Ares raises a brow. I know that look. It’s the “you’re three fucking seconds away from a sound beating” look. Apparently, Israel is familiar with it too, because he casts his eyes to the ground like a good little sub. “You break the skin, and I will crucify you.”
“Yes, Sir,” Israel says. Why do I get the feeling he’d enjoy that?
Ares squirts massage oil into his palms and covers me with it, sliding the silky lubricant over my thighs and sex before continuing up my torso to my breasts. I squirm as much as the ropes will allow. “When you said you were playing hard, I didn’t realize a massage was what you had in mind.”
He chuckles. “Oh, there will be plenty of pain, Pet. Don’t worry your pretty head about that.”
He sits back down and lavishes his attention on my pussy, rubbing my clit until I almost come as Israel lets the first few lashes fly. Ares was right; they do sting like a bitch, and try as I might to keep quiet, I can’t. I wind up screaming from the repeated flogging of both nipples, and the teasing from Ares’ expert hands. Desire, anger, need, and despair all trade places until it’s too much, and my orgasm builds to the point where I couldn’t hold back even if Ares ordered me to.
“Come on my hands, Pet.” Sir keeps up his stroking and slides three fingers inside as the first wave of pleasure sluices through my body. With brutal thrusts, he fucks my pussy, sweeping my G-spot until I come all over his hands and the floor.
I barely have time to bask in the afterglow when he slides his hand free and enters me again, this time with more fingers. I cry from the pressure. “Relax, little one. Before you leave this room, you will take my whole fist inside your precious, perfect cunt.”
“No,” I shriek, attempting to sit up despite the ropes that pin me down. “I can’t. Please, Sir.”
“You can, and you will.”
Israel peppers my Sir’s words with lashes of the flogger. The falls land on my thighs, and the top of my pubic mound. Ares continues fucking me with his fingers, long, slow strokes that cause me to cry for more, despite how his threat of fisting scares me. I come again without being told to, and when I meet my Sir’s eyes with fear and trepidation, I see nothing but confidence, adoration, and perhaps even a little excitement.
“This will hurt, Pet, but it will hurt so fucking good.” He pulls out of me, oils up his hands and wrists again, and slowly, so slowly I can feel every callous and groove, he eases back in with all five digits. I shudder as my pussy stretches to accommodate him. He’s right. It does hurt, but it feels good too. It’s the perfect mix of pleasure and torture, and I feel as if the world is shattering around me. Israel beats my breasts, each fall of the flogger landing exactly where he intends. Then he takes the flogger and turns it so that the braided leather handle is flush with my skin. For a beat I think he’s going to hit me with it, but he slides it across my slick skin and down my abdomen to my pussy, where he runs it back and forth over my clit. I cry, I scream, and I come with Ares’ hand buried in me to the wrist.
For hours, they toy with me like this, Ares fucking my pussy and ass with his fist, Israel alternating between stroking, beating, and sometimes choking me by covering my mouth and nose until I almost pass out, but come instead from their torturous ministrations. I no longer know up from down, lover from enemy, or Sir from slave. My mind is so twisted, so broken, and I couldn’t care fucking less.
“She’s ready.” Israel sucks on my nipple, one last tariff of pain for all that pleasure.
I glance at Ares, at my Sir, and see my own fear reflected in his face. What if Vladik kills me? What if he breaks me beyond repair? Once upon a time, I’d thought I couldn’t be any more broken. Then Ares set me free, and I truly knew what it was to be left in pieces. This time, I’m asking for it. I’m willing to risk my life for his sister because it’s the right thing to do, but at what cost?
Ares doesn’t respond; he doesn’t need to. We both know what he’s thinking. He knows Israel is right. I am ready, because it’s what my Sir has trained me for from day one, and he never met a slave he couldn’t break.
We’re about to find out if the same is true for Vladik.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Pet
Ares squeezes my handand presses a kiss to my forehead. Anxiety flutters inside my chest, forming its own heartbeat of flutters and dips.