Page 63 of Valentine's Slave

Ava smirks. “May I have some water, please?”

Handing her the bottle, I let her drink, and then I pull the blindfold off.

“Now, since you were clearly bored enough to violate the rules of the treasure hunt, I’m going to make you scream,” I murmur, looking straight into those blue eyes as I bring the gag to her lips.

“You can try.” Her voice is even.

This is a new tactic for her, and a challenge excites me even more. She’s unpredictable, fiery. But I’m not keeping her, and I will break her before she leaves here so that she’ll neverwantto come back.

I fit the leather plate between her teeth. It pulls her lips open, and I fasten it tight at the back of her neck, just above her collar.

“Put your hands straight up above your head,” I instruct her.

The St. Andrew’s cross is at her back, and when she lifts her arms, I fasten one wrist and then the next in the cuffs at the top of each side of the X, and she automatically grabs on to the small metal bars just above the cuffs. She looks ready for what’s about to happen, and determination blazes from her features.

When I pull the lever behind the cross, Ava is lifted up off the ground, hanging from the bars, since she refuses to let go and let the cuffs hold her weight. She’s using her own strength, which I know will both tire her out and add to her pleasure. She’s nearly at eye level with me, suspended a few inches off the ground, legs hanging free, her skimpily clad body up on display for me.

I brandish the whip from before, and Ava watches me with careful eyes. Reaching forwards, I squeeze one of her breasts, yanking the ribbon off her nipple and then tearing the lingerie completely from her body. A small moan slips out of her mouth, but I can tell she’s trying not to make a sound. That will soon change.

Leaning down, I grab a chain with two nipple clamps from the wicker basket, and Ava’s eyes turn to saucers as she realizes what I’m about to do.

“Remember, you told me you wouldn’t scream,” I murmur, slowly dragging the whip down her ribs and then snapping it against her abdomen. She flinches but doesn’t cry out. Her knuckles are turning white as she maintains her weight, and I tease her with the cool sensation of the chain, rubbing it along her skin before fastening a clamp onto each nipple.

Ava sucks in a breath as the jaws of the clamps grip her nipples, which are now bright pink and hard. Her breathing is ragged, and my eyes slide down her body as she clenches her pussy.

“None of that.” I whip down her thigh, spreading gentle bites across her skin, letting the whip catching the outer lips of her pussy. “Let it all out,” I order “You can’t hold your pleasure back from me.”

I lean forwards, my hands on her hips, and I rub my cock against her pussy as I press my lips to her neck, nipping her skin, all the way up to her earlobe, which I take between my teeth.

Ava shivers, and I slide one hand up and down her thigh before finally slipping it between her legs.

“You like that,” I murmur.

I finger her while darting my tongue into her ear, and I feel the effects of it ripple down through her core. Now, taking my finger out of her pussy, I reach around behind her, squeezing that perfect ass. I graze my nails along her skin until the fishnet stockings rip.

I rip off the rest of her stockings, stripping the material from her legs, leaving her completely naked except for the collar, anal plug and nipple clamps.

Wrapping my hand around her tail, I twist it in little circles, and Ava moans. My beard brushes against her chest as I run my lips up her neck.

“Lift your knees to your chest and then lower them,” I say. “Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

Pulling back, I take the whip again. I sense that Ava is getting tired, but she doesn’t let go of the bars. Instead, she closes her eyes, perhaps to focus, and she slowly lifts her naked legs to her chest.

As soon as she lifts her knees above her waist, I lean down and snap the whip against her pussy from below. She tenses but doesn’t make a sound as she lowers her legs, and then, taking another breath, she begins another rep. But she’s going too fast, rushing through it before her muscles can experience the appropriate burn.

“Slower,” I command, slapping the side of her ass.

She slows her pace, the chain between her breasts quivering.

Smirking, I snap the whip across her chest, which rustles the chain and tugs on the nipple clamps. Ava bites down on the gag, but a gasp still escapes her lips. When she lifts her legs again, she begins to tremble.

“Freeze,” I say, when I can tell that her abdomen is full engaged, and her pussy has started to work its magic from the inside.

I reach one hand under her and begin to twist her tail while I drag the whip up and down her arms and legs, switching between gentle brushes and harsh snaps.

Ava’s breathing speeds up, and I know she’s about to come. But she’s not going to—not yet.

While snapping the whip against her breasts, I slap the side of her ass, fast and hard, breaking the flow of her pleasure with the shock of the impact. Ava’s entire core begins to shake, but when I yank both sides of the chain at once, she screams. Her breath coming in mangled gasps, and I slip my fingers between her legs, flicking her clit so hard that her trembling stops, and her shoulders sag as she drops her weight.

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