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“Here?” he asks teasingly, rubbing his fingers in slow circles.
“Deeper,” I tell him.
His fingers slide down to my hole, where he teases the entrance with two fingers in similarly slow circles. “Here?” he teases again.
“Deeper,” I say, more exacerbated this time.
“Do you want me to fuck you, Ten?”
“Yes, please, fuck me,” I beg desperately, and his fingers drive into my pussy as he begins to stroke my insides. His pace starts at a bearable speed, but soon quickens to something closer to torturous as I’m fucked relentlessly by his fingers from behind. I cry out in pleasure, my eyes closing to relish in every sensation he gives me.
When he slaps my ass, I yelp, flinching away from him instinctually at the shock of it. But he grabs onto my hip and pulls me back toward him, easing me back onto his fingers.
“You’re so fun to tease, Ten. Now, I really want tohearyou.”
Grabbing onto my hip, he holds me tight to him as his fingers thrust in and out. When he’s sure I’m not trying to escape him again, he strikes me across the ass. I feel him driving me closer and closer to the edge just from his fingers deep inside me. I’m about to spill over when a strangebeepsounds over the intercom, interrupting us.
Though Laurence slows his fingers, he doesn’t stop, switching to a slower pace as he continues to fuck me while an unfamiliar voice sounds over the speaker Ivan once spoke to me through.
“Hello, Ten. We are quite enjoying the show.”
I find it difficult to focus on forming words while Laurence’s fingers massage my insides.
“However, we’re interested in seeing a bit more, and how you react to it.” Laurence stops entirely, but his fingers still don’t leave me. “We want to see you use this.”
The door opens, and the rope artist enters, carefully placing what looks like a crop into Laurence’s free hand. Now he removes himself from me, and the entire event is making me feel like Lady Brett again, nothing but an image, a fuck toy to play with.
It’s intriguing how much I enjoy it.
Laurence feels out the crop, the blindfold still inhibiting him from seeing it entirely.
“We want your Advocate to remove his blindfold as well. He might as well enjoy the pretty welts he’s going to give you.”
Laurence pulls his blindfold off and the rope artist leaves the room, leaving me alone with my Advocate and my audience, which appears to hold my fate in their hands.
As Laurence begins to stroke my ass, eyeing where he’d like to hit me first, I raise my head, my arms extended out before me, still bound, as I look directly into the mirror.
“Just tell me when you’d like me to come.”
Chapter Nine: Laurence
The Countdown
The adrenaline of the games with Blue is far more satisfying than I ever imagined. In my dreaming of what it would be like to be in this room with her for this game, when I first watched her on screen, I never imagined it feeling quite likethis.
Holding the crop in my hand, gifted to me by her betting audience—who are no doubt laying down money for when she’ll come and how many times she will—I admire this sight of Blue. Tits popping out of her corset, thong pushed aside to expose her, hair a mess as she cranes her neck to peer back at me from her position on all fours, it’s impossible not to be entranced.
“Give me the best you’ve got, Sir,” she challenges me, and I feel my cock harden.
“We want you to make it to ten,” the voice says over the intercom, and I step into position to lash Blue with ten hits with the crop. “And we want you to count.”
Bringing back the crop, I lash her with one, the leather making a sharpslapagainst her skin as she convulses forward at the sting. A red welt is already in the making.
“One,” she says in a steady voice.
I whip her with another, and a moan comes from her.
“Two,” she breathes.
