1

Freya

Consciousness was dragged awake by a strange soreness spreading through my limbs.

I slowly opened my eyes to an unfamiliar luxurious ceiling light. The warm glow was soft, yet it highlighted the mess all around.

Bedding was piled messily at my feet, clothes were scattered carelessly on the carpet, and the air still held the lingering heat of ambiguous passion.

The unfamiliar sensation brought my memories flooding back.

I turned my head to see a strange man lying beside the bed. He had a great physique with well-defined eight-pack abs, and because it was morning, his penis was magnificently erect.

The man was still sound asleep, with a high and sharp nose bridge and a clean, sharp jawline. Even with his eyes closed, he was devastatingly handsome with an aggressive edge.

His body was covered with scratch marks, looking as if he'd been clawed by a cat.

I looked down at my fingernails, my heartbeat accelerating, feeling a trace of panic.

I carefully got out of bed, my legs weak at the roots. Between my legs I could feel dried liquid rubbing against my labia, creating ripples of sensation so sensitive I couldn't help but get wet again.

In the dim light, we embraced and kissed, sucking the fluids from each other's mouths. He kneaded my breasts, pinched my nipples, while his other hand slowly slid downward, exploring into my pussy.

His fingers were slender and powerful. When they entered, I let out a pleasured sigh. He made a mess of my lower parts, fluids splashing everywhere.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, not to be outdone, setting him on fire. I slowly slid down to grasp his penis. The huge, burning thing became even more magnificent in my hand. We pleasured each other like it was a game.

His powerful arms lifted one of my legs. He withdrew his fingers and his penis thrust directly inside.

Beyond the initial pain of entry, there was more satisfaction and pleasure. His waist exerted force, practically nailing me to the wall with deep, rapid thrusts.

I couldn't withstand it, moaning and begging for mercy. This not only failed to soften his heart but instead triggered his ruthlessness. He directly hooked both my legs up, leaving me with only his penis to support my body.

I had no choice but to wrap my arms around his neck. Below, sexual fluids splashed everywhere, and soon I was made into a muddy mess.

He carried me to the floor-to-ceiling window. One of my feet touched the ground as he forcibly lifted my other leg. During this, his penis remained deeply buried inside my body, like a burning piece of hard iron.

Before I could steady myself, he began thrusting deeply again. Half my face pressed against the cold glass wall, but soon my body's heat warmed the glass as well. He gripped my neck, mercilessly penetrating me!

I suddenly snapped back to reality, discovering semen gradually overflowing from my lower body. Ashamed, I turned to glare at the man.

Staying to shower was definitely not a good idea. I grabbed a few tissues to wipe away the overflowing semen, gathered my clothes from the messy room, and pulled out my remaining cash from my bag to leave on the nightstand.

Although his stunning looks had amazed me, last night was an accident. I had to get out of there quickly.

I tiptoed out of that room like a frightened bird, only daring to return home after randomly buying a set of clean clothes at a nearby supermarket.

The iron gate of Fergus Manor slowly closed behind me with a dull clang, like a verdict.

Susie was waiting at the door. Her worldly-wise eyes gave me a look as she took the things from my hands, her voice extremely low: "The master is in a bad mood. Watch out for yourself."

I tiptoed away from that room, went to the supermarket next door to buy some clean clothes temporarily, then returned home.

As soon as I entered, the housekeeper Susie gave me a look. As she took the things from my hands, she carefully reminded me: "The master is in a bad mood. Watch out for yourself."

Hearing this, my heart grew uneasy. I took a deep breath and steeled myself to enter the inner room.

As soon as I went in, I saw my uncle Kelan Fergus sitting on the sofa.

He wore gold-rimmed glasses, his face stern as he looked down at the newspaper, but his slightly furrowed brows were a sign of his impending anger.

I walked over slowly and called out softly: "Good morning, Uncle."

He didn't look up or respond. The entire manor was extremely quiet. I could only hear my own nervous breathing.

I don't know how long passed. Just as my feet were going numb from standing, he finally spoke: "You didn't come home all night?"

Before I could speak, a sharp voice came from behind me: "Who knows where she was fooling around, maybe she slept with someone all night!"

My heart jumped. I thought "good guess," but I didn't dare show my emotions. I looked at the speaker, putting on a wronged expression: "Doreen, I wasn't fooling around. How can you make such malicious assumptions about me?"

"Ha, don't act wronged in front of me. Just like your dead mother, always seducing people!"

My own aunt, Doreen Fergus. She was clearly my relative, yet she held baseless malice toward me and my mother. That look in her eyes wished I would disappear immediately!

I was about to retort when Kelan snapped in a low voice: "Enough!"

He looked up, staring straight at me, and ordered: "Come here."

The rules of this manor were established single-handedly by the Fergus family, rules and regulations binding everyone here.

Doreen showed a gloating expression. I bit my lip and slowly walked to Kelan.

"Kneel down."

He gripped my chin, looking me over a couple of times. His fingertips rubbed my lips. A pair of eagle eyes hidden behind the lenses, sharp yet restrained, invaded my entire body.

My heart pounded wildly. I was worried he would lift my clothes and see the kiss marks all over my body. That would really be disastrous.

As his fingertips slid from my cheek to my neck and continued downward, I quickly squeezed out two drops of tears.

Kelan's hand paused. He chuckled lightly, lifted my chin, his tone somewhat gentler: "Feel wronged?"

I quickly explained: "Last night at the party, Tracy told me to wait for her, but she never came back. I didn't dare wander around, so I waited there for her until the banquet ended before leaving..."

"Oh, so Tracy is involved in this too." Kelan's voice was icy cold, his peripheral vision inadvertently glancing at Doreen.

Doreen glared at me and sneered: "Last night Tracy came home early. It was you who stayed at the banquet scene because you wanted to play. Now to avoid punishment you're pushing the responsibility onto Tracy."

As she spoke, she stepped forward and pushed me. I deliberately fell forward, letting her hit me.

"If Doreen doesn't believe me, she can check the surveillance footage."

"Stop." Kelan frowned in displeasure and rebuked her.

He called the person in charge of yesterday's banquet to get the surveillance footage.

After watching it, he said coldly: "Go get Tracy up."

After a while, a sleepy-eyed Tracy came downstairs.

She saw me kneeling on the ground and revealed a meaningful smile.

With her poor acting skills, she made a surprised expression: "Father, what happened to Freya?"

With a 'slap,' Tracy was caught off guard by the blow. She covered her face and looked at Kelan with grievance: "Why did Father hit me? Freya is the one who made the mistake!"

Kelan's expression grew darker. He showed the surveillance footage he'd obtained and said coldly: "In the surveillance, you deliberately led the way in teasing and ostracizing Freya, made her drink, and deliberately left her behind."

"Before going out, I repeatedly instructed you to take care of Freya, but you treated my words as wind past your ears!"

The reason I ended up sleeping with a stranger in such a confused state last night was fundamentally because of that drink Tracy gave me.

She deliberately framed me and even wanted to push me onto that playboy Holt!

I'm not someone who can swallow every grievance. I had to use Kelan's hand to properly teach Tracy a lesson.

Kelan gave his order: "Your allowance is docked for three months, and you're not allowed to go out without my permission."

Tracy was unconvinced and choked out: "Why punish me?! I'm your biological daughter. Why do you always favor Freya!"

"Because Freya is more obedient than you, more excellent than you. You harmed your sister out of jealousy. Your character is inferior. Is this how I taught you? If you're not satisfied, you can leave the Fergus family and establish yourself independently!"

Tracy seemed not to have expected Kelan to say such harsh words. She froze in place, not daring to question further.

Everything she currently possessed relied entirely on the family's protection. Without these things, she simply couldn't live well.

Doreen stepped out to smooth things over: "Tracy just thinks you're biased. She's still just a child. How can you say such harsh words?"

"Alright Tracy, apologize to your father."

Tracy wiped her tears grievously and apologized to Kelan, then was pulled upstairs by Doreen.

The hall was left with just me and Kelan again.

Kelan patted my head, his tone gentle: "You've been wronged, good child."

I felt the hair on my back stand up. I saw Kelan sit down and open the box on the table. Inside the box lay a black and shiny ruler.

He said with a smile: "After all, you didn't come home last night. You made a mistake, so you must be punished. Freya, am I right?"

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, and silently nodded.

"That's good. You're a good child."

"Thirty strikes on the palm."

I weakly extended my hands and endured the not-so-light thirty strikes, the pain making me gasp.

Since my parents passed away and I came to this home, whenever I made a mistake, I would be disciplined by Kelan in this way.

He clearly had a special desire to control me. Whether in life or studies, he was like a venomous snake coiling around me, binding me to his side!

I wanted to escape this control. I wanted freedom!

"Hiss!"

Kelan pinched my swollen palm, his eyes narrowing: "What are you thinking about?"

His hands were large and solid, calloused from years of use. When they stroked my face, they felt a bit rough.

I put on an obedient smile: "I wasn't thinking about anything, Kelan."

He clearly didn't believe me. Smiling, he pulled me up. He sat me down on the sofa and ordered the housekeeper to bring the medicine box.

He half-knelt in front of me, carefully applying ointment to my wounds with a cotton swab. Silence and oppression spread between us.

He deliberately poked the cotton swab at the spots that were so red they were bleeding. I couldn't help but cry out: "It hurts, Kelan."

He asked quietly: "Where did you stay last night?"