Page 99 of Lost to the Woods

But he’s just starting.

He grabs something else from the table, and before I can get a peek, he kneels, fastening binds over my ankles.

I whimper, struggling, but my legs are yanked apart as the spreader bar locks into place with a metallic clink, keeping me open. Vulnerable. Just the way he likes it.

Then he rises to his full height and tugs the other end of the chain that’s suspending me from the ceiling.

The ground disappears beneath me until my face is level with his. My body dangles uselessly, weightless in the lacework of knots, like a fly caught in a spider's web.

Tears spill over my cheeks, but my screams are nothing now. Just muffled, pathetic little noises behind the gag, swallowed by the thick wooden walls of the cabin.

He strokes my hair almost lovingly. “Shhh. No use wasting your breath.”

I shake my head desperately, pleading with my eyes, but he only watches me. Drinking in my helplessness. Savoring it.His cock bobs, drop of precum traveling down his shaft between the barbells of his Jacob’s ladder.

He’s so hot, I just want to shout.

He curses under his breath as he moves, but not towards the table. I follow him with the corner of my eye, and just then, I notice there’s a camera on the stand in the corner. He brings it closer, setting it in front of me before the red light flicks on. I don’t know why he records it. Maybe so he can have a torture porn to jerk off to after he kills me. Or maybe it’s just to piss me off more.

Joke’s on him because I can’t feel any more humiliated or mortified than I already am.

“Now,” he says, voice velvety smooth, as he approaches me again, “let’s teach you how to behave.”

The next thing I hear is a soft rustle of leather. And the first strike lands with a swishing sound as it cuts the air, ending in a sharp bite of pain across my stomach.

I jolt, my head falling forward, and I cry behind the gag.

The flogger snaps against my skin again, this time lashing across my breasts. A shock of heat blooms where it lands, a sting that fades into something warmer, sending a ripple of electric sensation far more dangerous through me.

Why is my body reacting this way?

He keeps going. My thighs. My hips. The curve of my ass.

I whimper, my skin heating, burning, pulsing, but my traitorous flesh shivers. Heat coils low in my belly, tighter and tighter with each punishing strike.

I’menjoyingthis.

He tsks, dragging the flogger between my legs, teasing me with the soft leather before the next impact—this one right where I’m most sensitive. A ragged, broken moan rips from my throat as I beg him to stop.

To my surprise, he steps away. I almost thank him before I hear the distinct crack of something firmer cutting through the air. My breath stutters.

I look up to see the long riding crop in his hand, and my body immediately tenses, bracing.

The first hit lands right between my legs, driving the rope into my throbbing clit. I jerk violently, screaming into the gag, but the pain is a lightning bolt straight to my core, sharp and electric, melting into something unbearable.

Another strike. Harder. The pain blends with something else, something humiliatinglygood.

“Such a perfect little plaything. Taking your punishment so well for Daddy,” he murmurs, circling me just to get the full picture. I hear his hand working over his cock, sticky wet with his precum, and I crave the taste.

God, why am I like this?

The third strike lands out of nowhere.

At the exact same moment, Ghost yanks the chain, releasing the nipple clamps in one brutal snap.

The pain is a shockwave. Intense and burning, like a flash of fire surging through my body, as blood rushes back to my aching nipples.

And then, the last strike of the crop slaps against my clit.

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