Page 50 of The Prey

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Mara’s internal clock seemed to have sprung. She had no idea what time it was, or even what day it was. Her labia had healed quickly, as Alex had promised they would. He had been so kind, so good to her afterward, taking her into his big, soft bed and holding her in his arms all night long.

“Mara,” he had whispered, his voice cracking with emotion that brought tears to her eyes. “You have redeemed yourself. You are no longer a zero. You are my good, brave girl. You exist to please me, to suffer for me, to obey me in all things…” She had fallen asleep to the soft, low murmur of his voice, his words etched like filigree into the grooves of her mind.

That was, what, a day ago? Two? Three? Would he come in soon to let her down? Her wrists ached and she was so thirsty. She stared longingly at his bed, which beckoned from the other side of the room, its sheets so white and crisp, so inviting.

She looked away toward the window, wishing he’d left the blinds open. He’d closed them so the outside world wouldn’t distract her from her focus, which was to serve him.

I exist to serve, to suffer, to please and obey. I am a cunt, a piece of ass. I am the property of Pirate Island. I belong to Alex. I belong to Alex. He keeps me safe. He knows just what I need.

She stood on tiptoe and arched her back in an effort to relieve the pressure against her wrists. It worked as long as she could hold the position, but soon she was slumped over again, all her weight focused once more on her aching wrists. Her empty stomach contracted painfully and she swayed in her bonds, dizzy with hunger. She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten, but surely Alex would feed her soon. Alex would take care of her.

At least she’d managed to keep the dildo in place inside her the whole time—Alex would be pleased. The butt plug lodged in her ass actually helped by pressing against it from the inside.

Yes, she was doing okay. Alex would let her know when it was time to come down. He knew best what she needed. Her nipples were mercifully numb in the clover clamps. The fresh welts he’d painted over her stomach and the front of her thighs were already fading.

If only he’d let her down. Her wrists ached and she was so thirsty…

Finally Alex appeared in the doorway. He looked handsome in a white linen shirt, the sleeves rolled up over his forearms and open at the throat, his muscular legs bare beneath black shorts. He was smiling at her, his expression kind, even sympathetic. Mara warmed beneath his approving gaze. She had been a good girl. She had suffered for him. She had pleased him. Her heart swelled with happy pride.

Alex approached her and put his arms around her. As he pressed his hard body against hers, she could feel his erection. She lifted her chin slightly to give him better access as he kissed her throat and the side of her neck with the sensual tenderness of a lover.

After a while, he let her go and stepped back. He traced a finger over the welts on her stomach, and moved his hand higher, placing it flat over her breastbone. “I’m going to take off the clamps now. Prepare yourself. Don’t make a sound.”

Mara nodded, her heart thumping hard against his palm in anticipation, her mouth dry not only from thirst, but fear. Removing his hand, Alex reached for both clamps at once. For a second she felt nothing, and then, as the blood rushed back to her compressed nipples, pain returned with it like liquid fire searing her nerve endings. A howl of pain rose in her throat, but Mara, lips pressed tightly together, managed to keep it from escaping her lips, though she couldn’t stop the tears that slipped down her cheeks.

Alex wiped away her tears with the edge of his thumb. Then he cupped her breasts in his hands and dipped his head, gently suckling first one and then the other nipple, kissing away the pain. Mara sighed with pleasure, her clit throbbing in time to his sweet caress.

Stepping over to the wall, he released the pulley mechanism that kept the rope taut, lowering her arms until her wrists rested on top of her head, her elbows bent. Returning to her, he removed the cuffs from her wrists, catching her arms as they flopped lifelessly down. He lifted her and carried her the short distance to the bed. Setting her gently on the mattress, he sat beside her and massaged her arms and hands until the tingling rush of pins and needles signaled a return to life.


Tags: Claire Thompson Erotic