Finally, when the pain was so great she had no choice, she relaxed her muscles and emptied her bladder. She felt the heat leaving her body. Heard the liquid hitting the ground beneath her while he watched, but she could only close her eyes and breathe through the shame of it.
“There we go,” he said. “Your body belongs to me when it’s in my ropes. Not you.”
She was relieved when he moved her so she wouldn’t have to smell the scent of her humiliation, but the gratitude soon faded because the next pose pulled her shoulders back all over again. She couldn’t stand, couldn’t sit. She completely forgot her shame from earlier and could only focus on surviving.
She tried to judge the time by the moon, and she figured she was about an hour in on this pose when he must’ve decided her legs were too free, because he added chains that held them apart. She had to hold herself up to take the weight off her shoulders, and all she could do for relief was go upon her toes and then down off them. Eventually, she couldn’t hold herself up, and she hung from her arms.
And all the while, he was focusing on a body part — and he could get toeverythingfrom this pose.
Above her, the open sky stretched forever — stars sharp and bright, the moon crossing the sky like an old friend. She could feel the cool night air on her exposed cunt, on her aching nipples, on the sweat that kept trickling down her ribs. She was completely exposed to the night, to him, while the ropes held her exactly where he wanted her, making her fight gravity whether she wanted to or not.
And then he came at her with more food, but she wasn’t hungry. Couldn’t possibly eat in this pose — until she recognized the smell of the French onion soup, in a cup so he could tilt it up to her mouth. Also, his tone of voice let her know bad things would happen if she didn’t drink it down.
The soup kickstarted her hunger, and he fed her pieces of steak from his fingers, telling her what a good girl she was with every swallowed bite.
He’d fucked her between positions. Leaned her over the back of his Adirondack chair and gone to town on both her ass and pussy. He’d finished in her pussy the first time, her ass the second. He also fucked her mouth multiple times while she was in various poses. Especially the last one outside.
She’d agreed to twenty-four hours, and he used every minute of it, so far — she figured maybe twenty hours in. He’d napped some, sitting up in the Adirondack chair, butnever longer than an hour or two. And no way could she sleep in the third pose.
Throughout the day and night, between torturing specific body parts, he’d used a variety of loopy johnnys on her while they were outside. She figured it out — they didn’t make a loud sound. He didn’t have close neighbors, but floggers, whips, and belts have specific noises. A loopy is mostly quiet when it lands.
And who had so many? The smallest looked like it was made of old phone wire. Another she was certain was made from network cabling.
The worst was as big around as his thumb, the loop as big as a plate. Another smaller one was made of the samedamned stuff.
She had teardrop-shaped bruises and welts all over her body. Some from the day before just after they’d started, some from ten minutes earlier, and many, many hundreds from the time between.
While she hung from her wrists with her shoulders backward and her bent thighs on fire, he continued to force her to drink water with electrolytes. She’d tried to shake her head, but he insisted, and she wasn’t in a position to refuse.
She’d had to pee for a while, and eventually, she had no choice but to do so again.
There was no “Good girl,” this time, though. He was damned gruff when he told her, “If you’d have done that an hour ago, your legs and shoulders wouldn’t be hurting so bad. Stubborn-headed little painslut.”
She thought they were finished when he finally released her, but he tossed her over his shoulder, carried her inside, and hung her from her wrists under his pulleys.
Now, he didn’t have to worry about sound, so as soon as she was in place he picked up his cruelest horsewhip and told her, “Feel free to scream now. No words, but scream all you want, my beautiful little painslut.”
The first lash landed across her shoulders with a vicious crack, and the force sent her swinging, and there was no way to stop the momentum. The second strike came from the other direction and wrapped around her ribs with a fiery sting that made her cry out.
The whip flew again and again, every impact adding to her striped body and making her swing helplessly in the air, twisting, turning, offering new angles of unprotected skin. More than half the strikes wrapped — the braided leather curling around her hips, her ribs, the soft underside of her arm, the tender skin just below her ass. Each wrap felt like liquid fire dragging across her flesh.
She swung wildly, completely out of control, unable to brace, unable to dodge the never-ending lashes until her entire body felt like one continuous blaze of pain.
She lost track of time. She lost track of everything except the swing of her body and the next inevitable strike. He whipped her until his arm had to be exhausted, and still he continued. The only sounds in the room were the crack of the whip, her broken screams, the creak of the ropes as she swung, and the labored breath of two werewolves in human form.
When he finally cut her down and carried her toward his bed, he told her, “Just a little more. Not quite done with you yet, but we’re getting there.”
And with that, he put her in the pillory at the foot of his bed, her feet on the floor, bent at the waist, neck and wrists trapped.
She heard him lubing his cock and knew what came next, but she wasn’t prepared for how badly it was going to hurt on her raw asshole. It was in even rougher shape now than it’d been after he finished with it in Atlanta, and he shoved in without mercy — raw, violent thrusts that slammed into her over and over, his hips impacting with her bruised flesh, his cock stretching her sore, abused hole wide with every savage stroke. She cried out with each thrust, the pillory holding her steady while her body jolted forward, the wood creaking under the force.
It hurt. It burned. But this was about his pleasure, and he fucked her ass like a damned caveman.
And he demanded she orgasm. Told her he could go forever, and he would if she couldn’t give him yet another orgasm, when he’d pulled hundreds from her since he’d bound her into that first brutal position shortly after ten in the morning, before he’d taken her outside.
But his threatening, demanding voice did something to her that his cock wasn’t. She’d thought there was nothing left. Her body was raw, every nerve screaming, and another release shouldn’t even be possible.
But his command bypassed everything, the submissive parts of her responding to this male her wolfwantedto roll over for, and the human agreed.
