He did the same to her other wrist, and she didn’t fight him, eager to see what they would do. Rul didn’t stop there, though, fixing leather shackles to both of her ankles and dancing his fingers up the back of her leg, over her ass, all the way until he fisted a knot of hair at the back of her head.
“How does that feel, baby?” he whispered. “You’re so helpless, utterly at our mercy.”
Isabelle trembled, worried that her legs would give out, though her body was screaming with arousal.
“It feels good,” she breathed, and there was a smack at her ass, the sharp sound making her ears ring.
“This is exactly where you want to be, isn’t it? I knew you’d love this.”
It was Rul’s smooth voice again, and anxiety filled her, wondering if Bellinor was there. He hadn’t spoken since Rul had taken over, and she couldn’t hear anything beyond the clanking of chains as she tested them. She whimpered, opening her mouth to speak before shutting it once more.
“What is it, sweetheart?” Rul cooed, brushing her hair over her shoulder and planting a soft kiss on her neck.
“Where’s B-Bellinor?” she asked, already too far gone to be ashamed.
Rul chuckled, stepping away and leaving her, anticipation creeping through her nerves as she awaited an answer.
“See? I told you she likes you. You worry so much, and here she is, crying because she wants you here.”
Isabelle’s cheeks flushed as she heard Bellinor’s deep growl, a hand at her waist making her jolt against the restraints.
“I’m here, darling,” Bellinor said, his voice low and reverberating through her sinews. “And I want you to let go. I’m relieving you of your burdens today.”
Her breath caught in her throat, tears dotting her eyes underneath the silken blindfold. As he combed his fingers through her hair, she sighed deeply, slumping against the chains. She knew what he was talking about, the weight that she had been carrying since she was old enough to understand what had happened to her mother. The weight that was compounded as her father had sunk further into his depression until leaving her for good, no more than a skull rotting away in the woods.
She swallowed hard as Bellinor stepped away, trying to contain the tears, the emotion swelling in her chest.
There was a snap as a tingling bite of pain whipped across her ass, her surprised cry battling with the sounds of the clanking chains. It didn’t feel like a slap from someone’s hand, and she wondered if it was Rul’s tail that had hit her, or a flogger like the one the priestesses used, the spot stinging until another crack rang out, another bolt of thumping pain.
It was just enough to get her adrenaline pumping, making her skin prickle with anticipation. She pressedher cheek to the metal arm of the structure that held her, grounded by the cool sensation as her backside heated. She winced as someone touched her, though this time it was a sensual caress, massaging the skin where she’d been struck and easing some of the pain.
“Don’t think, baby, just trust us. We won’t damage you,” Rul said, her body tensing as she anticipated another strike. “Can you do that?”
“Yes,” she gasped, trying to relax, though it was difficult when she didn’t know what was coming next.
Would it be the sharp smack of someone’s hand, or the tingling pain of a whip-like tail? A sweet touch, or something else? The cut of a knife? The brutal agony of a bite? All the potential ideas swirled in her head, her body coiling with erotic tension.
Pain or pleasure, she accepted both without reservation, the need to dull her senses so strong that she’d do anything to forget. Anything to let them relieve her burden.
“Every inch of you is ours to worship,” Bellinor said, his voice drifting past her like a cool breeze. “Because you deserve it. You deserve to forgive yourself. You deserve to be accepted for who you are.”
He punctuated the statement with a gentle caress of her side and a light whip against her ass in tandem, the dual sensation of pleasure and pain making her whimper. Someone’s mouth was at her neck, sucking and nibbling her skin and sending a zing of arousal straight to her center.
Squirming against the restraints was foolish, but she craved the proof of her helplessness, theknowledge that she couldn’t go anywhere until they released her. This wasn’t her doing, it was theirs, and the Goddess couldn’t fault her for that, no matter how much she wanted it. She pressed her cheek to the cool metal once more, finding comfort as her imagination ran wild.
Someone reached around and squeezed one of her breasts, sending another lightning bolt to her core, kneading gently before pinching her nipple hard. She let out a yelp, sweat beading on her brow as gentle laughter echoed from all around her.
“What do you deserve, my dear?” Bellinor asked, his voice like silk against her ear.
Isabelle tensed, knowing what he wanted to hear but not ready to answer.
“Tell us, sweetheart. Be a good girl,” Rul prodded, and she swallowed hard, her need to please outweighing the negative thoughts bubbling in her head.
“I deserve… to feel good.”
It wasn’t the response they wanted, certainly, but it was the best she could do. They accepted her answer, pressing kisses to her neck and shoulders before resuming their attentions.
With each teasing strike and gentle affection, her mind numbed until she sank into a dreamlike state, her entire body lax against the chains. They weren’t going to harm her, because she deserved to feel good.
