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“Face the post.”

I turned toward the bed, but then he strode to the closet and disappeared inside. When he emerged a moment later, he was carrying a handful of belts. I started to tremble and had to lock my knees to stay upright.

Instead of whipping me with them though, he leaned in close. “Move closer to the post, Pet, until your sexy, little pussy presses against it.”

His breath against my neck made me shiver, but I moved closer until the cool wood of the post rubbed against my clit. A different kind of shiver raced through me. Then he was wrapping one of the belts around my wrists and the top of the post, shackling me in place. I thought he was done when he tugged on my wrists and they wouldn’t budge, but he grabbed another belt from where he’d dropped them on the bed.

I tried to brace for impact, but it never came. Instead, I felt the leather across my breasts, gently wrapping around them. He pulled tight then and fastened the buckle behind my back, and now my chest was strapped to the bedpost. Then another belt, around my hips this time, and buckled so tight the post pressed hard against my clit. It made me throb, but I could barely move, definitely not enough to get the friction I needed, unless, maybe if I moved my thighs…

Another belt wrapped around them just then and strapped them immobile too. Damn it.

“Comfortable, Pet?” he asked as something silky covered my eyes—the silk belt from the robe he’d bought me.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t see. All I could feel was the press of the post against the valley between my breasts and against my engorged clit.

“No, Master.”

“Good.” His footsteps retreated to the door and then he was gone.

6

Scarlett

I was alone and trussed up with no hope of getting myself free. And while I was nervous about how long he would leave me here and what he would do to me when he returned, I wasn’t terrified. I didn’t fear that he would beat me senseless or that he would make my body betray me in despicable ways.

Moments passed, and then what felt like hours. I had no way of keeping track of time. I strained to hear sounds of him returning, but there was only silence. My shoulders ached from being stretched up, my clit throbbed with my heartbeat and I could feel my wetness soaking my thighs. Just a little friction and I could take care of the pulsing fire between my legs, but I couldn’t budge.

I closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep, but I was too aroused for sleep. When I finally heard the click of the door, I had to bite my lip against the urge to beg. He moved to stand behind me. I could feel him there even though he didn’t touch me. God, I needed him to touch me.

I felt his breath on the back of my neck a split second before his finger slid along my sex. God, yes. I couldn’t stifle the cry that burst from my lips or the way my body jerked against the post.

“You’re very wet, Pet. I should leave you like this more often since you seem to like it so much.”

A whimper slipped out and I shook my head vigorously.

“No? Your pussy would suggest otherwise.”

He slipped a finger inside me and my muscles contracted, trying to draw him in deeper. He withdrew and chuckled.

“Not yet, Pet. We’ll get to satisfying that hole later.”

He grazed through my wetness, but this time he stopped further back and his finger pressed against my anus, pushing inside just a little.

“No, please don’t!” I cried out, trying to writhe away from his finger with no success. “Please Master, it’ll hurt.”

“Shh,” he said, stroking my back with his other hand. “It doesn’t always hurt, Pet. It can feel very good. I promise.” He hadn’t withdrawn his finger from me, but neither had he pushed more than his fingertip inside. “Take a slow breath and relax your muscles.”

The last thing I wanted to do was relax, but I tried to do what he said, taking one tremulous breath and trying to imagine every muscle in my body relaxing.

He pushed further, maybe to his knuckle, and I had to focus on another deep breath. And then his whole finger was inside me. It didn’t hurt. There was no pain. There was only…oh god. He slid out slowly and then back in and the sensation shot straight to my clit, making me throb twice as hard as before. A moan filled the room, and I was so distracted by the unexpected pleasure, it took me a moment to realize it had been my own.

“Good girl,” he said, but then he withdrew.

Part of me wanted to beg him to come back—to put his finger back inside me—but I couldn’t bring myself to beg him for that. It seemed too depraved, too much like the whore I didn’t want to be.

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