Page 90 of Plaything

This.

For you to touch me.

Don’t stop.

More.

The one that came out was much more desperate than anything I was thinking. “Stop teasing me,” I practically begged after Niko removed his thumb from my mouth, my voice coming out as a whimper.

“Is that how good girls ask?” Dominic husked against my neck. He pulled my arms above my head, forcing me to stand on my toes. My body stretched to the maximum.

“Please!” I added quickly. “Please stop teasing me.” My voice was breathy, and my body had one giant heartbeat that I could feel everywhere.

“Awe, that’s better, Baby,” Wyatt praised. “Please stop teasing me... what?” He hinted. His fingers moved closer to my entrance, encouraging me to answer.

A deep blush heated my cheeks as I pondered. Again, my mind went into overdrive, using my last remaining functioning brain cell. He wanted me to call him something. Daddy—no! Sir? Dominic was the one who reacted to those names, not Wyatt.

A sick, somewhat twisted name came to mind—one that embarrassingly sent another wave of arousal onto Wyatt’s fingers. “Please stop teasing me, professor.”

Dominic slowly moved my wrists lower, relaxing the strain on my torso. Wyatt hummed in approval, “Okay, Baby. We’ll stop teasing you.” His agreement sounded more like a warning, which made me nervous.

Something small, cold, and sharp touched my torso, and I flinched. Whatever it was, it moved down slowly, tickling everywhere it touched. Wyatt’s fingers plunged into me, and I cried out at the suddenness.

My knees would have given out if Dominic wasn’t holding me up. Aiden and Niko continued to move something all over my torso, making me flinch. It tickled more than anything, putting my body into overdrive.

The tickling, mixed with Wyatt’s fingers curling inside me, made me a moaning mess. “W-what is that?” I questioned, my curiosity getting the best of me.

“What does it feel like?” Aiden retorted.

Whatever it was felt amazing—it was small and sent tiny shivers through my body. The object they were using on my skin added to Wyatt’s fingers. The patterns they made on my skin, mixed with Wyatt’s attack on my pussy made a symphony. With a blindfold on, touch was my primary sense, and they were taking advantage of that.

For a moment, I thought I knew what the objects they were using were. They felt like the very tip of a dull knife, gently pressed into my skin, not enough to cut or feel painful—just small enough to tickle. “A... knife?” I attempted to form words.

There was a minor lapse where the only thing that could be heard was Wyatt’s wet palm slapping against my pussy. “That doesn’t scare you?” Aiden’s question seemed mischievous, as if he’d cracked a code.

Barely able to think, I shook my head no. I knew they wouldn’t hurt me. I felt silly for thinking that after knowing them for a short time. They’d gained a significant amount of my trust. I trusted them with my body, at least.

Pushing my hips into Wyatt’s hand, I tried to push his fingers deeper into me. Dominic’s free hand was also holding another object. His was running down my side, my hips, and down to my thigh. “You’re not bothered by sharp knives running down your soft skin? One wrong move—” he pressed the object harder into my skin, and I winced, but it wasn’t a stabbing pain. It felt like a small amount of pressure in my thigh. “And you’d get cut,” he finished.

My pussy clenched as he spoke, and Wyatt moved his fingers faster in response. “She’s not scared, are you, Baby?” Wyatt joined in. “You’re squeezing my fingers at the thought of it. You dirty little pain-slut.”

I moaned, clenching around him again. Pleasure consumed me, quickly building, and I was ready to let it shatter me.

“You look so fucking hot right now,” Niko exclaimed, his voice low. “Do you want to see yourself, Cariño?” He asked with that same false kindness. “You need to see the mess we’ve made of you, doesn’t she, Wyatt?” He prompted.

My arms were released from Dominic’s grip, allowing them to fall at my sides. I almost stumbled, but Wyatt’s arm hooked around my waist. The objects were taken from my skin, leaving tingles in their wake.

My feet weren’t touching the floor as Wyatt carried me a short distance. One of my legs was lifted, hooked over Wyatt’s arm as he stood behind me. My other leg was straight, my foot touching the ground. Wyatt continued right where we left off as he forced his fingers back inside me.

I cried out, holding onto his arm for support. The blindfold was slowly removed, leaving me distracted for a moment. In front of us, a large full-body mirror rested in the corner of the room.

The reflection made my heart stop—but only for a moment. I was bare; red scars trailed my torso, thighs, and hips in long lines.

My shock didn’t last long as my eyes adjusted. The scars weren’t scars. They were red ink. All down my body, they used their pens to tickle and tease me. Such a simple, everyday utensil...

My eyes focused on Wyatt’s hand. He was fingering me ruthlessly. With each slap of his palm against my pussy, I felt myself closer to the edge.

I watched in a trance, completely engrossed in the sight of myself, of Wyatt’s Hyde smirk, and my other professors in the background watching with lust. It was the most beautiful I’d ever felt in a mirror.

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