Let Me Watch_A Dark Romance

by Sansa Rayne

  “Yes, sir.”

  Another swing sends fresh jolts of electric fire through my rear; each successive whipping lands on a different spot, leaving it tingling and warm.

  “That still the same?”

  “I think so, yes.” It hurts, but it’s not so bad.

  “Good. Ready for a six?”

  I take a deep breath, then nod. “Yes, sir.”

  Pierce reverts back to drawing the whip against my skin softly, his touch so slight I hardly feel it. Then there’s a sudden snap, and a surge of agony erupts across my already punished flesh. Howling, I writhe and buck in the stockade. I shut my eyes, trying to focus on keeping my composure, so I don’t notice right away that Pierce is holding onto the handle of the vibrator.

  The second I open my eyes, and see him on the monitors, he flips the device’s switch, sending a powerful swirl of pleasure through my body. It dulls the pain significantly, replacing the agony with bliss; I squeeze the toy between my legs even harder, wanting to feel the vibration and get lost in its soothing spell.

  Then I feel another smack on my ass from the whip, a six again, at least. I scream and twist, overwhelmed by the dueling sensations.

  “Don’t come without my permission, pet,” Pierce says, pinching my nipple. “I’m going to give you ten more lashes, which I want you to count, out loud. Then you can orgasm all you want.”

  “Oh god,” I moan, watching myself on the monitors. The vibrator lodged against my pussy may not look like much, but it churns with incredible power. I’m not sure how easy it will be to hold back the extraordinary orgasm building up inside me.

  “One!” I shout, feeling the first slap of leather against my tormented skin. I keep counting them; each time I do, the pain keeps my orgasm at bay a little less than the time before, and soon it feels like a tidal wave poised to crash against the shore with terrifying intensity.

  After I get through five, Pierce reaches down between my legs and shuts off the vibrator.

  “What the fuck?” I shout, squeezing my thighs together in frustration.

  “Tell me about this art project,” Pierce demands. “If I’m going to help you make some kind of statement, I want to know what it is.”

  “You want to know now?” I’m glad he wants to take a real interest in the project, but couldn’t it wait? My ass is throbbing with fresh welts while my pussy drips, desperate to be touched.

  Pierce smirks, fixing my sweaty, matted hair. “We can finish the session later, if you prefer.”

  “No!” I scream. “Please let me come, sir! I was so close!”

  He crouches in front of me, lowering his head so he can kiss my hardened nipples. I moan as his lips grip and suck, and fight the cuffs of the stockade.

  “Talk, pet. I’m listening.”

  God, oh god.

  Fluids are running down my thighs and heat is crawling up my body like a fever.

  “Okay, okay,” I mumble, trying to collect my thoughts. “I want… to remind people that…”

  Pierce releases my nipple, then kisses below my breast. He keeps going, making a trail all the way to my swollen entrance.

  I try to focus, fighting off the hunger and bliss. “To remind them that… everyone is responsible for… for the shitty things that happen… in the world.”

  “Interesting,” he mutters, then drags his tongue against my clit.

  Moaning, I shake my head, trying hard to not lose my train of thought. “I want them to remember… we all need to act… to help others.”

  Pierce rises to his feet and kisses me. Tasting myself on his tongue, I stop struggling against the bondage and get lost in the feeling of his lips on mine.

  “I love it,” he says, at last breaking from the kiss. As soon as he does, my mind goes straight back to the emptiness in my drenched pussy. “It’s very noble.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I reply, blushing more.

  He sets the vibrator back in place between my thighs and thumbs it on. “Don’t forget, no coming until I say so.”

  “Yes, sir,” I say, sniffing as the vibration starts drawing me into a euphoric trance.

  The next four lashes of the whip are harder — eights, probably. Yet, I don’t cry out as loudly as before; the pleasure I’m enjoying crowds out the agony.

  “One last stroke, pet,” Pierce says, massaging my punished ass. “This one’s going to be a ten, then you can come. Okay?”

  “Yes… sir.” The word “ten” causes a fearful surge of adrenaline to rouse me from my state of carnal ecstasy, but I want so badly to come, I don’t mind.

  It feels like a lightning strike when it hits, the sound just like a crack of thunder. Flailing in my bonds, I shriek loudly, then wail. Excruciating torment takes me, and for an instance of time, it’s all I know. Pierce watches until I recover, then hugs me close. I feel his hard chest rising and falling slowly as he rubs my back, soothing me with his light touch. My body shudders as I process the pain, leaving behind relief and pride. Despite the lingering ache and tenderness, I smile.

  I took a ten from Pierce Williams, bitches.

  “You did very well, pet,” he whispers in my ear. “Beautifully.”

  “Thank you… sir,” I say, savoring the compliment. For some reason, it makes me feel impossibly happy. My inner submissive craved the recognition, though I didn’t truly know it until now. As badly as I need release, I’ve already attained a great deal of satisfaction.

  Then Pierce says to me, “Now you can come,” and I rise to even greater heights.

  When the feel of the vibrator pokes through the shroud of agony, I groan happily, fueled by the anticipation of my reward, as well as Pierce’s praise. Then I see him reach for the vibrator; for a second I fear he’s going to steal it away again, but instead he changes it to high power. In an instant, my orgasm ignites, blasting me into subspace. Engulfed in utter rapture, I scream until my lungs are emptied, then inhale and keep screaming. Quivering blissfully, I hug the vibrator, never ever wanting to let it go.

  I wait until Sibel’s utterly spent to shut off the toy between her legs. I lose count of how many times she came, too transfixed by the sight to bother. When she finally comes back down to Earth, I open a bottled water and hold it to her lips, tipping it just enough so she can sip.

  “Thank you, sir.” Even after drinking, her voice is still throaty.

  I kiss her on the forehead again. “You have no idea how impressive you are, Sibel.”

  “Thanks,” she says again, blushing.

  “You took a hard whipping without complaint. You orgasm like you’re possessed. It’s so fucking sexy, you have no idea.”

  Looking at herself on the monitors, she smirks. “I have some idea.”

  I laugh, tweaking her nipple. “And then there’s your art. Tell me, how do you plan to convey your message?”

  Sighing, she admits, “I don’t know yet. I’m still figuring it out.”

  “Is it going to be in public, like the last one?”

  She takes a moment to think. “Probably. That’s how to reach the most people, isn’t it?”

  I shrug. “You’d know better than me. But, what if it gets you arrested?” I ask, running a finger across a pair of handcuffs among the table of sex toys.

  “It’s happened before,” she says. “I’m not going to let it stop me.”

  I walk back to her and look at her closely. Her body still quakes from the afterglow, and my cock hardens at how exposed and helpless she is before me.

  “I’m impressed by your conviction,” I say at last. “But do you really think you’d be willing to go to prison for your art?”

  “Definitely.”

  I nod, then reach over to the table and pick out a thick, black panel gag. On one side of the panel is a black, rubber bulb, which I insert into her mouth before she can react. I reach around her head and connect the straps, then pull them tight, forcing the panel up against her cheeks.

  “Okay, Sibel. I’ll tell you the truth: I don’t want you to end u
p in jail, because then I won’t get to see you. So consider this a test: I’m leaving. I’ve got some work to do. You stay here and see how long you can really handle being confined.”

  From the glare in her eyes, she clearly wants to scream and fight her way out of the stockade, but she doesn’t — she keeps her cool and nods.

  “All right, pet. See you later,” I say, turning to leave. I expect her to shout through her gag at me as I go, but she doesn’t.

  —

  The warehouse’s former security office is barely the size of a walk-in closet, and it’s been left largely unchanged since it was first built, other than sweeping up the dust. On a tiny, wooden desk sits a small television, a black cube from the early nineties that’s a relic now. Yet, in the warehouse, it’s the only other place where one can watch the security camera feeds. The first time Sibel came here, I told her there were no external links for the cameras, and I meant it.

  For now, I flip through the channels, enjoying the different angles. Sibel occasionally fights against her bonds or tries to spit out her gag, but generally waits patiently, trying to prove she can. In fact, it’s hard to tell with most of her face covered, but she’s smiling a little — I see it in the eyes, and the gentle lift of her brows. Her attention moves from one monitor to the next, and she’s clearly enjoying the sight. Her inner thighs shine in the light, slick with her juices.

  I give her five minutes before the signs of desperation set in. She may not want to be let free, but she will start to feel lonely. After that, I’ll wait for another ten, then go get her. Despite what I said, I have no intention of leaving her alone for hours on end; my cock is so hard it could break down a door. I may tease her a bit first, just to drive her a little crazy, then fuck her so hard her screams will be heard from Coney Island.

  I grin with malice and lust; the more I watch her, the less I want to let her out. I don’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t responded to my call earlier. Tied up, locked away in a dungeon of my creation, she is my dream brought to life. It’s obvious why Chase is so hung up on her; I see it now too. Only, it’s so much hotter knowing this performance of hers is mine alone to witness. I don’t have to share it with anyone but her. Is that how she feels right now? Does she assume I’m watching her, or think that she’s truly been left alone?

  What if she’s telling herself that I’m watching, simply because for her that’s the hotter fantasy? She clearly likes having an audience, but does its composition matter? Is one man as good as one hundred? Or is she performing for just one woman and no one else?

  I’ll have to ask.

  Fixated on the tiny screen, I nearly jump out of my seat when my phone rings. It’s Chase.

  “Hey, what is it?” I ask.

  “I’m outside. Open up!”

  What the fuck’s he doing here?

  “Yeah, what’s going on?” I ask after I open the door.

  He’s dressed in a shiny silver suit with a purple necktie; his scalp shines in the moonlight, and he smells of bourbon and cigarettes. He looks a lot younger, virile and aggressive — it reminds me of how he looked and acted at the height of our pimping days.

  He thinks he’s here to impress someone.

  “You have her here,” he states, forcing his way in.

  Fuck.

  “That’s right.”

  “Awesome. Let’s go, I want see this,” he asks.

  “Out of the fucking question.” I fold my arms together and move into his path. “If Sibel finds out you’re here, she will flip the fuck out.”

  “Just blindfold her. I’ll be quiet.”

  I pull out the collar of his white button-down shirt, noticing a smudge of pink lipstick. “You been out clubbing?”

  He nods, stroking his chin. “Oh yeah. Cut myself off a little slice too.”

  Goddamnit.

  “Really? You don’t get enough action at work?”

  Chase shakes his head, grinning savagely. “Not lately, no. Ever since Sibel, I’ve been hard every fifteen freaking minutes. Like, tonight: I got this chick into the club bathroom with me, and for a minute I couldn’t get it up. So I imagined it Sibel there on her knees, and hello! So then I-”

  “Enough!” I bark. “I get the fucking picture. You shouldn’t have fucking done that.”

  He snorts, then peers over my shoulder as the distant sound of Sibel’s groaning carries through the building. I don’t mean to, but I glance down at Chase’s pants — sure enough, he’s already at half mast.

  “What if you had gotten arrested?” I ask, trying to reason with him.

  Chase waves off the idea. “That chick was just a slut. Didn’t charge.”

  “Public lewdness?”

  This time he flat-out laughs. “At Club Primal? Please.”

  Nodding, I play my last card: “What if you’d lost control?”

  The question sobers Chase — his mirth fades, and his guard drops. “I didn’t. It was fine.”

  That’s a relief, at least.

  “Go home,” I say. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

  “Fine,” he sighs, getting out his phone to call a ride. “But you better be giving it to her fucking hard. Make it so she needs you, and she’ll do whatever you want.”

  It bothers me to admit how much I’d like to do exactly that.

  “I’m still working on it.”

  “You got her tied up somewhere, yeah? You think she’d let you do that to her if she didn’t trust you?”

  No, probably not.

  He’s right, at least partially.

  “She trusts me, but only to a degree. It’s not like I can just hand her over to you and she’ll be cool with it.”

  Nodding, Chase gets up and paces around the hall. I really wish our shoot with Yasmin had settled him down. I can lie and tell Chase that I’m just working Sibel to make her ready for Chase to have a turn, but all I’m doing is buying time. Sooner or later, I’m going to have to give either Chase or Sibel news they’re not going to want to hear. I’d rather put that off as long as possible.

  “You know what she told me just now?”

  Chase stops his pacing. “What?”

  “She wants me to help her with an art project.”

  He grins. “No shit?”

  “In public,” I add. “Whatever it is, we’re going to have special access.”

  “Cool.” Chase nods, but his enthusiasm dies quickly. “It’s a start, I guess. You have to tell her about me soon.”

  Don’t I know it.

  “Yeah, I will. I promise I will soon.”

  Chase’s phone vibrates, signaling his ride is nearly here. “Alright. I’ll see you later.”

  I watch Chase from the warehouse entrance until he gets picked up, then lock the door behind me. Part of me wonders why he didn’t ask directly if I’m falling for Sibel too; maybe he didn’t want the answer.

  Back inside the building, I check my watch and see it’s been twenty-five minutes since I left Sibel, which is more time than I intended. Cursing, I break into a power walk, wanting to move quickly but not make a lot of noise — I don’t want her to hear me coming.

  When I get there, she’s not freaking out, but she’s definitely not at peace. Her hips shake and bounce with evident need, and she grunts softly as she pulls against her restraints.

  “You look a little hot and bothered, Ms. Isaacs.”

  Startled, she turns to me; blushing, she nods.

  “Can’t you make yourself come whenever you like?”

  Growing even redder, she nods again.

  “Yet, you didn’t.”

  She looks at me imploringly, so I approach and remove her gag. She gasps as it comes out of her mouth, a line of saliva clinging between it and her lip. “You didn’t give me permission,” she says, looking down at the floor. “And… I enjoyed… waiting for you.”

  Un-fucking-believable.

  “Very good, pet,” I say, unzipping and dropping my pants. “You behaved perfectly.”

&nb
sp; Reaching around Sibel’s body, I take her breasts into my hands and massage them; her nipples harden, so I roll them beneath my fingers, making her moan. I press against her, letting her feel my iron, and kiss the back of her neck. Then I reach down and work the buckles on the belts binding her at the knees; once they’re loose, I spread her thighs, exposing her drenched pussy.

  I yank down my black briefs as fast as I can. “Name your reward, Sibel.”

  “Make me come, sir,” she says.

  Her legs are trembling, so I reach between them and hook my finger between her hot folds.

  “I think that can be arranged,” I whisper, working her tight walls until I make her twitch with bliss.

  “Oh, God,” she whines, letting her head fall back against my shoulder.

  From my pants, I grab a condom and quickly roll it on; then I hold my cock up to her pussy and guide it in. We groan together as it slides in easily, coated in her abundant cream.

  Thrusting with a steady rhythm, I reach for her chest and pinch her nipples. She gasps from the mild pain, but her pussy clenches hard against my throbbing cock.

  “A little bit of pain goes a long way with you,” I say.

  “Yes… sir,” she replies, working her hips against mine as I pound.

  I let one of her breasts go and reach down to spank her bobbing ass. The smack rings out through the empty warehouse, echoing back to us. Sibel grunts, thriving on the sharp sting, so I give her a few more. Each one sends a pulse through her body that I can feel through her inner walls. Her grip on me is so tight, I could come already, but I hold off.

  I asked Sibel to come here tonight so that I could make her mine, and I can only think of one way to do that: by fucking her goddamn brains out like she’s never experienced in her life. For what feels like an hour I hammer her, our bodies glistening with sweat. Sibel howls with every thrust. Sometimes she closes her eyes, overwhelmed by everything, but then they shoot open, and she remembers to check the monitors so she can see herself. A few times I chuckle when I catch her staring at us on the screens, but she doesn’t care. Once I realize this, I wait until she’s watching to swat her ass, just so she can see her expression change. Still, she doesn’t mind.