Eight minutes and forty-eight seconds? She was going to die. He picked up the whip and flicked it against her left flank before waving it in front of her face. “Don’t drop it again,” he warned. “No talking. No begging and saying please. I do what I like, yes? Answer me. Yes, Sir.”
“Yes, Sir,” she squeaked as he flicked her other thigh. He put the whip back in her mouth and ran his palms over the twin stings on either side. “If you come, I’ll whip your pussy. Okay? Ten strokes. You understand that?”
Oh my God. Yes, she understood. She also realized what he probably already knew. He could make her come twenty times in the next eight minutes and forty-eight seconds if he wanted to. She knew it, he knew it. He was going to whip her pussy—it was a foregone conclusion. She rested her head back on the table and moaned in frustration. She could try not to come—she was going to try her very best—but she’d put the odds of success at a thousand-to-one.
At that bleak thought, he approached with the larger plug and pressed her legs up and back in some bastardization of a ballet pose. She felt the blunt head of the plug probe her ass. “This time it will go easier,” he said. “But it’s bigger. You have to let it in.”
It felt okay at first, but the middle part was definitely thicker. She wiggled, curling her toes against the pain. It wasn’t sharp pain, like the bite of the whip, but a dull, awful stretching. Her eyes locked with his. Beneath the dominant posturing, beneath the stern glare, Ruby was there, watching to be sure she was okay. Watching, always watching. She forced herself to relax, and with slow, twisting movements, he eased the plug the rest of the way in.
She could feel this one, for sure. Her ass felt stretched. Filled. She held his regard as he studied her, letting him see the pain and discomfort in her eyes. Yes, I hate this. Yes, I love you. She bit down on the whip, disturbed by the uncontrolled feelings he aroused in her. He pinched her ass and turned to go, and for a moment she felt panic. He’s leaving. He’s leaving me here like this!
But he’d only gone back to his trunk of toys. He returned with another set of clamps, a more intricate pair that looked a lot more threatening.
“Clover clamps,” he said, swinging them in front of her. “Maybe too hard for you. But we have to make you hurt if you don’t want to come, yes?”
Yes, yes, make me hurt. But oh God. I’m scared. She had the “Romeo” safeword if she needed it. She squeezed her eyes shut as he pinched her nipples.
“No, open,” he said sharply. “Open your eyes. Let me see.”
He watched her as he closed the first biting clamp on her sensitive peak. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to nipple clamps, with their instant, piercing pain. She keened behind the whip, clenching her teeth so she didn’t drop it. “Hurts, yes?” Ruby crooned. “Too much?”
Yes, it was too much, but she still wanted it. She worked to calm her breath, and when she thought she could bear it, she lifted her shoulder toward him, offering her other breast. His expression deepened, turned almost feral. He grabbed her face and kissed her mouth, right over the whip. He bit her bottom lip until it stopped trembling, then he leaned back and drew down the chain of the clamps. He tried to thread it under the waist strap, but there wasn’t room. “Suck in your breath.”
She knew what he was going to do. He was going to hook the chain through the strap at her waist so the clamps constantly pulled down and hurt her. She almost shook her head but in the end, she lay very, very still and let him do it without a sound of protest.
He laced it under and drew it back up, flicked her other nipple and closed the clamp on it. Through the haze of pain, she saw him check the slack and felt a harder pinch as he gave the chain a tug. “You better not move too much, huh? Or, if you’re going to come, move a lot and make it hurt. You see how I try to help you?”
She managed a weak smile behind the leather implement in her mouth. He was pure evil. She tested her predicament, drawing her chest up. The clamps tightened as the waist strap caught the chain. Fuck me. I’m toast.
She was overloaded on sensation: the thick plug in her ass, the restraints, the hurting clamps, and the ever-present threat of the whip in her mouth. He watched her, teasing her clit with a deft, light touch.
“Control, baby. When it feels too good, think about that whip in your mouth, and how it’s going to hurt on your pussy. You think about that.”
Not helping, she wanted to yell at him. You’re not helping at all.
He picked up the pink vibrator. It was slim with a curved edge, a cute little thing. A cute little horrible torture toy. He started the timer on his phone and flicked on the vibe with a flourish. “Eight minutes and forty-eight seconds.”
Ha, thought Petra. More like thirty seconds. But if you want to keep up this farce...
As soon as he touched the vibrator to her clit, her body started moving. Trembling, tensing, undulating. She felt sharp tugs at her nipples but it wasn’t enough to dull the arousing sensation of the vibrator. She twisted her hips, tiny movements impeded by the leather waist belt. Her attempts at evasion were useless. He circled her clit, observing her torment with a faint smile on his face. Evil, evil, evil...
When her legs started kicking, he turned it off. He put it aside and shoved three fingers inside her pussy. She was soaking wet, drowning in her own juices. He drew his fingers out and licked them, then shoved them in again. He finger-fucked her a few times and then withdrew them, pressing them in her mouth this time, beneath the handle of the whip.
She licked them eagerly. Any time spent sucking on his fingers was time without the vibrator. She swirled her tongue around the tips, flicking them, mimicking a blowjob. His eyes widened. His cock was purple-hard as he fisted it.
“Be careful,” he said. “Don’t tease.” He pressed against the flange of the anal plug, then eased it slowly in and out…in and out. She tensed, which made it hurt worse. She couldn’t help thinking how it would feel if he fucked her there, if it was his cock moving in and out of her instead of the tapered toy. Her gaze dropped to his thick length. She’d never thought it possible, but now... No. God, no. He was too big for her.
When she looked back at him, she knew he’d read her thoughts. “If you want it, just ask,” he said. “If you want me to fuck your little virgin asshole.”
She shook her head, the whip shifting in her mouth.
He picked up the vibrator again. With a glance at the clock, he said cheerfully, “Only five minutes to go. See? Control. You can do this.”
Was he going to let her do it? Because she knew the control was all his. He would decide if she succeeded or failed. She steeled herself not to come.
“Is okay,” he said, placing the buzzing tip against her clit. “Take deep breaths.”
Deep breaths weren’t going to help. The vibrator set off reactions she couldn’t control. Her breasts throbbed and her nipples taunted her with sharp, tugging pains. Her ass clenched around the plug in intermittent pulses as her legs strained against his hands. Her pelvis ached, heavy with arousal. Within seconds, she was going to fall over the cliff into orgasm. Unless he turned the vibrator off, she was lost.
She began to shake her head violently. “No,” she begged behind the whip. “No, no, no.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” he murmured.
She tried to twist her hips away and got a good strong nipple tug for her troubles. He looked over at the clock. “Three minutes, thirty-two seconds,” he said. “Think of other things. Don’t come.”
Just before she reached the point of no return, he switched off the evil toy and cupped her pussy. “You think you might make it?” He grinned at her and then nipped her clit with his teeth. She wailed in protest. “What? You don’t like when I taste your pussy? I can’t help it.”
She shuddered, restrained and burning with arousal, as he teased her exact point of destruction with his warm, agile tongue. She heard the vibrator click on and then she felt both sensations, the tugs and flicks of his mouth combined with the buzzing stimulation of the vibrator. In an instant, it was all over. She gave a cry, a furious, frustrated cry, and surrendered to orgasm. Her whole body shook in violent pleasure to the accompaniment of her blood beating in her veins. Her wail died to breathless moans and then silence as her limbs jerked through the intense climax. She heard the vibrator click off.
“Oh, no,” he said in feigned disappointment. “So close. You almost did it.”
She spit out the whip. “You were never going to let me do it. You— You cheated. You’re a cheater.”
He turned the flange of the plug, then reached to take off the nipple clamps. “Five extra strokes for calling me a cheater when you are the naughty one here.”
“I’m not naughty,” she said, but she felt pretty naughty. She strained against the pain of the blood rushing back to her nipples. “I was trying to be good.”
He shook his head and made a disapproving sound. “No control. You’re a horny, naughty little slut, aren’t you? Say it. Yes, Sir, I’m a horny, naughty little slut. Say it or I’ll add even more with the whip.”
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair, but they both knew it wasn’t supposed to be fair. She pouted and muttered, “Yes, Sir, I’m a horny, naughty slut.”
He pressed his fingers inside her, twisting them within her clenching walls. “Say it nicer. Be a good girl for me. This is your last chance.”
She took a deep breath and met his eyes. His fingers filled her, a probing, carnal manifestation of his power. “Yes, Sir, I’m a horny, naughty slut,” she said in a clear, respectful voice.
“And you deserve a whipping, don’t you? Right on your horny, naughty pussy?”
She shivered, wondering what that would feel like. “Yes, Sir,” she said after a moment. “I do.” He reached to retrieve the whip from where she’d spit it on the floor. “But I’m afraid,” she added in a whisper.