Chapter 10!

The moment the garden door clicks shut behind them, Tori’s grip on Rachel’s wrist tightens, her nails digging into soft flesh just enough to make Rachel gasp. The secluded corner of the estate’s lower terrace is draped in shadow, the only light coming from the sliver of moon cutting through the iron lattice above. The air is thick with the scent of jasmine and something darker—sweat, arousal, the metallic tang of anticipation. Tori doesn’t speak at first. She doesn’t need to. Her silence is a command, her stillness a threat, and Rachel’s pulse hammers in her throat as she waits, her breath shallow, her body already betraying her with a slow, traitorous ache between her thighs.

“Tell me, Rachel,” Tori finally purrs, her voice a velvet blade sliding between Rachel’s ribs. Her free hand lifts, fingers tracing the curve of Rachel’s cheek, her thumb brushing over Rachel’s parted lips. “What do you crave?” The word hangs between them, heavy with implication. Rachel swallows, her tongue darting out to wet her lower lip, and Tori’s eyes darken at the movement. “No lies. No pretty words. I want the filth in your head, the thing that keeps you up at night, the fantasy you’re too ashamed to even touch yourself to.” Her fingers drift lower, skimming the column of Rachel’s throat, pressing just hard enough to make Rachel’s breath hitch. “Tell me, or I walk away, and you’ll never know what it’s like to have it.”

Rachel’s knees tremble. She can still feel Sophie’s hands on her, the way her touch had been both tender and ruthless, the way she’d made Rachel beg without even trying. But this—this is different. Tori doesn’t want her surrender. She wants her broken. And God help her, Rachel wants that too. The admission burns up her throat, raw and ugly. “I want to be owned,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “I want someone to take everything from me—my choices, my control, my dignity—and leave me nothing but a trembling, useless mess. I want to be used until I can’t remember my own name, until I’m nothing but a hole for someone else’s pleasure.” The words spill out of her, shame and desire twisting together until she can’t tell them apart. “I want to hurt for it. I want to cry and beg and still not be enough, because that’s the only time I feel—” She cuts herself off, her cheeks flaming, but Tori’s grip on her wrist tightens, her nails biting deeper.

“Real,” Tori finishes for her, her voice a dark chuckle. “Oh, Rachel.” Her hand slides down, palming Rachel’s throat now, her thumb pressing against the flutter of her pulse. “You dirty little thing.” Her lips brush the shell of Rachel’s ear, her breath hot and damp. “You think you’re the first submissive whore to want that? To crave the kind of pain that makes you forget?” Her teeth graze Rachel’s earlobe, sharp enough to make her whimper. “You’re not special, Rachel. But you are mine. And tonight, I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” She pulls back just enough to meet Rachel’s gaze, her own eyes glinting with cruel promise. “But it won’t be easy. You’ll beg. You’ll plead. And when I’m done with you, you’ll thank me for every second of it.”

Rachel’s breath comes in ragged little gasps, her body already thrumming with need, her pussy slick and aching. She should be terrified. She is terrified. But the fear only makes the want sharper, the hunger deeper. “Yes,” she breathes, her voice barely audible. “Please.”

Tori smirks, a slow, dangerous curve of her lips, and then she snaps her fingers.

The sound is sharp, abrupt, and Rachel jumps, her bound wrists twitching between them. But then—there. A length of silk rope, black as sin, materializing in Tori’s hand as if by magic. Rachel’s stomach clenches. She’s been tied up before, but never like this. Never with this kind of intent. Tori doesn’t rush. She lets Rachel see the rope, lets her imagine what’s coming, her fingers trailing over the smooth fibers before she finally, finally brings it to Rachel’s wrists.

“First rule,” Tori murmurs, her voice a dark caress as she begins to wrap the silk around Rachel’s left wrist, her movements deliberate, almost reverent. “You don’t get to come until I say so.” The rope tightens, the fibers biting into Rachel’s skin just enough to sting. “Not when I touch you. Not when I fuck you. Not when you’re sobbing and begging and dripping for it.” She secures the first knot, her fingers brushing the sensitive skin of Rachel’s inner wrist, and Rachel shudders, a whine escaping her lips. Tori ignores it, moving to the other wrist, her touch just as precise. “Second rule,” she continues, her voice dropping to a growl, “every time you break, every time you falter, every time you disobey, I add another layer of punishment.” The second knot is tighter, the silk digging in, and Rachel’s breath stutters as Tori yanks the binding just hard enough to make her stumble forward, her bound wrists pressed against Tori’s chest. “Understood?”

Rachel’s mind races, her body already thrumming with the promise of what’s to come. She can feel the wetness between her thighs, the way her nipples ache against the fabric of her dress. She should be afraid. She is afraid. But the fear is intoxicating, the risk a drug. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “I’m ready.”

Tori’s laugh is a low, dark sound, her hand sliding down Rachel’s arm, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of Rachel’s thigh, her thumb pressing dangerously close to the heat between Rachel’s legs. “Good girl,” she growls, her voice rough with approval. “Because this?” Her grip tightens, her nails biting into Rachel’s skin through the thin fabric of her dress. “This is just the beginning.”

Rachel’s breath catches as Tori’s lips crash against her neck, her teeth sinking into the tender skin just below Rachel’s ear. The pain is sharp, sudden, and Rachel cries out, her body arching into it, her bound wrists straining against the silk. Tori doesn’t let up. Her mouth moves lower, her tongue tracing the line of Rachel’s collarbone, her teeth nipping at the swell of her breast through the fabric. Rachel can feel the wet heat of Tori’s breath, the way her own body betrays her, her hips rocking forward, seeking friction, seeking more.

“Pathetic,” Tori murmurs against her skin, her hand sliding higher, her palm cupping Rachel’s breast, her thumb flicking over the hardened peak of her nipple through the dress. “You’re already dripping for me, aren’t you?” Her fingers pinch, hard, and Rachel gasps, a broken sound tearing from her throat. “Answer me.”

“Y-yes,” Rachel stutters, her face burning with humiliation, her body burning with need. “Please, Tori—”

“Please, what?” Tori’s voice is a whip crack, her hand leaving Rachel’s breast to grip her chin, forcing her to meet her gaze. Rachel’s lips part, her mind scrambling for the right words, the words that will make this better, that will make the ache between her thighs ease. But Tori’s eyes are merciless, her grip unyielding.

“Please…” Rachel’s voice breaks, her vision blurring with unshed tears. “Please, Mistress.”

Tori’s smirk is triumphant, her thumb brushing over Rachel’s lower lip, her touch almost gentle now, a cruel contrast to the fire in her eyes. “There’s my good girl,” she purrs, her voice a dark caress. “Now let’s see how long you can last.” Her hand drops, her fingers trailing down Rachel’s body, her touch feather-light, maddening, before she finally, finally presses her palm against the aching heat between Rachel’s thighs.

Rachel’s entire body jerks, a broken moan tearing from her throat as Tori’s fingers press harder, the fabric of her dress doing nothing to dull the sensation. “You’re soaked,” Tori murmurs, her voice a dark chuckle. “And we’ve only just started.” Her fingers move, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure just enough to make Rachel’s knees buckle, her bound wrists the only thing keeping her upright. “Remember the rules, Rachel,” Tori whispers, her lips brushing the shell of Rachel’s ear. “No coming. No matter how good it feels. No matter how much you beg.”

Rachel’s breath comes in ragged sobs, her body trembling, her mind already unraveling. She can feel the orgasm building, coiling tight and low in her belly, the pleasure almost painful in its intensity. She tries to pull away, her hips jerking back, but Tori’s grip is relentless, her fingers working Rachel’s clit through the fabric with cruel precision.

“T-Tori, I—I can’t—” Rachel’s voice is a broken whine, her body betraying her, her hips rocking forward despite herself, chasing the pressure, the release—

Tori’s hand vanishes.

Rachel cries out, the sudden absence of touch a physical blow, her body trembling, her pussy throbbing, empty and aching. She sways on her feet, her bound wrists the only thing keeping her from collapsing, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps.

“Pathetic,” Tori murmurs, her voice a dark chuckle as she steps back, her eyes raking over Rachel’s trembling form. “And we’ve only just begun.” She reaches out, her fingers trailing down Rachel’s cheek, her touch almost tender now, a cruel contrast to the fire in her eyes. “You’ll learn, Rachel. You’ll break. And when you do?” Her lips curve into a smile, sharp as a blade. “I’ll be the one to put you back together.”

(Not related to this story)

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