Page 39 of Condemned

His other hand still held the rope that linked to her manacle chain. He hauled at it and made her stand, then pulled even more until she staggered on tiptoe. A simple task for such a tall mauleon. He held her there, admiring the result. The florse blanket had fallen from her body to the ground, leaving her utterly naked and her nipples tightening into hard, painful buds. It was cold in here if not as cold as outside.

Smiling all the while, whistling, he fastened her rope to the hook. He pulled off his shirt and held high one of her arms then the other, winding the shirt through the cuffs, between her bare wrists and the metal. He was protecting her flesh from being worn away.

“Why?” she asked when he released her arm, leaving her swaying on her toes.

“Beating your ass is not the same as damaging you. Surely this you understand? Tell me if the cuffs chew into your skin. Okay?”

She blinked at him, then nodded.

A few seconds later, and she barely had time to recognize that this was the moment he began, he stepped behind her and she heard the swish of a stick.

The blow landed across her ass, both cheeks, leaping a line of heat across her skin. She bit down on a shriek, sprang even higher on her toes, wrapping her fingers about the chain.

Attempting to step her toes forward only meant she ran out of places to go because of the limits of rope and chain. So she stopped, waiting, dreading.

Another blow hit and she flinched and bore it. Both cheeks, only higher. It throbbed, died down.

“Two,” Zo said, sounding pleased. “Will I do ten or twenty?”

Was this a trick question? “Ten?”

“Good choice. Let’s see where this ends up. It all depends on how much you scream.”

She frowned. She wouldn’t scream just to please him. Or the others watching. She saw them from the periphery of her vision until a blindfold was dropped across her eyes.

“This help?” Zo kissed then bit her earlobe with his hand over her mound, his fingers pressing on her. One finger dipped into her entrance and circled there as he spoke. “I want you to think only of what I do to you. Of me touching you.” He squeezed her pussy. “I want you wet enough that I can slide in as if I’d oiled you. Drenched, dying for me to be inside you, fucking you.”

The thought of that... of him wanting her rapt attention, made her catch a breath and hold it, until she let it go and the energy flowed from her lungs, down through her body, and what it left behind was the purest lust.

She hung into the chains... waiting, knowing he would strike her again.

The anticipation.

The line of fire fell and flared, made her jerk and gasp and swallow the pain. From the sounds he circled her, his hand fleetingly brushing her, across her clit, here, there, breasts, ass, enough that she was distracted. Then he struck her again, played between her legs, squeezed her breasts and nipples until her body cried at her to arch and push into his hold. She did not. She screamed at some of the blows, whimpered at the intimate touch of his hands when they explored where they should not. Now and then she felt the tug as he caught hold of the rings piercing her clit hood or nipples.

The pleasure surged and sank against the backdrop of pain as she hung recovering, panting, feeling everything he’d done.

With the blindfold in place, she could absorb herself in all that Zo gave her.

This was a revelation that left her hanging, left her sobbing in breaths that shook her, feeling the stick he wielded as if it were a gift.

“Let’s get this done. Eight more.”

Then he struck her hard, without mercy, counting the blows, landing a few on her thighs and upper back.

Wincing and gritting her teeth at each hit, she leaned into her arms and took the punishment.

“Last one.” And it fell and made her shudder and somehow copious wetness had leaked, shaming her for she felt it on her thighs, trickling down her legs.

“Oh, fuck, gods. Fuck!” She sniffed, choking, overcome, unsure how many times he’d hit her, feeling her body still ringing, humming.

It was, she realized, wakening to it... glorious.

“Love the look of you, red, striped. Your pretty ass, your back.” He’d moved in close from the murmur of his words, from the feel of his hard cock pressing at her side. “Next time, I’ll do your cunt with my belt. Let’s see what you taste like on the inside of your cunt.”

He sneaked that hand below again, and she found herself hoping he’d do exactly what he’d threatened to. Her thigh muscles trembled as the cone of several of his fingers was pushed into her, worming, rotating as he forced them... higher... she gasped and jerked... And he shoved again, leaving them there inside her long enough that a gush of her moisture dripped from her.

He pulled them out, making her swear and stumble. One of his hands steadied her but the other, she knew he was licking it, tasting her.