Ch 50 - Karma & Retribution Pt 1 - Ten months later

Zoey is going home for the day. She's had a hard day and is looking to unwind. Her father is at home, delighting in Vorin's body. He can't seem to get enough of it. This day, she was the object of middle-aged perverts' fantasies as she would try out the latest and greatest prototypes made by Vieregg's employees. If this were any other favor from anyone else, she would have declined immediately. She has been working under him for a while now. His wandering eyes traced and followed every sexy curve of her body. She can never get used to the number of hands looking for an excuse to find their way onto her body. Even Vieregg joined in on the fun and let his hands wander. Zoey didn't mind. He always had a gentle touch. After an exhausting day, she takes a private hot shower before going home. She is giddy with excitement for what awaits her at home. Once she steps into the house, Alex, her boyfriend, is locked in his cage and laid out on the bondage cross.
“You've been a bad boy, huh?” Zoey’s voice was all mock-innocence, but you could see the mischief practically leaking out of her eyes. “Did you have your fun stuffing Charlotte full? Congrats, genius—she popped out a healthy baby girl. We named her Ekaterina Alexandra. Or Alex. After you, obviously. Because irony is alive and well.”

Alex started squirming, like he’d just noticed his situation for the first time. “Uh, babe, can we maybe discuss this? Is the chastity cage really necessary? And the bondage cross—was that on sale or something? How did I even get strapped to this thing? This can’t be OSHA approved.”

Zoey just rolled her eyes, switching gears with zero warning. “You absolute idiot. Cheating on me with Celeste and her friend wasn’t enough? You had to go chasing after Charlotte, too? Like, you were literally told she’s off-limits! But no, you just had to go and knock her up, didn’t you?”

Alex snapped, flailing his hands like a man trying to swat away a swarm of bees. “It’s not my fault! Your dad—AJ—and Vieregg—don’t get me started on that clown—hogged all the fun. Seriously, Idun, Nora, Vorin? Those girls are way outta their league. They like me. What was I supposed to do, say no? Their bodies are literal art. Letting those two fossils have all the action would’ve been a crime. What choice did I even have?!”

Zoey just smirked, eyes sparkling with pure chaos. “So lemme get this straight—you screw half my friends and somehow it’s everyone else’s fault? Adorable.” She waggled her brows. “Alright, champ, time to sing for your supper. Gimme a sec, my beautiful disaster.”

Zoey tiptoes into the corridor like she’s sneaking into a midnight kitchen raid, heart thumping, eyes wide. She hovers by a door cracked open just enough to catch her two brothers, Elias and Eliam, locked in some kind of synchronized chaos with Monica. Seriously, it’s like a tag team wrestling match—except the prize is Monica’s dignity, and she’s losing hard. Instead of a steel chair, they’re wielding “re-education.” Monica’s getting schooled on how to be the world’s most obedient sub, and Zoey can practically feel the secondhand embarrassment oozing through the air.

The guilt hits her like a cold slap. She should’ve saved Charlotte. Should’ve done something. But Monica, sneaky genius, wriggled out from under Charlotte’s thumb. Charlotte’s secret weapon? Completely worthless now; she’s out of commission, trussed up and gagged like some villain in a Saturday morning cartoon. No special words for escape there.

Meanwhile, Monica and Melanie are plotting their revenge like a pair of supervillains in a soap opera. Charlotte? Unsuspecting target—wrong place, wrong time, and apparently, way too cocky for her own good. She needed a hard dose of reality, and boy, did she get one.

Zoey’s glued to the camera feeds, rewinding life like it’s an old VHS tape she can’t stop watching—trying to catch the moment everything swerved off the rails. Props to Vieregg for suggesting voice-enabled cameras; that little upgrade just turned detective mode up to eleven. Only now does the ugly truth click into place—Charlotte’s stuck in a nightmare, and Monica and Alex have been puppeteering the whole circus from the shadows. It’s twisted, dramatic, and Zoey? She’s hooked, whether she likes it or not. Something snapped in her, straight up. Like, we’re talking full-on villain origin story vibes—her mind just twisted up, dark and ugly. She’d already had beef with Monica forever (seriously, those two couldn’t stand each other), and now she had fresh targets: Melanie and Monica, the ones who took Charlotte down. If Charlotte hadn’t ended up pregnant? Yikes. She’d probably be next in their crosshairs. Gives you the creeps, honestly.

“Make sure she feels her place, yeah?” she said, all cold and bossy. “Girl’s been acting out, thinking she’s still in charge. Time to remind her she’s just a bratty little slut.”

Eliam practically bounced, way too hyped. “Hell yeah! Let’s teach this slut a lesson. Especially Dad’s slut.”

Elias, always the worrier, piped up. “Like, are we really sure it’s smart to mess around with Dad’s wife? Our stepmom? Sure, the sex is wild, but this has disaster written all over it.”

Eliam rolled his eyes so hard you could practically hear it. “Bro, your dick’s just as hard as mine. Don’t act innocent. The more you think, the dumber you sound. Monique needs to get what’s coming, period. Plus, word is she’s been screwing with Charlotte. She’s got this punishment coming.”

Elias just muttered, “God, you’re such a Neanderthal. But let’s be real, we’re always ready to go. Shoutout to Dad’s side of the family for that, I guess. And when she shakes her ass like that? Yeah, good luck resisting.”

Zoey jumped in, clearly loving the drama. “Exactly! No reason to feel bad here. Monique totally blew her shot at trust. I mean, gotta hand it to her—she was sneaky as hell, kept up her act for ages. Even with all that brainwashing, she still found a way to mess with Charlotte’s head.”

“So, what’s up with Charlotte?” Elias sounded worried for once, which, let’s be real, was kind of sweet.

“She’s hanging in there—resting up, but recovery’s slow. Poor thing’s got her perfect ass stuck in diapers till she heals up. What a mess.”

Oh, Monica’s caught in her own web now, and honestly? It’s poetic. Those brothers? Yeah, they’re serving her a big ol’ slice of payback pie. She’s gotten sharper—like, sly-fox sharp—but turns out, she’s not the only one studying the playbook. Everyone’s upped their game. Wild, right? Honestly, this whole mess dragged on just ’cause Charlotte kept her mouth shut, probably terrified of being embarrassed. Well, that ship’s sailed—the truth’s out, and Charlotte doesn’t have to hide anymore. Let’s see how Monica handles the spotlight now.

“Well, well, Monique, just look at this masterpiece of mayhem you whipped up,” Zoey teased, her eyes practically rolling out of her head. “Honestly, did you really think you could just waltz through your own soap opera and nobody would clock what you were up to? Dragging out your little vengeance saga, savoring every dramatic minute—was it everything you dreamed of? Bet it tasted better than victory cake.

Here’s the kicker: you had a whole peanut gallery rooting for you, you know. People saying your punishment was over the top—Vieregg’s basically ready to start a fan club for you. Meanwhile, you’re running around throwing up smoke bombs and dragging your devious sister into your schemes. Bold strategy! Spoiler: Dad’s been calling you out since day one.

And guess who spilled the tea? Yup, yours truly. Gave him the director’s cut of your latest episode. He was… let’s just say, not clapping. But hey, silver lining for me: he handed me the keys to your whole training circus. Buckle up, Monique—it’s gonna be a wild ride.”

Monica writhes in discomfort, utterly helpless against the two beasts, Elias and Eliam. They resemble two famished bears eyeing a prime cut of meat. Elias, who once hesitated at the thought of being intimate with his stepmother, begins to tear away her garments. She is unable to resist. Her mouth is silenced with a gag, and her limbs are bound, limiting her every move. The consequences of her actions towards Charlotte have come back to haunt her in full force. The two tempests collide, unleashing a whirlwind of chaos with Monica trapped in the eye of the storm. It seems she is in for a long, arduous night. Meanwhile, Zoey exits the room and unexpectedly encounters their mother, Aunt Gina.

"How are my two little tempests?" Gina inquired, beaming with pride as she observed her sons dismantling Monica. "My dear boys have matured so quickly. I recall when they used to tug at my skirt, always pleading for their mother’s embrace. And now, look at them, they are spreading their wings, venturing out into the world."

“Aunt Gina, you do realize what they’re doing is literally rape, right?” Zoey throws it out there, all mock-concern, barely bothering to hide the smirk.

Gina just shrugs, way too calm for Zoey’s taste. “Oh, honey, she’s getting exactly what she earned. You have no idea what I’ve seen, kiddo. Warzones, chaos—women always get it the worst. Rape, kidnapping, sold off like damn cattle, starved, humiliated—pick your poison. Hell, even before Norway stomped into the South, I was a slave under some psycho regime. You wanna talk about evil? We did stuff I can’t even say out loud. Sold girls to hucow farms, threw them in fighting pits just for laughs, filmed the most degrading crap for the black market—seriously, that was the mild stuff. After a while, none of it shocks you. You go numb. Honestly? She’s lucky this is all that’s happening to her right now.”

Zoey just hums, playing with her hair, looking bored. “Sure, but we can’t let her run wild. Or trust her alone with anyone, me included. Which brings me to my point—I need you to help break the other one.”

Gina snorts, like Zoey’s just asked her to teach a cat to swim. “Breaking that girl’s stubborn streak? Not something an amateur can pull off, but it’s doable. Her biggest flaw? Thinks she’s untouchable—cocky, manipulative, all that. Lucky for you, I know a few… let’s just say, old-school mind tricks that’ll shatter her ego real quick.”

“Great, let’s go say hi then,” Zoey grins, already walking. “My mom’s in there with her and Uncle Vieregg.”

Uncle Vieregg squirmed a bit, tied up as he was, while Zoey leaned in close—like way too close for comfort, honestly—and hit him with the truth bomb. “Uncle Vieregg, sorry for roping you into this mess,” she said, squeezing his arm. “But, listen, you deserve the real story about our so-called star employee. Or, you know, the actual snake slithering around the office. Dad said with your legendary chocolate addiction—yeah, he calls it an ‘infection,’ but who’s judging—you’d know how to handle this kinda drama. She’s been outta line. Bet you’ve caught some of her antics already. All happening right under your nose, too. Dad said you’re the guy for handing out justice. Don’t waste your sympathy on her. She’s not worth it.”

With that, Zoey yanked out her phone and shoved it in front of him, hitting play on a series of videos. Monica and Melanie absolutely wrecking Charlotte; Vieregg could hear every scream. It was brutal. Alex was mixed up in it, too, just as shady as ever. Charlotte’s mind was just crumbling, over and over, and the things they did to her—let’s just say it was pretty twisted. The infamous Odin dildo made its unwelcome cameo. Vieregg always thought Alex was a plague, honestly—a total eyesore for the company, but occasionally useful if you squinted hard enough.

After a few seconds of these horrors, it clicked for Vieregg: Zoey and Lisa had just handed him his freedom, and maybe a shot at payback. He stood up, shaking off the ropes, and barked out, “Alright, everyone out. Now.” No more Mr. Nice Uncle.

All I ever craved was a halfway normal existence, Vieregg thought, practically pulling his hair out. “Just once, universe! One boring Tuesday, is that so much to ask? Instead, I get saddled with this pint-sized demon in disguise. And AJ’s clan? They’re everywhere. I must’ve pissed off the gods in a past life—maybe I stole their lunch money or something.”

Eliam blinked at him, face all innocent but voice full of mischief. “Wait, Uncle Eggy, people torment you? Seriously? You? You’re, like, weirdly lovable for a cranky old dude.”

Vieregg shot him a look that could turn a flower to stone. “Oh, stuff your sarcasm somewhere dark, Eliam. And listen—if that girl breaks loose, I’ll have Sylvia slap the world’s tiniest cage on your freakish, oversized dicks. We’ll leave you like that until you learn to keep your mouth shut. Bet your dad wouldn’t even blink. Now, scram!”

Elias, never one to read a room, leaned in with a smirk. “So, what keeps you up at night, Uncle Eggy? Boogeymen? Existential dread? Or just us?”

“Elias, don’t tempt me. I’ll wring your neck like a dishrag, swear to God,” Vieregg snarled, eyes glinting like a street cat’s in a dark alley. “Better start praying—tonight might just chew you up.”

Elias, always the drama king, slapped on a pout. “Okay, okay, chill out! You want us gone? Fine, all you had to do was ask. No need to go full villain monologue.” He flounced out, muttering curses that’d make a sailor blush.

Eliam, bless him, didn’t pick up on the storm clouds at all. “Uncle Eggy! I’ve got the cure for your crankiness, straight from the gods—a Kaggen Agitator Stormakts Porter!” His grin was pure mischief as he waved the bottle around like it was an actual treasure.

Vieregg snatched it, glaring daggers. “This isn’t even my favorite, you little gremlin,” he growled, but whatever—down the hatch it went, like liquid amnesia. Maybe, just maybe, it’d take the edge off this circus.

Melanie’s laugh doesn’t just bubble up—it erupts, echoing off the walls like some villain in a bad soap opera. She’s practically doubled over, and for a second, you’d think she was auditioning for a stand-up gig. “Monica played you all like a kazoo? Seriously? You’re every bit as sad as she said.” Ouch. She’s not pulling punches; she’s throwing haymakers. I mean, let’s be real, sneaking around these folks is about as challenging as stealing candy from a narcoleptic toddler. Vieregg? He’s ancient, probably smells like mothballs and regret. AJ? The guy is the poster child for “divorced dad energy,” chasing after anything in a skirt and thinking he’s still got it. Neither of them could find self-control with a GPS and a flashlight. Honestly, it’s almost impressive how much money they can waste on bad decisions. ‘And you all just—’

And then—bam! Outta nowhere, a sound slices the air. Not just any sound, but that whip—think Indiana Jones, but meaner. Melanie’s scream shatters the moment like a dropped glass, her bravado evaporating in seconds. The room? Ice cold. Comedy hour? Over. Everyone’s heads snap around so fast it’s a miracle nobody gets whiplash.

At the center of it all? Gina. Damn, she’s terrifying—whip in hand, eyes blazing like she’s about to rewrite the Ten Commandments. Even Vieregg suddenly remembers how to sit up straight, and Zoey’s jaw drops.

Gina doesn’t miss a beat. Her voice? Velvet-wrapped razor blades. “Zoey, honey, make Alex feel welcome. Introduce him to the Great Goblin. Kid needs a crash course in respect.”

Yeah, laughter died a brutal death in that room.

“Yeah, Auntie, whatever you say,” Zoey called over her shoulder, half-grinning. “Time to go drag sleeping beauty outta bed before the guillotine drops.”

Gina didn’t miss a beat. “Eliam, your turn. Shoo. Go play with your brother and that witchy Monica. Try not to burn the place down, alright?”

Eliam just rolled his eyes—classic teen energy. “Okay, Mom.” He disappeared, probably plotting something mildly illegal with Monica already.

And then—kaboom—another banshee screech ripped through the house.

“AAAAAIAIIIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!” Melanie again, poor thing. Gina and her ninja-whip routine? Straight-up legendary. No one’s cracked the mystery. One second, everything’s normal; next, she’s Indiana Jones.

“Vieregg, yeah?” That voice could curdle milk. “You’re the boss here. Don’t let some fool think they run wild in your kingdom. Punish her. Break her down. Take what you want—don’t forget Charlotte, or you’ll regret it. Or, if you’re too soft, I’ll step in and, trust me, I don’t do mercy.”

Vieregg, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else—even a dentist’s chair—managed, “You’re right. I—I’ll handle it.”

“I went all out and got the turbo-charged Odin Dildo,” Gina announced, brandishing it like she’d just won the naughty Olympics. “And nope, not a drop of lube. She’ll get slick fast enough—and if she doesn’t, well, sucks to be her. Also, we gotta tackle your whole chocolate obsession. Priorities, right?”

He froze up tighter than a squirrel in traffic. Was he gonna argue? Not a chance. That whip in Gina’s hand was a glowing ‘do-not-disturb’ sign. Maybe she wouldn’t actually use it, but who wants to roll those dice?

Gina’s gaze snapped to Melanie, sharp as broken glass. “Alright, Ms. Melanie Black,” she purred, voice dripping with that ‘I-know-your-type’ energy. “Let me spell it out for you. Wise folks only talk about what they actually understand. These people? Not your average chess pieces. If Vieregg hadn’t stepped up to handle your punishment, trust me, you’d be getting a front-row seat to a masterclass in humility. I used to be a slave soldier—I know how to knock sense into someone, and you’d be learning exactly what it means to serve, real quick. And by the way, that so-called manwhore? He’s my guy. We’ve got strong boys together. Everyone here loves him, so if you ever try to badmouth him again? Forget the small talk. You’ll be making friends with this whip, no introductions needed. Got it?”