The Sister (The Boss 6)

“Beg him to fuck your ass, Sophie,” Sir said, and I already heard Monsieur squirting lube into his palm.

My words rasped from my parched throat. “P-please, fuck my ass, Monsieur.”

“Louder!”

“Please, I want you to fuck my ass, Monsieur!” I gulped back a sob of humiliation.

Monsieur gave me no warning, no warm up. He forced himself past my body’s resistance, all the way to the very hilt. I reared up against my bonds, wailing in an agony so sublime my knees shook and my skin broke out all over with goose bumps.

Monsieur bent over my back to whisper, “Since you asked so nicely, I will fuck you. And when I’m finished, you’ll know you’ve been fucked.”

I cried out, again, at the next powerful thrust, but my tired throat could barely produce sound, anymore. My voice would be completely gone by the time he was finished with me.

“Will you beg me to stop?” he asked, grinding even deeper, taking my breath away.

I swallowed, gritting my teeth against the pain. “No, Monsieur!”

“No?” He laughed and withdrew nearly all the way, only to slam forward, again, so hard our bodies made a slapping noise. “Only a filthy slut would let a man take her this way.”

Another brutal thrust left me whimpering. I couldn’t even shout, anymore; the pain was my sole focus.

“You want this, don’t you?” he asked, grasping a handful of my hair and jerking my head back. “You want me to fuck you until you can’t stand up. You want me to come in your ass.”

“I do, Monsieur, yes!” I shouted, though my body still protested his welcomed violation. Hot tears seeped from behind the blindfold and down my face as he used my body cruelly, while the pain transformed to streaks of cold lightning assailing my spine and every internal part of my clitoris.

“Please, can I come?” I shouted in desperation, because it was bound to happen at any moment. My pussy contracted, and I found myself trying to move with Monsieur, to draw him deeper or fight against him. Any semblance of control I’d had vanished. I didn’t even hear Sir’s answer to my question, or Monsieur’s. I thrashed and moaned and heard Monsieur’s shout of release as I gave in to the torturous, pleasurable oblivion.

The back of my dress tore away, and nails raked down my back, deep gouges that made me scream in shock. I was familiar enough with impact play that I’d experienced a cane splitting my skin every, now and then, but intentionally tearing to cause pain was entirely new. The burn of the stinging stripes leached into the surrounding skin, and I fought against the shackles, twisting to escape.

I heard Neil’s sharp intake of breath from across the room, so I knew it was El-Mudad who’d done it. We’d talked about my love of pain, but it had never occurred to me to specify which type when I’d given him blanket permission to hurt me.

“Check in, Sophie,” Neil said. There was an urgency to the request that sparked panic in me. Fear, I liked. Panic, I did not.

“Yellow. I need… I need…” I opened and closed my hands helplessly.

El-Mudad withdrew from me carefully and quickly untied the blindfold. The calming effect was almost immediate. He walked around me, crouching down so he could look me in the eye. “Do you need to be unshackled?”

I shook my head. “No. No, I’m…”

“Yes, you do,” Neil said, reaching down and popping the closures. Sometimes, it was best for him to decide what I needed; when I got lost in subspace, I could always count on him to find me. He unstrapped my ankles while El-Mudad kissed my back, cautiously avoiding the painful stripes he’d left.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “Oh, my love, I didn’t—”

“It’s okay,” I assured him. He freed one of my wrists and brought my palm to his mouth to kiss it. When both were loose, I leaned up on my elbows on the bench and pushed my sweaty hair from my face. “I’ll try anything once. And once was enough for that.”

“I’ll get you some ointment,” Neil said, but I stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“No. I want to keep going.”

He looked at me doubtfully. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’ve just had an incredible amount of pain—”

“No pain, then?”

“Sophie…” El-Mudad said gently. “I am uncomfortable going on, now.”

“Oh.” I’d never considered the possibility that a Dom would be the one to tap out. I knew that it was just as much their right as mine, but it seemed so bizarre.

My legs couldn’t hold me up. I leaned heavily against El-Mudad’s side, and he helped me shuffle to the shower. Neil went to the comfort room to get the supplies we would need for aftercare.

“I am so sorry,” El-Mudad said, again, his big brown eyes searching mine earnestly as he helped me undress. “I should have made sure… I should have checked—”