Chapter 15 #2
“What do you think, beautiful? Do you want to play with our toy? She tastes so sweet for us,” Rul purred, a deep sound that resonated in his chest.
“So very sweet,” Bellinor agreed, with a strangely gentle smile.
He waved his hand, a flash of shadows revealing a red silk ribbon that floated into his waiting palm.
Rul chuckled, helping Isabelle sit up as Bellinor got behind her, wrapping the ribbon over her eyes and tying it behind her head.
It was wide enough to plummet her into darkness, her heart already racing as she realized she was even more vulnerable, blind prey while the predators breathed down her neck.
“We’re going somewhere else,” Bellinor said, taking her hands and helping her off the couch.
He twisted her around, holding her at the waist and pushing her forward, step by shaky step. A door creaked, and as she walked, she had a good idea of where they were heading.
The red room.
There was another door creaking, Bellinor’s strong grasp guiding her through a new space until they came to a stop.
“Go ahead. Undress her,” he said, releasing her and making her feel like she was falling through the air before there was another touch at her waist.
Rul.
He made quick work of her dress, wasting no time in unbuttoning the back and letting it slip from her body, the cold air stiffening her nipples into peaks.
It was beginning to feel normal to be bare before them, though the deprivation of her sight made the sensation all the more exhilarating, like she was being put on display.
Rul lifted her right wrist, and she felt smooth leather encircling it, just like when he had first tied her to the bed. When she tried to lower her arm, there was the jangle of chains, and it became clear that he’d restrained her to something above her.
He did the same to her other wrist, and she didn’t fight him, eager to see what they would do.
Rul didn’t stop there, though, fixing leather shackles to both of her ankles and dancing his fingers up the back of her leg, over her ass, all the way until he fisted a knot of hair at the back of her head.
“How does that feel, baby?” he whispered. “You’re so helpless, utterly at our mercy.”
Isabelle trembled, worried that her legs would give out, though her body was screaming with arousal.
“It feels good,” she breathed, and there was a smack at her ass, the sharp sound making her ears ring.
“This is exactly where you want to be, isn’t it? I knew you’d love this.”
It was Rul’s smooth voice again, and anxiety filled her, wondering if Bellinor was there. He hadn’t spoken since Rul had taken over, and she couldn’t hear anything beyond the clanking of chains as she tested them. She whimpered, opening her mouth to speak before shutting it once more.
“What is it, sweetheart?” Rul cooed, brushing her hair over her shoulder and planting a soft kiss on her neck.
“Where’s B-Bellinor?” she asked, already too far gone to be ashamed.
Rul chuckled, stepping away and leaving her, anticipation creeping through her nerves as she awaited an answer.
“See? I told you she likes you. You worry so much, and here she is, crying because she wants you here.”
Isabelle’s cheeks flushed as she heard Bellinor’s deep growl, a hand at her waist making her jolt against the restraints.
“I’m here, darling,” Bellinor said, his voice low and reverberating through her sinews. “And I want you to let go. I’m relieving you of your burdens today.”
Her breath caught in her throat, tears dotting her eyes underneath the silken blindfold.
As he combed his fingers through her hair, she sighed deeply, slumping against the chains.
She knew what he was talking about, the weight that she had been carrying since she was old enough to understand what had happened to her mother.
The weight that was compounded as her father had sunk further into his depression until leaving her for good, no more than a skull rotting away in the woods.
She swallowed hard as Bellinor stepped away, trying to contain the tears, the emotion swelling in her chest.
There was a snap as a tingling bite of pain whipped across her ass, her surprised cry battling with the sounds of the clanking chains.
It didn’t feel like a slap from someone’s hand, and she wondered if it was Rul’s tail that had hit her, or a flogger like the one the priestesses used, the spot stinging until another crack rang out, another bolt of thumping pain.
It was just enough to get her adrenaline pumping, making her skin prickle with anticipation.
She pressed her cheek to the metal arm of the structure that held her, grounded by the cool sensation as her backside heated.
She winced as someone touched her, though this time it was a sensual caress, massaging the skin where she’d been struck and easing some of the pain.
“Don’t think, baby, just trust us. We won’t damage you,” Rul said, her body tensing as she anticipated another strike. “Can you do that?”
“Yes,” she gasped, trying to relax, though it was difficult when she didn’t know what was coming next.
Would it be the sharp smack of someone’s hand, or the tingling pain of a whip-like tail? A sweet touch, or something else? The cut of a knife? The brutal agony of a bite? All the potential ideas swirled in her head, her body coiling with erotic tension.
Pain or pleasure, she accepted both without reservation, the need to dull her senses so strong that she’d do anything to forget. Anything to let them relieve her burden.
“Every inch of you is ours to worship,” Bellinor said, his voice drifting past her like a cool breeze. “Because you deserve it. You deserve to forgive yourself. You deserve to be accepted for who you are.”
He punctuated the statement with a gentle caress of her side and a light whip against her ass in tandem, the dual sensation of pleasure and pain making her whimper. Someone’s mouth was at her neck, sucking and nibbling her skin and sending a zing of arousal straight to her center.
Squirming against the restraints was foolish, but she craved the proof of her helplessness, the knowledge that she couldn’t go anywhere until they released her.
This wasn’t her doing, it was theirs, and the Goddess couldn’t fault her for that, no matter how much she wanted it.
She pressed her cheek to the cool metal once more, finding comfort as her imagination ran wild.
Someone reached around and squeezed one of her breasts, sending another lightning bolt to her core, kneading gently before pinching her nipple hard. She let out a yelp, sweat beading on her brow as gentle laughter echoed from all around her.
“What do you deserve, my dear?” Bellinor asked, his voice like silk against her ear.
Isabelle tensed, knowing what he wanted to hear but not ready to answer.
“Tell us, sweetheart. Be a good girl,” Rul prodded, and she swallowed hard, her need to please outweighing the negative thoughts bubbling in her head.
“I deserve… to feel good.”
It wasn’t the response they wanted, certainly, but it was the best she could do. They accepted her answer, pressing kisses to her neck and shoulders before resuming their attentions.
With each teasing strike and gentle affection, her mind numbed until she sank into a dreamlike state, her entire body lax against the chains. They weren’t going to harm her, because she deserved to feel good.
Sensations were being applied, but it became impossible to tell whether it was pain or pleasure. All she knew was that she enjoyed being at their mercy, being able to trust someone so wholeheartedly that she could give in completely.
There was a short reprieve, her chest heaving with exertion as she awaited another rush, her anxiety ramping up as the seconds ticked by. But instead of a touch, there was a whisper in her ear, Rul reminding her of her place.
“What are you?” he asked.
“I’m a good girl for my owners,” she murmured, unable to hold herself upright any longer.
“That’s right,” Bellinor said, supporting her with his hands around her waist. “You love being used by us, taking every last bit of what we give to you. Such a sweet and generous little thing. So deserving of acceptance.”
Isabelle beamed as her cuffs were removed one by one, slumping into Bellinor’s arms when her legs gave out. All she wanted to do was to serve. And being praised for her service? It filled her with warmth, as if she’d done something right for once.
“I love it. I love you.”
The words left her mouth before she could stop them, a soft murmur that she wondered if anyone had even heard. Words she had never said aloud. Words that had never been said to her. Words that were true and untrue and nothing and everything.
He was Celeste and Celeste was him.
He lifted her into his arms, her back and ass inflamed with gentle heat, and she relished the sensation. Then she was weightless as she was tossed into the air, landing on something soft. The bed?
Someone flipped her onto her stomach, jerking her arms behind her back and folding them into a reverse prayer pose, which hurt her shoulders.
Sharp thorns twisted around her forearms, making her jerk as they were tied together, the delicious pinpricks of pain igniting the arousal simmering within her.
“Be careful with her,” Rul warned, his voice wavering, but a vicious snarl cut through the air.
“Don’t tell me what to do. She’s mine to do with as I please.”
There was no more conversation after that, rough hands hiking her ass into the air and spreading her bent legs wide.
“You crave being controlled, claimed. Well, I’m going to do just that,” Bellinor hissed in her ear, her body tingling with erotic expectation as she felt something slide through her slick center.
Oh, Goddess, how badly she wanted to please him, but it never seemed to be enough. Was he any different from Celeste? Or just another cruel divinity who never returned the love of their devotees?