I get up and take Brent by the hand to lead him downstairs. When we get down there, I groan. “You are dying to be a brat, aren’t you?” Brent asks with a smirk.
“Yes,” I laugh.
“But you also love making him proud,” he says. “You can find stability without being disobedient.”
“How?” I ask.
“By trusting that when he comes down here, he will know exactly what you need,” Brent says. “Go on. Do as he said.”
“You just want to see me naked,” I say as I pull my shirt off.
“Fuck, your tits are perfect,” he grunts.
“Feels nice to say?” I ask with a laugh.
“So fucking good. Not as good as your cunt though,” he says, scanning my body as I take my panties off. I sink down to my knees, straighten my back with my hands on my slightly parted thighs, and drop my head.
I hear footsteps on the basement steps, but I fight the urge to look up. I only do when Adrian lifts my chin. “Good girl, Alania,” he says warmly.
“Thank you, Mas… Sir,” I say, correcting myself.
“You are not being punished,” Adrian says. “I will never punish you for your mental health. I will never make you feel like you have to be okay, because sometimes we have to fall apart to get all the pieces into a different order. What you did today was nothing short of strong. You fought for yourself, even when you didn’t want to. You may think you gave up, but you didn’t. You sitting here on your knees for me rather than a victim of your own hand proves it.”
“Thank you,” I say tearfully. “Now… I’m going to say this to both of you, and I want you to just accept it. It’s not up for debate.”
“Should I start calling you sir, too?” Brent asks with a chuckle.
Adrian turns and, without skipping a beat, says, “Are you going to be my good boy and get on your knees too, Brently?” Brent’s smile disappears from his face, and his eyes go wide when Adrian steps toward him. He is challenging him, and my jaw is on the fucking floor. “Go ahead, Brent. Get on your knees.”
“Are you going to make me?” Brent quips back.
“Do you want me to make you?” Adrian asks with a sweet smile. “Because if I do… Alania’s reward for fighting for herself will be seeing you get bent over her lap and fucked to tears.”
“Make him,” I say. “Please, God. Make him.” They both look at me with smirks, and a blush heats my face. “Sorry. Ignore me.”
“You like the idea of that?” Brent asks me honestly.
“Absolutely. I wrongly assumed Adrian wasn’t bisexual because he said he wasn’t into pegging, but… clearly I assumed wrong.”
Brent looks at Adrian, and a smile stretches across his face. “How about we fight for dominance?” Brent suggests.
“I’m listening,” Adrian says with a smile.
“We both undress, and we wrestle. Loser gets fucked,” Brent explains.
“What if you are getting fucked but then get out of it?” Adrian asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Okay, then the first to come in the other’s ass is the winner. Specific enough?” Brent asks.
“Deal,” Adrian says, and they both look at me. “And you, Little Dove, will be the judge.”
“Fuck yeah!” I say happily.
“Go sit against the wall,” Adrian laughs.
“Yes, sir!” I practically throw myself across the room to sit while they undress. Brent comes over and brings my feet up so that they are flat on the floor. He pulls my legs apart before placing my hands on my knees.
“Do not move,” he says firmly. “Do not touch yourself.”
