Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 62063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
“Please…” I began, my voice trembling, but Delacroix cut me off with a glance.
“Silence,” he hissed. “You are nothing but a fucking piece, girl. Your only value is in how you can serve me.”
“Monsieur,” Marcus interjected, stepping forward slightly. His eyes flickered to mine, a brief connection that sent a thrill through my whole body. “If I may suggest another form of punishment?”
Delacroix arched an eyebrow, apparently intrigued. “Go on.”
“Rather than killing her,” Marcus proposed, his voice steady, “why not take pleasure in using her very harshly? We could close her pussy, ensuring she remains untouched there. Then, tomorrow night, you could have the satisfaction of deflowering both her mouth and anus.”
“Close her pussy?” Delacroix repeated, a sadistic gleam lighting up his eyes. “Interesting. You told me about that a few months ago, with Irene. It seemed a little excessive for her offense, but perhaps it suits Sophia’s here. I think you said it was harmless, but it makes a cunt very tight?”
“And it makes it very difficult for her to climax,” Marcus said, nodding.
I couldn’t help it: I had taken my eyes off Delacroix so I could see Marcus’ face, too. I couldn’t read his expression. Panic awoke in my belly as I tried to understand.
The room seemed to shrink around me as the true horror of Marcus’ plan sank in. Was he trying to protect me by keeping me alive, or was this merely a more convenient way of getting rid of me? My terror mingled, to my dismay, with insane, unwanted arousal, the sharp edge of need cutting through my thoughts.
“Very well,” Delacroix said, taking a sip of his whisky. “Let’s proceed with your plan. But know this, Marcus—if she disappoints me again, death will be a mercy. Also, you’ll whip her tomorrow night before I fuck her face and her ass.”
“Understood, Master,” Marcus responded, his gaze locked onto mine.
As Marcus pulled me upright and led me out of Delacroix’s bedroom, the leash tugging insistently, my mind whirled with conflicting emotions. I had narrowly escaped death, only to face an ordeal that promised untold pain and degradation. Yet, even amid the fear, a part of me couldn’t help but yearn for the touch of Marcus’ hands, whether they would bring punishment or forbidden pleasure.
I shuddered, each step making the leather of my training harness chafe against my skin, my nakedness as always enhancing my never-ceasing sense of vulnerability. The corridor seemed endless, shadows playing tricks on my already frayed nerves. I could almost hear Delacroix’s cruel smile in the silence behind us, a silent promise of the torment to come.
“Marcus,” I whispered, risking his ire. “The door… it was unlocked. I… I didn’t…”
“Was it now?” His voice was cool, unreadable. He glanced back at me, his piercing blue eyes assessing, before turning away. “I’ll make sure it’s secured tonight.”
He appeared to accept my explanation, but the knot in my stomach told me otherwise. As he guided me to my bedroom, the heavy oak door loomed like a sentinel of doom. He opened it and stepped aside, using the leash to usher me inside.
“Tomorrow will be very difficult, Sophia, because of what you’ve done,” he said, his voice softer yet no less stern as he unclipped the leash and put it back in his pocket. “Get some rest.”
Alone in my room, the huge weight of the impending punishment and the terrible prospect of my first night with my evil, sadistic owner pressed down on me. My mind reeled, replaying the events over and over. Marcus’ face, so stoic, yet had his eyes betrayed something deeper? Delacroix’s words, dripping with malice and dark promises. And me, caught in a web of desire and dread, both helpless and aroused by my plight.
The thought of having my pussy closed sent a thrill through me, a twisted anticipation that mingled with my fear. I couldn’t help myself. My fingers found their way between my legs, trembling as they explored the slick heat of my need. I imagined Marcus’ hands, strong and unyielding, sealing my labia shut, making me his in the most intimate, excruciating way.
“Please,” I whispered into the darkness, feeling the wetness spread as my fingers moved rhythmically. “Marcus…”
I blushed furiously, my breath hitching as I pictured him whipping me, teaching me a terrible lesson. The pain, the humiliation, the raw intensity of it all—my body responded with a desperate urgency. My fingers delved deeper inside the place my real master, my miles, would seal, would forbid.
The sensation felt so overwhelming that it sent my other hand behind me, to touch the awful plug, widening me for my owner’s hardness. Would Monsieur fuck my bottom as hard as Marcus had? Harder?
“Yes… oh god, yes…” I moaned, my hips bucking between my two hands, riding my own forbidden touch in desperate search of release. When my climax surged through me at last, it left me panting and spent.