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Panting, squirming in her cuffs, Anarchy wondered if she was truly blind beneath the blindfold. That jolt hadn’t come from the flogger, she’d be damned if it had. It had come from inside her, from…oh, fuck. Oh fuck. The butt plug. The butt plug, the remote…it all made sense now.
“Master Atticus, please! Please don’t—”
Another zap of electricity stole the words from her mouth. It lasted no more than a second, but she was coiled on the edge of orgasming in front of everyone. Frantically, she shook her head, knowing that taking the pleasure meant accepting the pain, and her ass wasn’t ready to meet the cane again. “Master Atticu—”
Her pussy spasmed delightfully, reacting to the short zaps of electricity torturing her rectum every time she spoke. Her thigh muscles were quivering, there was a puddle of her own fluids and lube growing beneath her, and her brain was slowly turning to mush.
“Don’t address me, little bit; I can’t help you right now. I believe Master Braun is who you need to negotiate with.”
The butt plug kicked off with a long, beautiful burst as if confirming it was indeed Avalon’s owner she needed to bargain with. Recalling the cold look in his blue eyes, there was a big bridge to mend before he’d give her any leniency, and that didn’t bode well for her butt tonight.
Inside or out.
On edge, waiting for the butt plug to flare into life again, she turned her head in the direction she thought the Avalon Masters were. Between the blindfold, her arousal, and the electric current humming in her blood, she wasn’t sure she knew which way was up anymore, let alone where the stage ended. She tried again. “Master Braun, please…” She paused, waiting for the zap. When none came, she relaxed a fraction. “Please don’t make me come. I’m sorry I was rude, I’m sorry I—”
She squealed, moaned, and orgasmed simultaneously, riding the current as Braun kept his finger on the button and forced her orgasm to keep rolling through her like a tsunami. “Oh no…Oh no…Oh no…”
“That’s really too bad, Anarchy."
Completely off balance, Archie did her best to look contrite. She hadn't meant to come against his orders, wouldn't have done if the damned plug hadn't shocked her rectum into corrupting her poor, neglected vagina. Prepared to apologize profusely—to beg, if that's what it took—she opened her mouth...and wheezed in a breath as a line of fire streaked across the tops of her thighs.
They weren't vicious strikes by any means. Perhaps under any other circumstances, when her skin wasn't already sensitive from the flogger and her misappropriated orgasm, the blows from the cane could barely be considered taps. But right now, when even a gentle breeze would set her flesh alight, those taps felt as though they were dealt by the world's strongest man.
Mercifully, Atticus delivered them as a set, one immediately after the other. “Brave girl, little bit. Look at you, taking your punishment with your head held high. Apologize to Braun and we'll move on, pretty girl.”
Head held high?Archie almost snorted. She was utterly thankful for the blindfold hiding her tears from the Masters. The sharp stings wormed inside her, bringing misery quickly on the heels of pleasure. Her throat was ridiculously tight; she didn't know if she dared try to speak. Didn't want them to know they were close to breaking her so soon into her making amends.
A big hand curled around her calf muscle, rubbed it slowly, gently. “You can hide behind the blindfold, sweetling, but the blindfold isn't hiding you. I might not be able to see your eyes, but I see your face clearly enough. Let the tears loose. We're not going to judge you for crying.”
Her breath shuddered out and she steeled herself against the burn simmering along her thighs. It took a few moments more than she bargained for, but she dragged herself back under control. When she could breathe without feeling as though her throat squeezed every breath dry, she lifted her head to stare in the direction of the seating pit, or so she hoped. “M-Master Braun. I'm so sorry I walked away from Avalon and...and ignored your calls. So very sorry,” she murmured weakly and let her skull thud back onto the padding.
“Good girl, Archie. Braun?” Atticus called out.
The answering silence was damning. Archie was prepared to throw herself on the Master's mercy; his disapproval was more cutting than any slice of the cane. Just as she opened her mouth to beseech him, Braun's voice broke through the darkness, smooth and warm.
“I think she's learned her lesson about turning her back on her family. You're forgiven, little one, but just remember what happens when you cut everyone who loves you out of your life. We missed you.” There was a gruff edge to his tone, but she heard the relief beneath it. “Passing the remote along to Loki.”
Oh God, if they were all taking a turn with the butt plug from hell, she’d be red raw from all the canings Atticus was going to dish out. Five Masters in the house, and she'd be very surprised if they didn't let Bodie have a turn—she might be a submissive, but Archie had blocked her just as firmly as she had the Dominants.
She flexed her fingers and Atticus moved straight to the head of the bench. The warmth of his hand encompassed the chill of her digits, checked the tightness of the cuffs. “Any tingling, numbness?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good girl. Tell me if that changes.” One last squeeze of her fingers and he stepped away again, leaving her in the godforsaken darkness. “Loki, when you're—”
Archie's hips arched off the table before Atticus finished speaking. This was nothing like what she'd experienced with Braun manning the controls—Loki, the sneaky bastard, must have upped the voltage on the remote. She had visions of her skin writhing beneath a veil of blue lightning, every muscle snapping taut. Keening, she twisted in her restraints, sweat springing up in awkward places.
When it stopped, she flopped limply onto the bench and groaned. She thought she should probably be embarrassed by the flood of moisture leaking from her pussy, but she didn't have the energy to care. Feeling swollen and as though someone had just hit her on the head, she gave brief thought to saying yellow. Just to catch her breath and get her balance back.
“Please don't do that again,” she managed to slur.
A second volley hit her; she squeaked a protest and flailed. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”
She thought she heard someone say something, then the plug stopped pulsing in her ass. She blinked like a drunken owl as the blindfold was peeled carefully away, and she squinted up into Atticus's somber face. “Wh-Wha?”
“Loki, you dick. Connie, a little help here. It's okay, Anarchy, you've hit your limit. Give me a couple minutes and we'll have you loose. You did good, little bit.” As he spoke, he was already unfastening the cuff from around her left wrist, carefully rubbing the limb between his big hands before he moved to the right. “Connie, can you remove the plug? She's starting to shake.”
“No,” Archie moaned. “Haven't...finished.”
