Chapter 23
Elina
I cling to Ulf with my eyes when he swishes the whip through the air. It’s even longer than the one I saw used at the farm, and I tense all muscles as the leather comes for me, crossing at least five feet of distance.
“Mine,” he growls just as the leather strikes my thigh, his resonant voice easily reaching over the drums.
My throat constricts, ready to release a scream, but the pain is not as severe as I expected. It burns, but I can take it—I’ve had much worse.
Gripping the ropes, I drop my weight, letting the tree hold me up for a staggering moment of relief.
Ulf steps close, wrapping an arm around my waist and brushing his lips over my temple in a tender kiss. “You’re doing so well, my little deer. But there’s more pain to come. I need you to hold it together a little while longer. Can you do that for me—to be mine?”
Of course, I want to say, but there’s nothing straightforward about the effort it takes to straighten and let my weary legs carry my weight. I lean into Ulf, soaking up his warmth and his strength before releasing my answer into the night. “Yes.”
His hum vibrates against my ear. “Such a good girl. I can’t believe you’re finally becoming mine.”
A strange look has settled in his eyes when he backs away. Awe, wonder, disbelief. Infatuation. It makes me fall harder, giving up all I am and bestowing all my trust in him. A man I don’t know yet feels achingly familiar. A man who I know, deep down in my heart, that I belong with.
His chest lifts with a long inhale as he flicks the whip out. He steps his right foot back, takes aim, and sends the long strand of leather through the air.
Time suspends for a breathless second as I feel the whip hissing through the air, coming for me. The drums beat, the fire flares, and all I see is Ulf.
The leather licks my other thigh. Harder this time. I cry out, gripping the ropes tighter.
“Mine,” Ulf demands when my eyes are about to fall shut.
“Yours,” I whisper on a pained whimper.
Without pause, he flicks again. “Mine,” he growls just as the leather strikes.
“Yours,” I repeat, this time on a shriek.
“Mine to protect”—crack—“guide”—crack—“and take care of.” Crack.
I cry out with each burning strike of the whip. I’m already panting and struggling, but his words lend me strength—to fight the exhaustion and find my will.
“Yours,” is all I can say, over and over while he keeps whipping me, harder and harder, sending bursts of agonizing pain into my flesh and drawing harrowing screams from my throat that reach far beyond the drums and deep into the forest.
I lean into the ropes—into the tree—finding strength in its ancient power.
Finding calm in the forest around me. The drums become a second heartbeat that helps hold me up; if they stopped, I’d surely collapse with them.
I barely register the people, yet their vibrant energy as they play and sing seems to wrap around me in a protective veneer, holding me up and lending me strength.
But the biggest solace is Ulf. His unwavering gaze, his magnetic claim, and his magnificent stature as he moves with prowess and wields the whip with natural grace and striking precision.
At some point, I release my full weight into the ropes, just hanging on by my fierce grip. I sway along to the insistent rhythm that builds with each sharpening strike of the whip.
Suddenly, the music breaks into a climax, and the effect is so stark that tears well in my eyes. I don’t want them to spill—not in front of all these people. Not when I’ve conquered fear and exhaustion for so long. So I shut my eyes, forcing the tears to remain inside.
The whipping stops, and I release a shuddery sigh of relief, thinking Ulf sees that I’ve had enough.
I feel him come close even before he presses his warm hand to my cheek.
“Give them to me.” Ulf’s words are not coaxing. They’re a deep, demanding snarl that breaks through my defenses with the force of a mountain river in spring.
“No,” I gasp, but like the flood, there’s no stopping the tears.
They break free, harrowing and exhausting.
Freeing and cathartic. I no longer feel like my own.
And it’s the biggest freedom I’ve ever felt.
Because I’m part of something bigger. The group, the forest, this mighty man that holds my fragile, frazzled being in his very hands.
A finger stroking through my pussy lips makes me startle. With a yelp, I snap my eyes open and see that Ulf is stark naked. He has lost his pants and the fur; only the tall crown, reaching high above to proclaim his superiority, remains.
Wasting no time, he grabs his very hard, very long cock and moves it to my opening.
Wrapping the other arm around my waist, he holds me in position as he pushes inside.
He doesn’t even need to prod. I’m so wet that I’m dripping, having prepared the way for him to claim me in this most carnal way without pause.
“Ah,” I cry as he sinks in to the hilt, spearing me on his long shaft, jostling the butt plug and sending jolts of sensation through my entire lower body. It hurts, being so utterly full—so deep—but it’s the sweetest sort of pain, better than any whip could provide.
He holds still inside me while two men approach and free my legs. Then—only granting me that short minute to adjust—Ulf pulls out and slams back in, fucking me mercilessly.
Lifting my legs up to wrap around him, he supports my ass with one hand and grabs my face with the other. His thrusts send me into his hand at my ass, making the butt plug jostle, sending bolts of sensations to my core, counterbalancing the painful thrusts ringing through my abdomen.
“No way out,” he reminds me, lifting his chin, eyes wide with primal intent.
“Always mine. To protect. Guide. And take care of. Mine to discipline. To punish. However I see fit. But always protect.” He marks each statement with a thrust that has me screaming into the night, staring helplessly at him as I let him claim my body, my soul, and the very essence of my being.
In a brief moment of clarity, I know that my life will forever change after this night. I won’t ever be the same again. It’s a loss that I grieve, but also a prospect that fills me with hope.
I keep crying, unable to hold back a single tear—completely lost to my bodily instincts.
“That’s it. Give me all those pretty tears.” He leans in and kisses the hot drops away, but more come in their wake, rushing down my cheeks, snot running from my nose, baring me in a display of extreme vulnerability as painful as it is liberating—like everything else tonight.
He keeps going, on and on, fucking me with startling stamina. And I keep crying and crying, the tears unending, the overwhelming exhaustion, exposure, pain, and pleasure clashing and crashing inside me like unrelenting strikes of lightning.
“Please,” I start whimpering repeatedly, unable to take any more.
Yet I don’t want him to stop. “Please,” I repeat, my muscles contracting deep in my belly.
I need this to end, but I need to come just as much.
I need that final release. I’m so close, yet I can’t quite seem to reach the peak. I need… something. Just a little more.
Ulf releases my gaze, and the loss of his steady connection nearly drops me into despair. But then a buzzing sensation jolts into my already sensitive nerves. The butt plug. My eyes go wide, my mouth falling open to release a long, wild moan.
Ulf locks our eyes together again, a slow smile tinting the darkness of his gaze. “Come for me, Elina,” he says, long, steady words that carry above the beat of the music and light a spark in the flammable pool of my lust.
A scream rips from my lungs, and spasms jerk and tear at my body, making me writhe and thrash in the ropes.
Never releasing my eyes, Ulf wraps his other arm around me to offer more stability. And just as I think the storm of the orgasm is about to die down, he deepens his thrusts and sends me reeling with new ripples of staggering sensation as he finds his own release with a feral growl.
Another orgasm tears through me, agonizing and astonishing, and I keep screaming and panting, unable to take the unending rush of pleasure.
Finally, it snuffs out the last embers of strength in my body, and I fall limp in Ulf’s arms as the world and my mind go black.