I shrug and close my eyes for a moment. I need to regain focus, I need to breathe, I need to repent through blood and my time is running out. I need to push away the humanity that’s struggling to shine through because I don’t feel like Pally right now.
I feel like Grace and that just won’t do.
“Gimme,” I hiss at him, snatching the bag from his hand. He shouldn’t be holding this—it’s not his choice what we get to use—it’s mine.
“Don’t be a bossy little bitch,” he warns as he takes a step toward me and grabs a handful of my hair. Reade pulls it back, arching me at an uneven angle before he reaches a hand down and roughly shoves a thumb into my pussy.
“Good; you’re still wet. Let’s keep going.”
I bite down on my teeth to keep another wail of anguish from escaping me. By now, Reade has lashed me across my ass with his belt at least twenty times.
He told me that bossy little girls need to be put in line, and bent me over my chair, knees firmly holding me in place. He’s been whipping my flesh, causing it to turn crimson, extracting welts, and not letting up.
I find his cruelty to be exquisite. His demeanor as he lashes me over and over is divinity on Earth. It makes me wonder if, really, he’s God finally come down from the heavens to cleanse me in a different way.
When he finally drops the belt to the floor, I can hear him breathing heavily. I close my eyes tightly, not to will the pain away, but to hope that the feeling lasts longer than I know it will.
My eyes fly open again when I hear him rifling through my bag. I attempt to lower my feet to the floor in an effort to stop him, but he’s much faster than me. In an instant, the belt is back in his hand as he lays it across my back.
“Haven’t learned your lesson, yet?” he asks before he goes back to digging through my bag.
“That’s not yours,” I snap at him in defiance. An act of courage that is rewarded with another sound lash to the back.
When I glance at the screen again, my grimace turns to a slight smile. His lashing me isn’t having the effect on me he wants, but he’s playing to our voyeur’s appetites and that is what counts.
I take a deep breath as I slowly begin to lower my feet to the floor again. If he sees submission in my movements instead of defiance, I’m sure he’ll let his guard down long enough for me to take the bag away from him.
When no leather greats my flesh, I sit on my bruised and welted bare ass, doing my best not to flinch from the pain. The only satisfaction I will give him will be the one he’s earned from his carnal desires—not from whipping me like a disobedient child.
I lock my knees together as I push my hair behind my ears, then fold my hands in my lap. They’re still free of the blood I’ve been longing for, save for the crusts that I still can’t recall.
Reade stops digging through the bag, his hand hovering slightly as he leans down a little more, peering toward the very bottom.
A short giggle escapes me like a rush of air and when he pulls it out and starts to unwrap it, I begin to chew my lower lip nervously.
“Do you like it?” I ask.
“Holy shit,” he breathes as he drops the prop, then scoots away from it. “What the fuck is that?”
“The only toy I’ve ever made,” I explain quietly as I lean down and pick up the prop, cradling it to my breast. I begin to rock it back and forth slowly, whispering my discontent and love for it. I glance up at Reade who’s now looking at me like I’m a monster and smile.
“Now that you’ve seen it, you understand why I need to be cleansed.”
Chapter Thirteen
Reade
I watch Pally as she holds what’s left of a fetus close to her. She seems to be trying to nurse the decaying body and in a strange way, I’m transfixed by her movements when I should be repulsed.
When she cut the feed earlier, I set out to find her. With as much money as I’ve thrown at her fucking shows, I wanted to know what the big deal was. Since she’s not exactly great at hiding her I.P. address, I was able to do a trace and locate her seconds after she cut the feed.
She’s worth every damn dollar I’ve spent on her. Seeing her in person only solidifies what I’ve suspected before. She was pregnant when she first started her shows, until one night, she wasn’t.
But what she’s holding isn’t a full baby. It seems to be only the top half, so fuck knows where the rest of it went. I won’t ask her, instead, I’ll choose to ignore it as best as I can and keep fucking her.
She’s not the only tight pussy on the most depraved corners of the internet, but she’s definitely my favorite. Now that I’ve had a taste of her in person, I want more.
“Put that away for now,” I instruct her slowly as I get to my feet. “We can play with that later.”
Pally snaps her gaze up toward me. Her eyes are hollow as is the smile on her lips, but she continues to press her nipple against the infant’s mouth, squeezing her tit to nurse the fucking thing.
“Pally?” I take a step closer toward her and hold out the bag. “I promise you can play with it later—I’ll even play too, but for now, I want to play with you some more, okay?”
She looks down at her half-child, kisses the forehead gently, then drops it into the bag. “Okay.”
“Good girl,” I tell her as I toss the bag across the room. When she gets to her feet in protest, I push her back down into the chair. “We’re not done yet.”
The chair crashes back against the floor as she topples backward with it and I smirk. I know we’re being watched. I told them all to come back in an hour to join the stream because I knew she wouldn’t be able to turn me away.
They want a show, and this time, since I’m a part of it instead of just watching, I think she can do a hell of a lot better than she normally does.
“On your hands and knees, little girl,” I command her in a stern tone.
She winces slightly as she pushes the chair away, then does as she’s told. She’s damn good at taking instructions online, but it feels more rewarding when I get to tell her what to do in person.
Especially since I’m not throwing money at her for it.
“Come,” I tell her evenly as I point to the spot in front of me. She crawls dutifully to the place I want her and when she stops, I reach down and caress the side of her face. It would be such a shame to mar something so beautiful, but I’m not above doing it if that’s what our spectators want.
Glancing around the room, I grin when my eyes land on the lone crucifix hanging on the wall behind her setup.
“Do not move,” I warn her, holding up a finger. She nods as her eyes follow mine, and I can see the earnest longing in her gaze.
Walking over to the wall, I pull down the icon and put some muscle into snapping the arms off before I go back to my sweet and sinister Sister Paloma Grace.
“Open your mouth.”
I slip the broken, ragged end of the crucifix down her throat. Her eyes bulge in protest, but she doesn’t make a move to push me away. Instead, she begins to bob her head up and down as she blows the fucking thing like a two-dollar crack whore and that will make it easier on her than me.