Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
A small whimper slipped past the gag as my nerve endings crackled to life. I managed a slight nod in response to his question, never even considering refusing to answer. I couldn’t have any secrets from Andrés when I was like this: stripped bare and put on display for him. I couldn't hide from him. He wouldn't allow it.
"But no one has ever flogged you before," he said. It wasn't a question. He already knew how innocent I was.
"Kinky little virgin," he mused. "When I decide to allow you to speak again, you'll tell me every depraved thought you've ever had." He smiled down at me with genuine pleasure. "I knew we'd get along."
He took a step back and swung the flogger down in a slow arc. The falls slapped against my bottom, but it didn't hurt. He was going slow with me, watching me with the careful, focused attention of a predator as he monitored my reactions. The heavy strips of leather slid down over my cheeks. They were cool and smooth against my heated skin.
"This is going to hurt," he warned. "It's supposed to hurt. One day, I'll show you how good it can feel. But not tonight."
I couldn't do anything but shiver and wait for him to begin. The fantasy I'd harbored for so long—Dex lovingly giving me a hit of pain to drive me into a blissful headspace—faded away. This wouldn't bring me to subspace. That was attained through trust and honest surrender. It was something I’d longed for, and it had never been farther from my grasp.
I had to surrender to Andrés, but he wasn't giving me a choice. The restraints around my body weren't part of a kinky game, designed to help me let go of my inhibitions. They were punitive, a means of subjugating me, just as the collar had been. Everything I'd ever secretly longed for was being twisted. As perverted as it was to fantasize about my best friend tying me down and whipping me, that fantasy was sweet and practically vanilla compared to my horrific reality.
I didn't have a safe word. I couldn't do anything to stop this.
When the first hit landed, I shrieked into the gag, my entire body jerking against my restraints in an instinctive effort to move away. The cuffs held fast, and the belt around my waist kept me trapped against the bench.
I stared back at him, silently pleading.
Don't. Not again. I don't like this.
The initial sting of the falls striking my bottom was morphing into a deeper burn, leaving my skin smarting.
"Your eyes are so lovely," he said, studying me with purely masculine appreciation. My wide, shining eyes did nothing to dissuade him. If anything, he was getting turned on. His cock began to stiffen as I shook my head, my pleas muffled by the gag.
A hash cry tore from my throat when he brought the flogger down twice in rapid succession, hitting one cheek and then the other, leaving a scorching path where the thin leather falls raked across my skin.
He paused as I heaved out a sob, but he wasn't looking at my face anymore. He studied my bottom, lightly running his fingertips over my enflamed skin. The contact tingled and stung, and I whined in protest.
"So pretty and red," he observed. He gripped my cheek hard, his fingers digging into my tender flesh. I tried to wriggle away, but there was nowhere to go. "I want to see my fingerprints on your ass tomorrow," he said, as though explaining his actions made them rational. "The bruises from the flogger will remind you of your punishment, but this marks you as mine." He increased the pressure of his cruel hold, and my breath stuttered as tears began to stream down my face.
Finally, he released my cheek. I didn't have time to sag in relief before he brought the flogger down on me again, swift and merciless.
I threw back my head and screamed into the gag, but I couldn't do anything to stop him. He spread the burn of the stinging falls across my bottom and down my upper thighs, painting my flesh with hot red pain.
My entire body began to quiver as my muscles started to give out. I'd been twisting and tugging against my restraints on animal instinct, but I couldn't keep up even that much resistance. I went limp against the bench, trembling.
"Good girl," he said, his voice deeper than I'd ever heard it. "Accept your punishment. You know you've earned it."
My tears came faster. I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve anything that was happening to me.
But the gag kept my protest locked inside. I couldn't do anything but surrender.
I drew in a shuddering breath, submitting to the pain. As soon as I did, my mind entered a quiet, resigned space. Each blow still stung, but I noticed the heavy thud permeating deeper into my flesh. It was rhythmic. Hypnotic. My breathing began to even out as I focused solely on the sensation of harsh leather hitting my burning skin, the whoosh and smack of the flogger moving through the air before making contact. Everything else faded: thought, worry, emotion.