Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Then he picks up the scissors again and slides the blade into my pubic hair, cutting a small amount and bringing it to his nose. “So soft,” he says, inhaling. “You smell so good.”
He rests the scissors and his trophy down on the bed beside me and then slides his fingers back into my curls, grasping tightly until I have to push my hips up off the bed to handle the sting.
“I have total control over you,” he whispers menacingly. “I can do anything I want to your body, and you won’t be able to get away.”
“No,” I said with false pain in my voice.
When he releases me, and my hips drop to the bed, I let out a sharp breath and gasp when his palm comes down against the fleshiness of my hip. “You don’t speak unless I ask you a question, Goldie. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I gasp, squirming as the sting of the slap turns into delicious, warm heat.
Robert leans over me, and tugs at the nipple clamps hard enough to make me cry out. The pain flames, but the nerve endings that burn against the metal send a pulse of pleasure directly to my clit, bringing my hips up off the bed again. “Bad girl,” he hisses and slaps the inside of my thigh. The strength of his palm pushes my legs wider and opens my wet pussy to the cold air. “You love that, don’t you?” Another quick, rough slap lands on the inside of my thigh.
I cry out, shifting beneath him, his body seeming to move ever closer to pinning me down completely. I find my hips moving toward him, the need to be filled growing louder and more impatient. My mind craves every torture this man could possibly devise—for him to whip me, chain me, flog me, hang me from the ceiling, and cane me until I sob—but my body can only imagine the raw desire of being filled by his cock. I feel it straining against my other thigh as he situates himself there, massive and hard, his fingers now sliding lightly over my wet pussy.
“Y-yes…. I love it.” I hardly feel the pain of the slap he gives me—only the great, burning beauty of the pleasure that seems to shoot straight to where I’m aching. The sensation of his fingers barely brushing over my clit is enough to send jolts of excitement up through my body, my nipples seeming to harden more inside the tight clamps.
I watch his hand intently, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I consider all the things he will do to me. He can clamp my clit as he has my nipples, pull at the chain, and push me to the borders of agony and ecstasy. Would I want that? I’m not sure. Imagining is so different from experiencing. Maybe that’d be too far. It won’t be clear until he tries.
His hand clenches and relaxes several times, his gaze fixated between my legs. He gives a few tentative taps to my clit, working up slowly, testing my limits. When he sees that my hips only draw up further—as much as they can, anyway—he begins striking more firmly. His eyes don’t leave mine, gauging my reactions. With my lower lip held between my teeth, I give a hard nod. I want it. Whatever he has to give me, I want it.
My voice shaking, I manage to speak the half-moaned words that will set everything in motion. “It’s… it’s yours. Do whatever you want to me. I’m yours.”
10
GOLDIE
When Robert raises his hand quickly, I tense and give a soft squeak in anticipation of the slap that's sure to follow. I hold my breath, my eyes instinctively squeezing shut. When the strike doesn’t come, I chance a peek—just long enough to see his huge hand come down in a harsh swat to my sensitive slit.
I cry out unrestrained, my legs trying desperately to close to protect me from his assault. They pull in vain against the sturdy restraints and fall slack in resignation. In every fantasy I’ve had, I’ve wondered if the pleasure of my thoughts would be stronger than the reality. They aren’t. As the sting of the slap recedes, I moan desperately, feeling as though I’m on the precipice of coming. I need more. Through my shaking and hitched breathing, I manage to blurt out, “Please…”
The plea seems to please him, or maybe it’s my desperation. A low, rumbling moan reverberates from his chest. His fingers slide up and down slowly at each side of my labia, the pressure growing by the moment. I whimper and moan again as he stimulates me, praying silently for an end to the teasing. I need him to ravage me, to spank me, to fulfill every one of our raw fantasies.
He rains down progressively harder slaps with brief moments of respite between them. The pain is intense enough that my body seizes up completely, the anguished sound I so desperately want to release trapped in my chest. My eyes widen, fixed on the ceiling.