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“Prepare yourself, Sparkles. I want your asshole, now. You’re going to give it to me.”

“Yes, Sir,” I sobbed through my teeth.

He moved behind me, squeezing my forlorn butt. It hurt so much already that the pressure didn’t make much difference. I watched as he walked to his cabinet to grab a bottle of lube. On the way back he unzipped himself, grabbing his hugely rigid cock, pumping it as if it could possibly get bigger. Like the other men around us, he didn’t undress beyond the necessary amount to fuck me.

He lubed my ass quickly and efficiently, shoving in a finger or two to smooth the way as I moaned and went on my toes. His hands were rough on my hips as he positioned himself behind me.

“It hurts,” I said.

“I haven’t even started.”

“My ass hurts from earlier. From the tawse.” My clit ached too, the kind of ache that needed an orgasm to fix it. “Please…”

“Please…” he mimicked heartlessly. “Cute, but ultimately ineffective. Shut up and let me do what I want to you.”

I felt the head of his cock press against my hole. I clenched, unable to help it. I received a slap to each welted cheek for my trouble.

“Can’t you fuck my pussy?” I knew I sounded whiny, but I was approaching my pain threshold. “Please, Sir?”

“You’re complaining a lot for someone who’s supposed to be my submissive.” He pressed his cock forward again, breaching my anal ring. I bit my lip, pushing back, doing my best to accept the painful pressure.

“That’s better,” he said, as he managed to ease in an inch or two. He waited with his fingers tucked in the waist of my garter belt, a merciful enough sadist to let me adjust before he drove all the way into me. “Do you know why I like fucking your ass more than your pussy?” His whisper made my asshole pulse around his cock’s thick crown. “I like it because you struggle so beautifully. It hurts so much, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir,” I cried.

“But you like it. Once I’m inside you—” He shoved another few inches, an unavoidable onslaught. No safe words. No control. “Once I’m inside you, you start shaking with arousal rather than fear, and that excites me. Push your ass back against me, naughty girl. You do the rest, because you’re the one who needs this. Show me how deep you want me to go.”

I shook my head as if to deny his words, but my body obeyed, my hips pressing back to draw his cock into my most tender, vulnerable orifice. When he was buried all the way inside me, he rocked back and forth, teasing me, creating uneasy friction even with the lube.

“Good girl. I’m all the way inside your ass now. You love it deep, don’t you, baby? Deep and hard.”

Now that I was well-lubed and stretched to the hilt, I got it deep and hard, and only his hands on my waist kept me from collapsing in my bonds. There was something about being taken so carnally, with such disregard for my comfort. Other couples still scened around us, but I didn’t notice them or hear them anymore. My world was Fort’s power and his cock ramming into me as I hung from the iron arch.

Then I felt an unfamiliar presence, someone in front of me. I opened my eyes to discover the Dom from earlier, the one who’d fucked his submissive on her hands and knees with such violent possession. His eyes were blacker than any I’d ever seen, his skin a warm olive-gold. As Fort plowed into me, the man flicked one of my exposed nipples.

“She needs clamps,” he said, giving the nipple a twist.

Fort’s voice rumbled from behind. “I just took them off her.”

“Oh. Then this must hurt you.” The Dom’s lips widened in a debonair grin as he twisted the other one. I tried to shrink away, but Fort was still behind me, driving into my asshole. “Hello, sweet thing,” the man said. His voice held a faint accent, one I couldn’t place. “Don’t mind me. Whenever someone new comes, we’re all interested.”

I felt Fort chuckle, felt his breath against my ear. “Juliet, meet Milo Fierro. Milo, yes, I’m sure her nipples hurt.”

The man made a pleased noise. “May I?”

At Fort’s grunt of assent, he toyed with my nipples some more, pinching, flicking, tugging them like they were toys. His toys. I blinked back tears, avoiding his gaze, but Milo didn’t seem to like that. He pinched harder to regain my attention. “Why won’t you look at me, lovely?”

I closed my eyes. “Because I belong to him.”

He tapped my cheek, a light slap, shocking my eyes open. His black eyes had turned frighteningly stern.

“That’s better, little submissive. You might be his, but you also belong to me, don’t you? That’s what The Gallery’s about.” He rubbed a hand over the front of his pants, calling my attention to his stiff, obvious erection. “The only reason I’m not in your pussy right now is because I wouldn’t fit with his big dick plowing your ass.”

“Don’t scare her, Milo,” Fort murmured. “Help me hurt her. She wants to come.”

“Oh, it’s like that?”

I leaned my head back into Fort’s strength, sighing as his hand tightened around my neck. A keening sound rose in my throat, a sound of relief, a sound of pleasure. Yes, I wanted to come. I’d been tortured for an hour now, riled into a tangle of stimulated submission. Milo slid a hand around my upper back, preventing me from shrinking away as he opened his teeth on my nipples, alternately sucking and biting the already-sensitive tips.

“Oww. Ohhh.” I made begging sounds, felt them vibrate against Fort’s palm as it pressed to my throat.

“Don’t touch her clit,” Fort gasped. “She has to come from having her ass fucked, or not at all.”

The man he called Milo looked in my eyes and laughed. His dark eyes danced with amusement because he knew I was so close I was about to explode. “All the best sluts learn to come from a cock up the ass. It feels better to us sadists, you know, to fuck you and hurt you at once. Some sadists only use their submissives’ assholes for that reason.”

He bent his head again, sucking my nipples hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. Fort’s hand squeezed my throat tighter to match the rising pain Milo imparted. His cock pummeled my ass, and somehow, between his forceful fucking, my bound arms, my loss of control, and Milo’s awful nipple torture, the orgasm that had been building inside me broke wide. I lost control, gasping, choking on pleasure, bouncing back against Fort’s cock as tears squeezed from my tightly shut eyes.

Both my tormentors seemed amused as I twisted in my bonds. I surged forward against Milo, wishing I could rub my clit on something to increase my orgasm’s intensity. Neither man would let me. Both of them held me as firmly as the cuffs at my wrists.

When I returned to my senses, I jerked my shoulders, trying to dislodge Milo from my nipples, trying to arrest his awful sucking, especially now that I’d come. All I wanted to do was to rest, to not be touched.

“You wish I’d stop now?” Milo spoke in a low taunt, his long hair brushing my cheek. “But your Dominant’s pleasure is what matters here, and he’s still fucking your ass. This pain I’m causing makes you squeeze on his cock in a delightful way. Listen to the sounds he makes. Do they please you?”

I shuddered, gritting my teeth. “Yes. Yes, Sir. But—”

“No buts. Whose pleasure matters, his or yours?”

“His, Sir.”

His pleasure matters. You’re the submissive, meant to serve. I felt submissive, letting Fort yank my hair and pummel my ass as Milo continued his tireless nipple torment. I could tell Milo was the type of Dominant who liked to teach lessons. I said a silent prayer of thanks that I wasn’t one of his submissives, like that girl he’d fucked on her knees earlier.

Finally, when I was about to lose my mind, Fort buried himself inside me and stayed, humping my hips, climaxing forcefully as he squeezed my neck and pussy. Milo smiled and gave my nipples one last tweak. A faint, patronizing smile, and he was strolling away, letting me recollect my senses as Fort gasped behind me.

My orgasm had exhausted me, the finale to a long, strenuous evening. Mayb

e he could tell I was close to finished, because he released me gently, almost tenderly from my bonds, then collected me in his arms. We stood together a long time, then he wrapped me in a blanket and walked me to a nearby couch. There was already another couple on it, another blanket-wrapped submissive whispering with her Dom. All around us, scenes were winding up. I wondered if I looked as wrecked as the other women.

“So you survived,” he said, cradling me in his lap. “I hope it was a good orgasm.”

“It was.” Even now, those were the only two words I could string together. He stroked my back, my arm, the bare expanse of my right thigh. After a few more minutes had passed, he roused me, making me sit up. “Look at me, Juliet.”

I did, and the intensity of his eyes scared me. He seemed to be searching for my thoughts, like he might find them written on my face, amidst the tear streaks and smeared makeup.

“Was The Gallery anything like you thought?” he asked, cupping my chin to hold my attention.

“No, Sir.” It wasn’t. I never could have imagined the things I’d experienced today.

His eyes probed me, studying my expression. “Did you enjoy it?”

I touched my sore breasts and shifted on my still-throbbing ass. Had I enjoyed it? I’d come like hell, that was for sure. But at what price to my body? My psyche? My emotional life? One thing I’d discovered was that other sadists scared me. I only trusted Fort. I only felt comfortable with him, but I was afraid to admit that. This wasn’t a relationship. He’d said it so many times.

“I feel great right now,” I finally answered. I feel great in your arms, in your embrace. “But during our scene, things were pretty painful.”

“Good pain or bad pain?” he pressed.

“I don’t know. It was bad pain, but it turned me on. You felt how wet I was.” I shook my head. “I don’t know. I had a lot of feelings. Maybe I need to process for a while.”

“Feelings happen in places like this,” he said, letting me snuggle back against his chest. “It’s okay to have feelings. Just tell me if you think there’s anything I need to know. You know, things to do differently next time, or things you really weren’t okay with. Consensual non-consent doesn’t mean you have no input at all.”

“I know.”

“It’s just that sadism and masochism works best for some people if there’s an element of…desperation.”

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