Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 202638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1013(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 675(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 202638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1013(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 675(@300wpm)
I enter the dimly lit communal room, ignoring the few scenes playing out in front of me, while trying to blank out the erotic music that’s invading my hearing. I’m not here to be turned on. I head to the right and find myself where I want to be.
Two men, I recognise neither, are talking quietly while a women puts her underwear back on. I approach the scene and they all turn their attention on me, the conversation ceasing as I get closer. One of the men watches me cautiously while the other eyes me approvingly, his face breaking out into a dark smile. I kick my shoes off and pull my t-shirt up over my head before throwing it to the floor and unfastening my jeans.
‘Come to play, sweetness?’ One of the men drawls as he starts towards me.
‘Steve, leave her.’ The other guy warns. He clearly recognises me. I throw him a filthy look, and he shakes his head. ‘Steve, you need to leave her.’
‘She wants to play, don’t you, sweetness?’ His eyes are dark but sparkling at me.
‘She’s Jesse’s girl, Steve. It’s not worth it.’ His friend tries to reason with Steve, but he looks like he’s on a mission and doesn’t like being told what to do, which is just what I need.
‘All’s fair in sex and The Manor.’ Steve quips on a smirk. ‘What can I give you, sweetness?’
‘Seriously, Steve, she’s special to him.’
‘She’s special all right. Now she can be special for me too. Ward has never had an issue with sharing before.’
His words stir the bile that’s coating my throat, and I watch as the sensible man grasps the woman’s arm and pulls her away with a cautious look all over his face. This Steve, though, he’s cocky and confident, but not in an attractive way. Not that it matters. I’m not planning on kissing the man.
I walk over to the stand by the wall and pick out the fiercest looking whip I can find before turning and handing it to him with steady hands. Any reluctance will foil me and this is the only way that I can demonstrate to Jesse how crazy all of this shit is. His face spreads into a wide smile as he accepts the whip and runs his eyes down my semi nakedness. I remove my jeans and walk over to stand myself under the suspended gold frame and hold my hands above my head. ‘No contact, just the whip. Hard.’ My voice is clear and totally resolute. I feel resolute. I have no fear or hesitations at all.
‘Hard?’ he asks.
‘Very hard.’
‘What about your bra?’ His eyes are fixed firmly on my chest.
‘The bra stays.’
‘Fair enough.’ He nods and saunters over, tucking the handle of the whip in his back pocket. He reaches up to secure my hands in the manacles on the gold suspended frame.
‘Steve, you need to stop.’
‘It’s none of your business.’ I grate.
‘You heard her, she wants this.’ Steve looks up at me with hooded eyes filled with lust, before he starts walking around the back of me.
My heart starts a heavy, steady thump in my chest and I close my eyes, reciting Jesse’s words in my mind.
It’s not possible. It’s not possible. It’s not possible. It’s not possible.
I blank my mind of everything except that, the music fades and I brace myself for my own punishment – my punishment for reducing Jesse to a fraught mess of a man, for making him need alcohol, not just want it, for turning him into an uptight, neurotic freak…for making him do this to himself.
I hear it before I feel it. A fast, sharp whip though the air before it connects with my back. I cry out.
Holy fucking shit!
The thrash sends a continuous stabbing pain radiating throughout my entire body and my legs turn to jelly. People volunteer themselves for this? I’ve volunteered for this? I keep my eyes firmly shut. It’s only now I realise that we didn’t agree on a number of strikes. I hold my breath and grit my teeth as a second lash falls across my back, and I mentally plead with myself to keep quiet and accept the beating.
I tense myself, waiting for the next hit and when it comes, I release my body, hanging helplessly from the frame. I’m at the complete mercy of this stranger. The fourth, fifth and six thrashes connect at even intervals until I’m familiar with when to expect the strikes, and I’ve completely numbed out what I’m doing. I’m completely crazy. I’m totally unaware of my surroundings, the music is dull in the distance and the voices around me are quiet. The only thing I’m alert of is the timing between each lash and the air whipping before the leather connects with my flesh. I might be unconscious. I’m not sure. I’m not even tensing anymore.