Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
It wasn’t that I had a huge experience with kisses, especially not kisses that really meant anything. I couldn’t have put into words how I knew his meant more than the token gesture of mouth on mouth for the viewers. But I did know it.
I felt it with all of me. My heart soared in spite of the pain. Cried in glee as the tears of hurt rolled down my face.
I just hoped he could feel how much I wanted him right back. Fear meant nothing. The way his view on the world was so crippling in its differences to mine meant nothing. He was the only thing that meant anything in that moment as his tongue battled with mine and won.
I would have kissed him for all time. The beautiful strength of the beautiful monster was enough that my soul soared free, my senses lost to anything bar how his painful touch felt so good.
My arms were screaming from the strain, my skin on fire from the lashes he’d rained all over me, my thighs trembling. My clit was raw but still screaming for more. My insides felt bruised and battered, stretched hard by his knuckles.
None of it should have felt right. None of it should have done anything other than set me screaming for release, money be damned.
But it did feel right. All of it felt so right.
His mouth was hot. His hands were rough as they crushed my hurting tits to my chest and tweaked my nipples. My flailing like a fish on a line was different now. Instead of squirming away from the punishment I was straining for more. Opening my thighs when I’d been doing my best to close them. Offering him the most intimate parts of me like the wanton little slut he was portraying me as for the cameras. Only it was genuine.
I was genuine.
My want for him was as real as real could be, and I knew he felt that. Just as I felt his from him.
I groaned when he pulled away, mouthing a ‘please’ for more with my eyes locked firmly on his. He looked disoriented as he backed away, confused even.
Welcome to the club, I thought, and a smile graced my lips.
I saw his lips twitch at that, and he stalked away behind me. Hiding. He was hiding.
He used his hand next to hurt me, slapping my ass hard and sending me forward in the chains. My nerves were fried enough that I couldn’t tell the difference between pleasure and pain. It was weird. All of me felt so weird.
Another slap and he snaked his fingers down my front and onto my clit, circling hard as he spanked me over and over. I was limp in my chains, my toes taking the most of my weight as I grunted and rocked to the rhythm. It took everything I had to remember to keep my eyes on the cameras in front of me, not caring about anything other than heeding his instructions.
I didn’t care that a world of rich men were feasting their eyes on my pain and punishment. I didn’t care that I must have looked a desperate mess with pinked up skin all over. I didn’t care I was being used as a filthy little doll or that I was begging for more in a pathetic whimper when his fingers on my clit did their bidding.
The tears came back when he pulled away all over again and headed to the rack for the next punishment tool. It was a long thin whip, without all the tails of the last one. I was smiling to the cameras even as the tears rolled down my face, lost to everything but giving my body to his without a care for the world.
The tears were mute. Raw. My smile was just as raw along with them.
“Please, sir…” I whispered, and I had no idea what I was really asking for.
“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked, and tickled my bare back with a taste of the whip that was coming.
Sweetheart. He called me sweetheart in that place.
“Please…” I said again, but didn’t follow it up with anything.
“Watch your mouth and take what you’re given,” he told me, and I nodded. I could feel my smile was still strangely bright. Dumb, maybe. Spaced out, definitely.
The strike of the whip took it right off my face. It hurt like a slice of liquid fire, right across my shoulder blades. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything but wail and flail in the chains like a woman gone mad.
And then I stopped. Retched. Shook.
Waited.
The next was just as hard. It sent me reeling all over again, another line of fire across my back.
“Owww, sir!” I wailed. “Owww, sir, it hurts!”
“Yes, it does,” he said. “And you will take the pain like a good girl. Yes?”