Page 40 of Writhe
The air is cool against my damp skin, and my body betrays me instantly, breaking out in goosebumps. Oh, perfect. Like I need to look any more pathetic. The towel I had been wrapped in last night is gone. Wasn’t that nice? A little post-torture hospitality. Five-star service, really.
“I am so sorry he did that to you. No one will ever touch you like that again, pup.”
The Doctor’s voice is warm velvet, each syllable wrapping around me with practiced care.Manipulation. It unfurls inside me like a sickness, curling around my ribs, whispering things my traitorous body wants to believe. He could make poison taste like honey, and I’d drink it just to see if he were lying.
I swallow hard, my pulse skittering. There’s movement. A shift in the air. Someone else steps closer, radiating heat—solid and familiar.
Theo.
I know it’s him before he even opens his mouth. He’s a furnace, always burning, always pressing. His presence is like a shadow creeping over my skin, electric and restless. He smells like sweat and sin.
“She just came back to us. Are you sure we should be going so hard today?” His voice slithers over my nerves, poking at something deep and feral. A shudder wracks through me, unbidden.
The Doctor hums, his touch ghosting over my ribs. I jerk instinctively, but there’s nowhere to go. The restraints hold, the blindfold stays in place, and my options remain exactly where they always are: nonexistent.
“She needs to learn that pleasure comes through submission. I think you can help with that, can’t you, Theo?”
Pleasure. Submission. Right. And next, they’ll tell me pain is just a friendly hug from the void.
Theo makes a sound low in his throat, something wicked. His hands follow the Doctor’s, skimming over my hips, squeezing, his touch firmer, hungrier. He’s not playing around, and neither is the Doctor.
“I’ll make her beg for it.”
Oh, fantastic. My own personal hell, now, with double the tormentors. I should be scared. I should be furious. Instead, my lips part, and the only thing I can think of isgame on.Fingers trail down the center of my chest before brushing against my stomach. I flinch.
“Your body knows us now. No need to fight,” The Doctor says.
I huff a breath, tilting my head even though I can’t see him. “That so? My body must be giving some very mixed signals, then.”
Theo’s hand grips my thigh, spreading me wider. His amusement is unmistakable. “She’s still tense,” Theo notes, like I’m some experiment on a lab table.
“Well, maybe it’s the whole ‘restrained and blindfolded’ thing. Not exactly a spa day, boys.”
“Then we’ll have to help her,” the Doctor murmurs.
My breath catches, betraying me. Heat licks up my spine, shamefully. My mind knows I should resist, that I should hate this, but my body—my traitorous body—leans into their touch.
The Doctor’s thumb skims my lips, tracing them slowly before pressing between them.
“Open.”
I hesitate, because, really? I might be tied up and blindfolded, but I do still have teeth. The Doctor doesn’t push. He simply waits, his thumb resting right there, his other hand smoothing up the inside of my thigh. I grit my teeth, pulse hammering. This is a game. A test. And I hate that I want to see what happens if I fail. My lip’s part, instinct winning over logic, and the Doctor slides his thumb into my mouth.
“Good girl.”
Theo exhales sharply, and I know he’s watching me. Watching the way, I take the Doctor’s thumb between my lips. Watching the way I don’t pull away.
“Fuck,” Theo mutters. “She’s going to look so fucking pretty with your cock in her mouth.”
A sharp pang of humiliation burns through me, but it’s drowned beneath something dangerously addictive. The Doctor finally pulls his thumb from my mouth, wiping the dampness across my collarbone like he’s marking me. “I think it’s time we begin, don’t you?”
I lick my lips, flexing my fingers against the cuffs. “Oh, by all means. Don’t let me stop you.”
Theo grins. I feel it, even without seeing it.
“Oh, I’ve been ready, Doc.”
And with that, they begin to break me.
