by J. C. Cliff
With Travis hating me now anyway, I felt I had nothing to lose and nothing to gain by acting on my anger. Some of the pent up and left over frustration Travis had put me through most likely contributed to the tipping of the scales. Nick, however, was the catalyst that precipitated the final blow, making me lose my cool, and I have no doubt this outburst is going to cost me dearly. Why the hell couldn’t I just let sleeping dogs lie? I think he was completely satisfied with the punishment he just doled out, but no. I just had to open my big mouth.
Nick’s lips twist into a cruel smirk, then his eyes narrow on mine as his heated anger bores a hole right through me. “You should never bite off more than you can chew, Julianna, because I am a lot to swallow.” Then his lips twist in a cruel smirk. “So many implements to choose from,” he begins as he rubs his jaw in false contemplation. His eyes scan over the length of the wall as he looks for just the right torture device. I can plainly see he wants to taunt me first as he blatantly digs into the depths of my fear.
I follow his smooth movements as he walks toward the wall, and watch with growing fear and trepidation. He reaches out, running an index finger down the length of a long leather whip. Nick then turns back to me as he raises an eyebrow in question, and I feel the little hairs on the nape of my neck stand on end. “I wonder…should I use a flogger, a cane, or a paddle on your bare ass?”
My eyes bolt wide open, and my gut clenches. Panic is evident in my voice as I whisper shakily, “Please, no.”
Nick takes a couple of steps forward, infringing upon my personal space again, and I swallow hard. He reaches out to spear his fingers through my hair, forcing my head back at an odd angle as he stares me down. I can feel the strength in his fingers as he tightly grips the back of my hair, and I can see the strong muscles in his jaw working overtime.
The deep timbre of his voice sends shivers down my spine, because his tone is laced with a calmness that is undermined by his heated words. “You fooled me, Princess. You fooled me real good. I’m not made an ass of easily, I’ll have you know. You’ve accomplished something today only a select few could’ve ever hoped to do in their lifetimes and live to tell about it.” He bares his straight, white teeth with a bitter snarl, and I can smell the whiskey as it skates off his breath. “But you just couldn’t quit while you were ahead, could you? You just couldn’t help yourself. Travis was right when he said you’re incorrigible.” Nick shakes his head at me, pure disdain and contempt rolling off his facial features. I can feel the barely restrained rage radiating off of him. “It’s the biggest fucking understatement of the century, and I think it’s time for a lesson in Submission 101.”
He lets go of me then steps away, wasting no time as he retrieves a whip from the wall. I gasp, whispering a horrified, “No!”
“No?” Both his brows arch in mock confusion. “There’s no reason to worry, love. I’m not a neophyte, if that’s what you’re worried about. My aim is so impeccably precise I could extinguish the flame of a lit candle without even nicking the wick.” His eyes take on a look of adoration as he watches the length of the plaited leather slide slowly through the palm of his hand, while speaking with a fondness that has me petrified.
“This can create some of the sweetest of sensations,” he begins, glancing at me out of the corner of his eyes before he continues, “I can make the tip of the whip feel exactly like the delicate tongue of a lover, reverently kissing your skin with the sweet sting of passion.” His confession unnerves me, because I know I am anything but his lover at the moment. “Or…this whip can create some of your worst nightmares, torturing you with every strike.” With his gaze transfixed on the whip, it’s as if he’s become one with the implement in his hand, and the whip is a living thing, both of them emitting a strong sense of power and supreme savagery.
Nick stands powerful and tall like a well-practiced lion tamer, with febrile energy bouncing off him. He then takes a few steps back and to the side of me while he makes a show of laying the length of the whip out on the floor behind him. He’s arranged the whip to look like a coiled eight-foot long, black, venomous snake, ominous and threatening. Gripping the whip’s handle tightly in his hand, he looks directly at me as a sinister smile plays on his lips. “For tonight, I do believe you’ve met the nightmare end of the spectrum.” And just that quick, I watch in horror as he pulls the handle of the whip back over his shoulder, he uses his entire forearm as an extension of the whip, and aims it only a foot or so away from my body.
It all seems to happen in slow motion. The fresh scent of new leather wafts under my nose as I watch the rope languidly snake through the air, unwinding before me. When Nick flicks his wrist backwards, the whip then explodes into a thunderclap before me. I scream out in response while pulling hard against my restraints, trying to rip free from this madness. My heart pounds hard against my breast bone, while the resounding burst from the whip’s eruption echoes throughout the room and rings in my ears. I’m terror-stricken. I feel as if the crack of the whip has spilt my chest in two, just as singing a high-pitched note could shatter a wine glass.
Nick arches his brow as he cocks his head to the side, regarding me with a slow, sardonic smile on his face. “But some things are better experienced, rather than described, don’t you think, love?” I feel my stomach twist in a knot. I want to vomit, but being as he denied me dinner, there seems to be nothing in my stomach to hurl at him.
“Though, this one is particularly stiff, and not to mention my preference gravitates toward a more flexible model,” he states matter-of-factly as he turns toward the wall of torture devices. I watch in complete terror as his eyes survey each item with purpose and intent. “Ah…here we are.” He steps forward, reaches out to grab another whip from the wall, and then holds it out in front of me, showing me his chosen implement with pride. “My favorite—the Texas Bullwhip.” I’m stunned stupid for the moment, my mind spinning with the realization he’s actually going to whip me.
The one he holds in his hand is much shorter than the previous one, but not any less threatening. He nods his head over to Justin with a silent command. I had forgotten he even existed until now; he’d been so quiet. My eyes bounce between the two men with my heart in my throat as I wonder what in the hell they’re planning to do next.
Nick and Justin make quick work of unbuckling my restraints, and I pray Nick was just messing with me. Justin grips my elbow, holding me steady as I take a step away from the cross. The only things I’m wearing are my high heels, but it’s the least of my worries right now as I push my modesty issues aside. I don’t want to play “let’s scare the crap out of Jules” anymore. My voice is just as shaky as my legs. “I’m sorry, Nick. I promise I’ll behave from now on.” I swallow hard, but my mouth is so dry all I wind up doing is choking on a dry lump.
Nick immediately pipes in with a sound of disapproval. “Tsk, tsk…oh, my sweet Julianna. We haven’t even begun yet. We’re just getting started.” The last thing I see is Nick’s evil grin just before he slides a silk blindfold over my eyes.
Panic of the worst kind immediately takes place front and center, and I tense with fight or flight instincts. Justin must pick up on what I’m about to do, because his grip tightens on me, reminding me its two strong men against one small female. I feel the blindfold being snuggly knotted at the back of my head, and my ears automatically tune to a supersonic high alert.
Suddenly, I feel four hands on me at the same time as they both spin me around, pushing the front of my body against the hard contours of the cross. I’m so shaken up I almost dry heave. It’s without mercy my arms and legs are being roughly spread apart far and wide, mirroring the outline of the cross. When I feel the restraints being tightened around my wrists and ankles, I lean my forehead against the wood and close my eyes.
I manage to suck in a ragged breath. I’m not even sure my heart is beating at this point. I’m a bundle of nerves, full of anticipation, and Nick hasn’t even done anything yet. I want to scream at the top of my lungs
, but I have a feeling I’ll need to save every bit of my energy for this battle, since no one is going to come to my rescue. I swear if Travis were to come through these doors right now and rescue me, I’d take all of him back, meanness and all. Despite the way he treated me the past couple of times, he told me he would never hurt a woman, and I wholeheartedly believe him. I’m certain Travis would never do this to me, no matter how irate I made him. A large part of me believes he was full of idle threats, because even in the heat of his anger, I didn’t feel as if he would hurt me with physical pain.
Somewhere beyond his stone exterior is a good man with a conscience; I just know it. Travis’ intense emerald eyes held such veracity, and their sparkle would always give him away. Somehow, I find the nerve to speak, even though I’m a basket case.
“Travis would never do this to me. Why are you doing this?”
“I’m your fucking owner, not Travis.”
“Well, maybe he should be. I know he would never strike me out of anger.” I squeeze my eyes tightly closed behind the blindfold and flinch, realizing I brazenly spoke without thinking again. An eerie silence settles over the room, sending shivers down my spine. Nick’s lips touch the shell of my ear, startling me.
“Looking back now, I can see it...all the times I’ve watched you and Travis through the camera feed. You naturally submitted to him without any Blyss required.”
Since my legs are secured now, I’m splayed wide open, on display for him to do with me whatever he sees fit. I flinch when I feel his hand slowly begin tracing a line down my spine. Chills of terror take over, dispersing over the surface of my skin from head to toe.
“Justin, you can leave now. I can take over from here.”
“Yes, sir.”
In an afterthought, Nick speaks again, “And Justin, I want all cameras turned off in this room.”
Oh, shit. What does this mean? With no witnesses, he’s got free reign—not that he didn’t before, but the thought of it just being Nick and me has created a new dynamic of ominousness in the room. I’m so sick with twisted fear I break out in a cold sweat and feel the tickling fingers of nausea making its way up the back of my throat. I fight desperately to find a breathing pattern to calm my frayed nerves, but nothing is helping.
Nick ignores my panic and continues taunting me with questions I can’t answer. “Why is that, princess? Why didn’t you need the Blyss to submit to Travis? Care to enlighten me, hmm? As his lips rest against my ear, his hum vibrates against my skin, causing tremors to rack my body. “Mind if I take a guess?” His voice drips with such sarcasm I think he’s officially become unhinged from his mental faculties.
My unfiltered mouth had put me in this predicament, so I force my lips closed. He’s egging me on anyway, and no matter what I say at this point, it would be the wrong answer.
His nose traces along the long curve of my neck as he whispers, “Your body will learn to respond to me, and only me.” He grazes along the outer edge of my earlobe with his tongue before drawing it between his teeth and biting down. I gasp aloud as he then flicks his warm tongue over the injured site, breathing heavily in my ear. “You will not just learn to like the naughty, you’ll begin to live for it, beg for it,” he whispers smoothly.
His finger moves from the base of my spine, and keeps going until he glides slowly over my forbidden hole, causing me to squirm. “Ah, Princess, have no worries tonight. This special place will be saved for another time. We’ve got enough on the agenda for one night, wouldn’t you say?” I feel his fingers slip past and I breathe a sigh of relief. His fingers find what they were looking for as he begins to caress my outer folds. “Mmm, just what I thought. You’re so deliciously wet for me.”
He’s right; the Blyss has kicked in, so I am soaking wet. I feel the traitorous moisture lubricating his fingers as he teases open my folds to slip two halfway in. He begins swirling them around in a small circle, deliciously teasing me. My heartbeat accelerates as need suddenly rushes to my core, and I moan with a low growl of frustration as I desperately try to push against his hand, all while restrained. Damned Blyss. I’d love nothing more than to turn the tables on this bastard, give him a taste of his own medicine; the problem is he’d enjoy it.
“Let me tell you a little story about Travis, dear.” His voice is low, ragged, and cruel. “He doesn’t fuck the merchandise, and he never will, because you are nothing more to him than a job, a paycheck. He will never see you in any other light. So you can get over that shit right the fuck now.”
A third finger slips in, this time deep and hard, causing me to cry out with need. “Oh, my God, please!” His fingers plunge and twist simultaneously, filling me full while stretching out the inner walls with exquisite deftness. My brain is stuck on the same spin cycle, a sexual high with a touch of bliss. The centrifugal force of desire has splattered the last remnants of my sanity from my brain, because I want…no, need Nick to put out this fire he’s created.
In a bemused voice, Nick teases, “Oh, now she says please. Please what, Princess? Please fuck your wet pussy? Are you ready for me now, ready for a real man?”
“N-no! Please, st-stop!” I blurt out quickly, panic constricting my lungs as my breath comes out fast and shallow. Suddenly, I feel his other hand come into play as he begins to rub in a slow, tortuous circle around my bundle of nerves. I can feel something beginning to build inside me. Tingles race down my spine as I throw my head back against his shoulder, my mouth falling open as pleasure begins to topple over my fears. I’m on the edge of a sweet release as his strong, calloused fingers plunge in and out of me relentlessly.
He chuckles against my ear, his hot breath rippling through me as he speaks condescendingly, “You think you’re so special to Travis, so different from the rest? Do you think you’re the only one here?” My hands feel clammy as I fist them together, and I can feel myself breaking out in a nervous sweat. “Oh, sweetheart, first love’s a bitch. He treats all the women here the same. Know why he doesn’t fuck the merchandise? I’ll tell you why—because he’s in love with another woman, and that woman is not you.”
As the last of his harsh words are being spoken, my legs quake. Both of his hands suddenly disappear, and even though I’m blindfolded, I can feel the second he steps away from me. Since I can’t see what he’s doing, I strain my ears to hear. Of course, not knowing where he’s standing, I wonder if this is it, the beginning of the end. I keep telling myself he won’t go through with this, and he’s just trying to scare me like he did with the oversized whip. The deafening silence is killing me, so I begin to hyperventilate. I’m terrified of the unknown as I’m left wondering if he’s actually going to unleash his madness upon me.
His voice booms from behind me, startling me. “This is my kink, Princess. Travis has been too slow to teach you, so please allow me the honors of introducing you to my world.” His voice is deep, but lined with remorse. “I’m only sorry your first experience with my superior skills will not be for pleasure.”
My muscles tense as I hear a rustle behind me. Then suddenly, a loud whistle sounds through the air, and before I know it, the whip strikes me on my back with a loud, explosive pop. I give a long, loud, piercing cry on contact. The pain is searing, and I scream so loud I wonder if the outside world can hear me through these concrete walls. Another harsh sting quickly follows, then another in quick succession, each lash of the whip striking me somewhere different across my back. Searing pain immediately follows and spreads to every nerve I own.
An uncontrollable, screaming rant consumes my lungs as he lands three more strikes, all choreographed to hit precisely where he wants to inflict the bite. By the time he finally stops, giving me a moment to catch my breath, I realize the blindfold is soaked with my tears. I can’t believe someone could get off on this shit. It fucking hurts!
Sobbing heavily, I plead for my life. “Oh, my God! Please...please stop!”
“Wrong answer,” he bellows from behind me.
Anger and fear swirl and m
ix together in my chest simultaneously, but before I can give him a piece of my mind, another crack sounds out, striking my shoulder blade. I swear this lash breaks the sound barrier as the leather makes a small sonic boom against my flesh and bone. My back instinctively and automatically arches away from the scourging.
Bright stars glisten and shine behind my eyelids, my throat is horridly dry from my screaming, and my verbal rants have turned into hoarse, croaky squawks. Frantically, I attempt to twist my body in such a way as to lessen the blow of the whip’s tail, but there is no escaping this hell. My restrained attempts to move are pathetic at best as I squirm like a worm on a hot rock.
“Hold still! Not unless you wish to have permanent marks, or worse, need stitches.”
“I feel like I already need stitches every-fucking-where!” I scream in protest. My heart’s pounding a mile a minute. I no longer care about being naked; the past humiliation he put me through seems like child’s play. Naked and mortified is better than pain any day of the week. It feels as if my back and legs are covered with thick, hot blood, and I can feel the welts pulsate in time with my heartbeat. Prickly stings are assaulting me from every direction, and it feels as if I’ve landed in a huge hornets nest. Every lash feels as if he’s breaking the surface of my skin, causing deep, gaping gashes.
“Language, Princess!” Nick scolds, and I cry out. All I can do is sob as my body goes limp then taut with each strike. The restraints are digging into my wrists as I pull against the cuffs mercilessly, praying I can break free from them.
When he pauses, I can hear him approaching me from the side and I can smell his cologne. I feel his hot breath panting beside my ear as if he’s the one who’s been whipped. The sadistic bastard is most likely savoring my panic and pain. A low, gritty voice enters my ear and trails down my spine, giving me goose bumps.