Page 47 of Where Sinners Repent

Lifting the long, pointed needle gives me the reaction I expected. She sounds so sweet when she’s scared. The perfect raspiness mixed with sheer panic. Unable to resist, I watch her over my shoulder.

Now, she’s fighting her restraints. Fighting with everything she has. It’s useless. Those chains have held grown men while I’ve stripped the skin from their bodies, piece by piece.

I find the clamp while watching her. No tools or weapons on earth strip a person’s sanity more than anticipation. I’ve had criminals beg me to do what I’m about to do, unable to stand the waiting.

I’m a patient man. I’ve had to be a patient man. But something about the way she fights, like she has a chance of escaping this, has me impatient. Dick straining against my fly, I push back into her space, watching the tears begin to stream down her face. Saliva drips down the corners of her mouth; her jaw stretched too wide to allow her to swallow.

“I’m not going to lie,” I murmur, eyes boring into hers. “This is going to hurt, Black Cat.”

If I had to guess what the muffled words were saying, they’d be sweet pleas that I’d ignore.

Would she stop fighting if she knew how much my brother loved piercings?

The instant my hand grips her breast, every part of her body locks tight as a violent shiver ripples through her. I swear I can almost hear her pulse hammering away in her neck.

The clamp latches onto the stiff nipple, and she jerks violently. Her next cry cuts off into a moan as her entire body locks up again. Orgasm number two. Soon, it’ll be nearly impossible to count them. They’ll merge into a beautifully painful constant feeling that will drive the girl mad.

Utilising her state of pleasure, I shove the needle through her flesh.

Her scream sends a shiver down my spine.

With deft fingers, I have the silver piece of jewellery in her nipple, securing the ball and removing the needle in a matter of seconds. Her chest heaves wildly, her head falling forward on pained moans.

I can’t help but brush my thumb over the now pierced nipple. It makes her jolt with pain.

The simple silver barbell suits her too well.

With a knuckle under her chin, I force her gaze back on me. Tears are a constant stream down her face. Yet, when she locks her eyes on me, her body goes rigid before it betrays her with the smallest involuntary tremor.

I pause, searching her lidded eyes, my grip remaining on her chin.

I know pain. I know terror. I know the thousand different ways people break.

I don’t know what that was.

She looks almost as horrified by it as I am.

Tears don’t stop, continuing to carve silent tracks down her cheeks while her stare burns into mine.

It’s okay. She will break. It’s the only certainty of this place.

I secure the clamp on her other nipple, the fire in her eyes flickering beneath a wave of panic.

There you are.

Her body jerks and twists, trying and failing to dislodge to metal device. Her breathing is losing its rhythm. The sweet colour of her eyes is swallowed by her pupils, wide eyes flicking from me to the needle in my hand and back to me.

I catalogue each reaction. Fear always leaves evidence.

A human body does funny things to prepare for pain. To prepare to survive.

For Roxanne, however, it’s all clouded by the vibrations rocking through her. Every sensation warring for first place in her mind.

The pain. The fear. The pleasure.

This time, when I pierce her skin, her scream echoes perfectly in the old building. Bouncing off the tin walls. My cock begins to stir at the sound.

Despite her jerking, I manage to get the second piercing secured. Stepping back to admire my work.