that the threat behind Ellias’s words is very real.

Ellias roughly sighs. “Stop lying to us. Just tell us who you’re buying it for.”

She sniffles, trying to pull herself together. “H-How do you even k-know it’s not for me?” She mumbles quietly, averting her eyes from Ellias’s.

Sorin gently rubs her waist as he speaks softly in her ear. “Because you’re always so particular about your things. You hate when any type of paper isn’t completely straight. Including money. You would never pay for something with such an unkept bill.”

She blinks in surprise and her mouth parts. She should’ve known that they wouldn’t let something like that go by them. They know her too well for that.

She squirms slightly in her seat. She suddenly feels overstimulated with the way both the men are touching her.

“O-Olive.” She answers, “I w-was getting it for Olive.”

Ellias runs his thumb back and forth along her throat, making her jump and try to back away from his hands. “Good girl.”

Oh. Her chest suddenly feels lighter as she suddenly feels better than she did before.

She has always loved praise. And when it came from them, it felt like she was on cloud nine. Since they’ve been apart, she’s especially missed it.

His thumb continues moving along her neck, and Sorins hand is massaging her waist. It suddenly begins to feel like too much after going months without hardly any physical contact.

A noise escapes her. “C-Can you p-please let go of me?”

Ellias and Sorin must take her words as a form of rejection, because hurt dances across Ellias’s face as he quickly releases her and moves back. Sorin also hastily shifts away from her.

She quickly tries to explain herself, “W-Wait, I’m sorry, I just-”

Ellias cuts her off, looking to the front of the room. “It’s okay, Emerson. You do not have to explain yourself.”

Panic blooms across her chest. “No, it’s just, w-well, I haven’t been, um, t-touched, a-a-lot and so. . .” She trails off, not really knowing what to say.

Sorin, like usual, comes to her rescue. “So you’re sensitive?” He prompts, and Emerson immediately nods her head, yes. “That’s okay, Sweetheart.”

She sees a small smirk dance across Denzel’s face when Sorin says the word sensitive.

Her face burns when he catches her eyes and looks at her somewhat suggestively.

“Sensitive, Emerson?” Denzel drawls, “Has the little baby missed being fucked?”

She looks down, thankful for her long hair when it covers most of her red face. Ugh, why does he keep bringing that up.

She squirms in her seat, suddenly the leather feels too hot, rather than too cold.

Truthfully, Emerson has been sensitive in the aspect of basic physical touch, as well as . . . her lower parts.

When she was with them, they were constantly touching her cunt and making her come. She was basically having at least a couple orgasms a day. But since they broke up? Nothing.

Not that she hasn’t tried to pleasure herself. Because she has. But she just can’t make herself reach a climax. Before them, she didn’t even really know what an orgasm was. So she didn’t know how to touch herself. And with them, she still never had to touch herself because they would do it for her. So when she’s tried it since they’ve broken up, it just doesn’t feel the same as when they touched her.

So yes, she actually has missed being fucked. She’s missed it terribly.

Lucifer clears his throat, breaking her out of her thoughts. “He asked you a question, Emerson.”

Her eyes snapped up to his. He stares at her, daring her to answer.

She wonders, what do they want her to say? Do they want her to say yes? And if that’s what she says, what will they do?

She looks over to Sorin in hopes that he will intervene and help her out. But he merely looks to her, waiting for her answer.

Denzel must deem she is taking too long to respond, because he pushes himself up from the chair he was sitting at and slowly walks over to her.

The flustered girl looks at him with wide-eyes as he stands in front of her and leans down, propping his hand up on either side of her head at the top of the couch. His minty breath fans across her face.

“Hm?”

She opens her mouth, but then closes it and gulps, not really knowing what to say.

She squirms, feeling Denzel’s overwhelming presence crowding her.

“I- It’s none of-of your b-buiness.” Her tone becomes pleading. “C-Can I p-please just get the s-stuff for Olive and l-leave? Please?”

Ellias is suddenly beside her, gently moving her hair behind her and brushing his fingers over her neck. “You can leave anytime you want.”

She whines, “T-That’s not fair. I need to g-get the stuff for O-Olive.”

She sees Ellias shrug out of the corner of her eye. “Not our problem.”

The girl whimpers as Ellias’s hand grips her hair and tugs her head back, forcing her to look at Denzel.

Denzel watches her, still waiting for an answer.

“Da- Denzel.” She whines, hoping for him to let it go.

Sorin surprises her by placing a hand on her exposed thigh. She hadn’t realized her dress had ridden up.

She shuts her eyes, loving the feeling of Sorin’s hand stroking her silky skin.

“Emerson,” Sorin murmurs into her ear, placing a gentle kiss on the side of her neck. There’s a hint of a warning in his tone, reminding her she needs to answer Denzel’s question.

She huffs, “Y-Yes, okay? I missed it. I really missed it.” She sniffles, “C-Can I go now?”

“Just a few more questions, little one.” Denzel replies.

“Have you been taking care of yourself?” Ellias asks, still gripping her hair in his fist.

Emerson furrows her eyebrows. “Y-Yes?” She’s not entirely sure what he means.

“He means,” Lucifer says from the chair he’s still sitting at, “Have you been having an adequate amount of orgasms every day?”

Emerson’s mind fails her as her head goes empty for a few moments.

“O-Oh.” Is the best response she can come up with.

But that doesn’t seem to please Ellias.

“Oh? What do you mean, oh?” He tugs her hair, forcing her to turn and look into his narrowed eyes.

“Oh, um, you know. I-I just, uh . . .”

She trails off, not knowing what to say.

“Have you not been pleasuring yourself?” Sorin’s concerned voice comes from her other side, worried as ever.

Her ears go pink. “I-I just don’t really, um, know how.” She bites her lip. “I-It doesn’t really feel g-good when I do it.”

Silence greets her. She can’t tell what they’re thinking, and she doesn’t know if she even wants to know.

“You haven’t had an orgasm for three months?” Ellias exclaims.

She tries to defend herself, “W-Well I’ve tried, I j-just don’t think I’m really doing i-it right.”

From the corner of her eye, she sees Lucifer pinch the bridge of his nose. “Jesus christ.”

Sorin’s hand suddenly starts stroking further up on her thigh, causing her dress to bunch up.

Before any of them can say anything else, she whispers out, “Please can I j-just go?”

Not that she really wants to leave, but she does want to get out of here before they can continue questioning her.

Ellias tugs her hair. “What’s the hurry, Sweetheart? Don’t you wanna show us how wet you are?”

Sorin's hand now massages the inside of her thigh. She shuts her eyes as her legs automatically part to give him easier access.

“No,” She whines, “M’not wet. I’m not.”

Denzel brings one of his hands to softly caress her face. Her eyes flutter open at the intimate touch. “Are you lying, baby?”

She doesn’t respond, just continues to stare at him with her lips parted.

“Because if we find out you’re lying,” He continues, leaning in closer, “You’re going to be in very much trouble.”

Sorin's hand finally reaches her panties, his big thumb brushes right up against her clit.

She jolts forward and grips his wrist in one of her hands. “W-Wait.”

“Yes?” Denzel prompts, raising his eyebrows at her. She blushes, “I am wet.” She refrains from bucking into Sorin’s hand. “Like r-really wet.”

She hopes by coming clean to them now, she doesn’t get in trouble later.

A smirk dances at the edge of Denzel’s lips. “That so?” Denzel glances over to Sorin, and that must be some kind of signal because seconds later, Sorin’s pointer finger slips past her panties and makes a small swipe up her folds.

She gasps and moves her hips forward, trying to grind her cunt on his hand. But the contact is immediately taken away when Sorin moves his hand out from under her dress and he holds up his wet finger for his friends to see.

She lets out a small, “Oh,” As she sees her wetness glistening from his finger.

Ellias chuckles in her ear. “Look at how needy you are, baby.”

Sorin brings his hand forward and rests his finger against her lips.

He watches as his girl opens her mouth and gently sucks his finger.

He inhales sharply, feeling his cock harden at the feeling of her lips around his finger.

Denzel brings both of his hands down to her waist, he rests them there as he waits for her to finish sucking on Sorin’s finger.

When she’s finished he finally just plucks her up off the couch, making her squeak in surprise, “Denzel!”

He pays her no mind as she squirms around in his hold.

He easily overpowers her as he mandahnles her, forcing her to sit on his lap as he sits in the chair that he was previously in.

He stops her squirming by gripping her waist, holding her hips down against him, He reaches around with his other hand and grabs her throat, pinning her to his chest.

“Now, Sweetheart,” He breathes into her ear, “You’ve been acting like a disrespectful little brat ever since you’ve got here, so I think it’s about time we put some manners back into our girl, yeah?”

Her little eyes go wide as her glasses slip further down her nose.

“You have two options,” He continues, “You can either put on a little show for us, or you can have a spanking. What will it be?”

Her breath gets lodged in her throat. “I- W-What? Please, I w-wasn’t-”

Denzel cuts her off, gripping her throat more tightly in his palm. “Shut up. Choose, or we will choose for you.”

Her heart is pounding almost painfully in her chest. Denzel can probably feel her erratic pulse under his hand.

She brings her hand up and adjusts her glasses, then brings it down to rest on Denzel's wrist, trying to tug his hand away from her neck.

“W-What type of show?” She softly says, wanting to know what, exactly she would be getting into.

She sees Ellias cross his arms over his broad chest and lean back into the couch. “You’ll have to wait and find out.”

She huffs. “T-That’s not fair.”

Ellias’s jaw clenches, and Lucifer’s eyes flare as he addresses her, “You want to talk about fair? What’s not fair is you coming in here looking like that, asking us for fucking drugs after spending three fucking months of ignoring out calls and texts.” He seethes, his fist clenching the arm of the chair in anger. “Then you have the fucking audacity to act like a disrespecful little brat the entire time, breaking who knows how many rules.” He lets out a breath, leaning back into the chair with his gaze still filming locked on hers. “I think you deserve a much harsher punishment than what Denzel has offered. In fact, I would say it would be fair for you to get a spanking, as well as put on a little show for us. It’s the least you deserve after how you’ve acted.”

She can just sit there, trembling in Denzel's arms, staring at Lucifer.

She can’t even defend herself, because everything he said was true. She has been ignoring their calls and texts, and she should’ve known coming here tonight was a bad idea.

“I-I’m sorry.” She whispers, “I didn’t want t-to ignore you, b-but with how t-thing ended, I-I thought . . .” She trails off, her bottom lip trembling slightly.

Lucifer sighs. “If you wouldn’t have acted like a little brat and just picked up the goddamn phone, you would’ve realized we didn’t even want things to end.”

Her breath leaves her. Does that mean that they want to get back together?

“I’m sorry,” She repeats softly.

Denzel stokes his pointer finger along her neck. “Show us how sorry you are by taking your punishment like a good girl, yeah?”

She slowly nods her head, prepared for whatever he decides to do to her.

“Words, Emerson.”

Her tummy begins to feel fluttery. “Y-Yes.”

Denzel’s husky voice sounds right above her ear, “Yes, what?

Her face goes pink. “Yes, Daddy.” She whispers.

He hums from above her, “Good baby.”

His grip on her neck loosens as he brings his hands up to gently move her glasses off of her face. He takes them off, folding them and setting them down on the coffee table next to them. Then he moves his hands to her waist, lifting her up and lays over his knee, with her bottom sticking out. He moves his leg so his thigh is resting over the back of her legs, effectively pinning her in place. She blushes at the demeaning position, feeling her dress ride up on her thighs, showing the men in the room the bottom of her lacy white panties.

Denzel's hand lightly traces the backs of her thigh. His fingers brush her exposed skin directly under her dress.

He lays his other hand on her lower back, making her spine arch and push her ass further out.

“You sure you’re okay with this, Emerson?”

Her small hands clutch his leg, glad that she has something to hold onto. “Yes, Daddy.”

His hand on her thighs finally slips under her dress, caressing her bottom. She holds her breath as he flips up her dress, fully exposing her bottom.

“Tell me your safewords.”

She shudders at the feeling of his hand gently massaging her backside. “R-Red, green, and yellow, Daddy.”

His hand finds its way in between her thighs, and he nudges her legs apart a little, allowing them to see her panty-coverd cunt.

“How many do you think you should get, Sweetheart?”

She thinks for a moment, then turns her head to look at Lucifer in question.

A satisfied smirk plays at the edge of his lips. “Twenty-six.” He states, making her wince slightly. She probably shouldn’t have let him pick for her, he is the most sadistic one in the group. But she does want to make it up to him, so by suffering through the punishment she should be back into his good-graces. “Then you’ll come over to me and I’ll make you feel good, yeah?” He says, calming her down slightly knowing he’ll care for her after this.

“O-Okay.” She agrees, nervously. She’s at least glad that he picked a good number; twenty-six is thirteen plus thirteen, and her favorite number is thirteen, so at least that worked out.

She gets no warning before the first smack comes down on her. She lets out a surprised cry at the force of it and she grabs Denzel’s leg harder in her little hands.

Smack, smack, smack.

Denzel rains down hits one after another in quick succession, making tears spark her eyes at the impact.

All the while, she can’t help but feel the familiar wetness trickle into her undies. She only hopes the guys can’t see the wet spot forming in her panties.

Smack.

About halfway through, Denzel pauses and rubs her now bright-red ass cheeks. “Give me a color, baby.”

A tear finally slips down her cheek. “G-Green, Daddy.”

He only waits a few more moments before continuing to smack her.

After only a few more hits, the tear begins to flow freely as she buries her face into Denzel’s leg as she tries to muffle her cries.

Smack. At the twentieth hit, Denzel begins praising her, knowing she needs some support to get through it. “You’re taking it so well, baby, I’m proud of you.”

Smack. “You know how much I missed this, baby?”

Smack. “You know how much I missed you?”

She can only sob in response, despite how her heart warms at the proclamation.

Smack. “Did you really think tonight would end any other way than this?”

Smack. “You come in here, looking fuckable in your little dress.”

Smack. “There’s no scenario where you would leave her without getting your cute little ass beaten. You know that now, huh?”

Smack. The last one is the hardest, it nearly breaks her. She hiccups as her face is now wet with tears. Denzel immediately lifts her up onto his knee, and moves her so her bright red bottom isn’t touching the fabric of his jeans.

He takes her into his arms, hugging her and stroking her hair, muttering praise into her ear. “My perfect baby. You’re such a good girl, you did so well.”

She grips onto him tightly, crying out, “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m s-so sorry,” She continues apologizing, knowing she was getting punished in the first place for being a brat.

Denzel reassures her that everything is okay.

She doesn’t notice Lucifer getting up from his chair and walking over to the cabinet in the back of the room. He comes back holding a tub of cream for her bottom.

He walks over to her and lays a gentle hand on her back, not wanting to startle her.

She lifts her head from Denzel's chest and turns to look at him through tear filled eyes.

“Luci,” She whines, using her old nickname for him. She throws herself at him, and he quickly catches her and lifts her up onto his hip before she calls fall. She winces

“I-I’m sorry Luci, I didn’t mean to be a brat. M’sorry.” She cries, wanting him to forgive her.

He rubs her back as he sits down in his chair, laying her over his knee like she just was with Denzel.

She hadn’t realized that he had got cream to put on her bottom, so she immediately thinks she’s going to get spanked again. She bursts into tears, squirming around in his lap, not wanting to be spanked anymore but knowing she would try to get through it to make Lucifer happy with her.

Lucifer quickly realized what this probably looks like to her. “Hey, hey, no.” He says gently, rubbing his hand comfortingly along his back. “You’re done, baby, you’re not gonna get spanked anymore. I’ve just gotta put cream on your pretty ass to make you feel better, okay, Doll?”

She calms down at his words and the feeling of his hand soothingly rubbing her back.

She sniffles, “O-Okay.”

She contemplates using his proper title, but she’s not sure if he wants her to.

Lucifer quickly puts some cream and rubs it on her bottom, making her moan at the blissful feeling of the coldness on her burning skin.

Once he’s done, he keeps her over his knee as his hand creeps between her inner thighs. “Think you can keep going, Doll?”

She shudders, remembering his promise about making her feel good. “Yes,” She whispers, and refrains from spreading her legs for him.

He clicks his tongue. “Is that how you address me?”

His hand is now grazing the edge of her panties. “No, Master. I’m sorry.” She whines, finally pushing her hips up to try and get him to touch her.

He finally grants her wishes when his finger softly brushes over her panties, touching her clit through the fabric.

She lets out a breathy moan as her head drops forward and she buries her face in his leg.

He starts slowly rubbing her sweet spot, enjoying the noises that come out of the little thing below him.

“She soaked?” Ellias’s voice is rough, it comes out strained.

Lucifer slips a finger through the slide of her panties and without warning, plunges one of his big fingers in her cunt. It slides in easily, but she loudly gasps and flinches forward at the contact.

“Drenched.” Lucifer replies, condescending amusement evident in his tone.

She moans loudly as Lucifer's long finger hits her sweet spot, making her see stars. He moves his hand so he can drum his thumb along her bare clit.

“Master,” She wails.

“That feel good, Pet?” He says, stuffing another finger into her sopping cunt. “You like Master’s fingers in you?” She loudly cries out in response. “Of course you do,” He scoffed, moving his finger faster. “You’re such a desperate little slut, aren’t you? Always so needy for us.”

She moans her agreement to his dirty words. “I don’t know how the fuck you lasted three months without orgasms. I would’ve thought you would come back to our door within the first few weeks, begging us to give you greedy cunt attention.”

His words seem to move her along quickly, the pleasure overwhelming her.

“M-Master,” She cries, “C-Can I come? Oh p-please, can I come?”

He chuckles darkly, “There’s my polite little whore. Knew we could fuck some manners back into you.”

“Please.” She whimpers, feeling herself balanced right on the edge. It takes everything in her not to come before he gives her permission.

“Oh, I suppose you did take your punishment rather well.” He says, not slowing down the movement of his hand even though he knows how close she is. “Do you promise to continue being a good girl for us? No ignoring us when we try to talk to you?”

“I promise! Oh please. I promise, Master.”

He slowly sighs, making a show to take his time to think it over. “Well then, yes, Pet, you can come.”

And she does. Her mouth opens, yet no sound escapes her as she finally lets her climax take over. Lucifer chooses the moment to shove another finger into her cunt, pushing himself in deep and curling his fingers against that sensitive spot. His thumb rubs tighter, faster circles against her clit as she cries out and convulses on his hand.

“That’s it, come on Master’s hand.” He purrs from above her. “Such a pretty little doll you are for me.”

She can only lay there over his lap, shaking, with her mouth open and eyes closed.

She faintly hears Ellias let out a sting of curse words before he finally can’t stand it anymore and he stands up, striding over to them and picking her up. Startled, her eyes fly open as she sees Ellias in front of her, bringing her back over to the couch. He sits down and forces her down with him. Her back is to him, and she’s stradling one of his thighs with her hand on his knee in front of her to support her.

She blushes as she feels Ellias’s hand come up and wipe up some of the droll that was sticking to her bottom lip.

He moves his hands down to her waist and he grips her, slowly starting to move her hips back and forth along her thigh.

“You’re going to sit here,” He tells her, “And you’re going to hump my thigh while all of us watch. You’re going to make yourself come. Got that?”

Her small chest moves up and down in quick spurts. “I- W-What? B-But I-”

He cuts her off, putting more pressure on her hips, making her sensitive pussy rub harshly along the length of his jeans. “Got that?”

She whimpers, leaning her head back to rest against his shoulder. “Yes, Sir.”

He makes a sound of approval before letting go of her waist, spreading his arms over the back of the couch.

She awkwardly grips onto his knee as she slowly starts to move her sensitive cunt back and forth over his leg.

The position she is in makes it hard for her to keep a steady pace. She doesn’t really have anything to hold onto to help keep her balance. It would be easier if she were facing him so she could grip his shoulders.

Nonetheless, she tries her best to keep going and make herself come for them. Her clit is crushed against his leg, providing wonderful stimulation-despite how sensitive her pussy is from just cumming.

She must look like quite the sight, humping Ellias’s thigh like a dog. Her dress is bunched up at her waist, showing the entirety of her lower half. Her panties are pushed aside so he cunt isn’t covered by the pretty lace. Her eyes are hazily closed while she concentrates on her movements. Her mouth is open and a little bit of drool escapes her lips. All the while four men, who are fully clothed, watch her every move.

She really tries her best, but she doesn’t think she can come like this. She needs someone's help. “Ellie,” She whimpers pitifully, “Ellie, please. C-Can you help me? I-I don’t think I can-Oh.” She cuts herself off when Ellias hands are suddenly back on her hips, gripping her love handles perfectly while he uses the perfect amount of speed and pressure to move her along his thigh.

He laughs mockingly in her ear, “Can’t do it yourself? Useless whore, need me to do it for you?”

She moans, feeling wetness coat his jeans. “You’re so fucking desperate. You should see yourself right now. Riding my thigh like a goddamn puppy.”

She whines, liking the reference. “Yeah, Princess? You like that?” She tries to nod her head. “Such a precious little girl. Getting her dom to make her feel good.”

Her pussy practically feels like it’s being rubbed raw against the rough material of his pants. But the pain seems to make the entire feeling somewhat better.

“You missed this, baby?” He breathes directly into her ear, quickening his movement with his hands.

“Y-Yes, Sir.” She replies, her voice coming out small and timid.

“I bet you did.” He says. “You miss being treated like a common fucking whore by your superiors? You miss us throwing you around and using you like you're just our little toy?”

Her orgasm is right there. She can feel it.

She wants to ask him if she can come, but she doesn’t want to interrupt him.

“I d-did. I did, Sir.”

He laughs darkly as he starts sucking on the soft skin right below her ear.

“You gonna come, Princess?”

His hot breath on her neck nearly sends her over the edge.

“C-Can I, Sir? Pretty please?”

He places one final kiss on the side of her neck. “With those manners? How could I say no?”

That’s all the permission she needs. She moans out as she comes all over his thigh. Her body feels shaky and disoriented by the end of it. She tries to move her puffy cunt away from his leg, but only succeeds in moving a few inches up before her exhaustion gives in and she collapses against him again.

Ellias laughs as he lifts her weak body up and gently sets her on the other side of him, so now she’s in between him and Sorin again.

She winces at the feeling of the cold leather biting into her skin.

His hand gets tangled in her hair as he gently pets her, letting her come down from her high. “You okay, Princess?”

She tries to control her breathing as she opens her mouth, “Yes, S-Sir.”

She stares off into space, trying to calm down. Her glasses are suddenly placed over her eyes, and she blinks as she can see things a little more clearly now. “T-Thank you.” She murmurs, not forgetting her manners.

Sorin is suddenly in front of her. She looks into his eyes as he leans in close to her and he gently cups her jaw in his big palm. Her eyes flutter close when his lips meet hers. The kiss is gentle and slow, exactly what she needs right now.

She whimpers into the kiss, not realizing how much she missed this until right now.

When Sorin finally pulls away, his eyes stay locked on hers. “Think you can go one more time, baby?”

Her mouth stays parted as she watches him move off the couch, slowly sinking to his knees before her. He nudges her legs apart and he grabs them, moving them over his shoulders so he has easier access. His hand comes up and softly brushes over the hem of her dress that has come back down over her thighs. He looks at her expectantly.

“W-What about you guys?” She whispers, knowing that if she comes even one more time, there’s no way she will have enough energy to get them off.

Sorin brushes this off. “Don’t worry about us, sweet thing. This has been what we’ve been fantasizing about for the past three months. We just wanna make our girl feel good.”

Her insides melt at his words. She nods her head yes, giving him the approval he was looking for.

And because it’s Sorin, he doesn’t make her answer verbally before he dives in, ripping her sodden panties off her legs before grabbing her hips and pulling them forward to meet his awaiting mouth.

She bucks in his arms at the feeling of his hot mouth against her swollen pussy.

His tongue glides over her folds, gathering her juices into his mouth before he plunges his tongue in and out of her hole. He moans at the taste of the young girl's juices.

“God, baby. You’re fucking dripping for Daddy.” He murmurs against her, the vibrations from her voice making her clit twitch.

He wastes no time in sucking her clit into his mouth, running his tongue over it making her scream out and buck into his face. Her hand reaches down and finds his hair, tugging it and only succeeding in making him groan into her soft cunt.

His grip on her hips tightens in an attempt to push her ruther into his mouth. She’s pretty sure she’ll have bruises on them tomorrow from all the rough treatment they’ve suffered.

He growls into her cunt, “You taste so fucking good, baby.”

She yelps as his tongue repeatedly abuses her sensitive little pearl.

“Oh god.” She moans.

He chuckles into her cunt, “I thought my name was Daddy, baby?”

His comment grants a small laugh from Ellias, and it makes her whine louder in desperation.

He stops torturing her little clit for a moment to go back down into her hole. His tongue brushes along her walls, making her grip on his hair tighten at the blissful feeling.

“You taste so fucking good, sweetheart. I never want to stop,” He groans into her cunt, going back to scooping juices out of her pussy with his tongue.

His nose rubs up against her clit while his tongue prods her sore hole.

“You gonna come, baby? You gonna come for Daddy?”

She stammers out, “Y-Yes, Daddy. Oh my.” Her voice trembles as she feels overwhelmed by sensations.

She comes undone on his tongue moments later. Her hips gently rock against his face, seeking out as much pleasure as she can. He continues pleasuring her through it, not slowing down at all. He groans at the flood of juices that enter her cunt. He happily laps them up, not wanting to miss anything. The orgasm rips through her and leaves her feeling so, so tired. She slumps against the couch, letting her arms fall from Sorin’s head as the little energy she once had is now gone.

When her orgasm subsides and Sorin doesn’t pull away from her cunt, an quiet whine escapes her as she slowly moves her head back and forth, wanting to protest but not having the energy to.

“Daddy,” She whispers, blinking her eyes open as she tries her best to remain conscious.

She feels so exhausted. Like her body has been awake for days at a time and is craving sleep. Yet Sorin still doesn’t let up. She brings her shaking hands to his head and tries to push his head back. “Dada-” She gets cut off when he moves his hands from her hip and grabs her hands and pins them down to the couch on either side of her.

Suddenly it’s too much, and for the second time tonight, she bursts into tears. They’re silent this time, but they run down her flushed cheeks, slipping into her open mouth.

Sorin doesn’t seem to want to take pity on her, but for once, Ellias does.

He reaches over and prys Sorin’s hand away from one of her wrists. Then he reaches over her and loops an arm around her stomach, yanking her away from Sorin.

“Sorin.” Lucifer says from his seat.

That seems to break him out of his trance because he finally looks up, seeming somewhat annoyed at being interrupted.

The look in his eyes is almost feral, and it makes Emerson whimper and bring her legs together, squeezing them.

Sorin licks his lips, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head at the taste.

“Fuck, Darling,” His eyes fall back down to her legs, and he brings his hands down, forcefully spreading her legs. He doesn’t touch her, he just stares at her pussy as it drools onto the couch.

He brings his hand to her thigh, rubbing the inside of it, right by her cunt. “You’re little pussy is so red, baby. It’s so pretty.”

She just whimpers, shutting her eyes again as Sorin continues to examine her.

“Daddy,” She whispers, wanting his comfort.

Sorin looks up, taking in her tears. He smirks slightly as he realizes the distress he put the little baby in. He stands up, shoving Ellias aside as he loops his arms around her back and picks her up. He sits down on the couch, bringing her to lay over him.

She wraps her arms around his neck as tears continue to stream down her face.

Sorin presses gentle kisses to the top of her head, back to his usual, caring self. “You did so good, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

She suddenly feels a hand on her back as Denzel kneels down behind her. He leans forward and presses a kiss to the back of her neck. “Emerson, drink this.”

She turns her head slightly and looks through dazed eyes to see Denzel holding a glass of water out to her.

Luckily, she doesn’t have to worry about holding the glass and risk dropping it, because Denzel brings it to her, and she parts her lips so he can put the straw into her mouth.

He watches her through a hooded expression. “Fuck, baby. You should see yourself right now.” He brings a hand to her face, gently brushing away some stray tears. “Fucked-out expression, even if we didn’t even fuck you,” He laughs darkly, “You’re our innocent little baby, huh? You’re so easy to break.”

She makes a noise of agreement. He smirks, “All dumbed-out, aren’t you?” He coos as he brings his hand up to wipe away some of her tears. “Our dumb little baby.”

Emerson whines as her eyes find Lucifers. She blinks at him as she continues greedily drinking the cold water. All the while he watches her, as observant as even. She looks at him, waiting for his compliments.

A smirk finds its way onto his face; as if he knows what she’s doing.

Thankfully, he obliges her, “You’re such a pretty baby, sweetheart. And don’t worry; I know how much your greedy little cunt loves our cocks, so we’ll fuck you stupid tomarrow, yeah?”

Her stomach flutters in anticipation. He sees her excited expression and smiles softly, Emerson feels herself slowly drifting off in Sorin’s arms.

Sorin tightens his arms around her back. “Go to sleep, Emerson. We’ve got you.”

A few minutes later, Emerson falls asleep, happy knowing she’s back in the arms of the four men that she loves most in the world.

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