“Such a good girl,” Julian says softly. He kneels in front of me. His hand closes around the vibrator, and he takes it from me. “Good girls should get rewarded, shouldn’t they?”
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper. We’ve barely been in the room for ten minutes, and I feel different. Don’t get me wrong. Most of the time, I enjoy being in charge of my pleasure. I want to be an active participant. But letting go, surrendering to their desires—it feels heady. My fathers used to take us to the circus when we were young, and I would watch the trapeze artists soar through the air, daring and weightless and free. That’s how I feel.
“Do you want to come, Sophia?”
“Yes, Sir,” I say again. I look into his eyes. Desire flares in those dark pools.
“Pick a number between one and ten,” Damien calls out.
He’s surveying the contents of the dresser. Is he going to spank me? I look up at my list on the screen. Riding crop, it says there, in forty-eight-point font, highlighted in red.
Is that what he’s looking for?
Is he going to crop me?
Will it hurt, or will I love it?
Or both?
“Four.”
“You want four orgasms tonight?” Damien moves behind me, his fingers tangling in my hair. “You’re a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” His lips kiss the side of my neck. “Then again, like Julian said, good girls should be rewarded.”
He tugs with his fingers, and a thousand spikes of pain prickle my scalp. “I was surprised by your list,” he says. “Hair pulling. A riding crop. A phallic gag.” I can see him smile in the mirror. “Does it count if I shove my cock in your mouth, or does it have to be a gag?”
Julian moves closer. His fingers trace my puffy, swollen lips. I catch my breath. If he tells me not to come, I’m going to burst into tears. I just know it.
He kisses the inside of my thigh, his lips soft. “Come any time you like, sweetness.”
Then his mouth collides with my pussy.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I’m already wound tight. The plug in my ass, Damien teasing me on the way over here, and the rabbit. . . they’ve all done their job. Julian barely has to put the tip of his tongue on my clit, and I’m there. I shudder and writhe, pant and gasp.
Damien’s grip on my hair tightens. The pain contrasts sharply with the pleasure. I moan out loud, and he gives me a disapproving look. “Now, now,” he says. “If you can’t be quiet, I’ll have to gag you.”
I can’t say I didn’t ask for it.
Julian keeps his mouth on my pussy. Damien’s grip on my hair loosens, and I watch him walk away to the dresser. He returns with a black leather gag, a small red ball, and a riding crop. “Julian, let up for a minute,” he says.
Julian stops right before my orgasm hits. I groan in frustration, and Damien bites back his smile. “Sophia, pay attention,” he says. “And then, I promise, you can come.”
Heat ripples through my body. It’s a struggle to make myself focus, but I do. Damien hands me the ball. “You won’t be able to use your safewords when you’re gagged,” he says. “Hence the ball. Drop it, and we’ll ungag you and do a check-in. Okay?”
I nod.
“I need you to repeat it back to me, Sophia,” he says firmly.
His tone cuts through my fog of lust. His friends died in a BDSM session gone wrong. Damien won’t take any chances with safety.
“If I drop the red ball, you’ll ungag me and check-in,” I repeat, taking the ball from him. I look up at one of the cameras on the ceiling. It’s a small room, but I’ve counted five cameras, and there are probably more. “I understand.”
The gag is, as promised, a penis gag. On one side—the side that goes into my mouth—is a short, stubby rubber cock. It’s two inches long, tops. Easy-peasy.
A bulb dangles from the flat leather end. I don’t pay attention to it until Damien straps the gag in place and squeezes, and the penis inflates in my mouth.
Damien laughs at my expression. “Did you really think it would be that easy?” He brushes my hair away from my face and strokes my cheek. “Sweetheart, you’re going to earn your four orgasms tonight.”
Julian dives back into my pussy, his tongue caressing my clit. Damien walks around me thoughtfully, and every time I clench my eyes shut, he hits me with the crop. The pain is sharp but not unbearable. I moan into my gag.