Page 111 of Venomous Desires

Ptichka. He was pleased.

My nightmare didn’t wait for my response. The cane came down again, and I cried out, the sting sharp and burning. “Two,” I choked out.

“Such a pretty sight,” Judas murmured hoarsely, and I couldtell he was biting his lips. “Your ass looks so red and marked, just for me.”

Another strike, another cry. “Three,” I gasped, the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as the sensation overwhelmed me.

“Do you like this, Ptichka?” he taunted. “Do you like being punished for your disobedience?”

I wanted to deny it, wanted to scream at him that I hated it, that I hated him, but the truth was lodged in my throat, choking me. Because deep down, some part of me knew nothing good would come after pissing him.

The cane struck again, and I cried out louder this time, my body arching off the bed as the pain sent a rush of heat pooling between my legs. The sensation was so foreign and scary that I clenched my thighs together. “Four,” I moaned in pain.

“That’s it,” he growled, and I could feel his voice roughing up as he moved closer and the heat of his body pressed against me. “Take it all, Ptichka. Take it, and know that you’re mine. Only mine.”

The strikes came faster now, drawing a cry from my lips, pushing me closer to the brink of jumping into the ocean. The pain was overwhelming, and so was he.

“You’re so beautiful when you cry,” his breath hot against my ear as he leaned over me, his free hand sliding down my back and soothing the burning skin before gripping my hip with bruising force. “So perfect, so mine.”

The last strike was the hardest, and it was not the cane, but his palm biting deep into my flesh. I screamed, my body convulsing as the pain tipped over into something indescribable, something that shattered me completely. “Ten,” I sobbed, the tears streaming down my face as I finally gave in, surrendering completely to him, to the pain, to everything.

I was scared, and the fear strangled me. I couldn’t move.Couldn’t speak. The silk binding my wrists held me in one place.

A shiver travelled up my spine as I once again felt the cane tap against my thigh. I flinched, a soft gasp escaping my lips. He noticed, of course, he did, and he chuckled.

I bit my lip, trying to stifle the whimper that threatened to escape as he trailed the cane up, slow and purposeful. The tip grazed my skin, teasing, tormenting, sending jolts of sensation through my body. My breath hitched as my insides burned, and I clenched my jaw, preparing myself for another strike.

To my surprise, he paused, letting the cane rest just between my thighs. I swallowed hard, my throat burning from the alcohol, from the fear, from everything.

And then, with agonizing slowness, he moved the cane lower, brushing against my most sensitive spot. I couldn’t help it—the whimper slipped out before I could stop it, and it was a shameful sound that made my cheeks burn with humiliation.

He laughed, low and cruel, his grip on the cane tightening as he pressed the tip against my entrance. My body tensed, every muscle coiled tight, and I looked over my shoulder with wide eyes. He couldn’t be…

“You feel that?” he whispered darkly, and I shook my head.

“Judas…”

The cane pushed forward slowly, deliberately penetrating, which made my breath hitch. I whimpered, biting down hard on my lip, but it was no use. No. No, no, no. It was too much. I couldn’t take it.

He thrust the cane deeper with a brutal force that sent me jolting forward. I cried out. “Judas, please, stop this!”

“Take it all in. I’m just preparing you for my cock.”

My world narrowed to the sharp, burning sensation, the cruel stretch, the relentless rhythm as he worked the cane in and out of me. My thoughts splintered, shattering under his control, his power. I was lost, drowning in the darkness he wove aroundme, with no escape, no reprieve.

And through it all, his voice whispered in my ear. “Now you know how to beg, huh?”

My body trembled, the sensations overwhelming, too much, yet not enough. I was caught in his web, trapped by the pain, the pleasure, the brutal truth that he had carved into my soul.

By the time he finally pulled the cane away, I was nothing but a trembling, broken thing, gasping for breath, my body alight with the fire he had ignited. But even in my shattered state, I knew one thing with terrifying certainty.

He was right.

And I hated myself for it.

Before I could react, Judas tossed the cane aside and his hands on my hips pulled me back against him, his hard length pressed insistently against my entrance. I was still trembling, my body slick with sweat, when he rubbed his clothes erection against my wetness. This wasn’t me. This was just my body’s response. He purposely had me drunk. The sick bastard.

“Now, let’s get to the real fun.”