Page 13 of Bound By Mistake
"That's it, take it all," he growls, his grip on my hair tightening.
Another lash, another muffled scream. My skin feels like it's on fire, each new strike rekindling the pain of the last. Tears stream freely down my face now as Gray continues to thrust relentlessly into my mouth.
"Harder," he commands the man behind me. "Make her really feel it."
Like I’m not already!
The next blow is excruciating, drawing a strangled sob from deep in my chest. Gray's hips stutter as the vibrations from my cries travel through his cock.
"Fuck, that's good," he pants. "Keep going. I want to see the welts when I finally fuck her ass.”
In any other scenario, those words might have freaked me out, but as things are, I can’t even fathom it.
I lose count of the lashes after that, my world narrowing to an endless cycle of pain and choking as Gray uses my mouth for his pleasure.
Just when I think I can't take anymore, when black spots are dancing at the edges of my vision from lack of oxygen, something extraordinary happens. Something I’ve read about, but in the reality of these moments I’d severely doubted it could even be close to accurate… Still, everything changes; the pain morphs into an insidious pleasure, my mind transmuting the sensations into something entirely different. Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen, but suddenly I start to float.
The world around me blurs, the sharp edges of pain softening into something warm and hazy. My body feels weightless,disconnected from the brutal assault it's enduring. Each crack of the whip sends sparks of electricity shooting through my nerves, but instead of agony, I feel a building pressure, a coiling tension deep in my core.
Gray's thrusts become erratic, his breathing ragged. "She's getting wetter," the man behind me says in awe. "Look at how she's dripping."
I barely register his words, lost in the surreal sensations overwhelming me. My skin tingles, hypersensitive. Every brush of air, every point of contact feels exquisite. The cock in my mouth no longer feels intrusive, but like an extension of myself.
A particularly vicious lash across my ass has me arching and moaning around Gray's shaft. The vibrations push him over the edge, and he comes with a guttural groan, pumping his release down my throat. This time I swallow eagerly, desperate for more stimulation.
Gray yanks my head back sharply, his cock slipping from my mouth with an obscene pop. I gasp and cough, desperately sucking in air I didn’t even know I needed before his hand clamps around my throat, cutting off my airway once more.
"Look at me," he commands, his voice low and dangerous.
I force my tear-filled eyes to meet his steely gaze, even though my hazy mind isn’t altogether with it.
I try to concentrate on Gray’s expression. There's warmth there, but no hint of mercy or compassion. Just cold, ruthless desire.
"You're doing so well," he purrs, loosening his grip just enough to let me draw in a ragged breath. "But we've got so much more planned."
Knowing I’ve pleased him sends an unexpected thrill through me. I shouldn't want his approval, shouldn't crave more of this torment. But my body betrays me, trembling with need.
"Please," I gasp, the sound garbled because of the ring gag. I'm not even sure if I'm begging for mercy or begging for more. Gray has his own ideas about that, though.
His hand slides from my throat to cup my face, his thumb tracing my swollen lips. "Such a greedy little slut," he murmurs. "Already begging for more, aren't you?"
I whimper, unable to deny it. The floating sensation intensifies, my mind drifting further from reality.
Perhaps it’s a self-defense mechanism or something.
"Cain, Erik,” Gray calls over my shoulder. "I think it's time we gave our little toy what she really wants."
Chapter
Nine
GRAY
This woman! Fuck, she’s everything I could ever have wanted. Not just in this engineered fantasy that’s been created for us, but for something way beyond that. It’s ridiculous, but I can’t help wondering if she’d be open to continuing some kind of relationship once we all go back to our regular lives.
It’s not something that’s touched upon in depth by Primal Fantasies, the company who arranged this. They deliberately keep all our identities strictly confidential, but it’s up to us whether or not we use our real first names, or something else, while we’re here. I know for a fact the contract specifically prevents us from exchanging information while we’re playing out our fantasy scenario, but there are special clauses we can use after the fact, if all parties are agreeable. But that’s all worked out on our behalf in the cold light of day when none of us are otherwise engrossed in the insane intensity of what’s happening during our scheduled weekend. Something about it detracting from the fantasy if we start making things real. I guessthat might be a thing. It’s certainly something to think about, anyway.
But so is taking things further.
