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</div>Being heir to a small fortune and a minor title was not everything it was cracked up to be as far as Lady Florence Amelia Urquhart was concerned. The fact that her surname was either misspelled or mispronounced by most of the people in the country she was living in didn't help either. People in the USA seemed to love the fact that she was related to the Queen of England - however distantly (one of her female ancestors on her father's side was a sibling of the mother of one of the kings of Scotland who was an ancestor of James VI who became James I of England, or something like that). She was here because the young man she'd met at at a three-day event and who had pursued her inexorably until she agreed to go out with him.<br/><br/>He had eventually talked her into his bed. Amy had been reluctant, because she didn't want to jeopardise her inheritance or future, not that she was the one inheriting the title - the nineteenth Duke of Ayrshire would be her older brother, when their father, the eighteenth Duke, passed on. But sleeping with the son of an American entrepreneur was something she worried that her family might frown upon. Still, at least he wasn't after her for her money.<br/><br/>Karl was the heir to the Frazer-Hughes fortune, which alone made him one of the most eligible bachelors in the world. The press had a field-day when the two of them were caught together on camera, and when she moved to the States to be with him, there were all sorts of rumour and speculation about wedding bells.<br/><br/>All of this, of course, was stuff Amy was used to. Equally, she was used to taking charge when things were not going the way she felt they should. The Halloween party that the entertainment committee were organising was a case in point. "No, look, there is no way we can ask people to buy their own pumpkins. If we're going to have a jack-o-lantern carving contest, we need to supply the pumpkins so that they are all the same size, and that way no-one has an unfair advantage. Either that or we allocate a budget for entrants to spend and have them produce receipts to prove they don't go over, that way they can buy a large pumpkin and a few decorations, or a small pumpkin and a lot of decorations..."<br/><br/>Her logic was, as ever, impeccable, and her commanding, authoritative tone cut through the argument, her high-born Scots accent helping to establish her authority. As usual, everyone agreed with her, and after a quick unanimous vote, the committee meeting ended an hour early. Amy heaved a sigh as she walked back to the room she was sharing with Karl. Sometimes she just wanted people to disagree with her, tell her she was wrong. As she came out of the lift, she saw someone in the corridor that she pretended to completely despise, but actually was totally envious of.<br/><br/>Amy knew her only as MJ, although she wasn't sure if that was initials or a word, "Emjay". All her 'friends' told her she should steer clear of that one, that MJ was 'bad news' and 'no good', and that she was destined to end her days in prison. Amy didn't see that. All she saw was a young woman who didn't give a fuck (And Amy had to force herself to even think the word) about what anyone else thought of her. And that was a freedom that Amy envied. Her life was prescribed for her, written rules, standards of etiquette and behaviour she must follow.  And quite frankly she was fed up with it. It would probably only take a small push to make her snap.<br/><br/>A small push. Not a massive one. Not opening the door to her boyfriend's room to see him sitting on the bed, an expression of pure ecstasy on his face, stark naked, and her best friend in the university, Louise McGreggor, kneeling at his feet, also stark naked, her face buried in his crotch. The one thing she flatly refused to do... well, technically, one of the many things, but he had only asked about putting it in her 'back door' the once, he could see the wisdom of using a condom, he hadn't even asked her about using his mouth on her, or any number of other kinkier things that she had never even heard of and would almost certainly have said no if he had suggested them.<br/><br/>But the one thing he had asked her to do several times, and she had refused, was take his cock in her mouth. And that, she realised, was exactly what Louise was doing. And at the same time she realised that he'd stopped asking her a couple of months back, and his desire to have regular sex with her had gone down at about the same time. Actually she had been a bit relieved because if she was honest with herself she didn't enjoy it much... But that wasn't the point.<br/><br/>The point was, Karl was her boyfriend, supposedly her fiancé-to-be (although he hadn't asked her it was widely assumed in<i>Society</i>that he would), and he was having his cock sucked by the person who was supposed to be her best friend.<br/><br/>She stood there for what seemed like an hour, but was actually only a few seconds, rooted to the spot, mouth open, unable to move. Something made Karl open his eyes and he saw her standing there. He at least had the good grace to blush, but he just smiled and shrugged.<br/><br/>Amy was beyond tears at that point. She was beyond anger. Just....<i>numb.<br/>
</i><br/>She turned away, leaving the door open, blindly, and bumped into someone. "Oh... S- sorry..."<br/><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="2145" data-username="@NightmareSam" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/2145/">@NightmareSam</a>