Page 34 of He Who Sleeps

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He laced the second ribbon up more slowly, interweaving it with the first one in delicate motions that still pulled at the needles piercing her skin. But eventually it was done and he sat back, a sigh of wonder rippling the air across her shoulder blades. "Fucking stunning," he breathed. "This might be my best work."

"I don't disagree, brother." Plague's modulated voice sounded awed as he leaned over Stitches' shoulder to take photographs. "The alignment is perfect." Plague snapped several more photos and then stepped back. "You want me to stick around and take pics of the fucking, or is this a private party?"

"Stick around," Stitches replied. "This moment needs to be recorded for posterity."

His words made her clench and shiver, the tightness of her back sending shockwaves through her being, a pulsing and thrumming, one that had her so needy she was moments from begging him to take her.

"I'm going to warn you now that you really don't want to move," Stitches told her. "If you pull any of these out, it's going to be a fucking mess and you'll probably scar for life. So you're going to sit there like a good girl and just fucking take it, okay?"

He pressed a lever near the floor that raised the seat up from the ground and then when it was the right height, he bodily lifted her and shifted her ass backwards so that it was hanging over the edge of the chair, exposing her pussy to the cool air.

She bit her lip, moaning already. “Please, Leo...”

He smacked her ass, hard, and the resulting jump made her whole back spasm in a flash of exquisite agony. "In here, I'm Stitches," he corrected her.

With a gasp, she nodded. “Stitches...oh fuck... It burns...”

"Good." She heard the sound of his zipper and then the head of his cock was nudging at her entrance and he was filling her, carefully and slowly.

“Stitches....” She moaned and closed her eyes, going completely limp for him. Finally, finally he was inside her and she was so fucking ready, one stroke from him and she would be coming, soaking him. “So good...”

"That's it, that's my little pain slut," he crooned in her ear. "All spiked and strung up and still writhing on my cock like you were fucking made for it."

“You doubt I was?” she moaned, squeezing him with her inner muscles as she panted.

"Oh, I know you were made for me," he told her. "You were born for us to break you."

She cried out then, the orgasm rushing through her as he gripped her hips, stars blooming in her vision.

"Okay, stay still," he ground out, picking up the pace and slamming into her, the piercings on his cock rippling in and out of her as he held her hips down tight to the chair.

“That’s like telling the world not to turn.” She gritted her teeth and tried so very hard to do as he asked. “Fuck... Stitches...”

"That's exactly what I'm doing, my greedy little Petra, but I've got to be careful not to tear that pretty flesh of yours."

“Please, please, please...” she begged. “I’m so fucking close. Your piercings... Please...” she begged, delirious with both pleasure and the swirling pain and heat from the needles.

"You gonna come for me again?" he teased.

“Fuck...so hard...” She moaned and her body let go, the orgasm thundering through her as she as screamed his name into the night.

She squeezed down hard and he groaned in her ear. "Fuck...so fucking tight," he choked out and then he was coming inside her, his full weight bearing down on her hips as he filled her to the brim with hot jets of his seed.

Bliss ran through her for the fourth or fifth time that night and she smiled to herself, knowing Plague had captured it for all of them. “Fuck... Stitches... Amazing.”

"Like that was ever going to be in doubt," he laughed, pulling out. "Just rest there for a minute or two. Let me clean up and then I'll get those needles right out." He disappeared, leaving her alone with Plague for a few minutes, the evidence of their lovemaking dripping out onto the floor.

She looked up to Plague, seeing him watching her, and smiled. “I hope you got good ones,” she murmured and closed her eyes, bliss setting in hardcore.

"You know I did," he told her. "The models made it pretty fucking easy." He grinned behind his mask and then his tone sobered. "Since we have a minute, you need to know something. I know you've been pulling masks from the other guys, but you're not going to do that with me, because I'll show you my face when I'm ready to show you my face, and not before. And if you so much as try it, we're done, okay? You've already given enough energy to light up the whole North American continent, so I don't need your orgasms. I can walk away. You hear me?"

She nodded. “It’s your choice, Plague. I won’t try. Promise.”

"Good girl. Well, I guess I'll go switch out this film, so I have plenty left for later," he said as Stitches came back in. "I'll leave you guys to it."

"Thanks, brother." Stitches clapped him on the back and closed the door behind him. "Damn, girl, you made a mess on the floor. I'm of half a mind to get you down there to lick it up. But I don't know when it was last cleaned, so I guess today is your lucky day."

She laughed. “Floors are a limit for me,” she said softly. “But you are a god, Stitch.”