"I'm starving." I announce, sticking my hand into Hervé's fruit bowl and picking out all the grapes

He was sat by the hidden balcony of Lucas kitchenette, the one that overlooked the man-made lake. This was a popular breakfast spot for the two, I was starting to realize

"I was just thinking about you." He admits, smiling up at me as I shamelessly start to cut into his pancakes too

Breakfast looked so good and I was oh so very hungry.

"I can't stay too long... but I also still want to know how you ended up having your sperm stolen by some spoiled white sket yeah?" I prod, hoping I'd have enough time to fully understand the story before heading back to Lucas' bed

I was in one of Lucas' shirts and if you suspected he didn't know that I wasn't in his bed right now; you're right.

"The abridged version?" Hervé offers, watching me clean his plate of the pancakes on it

"Take it to the bridge!" I hastily reply

"I apparently used to have random erections during my coma." He declares

I look up at him for a second before I pout. That couldn't be the entire story

"She... raped you? While you were in a coma?" I choke in confusion

This was serious! This was jail time!

"Not entirely... no... I suppose I'm not sure. From what mother tells me, they had a nurse collect samples of my sperm and store it just in case I did die, so they'd be able to use a surrogate or something to create an heir from me." He assures me as if any of this made sense

Can you imagine being so desperate to keep your son's line alive or whatever that you'd do that to him? Without his consent either, just pure selfishness!

I take in a deep breath. I'm not sure I can call his mother what it is that she so clearly is so I try and get to the bottom of this.

"Was she the nurse?" I pry as he shakes his head

"She studied poetry not medicine." He clarifies

"Then how did she steal your sperm bruv?" I investigate, feeling vexed on his behalf now

"From the clinic somehow. She used her access to my mum to get a sample out and then she put it in herself and now we're having a baby." he shrugs, clearly more defeated by all this than I was giving him credit

"This abridged version sucks, but I gotta squaley innit. I'll find you." I vow rushing back into the house because I think I hear Lucas' steps on the stairwell

"I'll distract him." Hervé calls after me as I slip back into the room and strip myself of his shirt, struggling to put it right back where I found it.

I couldn't believe the absolute madness of it! Terry had said the Duke was here because he'd remembered his past, but I would never have guessed this backstory, not from our lunches or anything. Poor Hervé must have had the worst of trust issues, and it baffled me, as Lucas walked into the room, that Hervé had decided the only person he could trust was this man. This man that I could never trust again, who had broken so severely my faith in people, who'd turned me into this play thing tied to his bed desperate for whatever pleasure I could eek out of the experience.

I watch him walk over to the window, a glass of orange juice in his hand. It must be brooding mass of sadboi hours.

"stad gam peanasachadh san dòigh seo , mo ghràdh" He sighs as if I could understand a word of what he was saying (stop punishing me this way, my love)

My theory is that he's just catching up on his Duolingo, because surely, if he wanted to talk to me, he knew I couldn't understand a word of what he was saying. Maybe he was auditioning for some bit in the Hobbit or whatever, I didn't know for sure. Obnoxiously good looking but sadboi elf, take six hundred! I'd played enough Daddy Lesson and Sorry to hint very loudly and yet here we are. SIR! What part of BOY BYE and MY DADDY SAID SHOOT was unclear?

He turns his gaze to me over his shoulder, and I don't know what he's expecting because my tits are out and my pussy is in full view. I was tied to the bed again because I knew my rights. Lucas had stated that if he fell asleep with me by his side he should wake up with me by his side. I had argued that technically he had woken up with me there (because I woke him up and I was there). When I started looking for my clothes so I could leave, so I could go back to my apartment that I pay rent on and have my things at, the tonk, the absolute rinsed tonk, who was apparently still sleepy had jumped out of bed, grabbed me and dragged me right back in. I swear if he tries to slow dance to All Night Long or Love Drought again...

"faodaidh tu mo pheanasachadh ann an dòigh sam bith eile a tha thu ag iarraidh" he says putting the glass of juice by a console as he walks to me (you can punish me any other way you want)

I had things to do that didn't involve cuddling into him! I knew a hostage situation when I saw one, so again, I waited until I thought he was falling asleep and tried to slide out of his grip. That was enough to trigger tied-to-the-bed mode. If I was, say for example, as invested in him trying to guilt me into forgiving him or whatever, and I could speak Gandalf, I'm sure this monologue would have been moving, but I just couldn't be bothered love!

"èigh, gairm ainmean orm, thoir dhomh rudeigin" he calmly recites, a darkness to his gaze (shout, call me names, give me something)

He was settling on the bed now, and I was wondering what side of Lucas Hervé had seen in order for him to trust this man. I couldn't even trust him to let me go back to my own house! I'd already spent the weekend here! I'd pouted through it all obviously but still I'd been here all weekend! I had work in a matter of hours and I'd very much like to go home!

You're interrupting my grinding! Call Becky with the good hair please!

Right after this orgasm I was about to catch, obviously.

"Peanasaich mi, ach chan ann mar seo" He whispers huskily to me as he crawls on top of me(punish me, but not this way)

These could be the song lyrics to humpty dumpty for all I know. Why was vagina terrorista so fucking potent?

"leig a-steach mi, mo ghràdh" He leans into my ear and says in a low husky tone (let me in, my love)

The fact that something like this, sadboi whispers in a language I didn't understand, got me all hot and bothered, the fact that I'd opted for his bed instead of being home, alone, feeling the hurt from Luna's betrayal, questioning if she'd loved me at all over the three years we'd been together, the fact that each time he kissed my neck or his hand worked my pussy into a frenzy I completely forgot all the bedeviling complexities of us, the fact that I was guaranteed to explode in pure bliss each time he hinged his full girth into me, this was all proof, of course, of vagina terrorista.

That's was exactly what the commercial's symptoms list would say. Did vagina terrorista even have a cure?

*******

I couldn't imagine trusting Lucas Roland the way Hervé did. I couldn't picture this being the man I ran to when nothing made sense in my life anymore. There was no version of reality in which Lucas Roland was my anchor. I didn't care anymore though, so it was much easier get fucked over by him, in fact it was quite liberating. The entire office knew, so it made it easier to let him bend me over his desk whenever he felt like it...and boy did he feel like it. I was on his desk right now, struggling to be quiet while his fingers worked through me in ways I was shaking from, his lips attached to my neck.

There wasn't an optional button though anywhere on Lucas Roland. I'd taken some days off work to run errands on my new office and he'd shown up at my house on the third day with an overnight bag. The gig was more of a regular gig than I'd expected, or maybe it was one sextuplet per month or something.

Marie-Frances had warned me herself that this was a short-game at best. He was going to get bored, and I didn't need to get butt-hurt when he did. All I was here for is a viciously good time. As long as I reminded myself that, he couldn't hurt me ever again.

*********

I was hungry and being held hostage in the annoyingly comfortable grip of Lucas Roland. I considered farting so badly that he'd wake up or even die but unfortunately because I hadn't eaten, I had nothing to give my farts, so I had to think fast. If I could get out of the bed, I could sneak to breakfast with Hervé at the balcony and eat something so vile then sneak back into bed and fart Luca to death. Hopefully it would be a untraceable murder and I'd be free. If not, I could just point out that I was actually in sex slavery and I should inherit his house or something for the inconvenience.

I sneak out of bed slightly easier than I expected to given Luca's propensity for cuddling. I throw his shirt on as quietly as possible and even manage to open the door and keep it open with the help of a pillow. I slip out and run to the kitchenette. Hervé is staring at his orange juice in thought as I smile triumphantly at him. He chuckles back, pushing his loaded french toast at me.

"Should I ask the chef to make an extra plate for breakfast?" He chimes in greeting as if he'd die from sharing his breakfast with me

"No, I have a plan that'll finally free me from the shackles of Lucas." I assure him, wondering if French toast farts are toxic enough to kill someone

"Have you tried pretending you're in love with him?" Hervé wonders cheekily as if...

"How many Oscars and BAFTAs do you think I have Hervé?" I wonder back, biting onto the toast as the curtain that hides the balcony from the kitchenette screeches open and Lucas Roland, completely in the buff, stands there glaring at me. I choke on the toast, because I was about to scream when the naked Earl of Whitlam triumphantly jumps onto the balcony.

I slide off the seat as he accuses me of things, unable to hear him because of the pain of landing harshly on my poor ass. The toast also goes down the wrong pipe, completing the trifecta of his attempt to murder me

"I knew you were sneaking out on me mo gradh!" He hisses as I scream/cough/choke/cry from the pain, seeing my life flash before me

Local office slut chokes to death on her boss' best friend's toast during threesome, my obituary would read on the news!

"Baby?" Lucas exclaims as Hervé cackles

I'm pouting and holding back tears from the pain, the other pain in my ass hovers over me, apparently concerned that I wasn't dead from his various attempts on my life. I choke out the toast thanks to some weird manouver he makes on my chest, still struggling to catch my breath. He looks over me, making sure I'm OK before he caresses my face and presses his lips against my forehead and then my lips, whispering "good morning mo grádh." as if he hadn't just attempted to starve, choke, scare and murder me in front of Hervé

"You're trying to kill me you mo chridhe!" I hiss back at him, my heart still racing from the events of my attempted murder.

Here I was trying to kill him via farts in his sleep and he was actively trying to get my heart to leave my body!

"I was trying to catch you sneaking out of our bed. Now I have proof that you do." He whispers back, pulling me into his arms like he didn't look like an absolute rinsed idiot out here completely naked and accusing me of things I was completely innocent of.

"So you set me up and endangered my life! Which means this isn't admissible proof you rinsed tonk!" I hiss back at him, glaring right back at him because my ass was sore and he'd tried to kill me with French toast

"You! Here at breakfast with Hervé isn't proof that you sneaked out of our bed?!" He wonders because he clearly doesn't speak English

"Yes!" I hiss back, turning to Hervé for backup

"I mean you did set her up..." Hervé agrees with me as Luca chuckles darkly before taking in a deep breath

"He also tried to have me choke to death on your French toast." I add for good measure finding the ally I always knew I had in Hervé

"The horror. Would you say you're traumatized by your near death experience?" Hervé soothes, concern wrinkling his face as Lucas pulls a chair and sits, pulling me onto his lap and pulling Hervé's French toast towards me

"I'd have to consult my GP and my lawyer about compensation...and the therapy..." I add as Lucas whispers "eat" into my ear

"You'll obviously need a lot of therapy to deal with the emotional trauma." Hervé agrees as I bite onto the toast happily

Hervé was walking me through my options when I felt the shirt I was wearing move suspiciously up my ass and then something against bottom of my thigh that wasn't Luca's thigh. I tried to turn back to glare at him when his leg moved in the most evil of ways and his hand went round my waist, securing me to him. Having his hard dick venturing to where it was venturing to was giving me breathing problems.

"Keep eating mo grádh. This is what you wanted, isn't it." He whispers darkly to me as if I was in any place to withstand this level of evil

I try to move away but his hand on my waist tightens and the tip of his dick brushes dangerously close to the danger zone. I consider blinking HELP in Morse code to Hervé, who didn't seem to be any the wiser to his best friend's antics over here.

Why was I so wet? Why was Lucas so evil? Why was my vagina a terrorist?

"You want breakfast with Hervé. Let's see if you'll survive it." He warns darkly as I feel him slip inside me, a groan that had nothing to do with the toast I'd stuffed into my mouth escapes my lips. His grip on my waist shakes and then steadies as if he was swallowing a groan of his own.

"Finish your breakfast mo grádh...quietly." Lucas whispers darkly in a lusty breath before turning to Hervé. I was struggling to eat, to hear what Hervé was saying, to keep my eyes open and my moans quiet, to grip reality. The nerve of this evil rinsed absolute idiot!

I HATE SLAVERY!