And that new knowledge comes at a humiliating price.
My pride crumbles to the floor as I writhe and moan under the shadows’ persistent rubbing at thisotherbundle of nerves.
They’re no longer touching my front, but my clit still throbs as bolts of pleasure shoot down my legs.
And just like that, I’m right back where I was before he stopped.
I’m going to… I’m going to?—
But again, the shadows recede, and I’m set on the floor.
The king chuckles darkly. “We’ll have to leave that area alone. Apparently, you’re especially sensitive there.”
I say nothing. Just stare at the time glass as more blood-red sand drops to its floor.
My body cools. My heart rate slows.
Then the shadows pull me back into the air and slide into my sex, working their original magic until I’m once again on the brink of?—
Moist!
They pull out and set me back down on the floor. Let me rest. Let me calm.
Then they return me to the air for more of their sensual torture…
…before setting me down again.
I soon realize why they’re keeping my hands bound and pressed into my chest… why the shadows return to vine around my ankles and put me in another spread-eagle when I writhe too much.
So that I can’t touch myself—can’t get enough friction going around my swollen, aching nodule to end their torture.
He was right.
I’m in pain. Not from my arms—I can’t even feel those anymore.
But from thewhiplash.The cruel withdrawal of pleasure, over and over, each time right before release.
I lose track of how many cycles of this he puts me through.
The time it takes me torev upgets shorter and shorter. And the time it takes me tocalm downgets longer and longer.
Mostly, I stand there slumped over like a rag doll between rounds. Limp and ruined.
But during one bleary moment of recovery, I manage to glance at the glass again.
It’s only halfway done.
And the shadows are back.
Will your shadows do anything I can’t recover from?
Physically? No. Mentally? Well, I can never be sure how easily your kind will break.
Now I understand what he meant.
My mind shatters. The last of my pride falls to the stone like a flower’s final petal.
Did I say I wouldn’t cry?
