The Ruse

Ava wakes to the hard snap of the cane across her flesh. She cries out. Nothing answers. The room is cold and black. Her arms are stretched above her, wrists bound tight. Someone circles her without a word. His breath hits her skin, hot and close. The flogger cuts in, sharp, turning her pale skin red. She screams for him. Her voice falls flat against the walls. He stays silent. Fingers grip her hair, yank her head back. Hot wax spills over her breasts. He spreads her legs and pushes a finger inside her. She’s soaked, dripping. The need to be used burns hotter than the pain. Orgasm hits hard, then another, tearing through her while he keeps her open and exposed.