Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
This is the same room as I was in for the last founders’ proposal. The ambience of the place is unforgettable.
My guide gives me a simple arms up instruction before fastening my bound wrists onto a solid hook over my head. I screw my eyes closed when he uses a winch to raise me, precarious on my tiptoes as I strain to keep my position.
To keep my control.
But my control is here to be taken.
Trying to keep it is fighting a battle I’ll never win. Still, my body doesn’t surrender. The adrenaline of fight or flight is well into the red zone.
I hear my guide leave, and again, I’m alone.
I teeter on my tiptoes trying to keep my balance, but they fail me. My breaths are sharp and fast, my world spinning as the memories come flooding back.
The pain.
So much fucking pain.
And so much bliss on the other side of it…
My clients are watching me in my struggle to stay on my feet, I’d bet my life on it. Even though the room feels empty and my chains are echoing as they jangle, I know I’m being studied as I await my fate.
I wonder how many people will be using me tonight. I wonder how many cocks I’m going to take, and how many people are going to beat me and savage me. How many people are going to make me hurt.
A lot.
Through the fear, the excitement is blossoming.
I wonder how many cocks are hard over me right now. How many people are so turned on at the thought of what they’re going to do to their dirty slut, winched and bound. My clit sparks, crazy intense with the flood of adrenaline. I rub my clammy thighs together, glad to feel how wet I am for the founders. I want them to know it.
My wet pussy never lies.
Last time I was in this position, I called out, desperate to know who was out there and what was coming next, but this time I bite my tongue. I’m a good little slut, ready to serve.
I’m in the middle of another attempt at standing on tiptoes when a string of footsteps thump across the hard floor in my direction. I sense myself being circled before one set of feet step up right in front of me. I sense the owner’s face in mine through my hood.
“Good evening, Holly,” he says. “I am your master tonight.”
“Good evening, Master.”
“Are you here to serve? To submit to my will at any cost?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Will you do my bidding, and the bidding of my fellow players, through pain and pleasure?”
“Yes, Master, I will.”
He grips my throat, just tight enough to make me shudder.
“Are you going to be a perfect little slut for us tonight?”
I smile under my hood.
“I’ll be a perfect slut for you, Master, I swear it.” I rock myself, unsteady. “And I’ll love it, Master. I’ll love being a slut for you. I’m desperate to be a filthy little whore and take everything I’m given.”
I try to sway towards him, parting my thighs.
“Please, Master, see how wet I am for you. Please, feel me. Touch me.”
He takes his hand from my throat, and I gasp when he slaps my pussy before taking hold and shoving at least three fingers inside.
“You are indeed a wet slut, aren’t you? That’s why we chose you, Holly. You’re such a beautiful, needy whore.”
I sink into the sensations. Fight or flight turns to all out pride at his words.
“Thank you, Master.”
“Did you enjoy the nettles last time?” he asks, and I nod with a smile on my face.
“I loved them. And I loved the clamps, and the bound tits, and the whips, and the stretching and the fucking. I loved all of it. Every single part.” I’m rambling, but I let my mouth run free. “I want it all again. Every single bit. I want to be even better. I want to take even more.”
“Shh,” he says. “You make no demands, Holly. You will get what you’re given, and give us everything we want in return. And tonight, my beautiful slut, you are going to be a canvas for us. A bleeding canvas.”
My breaths hitch at his words. Bleeding. What the hell does he mean?! Knife play? Are the founders going to cut me tonight? Are they going to razor blade me? Are they going to slice me to pieces?
My throat dries up at the rustling sound in front of me. My master is getting something ready. Preparing. Shit. I blink inside the hood, desperate for a glimpse, but I can’t see a thing.
“Tell me, have you been pierced before, Holly?” he asks, and runs something sharp and pointed down one of my heaving tits.
“Um, yeah. My ears, Master.”
My ears?!
How fucking embarrassing for an answer.
I yelp and feel like a total novice when he jabs a thin spike of a needle at the side of my nipple, because this is nothing whatsoever like a fucking ear piercing. It stings like fuck.