28
SIGVID
November 7th, Year 100, 9th Era
Blackwood Inn, Salt Province
Sigvid tosses his belt on the bed with a satisfied upturn of his lips. He nurses a raging hard-on from watching her squirm against the rope.
Those little wrists fighting against the restraint are everything he has ever wanted to see. Her bright orbs begging him to end the torment on her most sensitive parts only serve to stir his loins to take her earlier than he planned.
But he has more in store.
“How many strikes is that, Avina?”
A sinister splash of black and blue bruises blanket her backside.
Look at those gorgeous marks of ownership. I am just getting started. You will think twice before questioning me.
Sobs and incoherent muttering are her breathy reply. She is congested with tears, having sustained far more than he thought her capable.
“Three hundred and fifteen, Avina.”
To think I only expected her to take one hundred lashes.
His cock strains against his pants from the power her whimpers have over his impulse. He groans heavily, imagining sliding between her warm cheeks and taking her ass. His dominance over her builds in him a power stronger than controlling all his Drengr and the Salt Army combined.
“Good girl,” he reaches between her legs, feeling her wetness and arousing a needy moan. “I believe you enjoy the leather on your skin.” His fingers tangle in her damp hair.
Tilting her head back, he looks down into her hazy blues, roving around the room. “Do you want more?”
“Y-yes.” She mutters.
“Fucking beg for it, whore.”
“Please, hurt me, Sigvid!”
He removes a second belt from his dresser and wraps the leather around the delicate column of her neck until her breath hitches. While stealing the very air she breathes, his dominant hand resumes the assault on her behind. The sound of his hand spanking her backside and her garbling gasps as she loses her air supply is the only music he could ever desire.
When he releases the belt around her neck, she sputters, and her chest heaves the life he held just out of her grasp.
“That is my good girl.” His praise earns him a faint smile. “Who is your master?” He growls into her ear.
He continues choking her, ever careful to watch her expression.
Unable to stave off the yearning anymore, he plunges two fingers inside her pussy, abandoning the onslaught of her gorgeous, bruising cheeks. He cinches the other belt around her neck as he thrusts his fingers so roughly her eyes roll back into her head.
“I asked, who is your master?”
Abandon yourself to me, Timber Queen! Tell me who fucking owns your godsdamn holes!
“You are! Sigvid!” Her strained groans draw out a primal urge to ravage her.
“Fuck!” He growls low in her ear while he removes his fingers and withdrawals his member, rubbing it between the softness of her legs.
“Please!” She begs, her voice strangled through the belt he left constricted around her neck.
He discards the leather, leaving her gasping.
