Read Online BlackmailedbytheSadist by Arthur Mitchell - Free Book Online Page B

had been led up on the way in. A short jaunt on the main floor later, and they came to another staircase, one that plunged far into the ground, far enough for the temperature to drop to an icy chill.
    Frigid stripes creaked up her spine, and her nipples would have puckered, if not for the hardening wax covering them. Her bare feet thudded on the frigid pavement when they reached the bottom.
    He led her over a few more steps, until she could sense herself entering a large room. Her keeper moved away, drawn by the lure of his tools.
    “Stay there,” he said. She listened to distant rummaging sounds. Despite the cool air, a single bead of sweat snaked its way down her neck, a nervous droplet that reflected her unease.
    The billionaire moved with surprising speed when he returned. Without a word, he jerked her hands up into a two hard leather shackles that dangled above her. Her arms went up, and for a second she feared she would leave the ground.
    Next, one of his hands found its way to her blindfold, where he tore it away from her ears, exposing himself to her for the first time. His face was well shrouded in the dark black mask that covered his entire face, save for rounded eye and mouth slits.
    Her body rippled fearfully as she looked at the deadness of his face, illuminated only by the stark lust in his eyes. He was naked, except for a wolf skin cape dangling from his back, sporting a huge erection that seemed weirdly out of place for his middle aged body.
    “Good girl. I trust you like what you see. If not, that's always fun too.” He was delicately twirling what appeared to be a great baton in his hands. It looked much like a policeman's stick, but the leathery straps on the end were more fit for flogging a horse.
    God. Now's the time to go to that happy place of yours. Or do you really want to go there? You don't see cocks like his everyday. And there's something about this learned helplessness that's making you dribble like a virgin on her wedding night.

    Sandra's lips jabbered as he strode toward her, slapping the long stick against one palm with louder, more insistent whacks. The fanatical seriousness in his eyes caused her clit to ignite its invisible fire.
    “A real shame we haven't been introduced. I already know who you are, but if you need a name for your pain, call it Lucien.” His eyes curled up into wicked smiles, transmitting his intent well before his first resounding smack fell against her ass.

    Lucien's Private World
    He tore her dress to shreds, bit by bit, using the inky tentacles of his implement to undress her. Sandra groaned when he rounded her ass, bringing the stings up her back, all the way to her shoulders. The jellyfish needles from his flog singed her in ways she didn't understand.
    When one slap fell against her left ass cheek, the pain found its way in her elbow. When he whacked her thighs, curious energy crept down to her toes, freezing them in short bursts until the ice splintered away with fire.
    The fire...the cool air...
    Careful! He'll see that you're enjoying this too much. This is supposed to be about his pleasure.
    That voice within her skull was taking on his characteristics, infected by his domineering spirit. Or, perhaps, it was that scared little girl she sometimes saw, the same one who bawled her eyes out when the drugs sent her car off the road, striking the vehicle across the line that night.
    There was something sickly therapeutic about being whipped like an unruly animal. Each time Lucien's leathery hammer fell across her breasts, her thighs, her ass, she felt claustrophobic strapss coming undone inside her head.
    The stern position of his eyes and mouth through his mask said that he knew exactly what he was doing. Once, he paused to nod as the energy throughout her numbing body bristled, all of it surging through her overtaxed bloodstream.
    Winding, winding, winding between my legs.
    “You're taking this rather well,” he said, echoing her thoughts exactly. “I