Thoughts tumble through her mind. “Am I supposed to cry out? Am I supposed to beg to stop? Why am I having to go through this? Does Stephen still love me? Did he love me at all? Why cant I—”
Seth was jerking her up by her collar. Her knees were still weak. She barely had time to compose herself, to calm herself down.
Seth took her collar off, tossing it aside. He pushed her to her knees, pushing her face down. He pulled her hair up, clasping a posture collar around her neck.
With this new collar, she found that she could not lower her head. Was she supposed to keep her eyes on him? Was she to witness this new torment? Why is she wearing this?
He pulls her back up by her hair. He grabs her up by the single ring, making her stand on the bed. He grabs some rope off the table, throwing it at her feet. He then climbs up on the bed, pulling the chain that was dangling a good foot above her head.
There was a clasp on the end, and Seth clasps her to this chain. He then grabs Sophies arms, bringing them behind her. He binds her wrists tight. The rope was thick, and he knotted it three times.
“Try to get out of this, girl.”
She squirms her hands, trying to rotate her wrists. She moves her hands across each other, but, they are bound tight.
Her head is being held high, shes eye level with Seth. She locks her eyes to him, clear, but still puffy. He walks around her, spreading her ass, slapping her thighs. He walks in front of her, spreads her legs, examining the fresh bruises lined perfectly on her inner thighs.
He raises her breasts, pinching her nipples hard. Hard enough to bring a moan to her lips.
He turns to Alex, leaving her hanging there, on tip toe, trying to balance, with bound wrists. She finds herself swaying.
“These walls are cork-lined, yes?”
“Of course they are. This is the room best suited to whipping, because I dont care for silence. I love nothing more than seeing a marked up, screaming, sweaty bitch under my hand.”
“Perfect! Gentlemen, I will now ask that you leave me to her.”
The three men walked out the door, through the hallway.Alex set up drinks in the living room, flipping on the television, to drown out the noise from the back room.
Sophia was staring at him. She did not flinch, as he screwed the metal nipple clamps on her. He turned them each three times, making her nipples turn a violent purple.
He pulled the chain a little further down, giving her the balance she needed. Now standing on her feet, she instinctively spread her legs three inches apart.
He walks over to the table, and picks up the slim handled riding crop. He brings it to her lips, running it across them. It felt stiff, cold. The slapper didnt give when she kissed it.
He then raised his arm, and struck her left breast. She tried to sink to her knees, but was held tight by the chain. She cried out, softly, bringing a sting to her skin. A clear red welt was already taking shape. He struck her other breast, watching her intently.
“Are you ready to beg, Sophia?”
He walks up behind her, striking each cheek, with the welts forming, such a bright red against her pale flesh.
He put the crop back, and ran his fingers across a smooth rattan cane. He instead opted for the black knotted cat o nine tails. He gently drags it across her back, watching the chill bumps break out on her skin. He drags it down her thighs, her calves. She wiggles under the soft caresses.
He drages it across her breasts, down her stomach. She lets out soft moans, wimpering under the touches.
Bringing the handle to her lips, she kisses it. He then slid the handle into her mouth, making it slightly wet. He then inserted the handle into her. She lets out a low, gutteral moan, biting on her bottom lip. He twists it, deep inside her, causing her to become wet.
He feels her warmth, and pulls out the handle, placing it again into her mouth. She tastes herself, mixed with the soft leather. She almost gags, but stops herself.
“You dont like the taste of leather, little one?”
She doesnt know if his question is metaphorical, or if hes referring to her choking. She lowers her eyes, remaining quiet.
Seth chuckles to himself, and walks around her. Rubbing her ass roughly, he slowly begins to whip her.
For the most part, she feels alot of air, for which she is grateful for. The braids that do land, vibrate her to the bone.
He increases speed, making her ass red, marked with varying stripes. Moving his wrist in figure eight formation, the braids are landing harder, making her want to sink down. Since she cannot, she tries to turn against it.
Seth moves down to her thighs, so soft, so tender, pale.
He begins whipping her in earnest. Her body begins to glisten with sweat, which, in turn, causes each blow to sting even more.
She is moaning, writhing under the straps. She has no way to wipe the sweat dripping into her eyes.
Seth is nice enough to brush her hair from her face.
“Do you want me to stop?”
She looks at him, lips parted. She wants him to stop, she needs to breathe. She nods her head the best she can.
“Whats that, little girl? I cant hear you.”
And with that, he drew back and whipped her to the point of her screaming out loud.
Her screams were absorbed into the walls. But the gentlemen in the living room heard her loud and clear.
“Stop! Stop, please. Youre ripping me open! Stop it! Stop it….”
So he does. Seth brings the handle back to her lips. She kisses it, tears flowing over her cheeks.
He unties her wrists, unclasps her collar. He holds her by the waist, and with his other hand, massages her rope burned wrists. She wimpers under the touches, feeling faint.
“Im sorry, Im sorry that I cant.”
And she slips to the bed, kneeling, her head touching the bed, tears streaming, shoulders shaking.
He pets her back, running his hand through her hair. Shes still shaking under the coldness, the drying sweat, the burning welts.
“Breathe, little one, breathe. Its all over. No more pain. Just remember that you cant do everything.”
Seth speaks to her in low hushed tones. Still running his hands over her, hes still talking to her.
“Shhh, sweet sweet Sophie. You did an amazing job. Im quite surprised you held out so long. Youre so strong.”
She was slipping towards sleep. She just wants to stretch out across the comforting bed, and sleep.
“Im leaving now, Sophie. Im sure we will run into each other again. And Im turning the light off. But dont worry dear one, youll still have some light to keep you company.”
He brings her head up, kissing her forehead. He lights the candle, and flips the light. Walking out slowly, he blows her a kiss, and shuts the door.
She stares at the flickering flame. Lost in her thoughts, the burning feeling leaves her senses. She supposes that this is what they meant. The pain was hers, but only for a little while.
She was finally calmed inside. Her heart was still beating, she came through this alive. Perhaps even better for it.
And while she is glad its over, she cant help but wonder if she could handle more. Sure, her body had been ransacked, but what if? What if, during all of this, her mind widened just a little bit more? That she could have taken just a few more strokes?
Would they be proud of her, then? But is it even a matter of pride? She doesnt know, but she is so content, so relaxed, the candle lighting up the dark. She sees her shadow dancing on the wall, and she smiles a feline grin to herself.
