: This chapter contains NSFW content

and smut. 18+ only!!!

- One week later -

The first rays of sunlight welcomes me a new dawn as it brightens up the room. As I was headed to the bathroom for a shower, I stop in front of the full-length mirror to get a good look at myself. I could barely recognize my own reflection. Most of my hair had come out of my messy bun, giving me the perpetual case of bed head. There's a discoloration around my eyes that I hadn't noticed before. Resembling that of a raccoon, I rub my fingers under my eyes as if I could just wipe away my dark circles. While doing so, I see my nails were untrimmed and unpolished. Is this how I've been looking around Brahms? It makes me wonder what I look like through his eyes.

Seeing how unkempt I have been, I decide that I should take some extra time this morning to care for myself.

In the shower, I shave the hair on nearly every part of my body off. Legs, arms, pits, bikini area, etc. until I'm completely smooth. When I get out, I moisturize my skin and get dressed. I put on a light blue cami with a lace trimming and a white cardigan. For bottoms, I chose a white pleated skirt, knee socks, and white Mary Jane's. To accessorize, a silver heart charm bracelet with matching earrings and a necklace. After, I trim and file my nails. I then apply a few coats of white polish and when it dries, I start on my makeup. I decide to go for a soft and natural look with light foundation but go heavy on the concealer to mask my dark circles. On my eyes, a neutral eyeshadow and mascara. I trim, pluck, and fill in my eyebrows. Then, I dabble some peach blush on the apples of my cheek and finish off with a tinted lip stain. For my hair, all I do is slightly curl the ends to give me more volume. I apply deodorant and with a few sprits of perfume, I'm finally ready to start the day. Before leaving the room, I take one more look in the mirror to admire myself. It's been awhile since I've felt pretty.

Hastily and with anticipation, I make my way downstairs, eager to see Brahms.

The first room I check is the library. Expecting Brahms to be doing his daily reading but, he's not there. I step into the fireplace room and still, no sign of Brahms. Could he still be sleeping?

My question was soon answered as I enter the kitchen. Brahms still wasn't around but, on the table, a breakfast was ready for me. Pieces of toast, scrambled eggs, sausage, & bacon with a tall glass of OJ. I can tell it had been sitting out for quite awhile since it was no longer warm and the toast was slightly stale. After eating, I go back to searching for him. With no luck, I debate whether to go into the walls or not. Although, if Brahms wanted to be around me, or wanted my company, he would've been outside the walls, right? And what's he doing in there that he can't do out here?

After some time of going back and forth with myself in my head, I decided that I was going to go into the walls to find him.

I enter through the narrow and dim hallway of the walls, until I reach the door to Brahms' lair. It's closed, and all I can see is a warm yellow light peak through from underneath. I lift my fist up to the door, about to knock until I hear a strange noise coming from inside. I lean my ear up against the door to listen more carefully. My ears pick up the deep muffled sounds of Brahms... Grunting and breathing heavily.

Is he hurt?

I continue listening, trying to find out what's going on in there. I don't want to barge in if he's not in any trouble.

I hear his groans build up, getting faster and louder. The noises coming from him makes me lose control of my own breathing. When it goes silent for a second, I hold my breath. And then...

" Ahhhhh, fuck..." Brahms cries out.

Hearing him pant and curse like that makes me involuntarily gasp aloud.

Shit.

I quickly cover my mouth with my hands. Did he hear me?

I stand still and listen once more. I do a good job of keeping quiet until I feel something bump into my feet. I then hear a scurrying followed by a squeak that makes my eyes shoot wide open in panic. Slowly and bravely, I tilt my head to look down. When I do, there's a large, long-tailed, and furry rodent crawling around me. Seeing the rat causes me to shriek and sends me hauling ass into Brahms' room. I burst through the door, making sure to block my eyes since I might be intruding in on something. As I run inside, my foot gets caught onto an object on the floor and I accidentally trip. It causes me to lose my balance and as I fall, my eyes squeeze tighter to brace for impact. Before I could hit the ground, I feel Brahms' hand quickly grab my wrist — redirecting my fall and making me crash into him instead.

" Y/n?" Brahms says, sounding both surprised and worried, " Are you okay?" he asks.

My eyes are still closed as my body lies against him, " I'm fine," I reply.

Brahms lets go of me and when I pull away, my body feels all sticky.

I decide to finally open my eyes so that I could take a look at my clothes. Luckily, there were no white stains to be found but, there were wet spots. Slowly, I lift my chin up to see a shirtless Brahms before me. His body glistened with sweat, which explains what the stickiness was from.

Brahms' hair was slightly damp with a strand of hair clinging to the forehead of his mask. He was hovering over me and unknowingly, I check him out. My eyes can't help but gloss over his lean but, toned body. He was wearing nothing but black gym shorts and socks.

" What brings you here?" He asks.

" I, um..." I struggle to think of something, " Well, I was looking for you and since I couldn't find you anywhere in the house... I decided to check your room in the walls. And, well, here you are."

Brahms tilts his head, staring at me suspiciously.

" Why are you looking at me like that..." I say, feeling myself shrink under his gaze.

" I didn't even hear you coming," he responds, " Have you been standing outside my door?"

I shake my head vigorously.

How the fuck does he know?

" Don't just shake your head. Tell me out loud that you weren't outside my door," he demands.

" I-..."

He tilts his head to the other side and continues giving me a stare down.

" Okay, I was," I admit, " Only because I heard some noises. I thought you were hurt at first but then, it started sounding like something else..."

After my explanation, Brahms pauses and remains still for a moment. His eyes change from a hard stare to completely blank and then wide, with realization as it finally clicks with him, " Did you think I was..."

" Well...yeah," I shrug, feeling embarrassed, " It sounded like you were."

Brahms doesn't respond but, I see his shoulders shaking up and down. He was bent forward slightly, looking teary-eyed as if he were holding back a laugh. Suddenly, a small chuckle escapes before he could suppress it.

It was my first time hearing him laugh and though it was brief, it sounded so attractive. As much I wanted to hear it again, I wanted to be the one he laughs with, not the one being laughed at.

" It's not funny, Brahms," I pouted.

" I was exercising, Y/n," he says, pointing to the floor.

I look down and see a folding chair, a duffle bag, jugs of laundry detergent, and a large stick with two hampers full of books hanging from each end.

Well, now I feel dumb.

" You use this stuff to workout?" I question.

He nods, " I couldn't have any real equipment since it would make too much noise. The clanking of real weights would give away my hiding spot."

" I see..." I respond, " Well, I'm sorry for interrupting your workout session."

" Don't worry about it," he says, " I know how you can make it up to me."

" How?" I ask.

" You can help me exercise," He suggests.

" But, I hate working out," I admit, " and besides, I can't," I add, looking down at my attire with my skirt, heeled shoes, and all.

" I'm not gonna have you do too much..." He eyes me up and down, " Seeing how you look today, I wouldn't want to turn you into a sweaty mess..." His voice deepens and he speaks slowly with his last sentence, " At least... not right now."

Then comes that intense electric feeling in my stomach that I always get when he acts like this. What is he trying to do to me?

Brahms lowers himself onto the floor, getting into a plank position and then orders me to get on.

I struggle to find a way to do so. At first, I just sit on his back.

" You'll fall off easily if you sit on me like that," Brahms tells me.

" Then how should I get on?" I ask.

" Lay on me."

At his suggestion, a large lump of air gets stuck in my throat. I swallow, and as it makes it's way down my throat, it hurts. I lift one leg over him and sit. As I do, my legs were now hovering over the ground. Since I was wearing a skirt, my crotch was pressing up against his back.

" Good," He reassures, " Now, wrap your legs around my waist and then your arms around my neck. It'll keep you from slipping off."

I do as he says and then feel Brahms begin to lower himself to the floor and then rise back up again, doing push-ups with me on his back. Since my head was directly next to his, I could hear his grunting and feel his hot breath in my ear. It didn't help that every time Brahms would move up and down, my clit would rub against him.

My panties were starting to get wet but, since Brahms was already drenched in sweat, he can't feel it.

I look at his arms to watch his biceps and triceps flex with the motion. He growls as he pushes his aching body to continue. Brahms then begins picking up the pace. Moving up and down, faster and faster. My hips were grinding hard against his back. It felt so good that my legs tighten around his waist. I think Brahms felt me doing so because he then turns his head to look at me. Our eyes met for a split second before I quickly hid my face in the crook of his neck. Brahms doesn't say anything and keeps going with the steady motion. As my hips continues grinding against his back, I feel it pulsating. Overwhelmed by how much I was enjoying this, I had to bite my lip to try and hold back from making any nosies. But, as Brahms jolts back up, I can't help but let out a whimper into his neck.

Brahms hears it, making him stop suddenly. I release my arms and legs around him, quickly hopping off his back. When he gets up from the ground, I can't even make eye contact. Though, I couldn't avoid him for too long because soon after, he holds me by my chin and tilts my head up to look at him in his eyes. I notice his pupils were dilated and that they were no longer a greenish brown color, but a dark brown, almost black.

He lets go of my chin and I expect him to end the workout right here but instead, he insists that we keep going.

" Do you know how to do a proper squat?" He asks. His voice so much deeper and more serious than before.

I nod my head.

Brahms then bends down to put his head close to my ear, " Show me," he whispers, sending shivers down my spine.

My voice is shaky when I speak, " B-But, I'm wearing a skirt. I can't—"

" Don't make me ask again," he cuts me off.

His voice was so calm and monotone yet, I still feel so threatened by him.

Brahms takes a step back and crosses his arms.

I hold my hands out in front of me and begin squatting. I bend my knees and as I get lower, I feel my skirt rising up. When I get back up, Brahms tells me that my form was off and that I was too stiff.

" You need to move slower on your way down," He says, " and arch your back more," He adds.

I decide to take a different approach to this and ask, " Why don't you watch me from behind?" I suggest, feeling bold.

Brahms tilts his head.

" Maybe from that angle you can see my form better."

Brahms seems hesitant but finally, he moves behind me. Before I bend down to do my squat, I move back a couple inches so that I'm a bit closer to him. Then, I arch my back, bend my knees, and squat. As I do, my skirt lifts, exposing my ass once again and it brushes against Brahms' pelvis. I make sure to rub against him once more when I make my way back up. When I do, I feel something poke me from behind. He's getting hard already.

I continue doing my squats against him. Each time I bend down and get back up, I feel his dick getting harder and harder under the fabric of his gym shorts.

" Nnghh.." I hear Brahms groan.

Just as I was about to go down again, Brahms stops me from doing by holding me at my hips.

" Do you realize what you're doing to me?" He asks, panting breathlessly.

" I'm just doing squats like you asked me to," I respond. I turn my head back and look down, " Seeing how tight your shorts have gotten on you, I guess you can say I've perfected my form, haven't I?"

Brahms ignores me.

I face forward and then glance at the pillow version of myself staring at me from across the room, " You still keep that thing around?" I point.

Brahms' eyes follows the direction of my finger but, doesn't respond.

" I'm beginning to think that you actually don't keep it around for company. Especially since we've been hanging around each other more often, there's no need to keep it for that reason anymore," I say, " There's something else that keeps you from throwing it away."

Brahms lets go of me, pushing me away from him slightly.

" You're getting quite aggressive," I point out, " I'm right, aren't I?"

He remains silent.

" Tell me, Brahms," I say, turning around to face him, " Why do you still have it?"

Brahms tries to back away but, I stop him. I take my hand and rub my palm over his clothed, erection.

" I—," He stutters, " I sleep with it."

I rub harder and then slowly begin to pull down on his shorts using my index finger. I put my hand inside and wrap my fingers around his warm cock.

" Fuck..." He curses.

" And? What else do you do with it?"

" I...I—."

" Don't make me ask again" I say, copying his words from earlier.

I try to get a peak into Brahms' shorts. I was curious to see if he was as big as he feels in my hand.

" — I pretend it's you and... Rub my cock against it," Brahms finally admits.

" I knew it. You pervert," I call him, " I feel much better than the pillow, don't I?"

When I glance up, I expect Brahms to be hunched over me but instead, he's standing up straight. Looking at me with raging eyes. He grabs me by my wrist tightly, making me lose my grip on him. He then takes my hand out of his shorts, making me feel defenseless all over again.

" Do you not realize the danger of the situation that you're putting yourself into?" He asks.

I tilt my head, confused, " What do you mean?"

" You come down to my room, hearing what you think is me playing with myself and instead of turning around to leave, you stand behind my door to eavesdrop. And then, when I ask you about it, you have the nerve to lie and then proceed to call me the pervert," Brahms takes a deep breath and continues, " You're wearing a skirt barely long enough to cover your ass. You did your squats rubbing up against me and then put your hands down my shorts."

Seeing him all sexually frustrated like this has me scared and turned on at the same time.

" You know how touch deprived I am and yet, you play these games with me. God, Y/n. You actually made me feel so weak for a second..." He pauses, " I'm gonna have to show you who's the one in control around here because it seems as though it's not quite clear to you yet."

Brahms slowly comes towards me, eyes burning with desire. He then takes me by the hand and begins pulling me out the door, into the hallway of the walls.

" Where are you taking me?" I ask, following behind him.

" Upstairs."

" For what?"

" You've been a bad girl, Y/n... A very bad girl," He growls, " You need to be punished."