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“What does a little sub say when she gets to submit?” Grigory’s voice is firm and deep, swooshing straight into my brain and settling at the very stem.
My mind is too hazy to figure out what he wants me to say.
“What does she say?” he repeats with warning.
My thoughts flit back to this morning—what he said when we were alone in the kitchen. The promise of pain. The expectation of me thanking him.
“Aaank you,” I garble through the gag. The moment the words fall off my lips, the pain changes. It’s not that Grigory eases his grip. No, his hand still has my breast in a vise. It’s the way I perceive the pain that changes. It’s no longer a cruel torment. It’s a symbol of his dominance—my submission. And that makes it easier to bear.
My breast is still aching like a hundred knives are jabbing into it, but the chaos in my mind dwindles to a blur, and I feel like I can breathe again.
“Good girl.” Grigory presses a gentle kiss to my temple. “My sweet little masochist.”
I moan at his appraisal, and the stabbing pain mixes with a heated sensation that courses through my body and gathers low in my belly.
“What happens if I dip my fingers into your cunt?” he asks, knowing exactly how the mix of pain and humiliation affects me.
I groan. I know it too, but I’m shocked, nonetheless, to find just how wet I am as he slips a finger between my folds.
He scoffs. “You dirty, dirty little girl. You’re almost dripping on the floor.”
He releases my breast, but I don’t even get a moment to recover before he grabs my nape and shoves me forward, through the room. My feet stagger, but just like last night, Grigory never lets me fall. He throws me onto the bed and arranges me on my back in one quick motion.
“Don’t move,” he says with a dangerous warning and leaves my side.
I’m not sure I would even if he hadn’t delivered the order. Too many endorphins are swirling through my system, and I’m still reeling from the suddenness of it all—the relief of him releasing my breast and the force of being shoved onto the bed.
My head is still muddled and disoriented when he returns, and I lie completely still, my limbs heavy and pliant, as he starts tying my arms and legs to the corners of the bed. My breathing deepens as he goes, heat swirling in my belly, gathering low in a pulsing rhythm. Slowly, life returns to my body as desire rises to the surface, and I start tugging at my limbs once they’re secured. The ropes don’t give. I can only move my arms a few inches, and my pussy remains on full display no matter how much I twist and turn.
Slow moans seep from my mouth as the feeling of being trapped goes to my head, sending a new rush of heat through my system.
Grigory gets up on the bed between my open legs and slides his thumb through my folds, dragging moisture upward to circle my clit a few times.
I moan around the gag, feeling like I could come any second.
I let out a dissatisfied groan when he removes his finger.
A moment later, something smooth and wide presses against my opening. Too wide, I realize as Grigory tries to force it inside me.
I lift my head, the motion causing a surge of dizziness to blur my vision before I can focus on the huge dildo Grigory is pressing against my opening.
Garbled sounds slip from my mouth as panic courses through my veins like a shot of adrenaline. It’s way too big. Unnaturally so. There’s no chance in hell it will fit. I tug on the restraints and yank when they don’t budge. My heart starts pounding, and I force all the urgency I can muster into my whimpers.It’s too big.
“Shh,” Grigory soothes. “You can take it—because I want you to.”
My submissive being wants to lap up his words, but incredulity clashes with the need to submit as he starts pushing. It’s too wide. My inner walls stretch painfully, and I kick my legs however much I can in the restraints.
I press my head into the mattress and stare at the ceiling, trying to shut out the feeling and forget how helpless I am. If I want to stop this, I have to use my safeword, and I can’t do that. There’s just no way.
A pained whimper escapes me as he pushes farther, making me feel like he’s tearing me apart. “Kleeease,” I beg around the rubber ball, even knowing he won’t yield.
“Devochka, look at me.” His voice is calm and level, but the uncompromising note makes it impossible not to heed his words.
My eyes flicker to his, watching as he drags in a demonstrative breath, his lifted brows urging me to imitate.
My response is instinctive. I inhale deeply and blow the air back out on his cue.
He pushes the dildo a bit farther, and panic flutters at the edges of my mind, blurring my vision, but Grigory shoves the terror back with another demand for me to breathe. He keeps going like this, forcing the toy into me while guiding my breathing.
