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“That is not for you to know,” he says. “I’m asking you, do you want us to stop? Or are you going to sacrifice your cunt to us?”
You can do it, baby, I hear Josh in my fucked-up head.
Yes.
Yes, I fucking can do it.
I nod in my hood.
“Speak aloud,” Master says. “Will you sacrifice your cunt?”
“Yes, Master. I’ll sacrifice my cunt.” I choke back the fear and find the fight, even though my whole body is trembling, arms aching in my shackles along with the rest of me. “Do whatever you want to my cunt. It’s yours!” I shout. “Make it hurt, Master. I don’t care. Do it!”
“Legs up and wide,” he says, but his words aren’t aimed at me.
Once again two guys are at my side. One grabs my right thigh. The other grabs my left. And I’m lifted a little, thighs spread wide. And again it’s a welcome relief to have the full weight taken off my shackles. Or I think it is, until Master knots what feels like wire around each of my pussy clamps, one side of my slit at a time. He secures the wires tight around my thighs one by one, spreading my pussy lips open wide. Savage. This is beyond fucking savage.
“Last chance,” he says. “Say the word, and I’ll set you free.”
“Do it,” I tell him. “Just do it.”
“Listen to me,” he says and I’m hanging on his every fucking word. “You are in subspace right now, are you not?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“There’s a higher level, Holly. With your beautiful tits bound so tight and purple. And your equally beautiful cunt spread wide, with your pretty swollen clit on display, your flawless skin, striped and welted to perfection. Just one strike of the whip on your clit and subspace will explode, suck your soul right out of you, so bad that you might pass out. Can you handle that? Can you really give your master your cunt so willingly?”
My God, his voice, his tone. Despite everything, my clit is tingling for it.
For him.
“Yes, Master. My cunt is yours. I’ll take whatever you give me,” I reply, and I suck in deep breaths, in anticipation of how much this is going to hurt.
“Good girl,” he says and oh fuck, how nice it is when his finger strokes my clit.
How nice it is when he gives it a little pinch before stepping back.
Shit.
The whip cracks behind me and I scream. But there’s no contact. It cracks again and I yelp and brace. But no. He’s testing the strike. Or testing me.
“Ready?” Master says, but he’s not talking to me.
“Ready,” the voice answers from behind me.
Oh fuck, now I really am bracing myself.
My anticipation is nothing compared to how it actually feels to have a whip lash hit my clit from behind. I scream like I’ve been sliced in two, trying to close my thighs, but the men holding them spread are too strong for me. I can’t fight them.
They wait until I’ve quietened before I’m struck with a second blow, and it’s like being electrocuted, my clit screaming in pain as loud as I am.
The next blow misses my clit but strikes the clamps on one side, and the searing pain is so bad it spins my mind. I hope I don’t fucking pass out.
“Use your safe word if you need to,” Master says.
I’m panting hard, my hood sucking in and out of my mouth.
“Holly! Safe word?”
