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Black was like this, always dangerous, always flirtatious with danger, and with me.
Always getting me into trouble with Rhys.
My heart swelled with an ache anyway. I liked Black, and even though he was sometimes cruel to me, it was a good kind of cruelty that - I would never fully admit this - I enjoyed. I enjoyed the games he played with me, and sometimes I imagined that Black would try to claim me.
This part, I didn't have very well-figured out, though. What that would mean, not just practically speaking, but for the unending nights and days and sexual attention, games, torture, and humiliation I was subjected to. Not torture-torture, just pleasing torture, all of them using me for pleasure, working me up until I was nothing but a molten pool of lava... and then, at the orders of Rhys, leaving me just short of my final release.
I was naked when they put me here like this on the table. Even though I had done it before, and every one of them had seen me, pretty much inside and out, I could feel my face flush a little. Black said he liked this. He found it "cute," which was another word to add to the growing vocabulary I was learning with the men of this strange ship.
Once I was fastened to the poles, Black fasted the collar that held my neck in place, with my chin resting on the bars. It was confining, and humiliating, without being uncomfortable. If anything was every even slightly uncomfortable in a real way, all I had to do was tell Rhys.
Well, this went for anythingasidefrom the sexual ways they used me. That could be uncomfortable, but not in any truly bad way. I could complain about the way my head was tilted or how the mat rubbed my knees, but not the sting of a whipping or my ass stretching too much. These were attentions, disciplines, punishments, and pleasures, that I had to endure because it was what Rhys wanted.
For punishment days, Rhys liked to have the anal plug inside of me, which I was grateful for. The cleansing ritual that Doc submitted me to - also performed weekly, on a different day - was humiliating in a different way, and I preferred to think of my skin being whipped while the large red globe was nestled between my buttocks.
Also, I liked the feel of it, now that I had moved up to a size that was almost as large as Rhys's cock: with each flogging, I squirmed involuntarily (and maybe sometimes voluntarily), and the phallus inside me pressed up or down, or to the sides, reminding me of how tender and used all of my flesh was. And how much more tender and used it would become.
Behind me, someone - not Rhys, because Rhys ordered things like this to be done, and rarely did them himself unless we were alone (in which case, he was very enthusiastic about what he did)- attached the leather straps that held my feet in place. For punishments, they always placed them together, bound to the table.
I felt a sharp cinch today; it was likely Tor. Tor handled me more roughly than any of them, most of the time, and especially for group activities, like this. Alone, he was unpredictable, sometimes even tender and loving.
But then, they all were like that. Different together than they were alone. I wasn't able to figure it out, and I had honestly not had the energy to put much thought into it. They kept me occupied almost all the time, and when I wasn't occupied pleasing them while trying to keep myself from having an orgasm, I was fast asleep, exhausted.
My bottom was probably still red from the spanking Rhys had given me the night before. I could feel my skin itching, coming to life with a low burn where his hand had landed, again and again, while I was turned over his knee last night. I wondered if that transgression would be aired for all, here at my punishment day, or if he would keep it quiet, as he usually did.
"Today, Alena, is the day that you will submit to your weekly punishment," Rhys said, from behind me. "You will be whipped with a belt ten times, and you will thank me for each stroke and ask for another, to remind you of your place as a subservient female."
These are the same words that are spoken every time. A shiver of fear and of pleasure coursed through me. The way my head was attached to the bars, I couldn't look down, or away, in shame. I could only look forward, at whoever was staring back at me, their eyes burning into mine, dominating me even though I was already so vulnerable.
There was always a moment, just before Rhys began my standard punishment, when my situation was clear to me for a second: I was strapped naked to a contraption that thrust my ass up and from which I could not escape, and surrounded by so many men.
They could do anything they wanted to me.
It was temporarily terrifying, but the moment always passed.
Today, I felt especially vulnerable, because my ass was red with hand-marks and still so sore.
"Count."
Rhys did not whip me hard on these days, even if Ideservedmy punishment. Sometimes, I was disappointed by that, but this is not something I would ever say. He cracked the belt very loudly, and brought it against my bottom in a way that made a loud smack against my skin. The sound shook inside my heart, and rippled out through my body, seeping from between my legs, almost before it even reached my ears.
Crack!
But the sting, while searing hot, did not represent even a fraction of what I knew Rhys would have been capable of. Not because he ever did anything like that, but because by now I knew the contours of his body, the strength that he possessed even for just moving me around while he used me, and I knew the strength that theyallpossessed.
One could only conclude that the man who controlled fiercely strong men was stronger than all of them.
"One," I said, my voice strained as the heat of the smack bit fiercely into my sore skin and then began to spread over my bottom. "Thank you. Please give me more."
When I had first been forced to repeat this, it had been almost impossible to say. Even though I wanted it, the thick, syrupy weight of the humiliation it sent through me had been almost too much to bear. Now, maybe because I knew what would come, maybe because I had finally accepted that, at least for now, there was no other option, I enjoyed the sickly-sweet pang it gave me in my chest. Maybe I wanted to be subservient, submissive, enslaved.
Two, thank you, please give me more, three, four...smack, smack, smack.
By five, my eyes were getting wet. Because of the spanking that Rhys had given me the night before - which I deserved, because Ihadbeen disobedient - my skin was burning more fiercely than ever before. My voice cracked on six, and I barely manged to squeak out the final "Thank you, please... give me... more."
A fat teardrop rolled down my cheek.
Black stepped forward and leaned down to kiss it away. "Good girl," he said. He stroked my lips with his thumb.
