Diavolo

For the first time, Abigail saw her aunt Paulina throw her head back and laugh. Genuinely laugh. "Really? Well, Abigail is more of a saint than I thought." She fluttered her hands, glittering diamonds on each finger as she turned away and headed toward the study. "Be off with your talks of weddings. Just remember I hired the best wedding coordinator to organize this whole thing. It is after all my only son. This event must be done tastefully to say the least. We have a reputation to keep."

With that, she disappeared around the bend of the corridor toward the study.

***

Mikayla's room was a mess despite the servants' best efforts to keep it tidy. Loud music blared from her surround sound system, making Abigail's already throbbing headache bloom to nightmarish levels.

Abigail was practically shoved into the enormous suite of rooms by her mother and then abandoned.

Just like Abigail's suite a few doors down the corridor, Mikayla's opened to a large sitting room first. There was a balcony overlooking the side of the estate and the gardens below. The back of the estate had the best views, but those rooms were reserved for auntie Paulina, Daniel II and any important guest they might have come for a visit.

Still, the scent of the pacific ocean blew in through the wide balcony doors, making the gauzy white curtains dance lazily in the salty breeze.

The sun was setting, making the room glow in golden light.

Her feet sank into plush, stark-white carpet as she made her way toward the bedroom.

There were more clothes and shoes strewn everywhere here as well. Right over the fireplace was the source of the loud music. The ninety-inch flat screen projected, in all their sweaty glory, a band of long-haired males belting out a seductive hard driving tune that had Abigail stopping in her tracks to gape. The guitarist's black t-shirt clung to his honed body as his fingers flew deftly over the strings of his instrument. Though she did not care for the loud, pulsing music, she did realize it took talent and many years of practice to be able to play with the dexterity and precision the young musician displayed.

Flashes of a man, exquisitely muscled with dark tawny skin, and a mane of jet-black hair, caught her interest. He had wings inked on his sculpted back. Priding herself for having an eye for true masterpieces, Abigail had to admit he had the body worthy of any sculptor immortalizing in stone or perhaps a painter upon his canvas.

The man began to sing, his deep voice captivating her, until that hauntingly deep baritone rose and became guttural. Savage, wild, riveting...that was what this man was.

Arms being thrown around her, startled a little scream from Abigail.

"Biatch! What are you doing in town?" Mikayla squealed exuberantly as she spun poor Abigail around in joy.

Abby's glasses flew in one direction and the pins of her hair in another.

After Abigail's shoes finally fell off, Mikayla dropped her dizzy sister and plopped herself on her king-sized bed.

Abigail had to grip the edges of the mantle to steady herself. Over her head, the lead singer of the rock band caressed his chest suggestively.

Abigail moaned and looked away.

Mikayla watched her like a predatory animal, her red hair wild around her shoulders as she lounged in panties and bra.

Abigail felt herself flush. She was used to seeing her sister parade around in her under things, but the under things she wore now were barely tiny little scraps of satin and lace.

Oh my.

"So what brings you out of your convent and back into the land of sin?" Mikayla grinned evilly.

"Mother begged me to come and talk to you..."

Mikayla groaned and flopped back on the bed with a long whine. "Noooo—please. No more long sermons about Gabriel Raven. I like him and I'll toss him aside when I get tired of him...promise," she said on a long, tired, drawn-out breath. "I need to sow my oats before settling down and growing into an old married hag. Besides, Daniel is no fun. He's so stuffy, he won't even let me suck his cock for cripes sake!"

"Mikayla!" Abigail screeched in indignation. Her cheeks grew hot and she fanned herself.

Her twenty-six-year-old baby sister laughed loudly, rolling around on the bad and kicking her feet. "Are you fucking kidding me, Abby? Please don't tell me you've never sucked a dick before! You're frigging twenty-eight-years-old!"

"Mikayla, please! That's so gross and vulgar."

Mikayla popped up off the bed and gripped Abigail again, spinning her around so that she faced the flat screen.

"There's nothing gross or vulgar about it, Abs. It's empowering. Look at him—"

Abigail did. The lead singer had his head thrown back, his hips grinding slowly as he sang, voice full of passion.

"Take it...take it...take all of me...all of my love," he crooned making Abigail's hair stand on end. She barely repressed the urge to shudder and shook her head squeezing her eyes tight.

"You know how cool it is to drive them crazy, know you've got them riding the edge of lust and pleasure."

Abigail shook out of her sister's hold and faced her angrily. "But what of Daniel? He doesn't deserve this, Mikayla."

Mikayla's eyes grew cold and aloof as she studied her perfect French manicure. "Daniel is gone on business, doing Daniel things. It isn't as if I'm going to dump his ass." She winced and looked up at Abigail with a sheepish grin. "Oops. Sorry about that. You're not mad, are you? I mean you wanted to be a nun, you know. So it was all for the best."

Abigail swallowed her hurt and shook her head. "Mikayla, please. You should remain pure for your—"

"Oh-my-god, woman! What century were you born? Fuck, you seriously need to get laid before you get your habit or whatever the hell it is you guys do. Are you going to shave your head? I've heard nuns do that." Mikayla wrinkled her nose and fluffed her own thick waist-length tresses.

Abigail sputtered. "N-no. Stop trying to change the subject, Mikayla."

Her sister's green eyes bulged and her teeth flashed in a molar to molar grin. "Oh-my-god! What a great idea! I'll take you to Gabe's bash and we'll get you laid. Nothing too wild, since this is obviously your first time...is it?"

Abigail could barely contain the flap of her jaw as she struggled to keep up with her sister. "Of course! No—I'm not having sex. Mikayla—"

"Nonsense," Mikayla exclaimed running over to her private bar and retrieving a glass of amber liquid. "Here. Drink this. Liquid courage. Jack will loosen you up. You won't feel a thing!"

"No! Mikayla stop," Abigail protested as her sister tried to force her to drink whatever Jack was. It smelled awful. "I don't drink alcohol."

"Great, this can be your first too. Yippee! This is so much fun, Abby. I'll make a woman out of you yet."

To Abigail's dismay, the smelly drink sloshed all over her, ruining her suit. "Mikayla!"

He sister just laughed and dumped the rest of the drink right over Abigail's head. She danced away, laughing.

"You better hit the shower and get dressed quick. I'm going to do my hair and makeup. Angelo is coming to pick us up."

"Wait—what? Who is Angelo?" Abigail barely restrained herself from wailing in misery.

"The drummer from Diavolo." Mikayla rolled her eyes, looking exasperated, "Hellooo. Geez, Abs."

Abigail blinked at her in shock. "The band's name is what?"

Mikayla grinned at her as she shimmied into a silver skirt—oh—it was an indecently short dress

Sweet Baby Jesus!

"Diavolo," her sister repeated with relish as she shook out her hair and frowned at the straps of her bra.

With a shrug, Mikayla took the offending garment off and bounced on her toes a few times so that her breasts jiggled as she laughed.

Either Abigail was hallucinating, or Mikayla had gone up a few cup sizes since she last saw her.

"Oh, I need more ice," Mikayla sputtered racing out of the room.

Abigail just stared after her, hair dripping onto her ruined clothes.

As she gaped down at herself, at a loss as to what to do, her mother rushed in.

"Well?" she snapped at Abigail.

Abigail just stared at her a few seconds before saying, "wouldn't it be easier to just have her committed? Mother, she is insane!"

Her mother scowled. "Don't be ridiculous. We'd never live down the shame. No one in our lineage has ever been committed."

Their lineage?

Her mother talked about them as if they were royalty, not the penniless survivors of a man who gambled away the family fortune and then killed himself when the stock market crashed.

"She's about to leave!" her mother pointed out signaling toward the door through which Mikayla had raced to find ice.

What the hell did she want with ice anyway? Strange-strange girl.

"What can I do, mother? I can't force her to stay."

Marjorie stomped her foot. "You go with her, you idiot. Watch she doesn't wrap her legs around that damned demon!"

Abigail ran her fingers through her sopping hair. "Great. How am I supposed to keep her from doing that?"

Her mother turned her around and shoved her in the direction of the bathroom. "Find a way. Seduce him yourself. Just keep Mikayla from bedding that devil."

Abigail stared at her mother in horror. She couldn't believe her mother wanted her to...no. It was too horrendous to even contemplate.

"Mother, I've never been with a man. Wouldn't even know the first thing on seducing one." Abigail felt hurt her mother thought so little of her to throw away her virginity just so that Mikayla could keep Daniel.

Her mother lifted her head and stared down her nose at her. "No wonder Daniel dumped you. Abigail, don't look at me like that! Your ideals and morals are more archaic than your grandmother's. Stop being such a selfish prude and save me from becoming destitute." Her mother's last words were uttered tearfully before she spun on her heel and fled the bathroom.

Fingers cold and trembling, Abigail turned on the faucets in Mikayla's bathroom and showered quickly, washing her hair in the process.

In less than ten minutes, she was done and detangling her long hair. Walking out with a large white towel wrapped around her, she stopped in horrified terror when she realized they were no longer alone.

A tall, blond, muscular, pierced, and tattooed man was lounging comfortably on her sister's bed.

He was twirling a pair of stick in his hands until he spotted her and dropped them wide-eyed.

"Ey, you didn't tell me you had a little snack for me, Mickey."

Mikayla was in the process of painting her heart-shaped lips red and looked at Abigail in the mirror.

Abigail had begun to step slowly back toward the bathroom, not liking the hungry way the man looked her up and down.

"Oh, that's just my big sister, Ang."

Angelo, the drummer she'd mentioned earlier, grinned, licking his lips. "Well, she doesn't look very big, but I'll bite."

Mikayla giggled spraying a cloud of perfume around herself. "Don't get any ideas. I'm tossing her to Ariel."

Angelo grimaced, looking at Mikayla as Abigail stumbled over the obstacle course in her sister's room, trying to reach the bathroom to lock her naked self inside.

"Ariel?" the man bellowed. "That ugly fuck? Why would you toss her to him when I'm so gorgeous? This is your sister for fucks sake. Unless you're saving me for yourself." He laughed, his voice deep and throaty. "Ah come-on, Micks. I'll do the both of ya! It'll be fun."

Abigail fell with a pathetic squeak on the chaise lounge just a few feet from the bathroom archway. How the heck did that get there?

Grappling with the towel, she wondered how she would get up without flashing the man whose gaze was now riveted to her thighs.

"I'm done." Mikayla glanced at Abigail with cool aloofness. After rolling her eyes, she gestured to Angelo, "Let's go. She's a little shy. We'll wait for you downstairs, Abby, but if you take too long just get Edvard to take you. I'll leave him the address. Let's go, Ang."

"But I want to see what kind of kitty Abby has under there," he whined pressing his head to the mattress to get a glimpse of Abigail's girlie parts.

Abigail twisted her legs together with an indignant squeal.

Mikayla sneered and yanked him up by his belt buckle. "Let's go, Romeo."

The man's hair came to just past his shoulders, curling in cherubic ringlets. The look he gave her over his shoulder was anything but angelic though.

"Oh-god! What have I gotten myself into?" she whispered still clutching her towel.

"Hurry," her mother said rushing in.

Abigail stared at her, mouth open. "You don't expect me to go naked!"

Her mother grabbed some glittery black material and pushed it into her hands. Abigail dropped her towel and her mother rushed about collecting things.

"W-what are you doing?" Abigail demanded standing frozen.

"Helping you dress. If you don't hurry she'll leave and you'll never find her once she disappears from your sight."

She tossed a tiny scrap of material toward Abigail. "Here. Those still have the tags on them."

Abigail unfolded the tiny black lace thong with a little tag that said $7,500. Her eyes bulged. "This is obscene!"

Her mother yanked the dress from her hands and started to pull it over her head.

"Obscene would be walking out of here without them."

The black sparkly dress barely covered Abigail's ass. Maybe it was a blouse. She just needed some leggings to go with it and some pretty flats.

She hopped around on one foot as she pulled on the thong. It was nothing but a tiny triangle held together by three rhinestone studded strings. "This doesn't cover anything!" Abigail protested.

"It's more for show, Abby. Here, put these shoes on. Hurry please. I think I just heard that wicked disgusting man revv up his Ferrari."

Abigail stared in horror at the red, four-inch stilettos. She'd surely break her neck if she attempted to walk with those.

No matter, her mother was already shoving her out the door.

"You can put them on in the car. Let's go, sweetie. You're such a dear, taking care of your baby sister this way. I always knew I could count on you."

"Mom, I'm not wearing a bra!"

"Oh, honey, you really don't need one. The girls here on the west coast are no smaller than a D cup and you're—what? A B cup?" Her mother had the audacity to tisk behind her back as she practically shoved Abigail down the stairs.

Abigail was a C cup, but that was beside the point. She was being dressed like a tramp and forced to seduce a man her mother repeatedly referred to as devil's spawn and demon; all this to cover the reputation of her sister who really was a tramp.

Marjorie practically shoved Abigail out the front doors.

Barefoot, still clutching the red pumps over her breasts in mortification, she gaped at the red Ferrari sitting in front of the steps leading to the main entry. It purred like a beast waiting to devour her.

Slowly, the top of the car folded down.

Mikayla hung out over the door laughing as Angelo blew out a long puff of smoke from his pouty lips.

"Come-on already. We were going to leave without you." Mikayla opened the door. "Hop in the back. Your hair should dry before we get there with the breeze."

Abigail spotted Angelo trying to look up her dress through the rear-view mirror.

She felt completely naked and out of her element. Lord help her. Even when she used the pool, she was more covered than this!

"You look hot! Ariel's gonna love you!" Mikayla chirped as the car wound its way around the circular driveway.

Angelo balked in the front seat pulling onto the long oak-lined drive that would lead them to the front gates. "Ariel! Why Ariel? I'm available! Don't be mean, Mickey!" Looking at Abigail through the rearview mirror, he added, "listen up, Abs. Don't listen to your sister. She's aiming to set you up with our bass player. He's a miserable fuck. You don't want him. We don't call him Eeyore for nothing. You want me. I'm the sexiest one in the band and the funnest. With me you'll have fun. I'm a fun guy!"

"Oh, put a sock in it. You sound pathetic and desperate," Mikayla snapped impatiently.

"I can't help myself. She's cute. I want her before the others try for her. Once the others get their hands on her she's spoiled goods."

Mikayla punched him in the arm.

"Ow! It's the truth. Every female those idiots fuck turn into psychos. Especially the ones Gabe bangs. Ooowww! Easy on the arms! I'm a delicate musician. These hands here are worth millions."

Abigail and Mikayla screamed when the car coasted toward the edge of the cliff they were already speeding perilously close to, because Angelo lifted his precious hands to admire them.

"Watch where you're going, you idiot!" Mikayla shouted. "I'm too young and beautiful to die yet."

He snorted and gripped the wheel again. "I know what I'm doing. I don't need no backseat drivers. This car is special. It's like Kitt from Knight Rider."

"Crap, Ang," Mikayla scolded him. "How many times do I have to tell you those shows are way before my time. I have no fucking idea what the hell you're talking about."

"Well, that's why your generation is so lost. You grew up with crap. You can't appreciate the good stuff."

"Oh be quiet, moron."

Angelo snorted in disgust. "Mad cow—OW! Stop beating on me!"

"Well then shut-up and just drive!"

When Mikayla turned her head to look to the side, Angelo stuck his tongue out at her behind her back.

They drove for about twenty minutes before turning onto a long winding road up a mountain.

By the time they pulled up to a gothic looking castle, fit for Dracula, Abigail was shiver from the cold. Her hair had dried but she had so little clothing covering her, she just wasn't used to it. Her teeth chattered as she slipped on the red pumps with numb fingers.

Mikayla was out of the Ferrari and bouncing excitedly on the cobble-stoned walkway.

The area was filled with people milling about, mostly dressed in black, leather, and chains. There was lots of leather and chains. For a moment Abigail feared they'd taken her to a BDSM club. She might be innocent about many things, but she wasn't completely ignorant.

All around the monstrous mansion blared loud music. Nothing she was familiar with since she only listened to some jazz and classical.

"Wait," Mikayla blurted. She ran her fingertip over her red mouth and then dotted Abigail's lips. "There so you don't look so washed out."

Abigail was just about to wipe the sticky stuff off her lips until she looked around. All the females were sizing her up. Some just stared at her wide-eyed. Others whispered behind their hands giggling.

Abigail bit her lower lip and looked down, tugging at the hem of the dress that just about covered an inch off her ass. The thong she wore also barely held her feminine parts covered, but her entire backside was bare, with a flimsy elastic pulled taut between her cheeks. It was humiliating. Abigail had never felt so exposed.

Her loose hair fell in messy waves around her shoulders and arms. She pulled it forward to cover the fact she wore no bra and her nipples were about to poke right through the stretchy fabric of the dress.

"Come-on, Abs. Don't let these skanks intimidate you," Mikayla laughed pulling her forward.

To Abigail's chagrin, she stumbled and would have eaten the pavement had Angelo not slipped his muscular arm around her waist.

"Easy there, sweetness. We don't want you to get all banged up," he crooned near her ear. His hand settled low on her waist very close to her groin. He squeezed the slightly jutting presence of her hipbone. "Oh, yeah. You've got some sweet little curves, cutie."

"Stop pawing her, you brute. Hey, Ariel," Mikayla called out, waving enthusiastically to a very tall, skinny guy standing near the entrance to the mansion.

It was dark, but after a while, the lanky bass player straightened and approached them as they made their way closer.