REINA
I clung to Donico’s neck as he carried through the hidden panel, my legs wrapped tight around his waist, my soaked pussy sliding along the rigid length of his cock with every step.
My heart hamred so hard I felt it in my throat, a frantic drumbeat of fear and want. I’d never seen this side of him, never imagined the man who’d fucked raw in a speeding car kept a dungeon beneath his villa. But I trusted him.
God help , I trusted him with every trembling inch of my body.
The stairs spiraled downward in a tight coil, each step lit by these feeble red wall-lights that turned his face into sothing straight out of hell. Cheekbones sharp as knives, eyes swallowed in black pits.
His arms didn’t falter, muscles flexing under my thighs, cock pulsing against my slick folds with want.
When we reached the bottom, he set back down on my feet, steadying when my knees buckled. I swayed, clutching his shoulders, and finally looked around.
Holy fuck.
The walls were pitch black, not the cute aesthetic kind, but the "nobody will hear you scream here" kind.
Chains were hanging from the ceiling, thick ones, the kind you’d see in a garage but... upgraded. Sex upgraded.
And in the corner? A massive St. Andrew’s cross. Red leather. Big enough to hold soone in place. I didn’t even want to imagine who’d been on it.
There was a bench too. Not a normal bench. This one had straps everywhere. Everywhere. I didn’t need Google to figure out what it was for.
Then my eyes hit the wall and I swear my heart dropped.
Literally dropped.
Whips, floggers, paddles, canes... all arranged neatly like soone’s very serious collection. And the glass cases? Oh my God. Plugs, clamps, vibrators, and things that looked straight out of a porn video.
On a low table sat a bunch of unlit candles and a bowl of ice cubes just... sitting there like they had a job to do.
I actually made a sound.
A real, embarrassing little gasp because... yeah.
This was a lot.
Donico stepped behind , hands settling on my hips, lips brushing the shell of my ear.
"Breathe, baby," he murmured, voice velvet and venom. "You’re safe. You don’t have to be scared, I’m not going to hurt you..." he paused, then chuckled. "I an, this is going to be fun."
Was I pathetically lonely, or was I sex starved to death in my past life or was I just too broken that I found this incredibly hot?
"Make a sound if you still wanna do this, princess." He moaned, like, Donico literally moaned the words into my ear.
I nodded, jerky, my nipples so hard they ached against the silk of my dress.
"Fuck, you’re so sexy when you’re speechless." Donico hissed, biting the lobe of my ear before stepping away from .
Just one step, and it felt like we were worlds apart.
"Shit! This man is seriously going to ruin ." I grumbled inwardly, then swallowed thickly while watching Donico from the corner of my eyes.
He circled slowly, predator assessing prey, eyes raking over every inch. When he stopped in front of , he cupped my chin, tilting my face up.
"Color system, we’re going to need it," he said, thumb stroking my lower lip. "Green for good. Yellow for slow down. Red for stop. You say red, everything ends. No questions. Understand?"
I swallowed, tasting him on my tongue from earlier. "Yes, Daddy."
His smile was slow, wicked. "Good girl."
He stepped back, again, grabbed a thick leather cuff from a nearby hook. "Arms up."
I obeyed, raising my arms a little higher than I had wanted. I was just too eager I could chop my arms off if he had asked to.
"You’re so beautiful, baby." Donico grunted, eyes running up and down my almost-naked body, making feel a little hotter than I already felt.
The dress—already torn and ruined—clung to my sweat-slick skin. Donico gripped the hem and ripped. The sound of silk shredding filled the room, sharp and final.
Cool air kissed my breasts, my belly, my thighs as the fabric fell away in tatters. He didn’t stop until I stood naked except for my soaked panties, the red lace soaked and clinging between my ass crack.
He circled again, slower this ti, trailing one finger down my spine. Gooseflesh erupted in his wake. When he reached my front, he hooked a finger under the waistband of my panties and tugged. The lace stretched, then snapped, the scrap fluttering to the floor. I was bare. Exposed. Dripping down my inner thighs.
Just for daddy’s eyes to feast on.
"Fuck," he growled, eyes locked on my pussy. "Look at you. Still leaking for ."
I whimpered, thighs rubbing together. He caught the movent, smirked, and grabbed my wrists, snapping a cuff on them.
The cuff was soft inside, brutal outside—thick black leather with a silver buckle. He fastened it around my left wrist, then my right, linking them with a short chain. The weight was grounding, thrilling.
Donico raised my arms, hooked the chain to a ring bolted into the ceiling. I rose onto my toes, stretched tall, breasts thrust forward, every muscle taut.
He stepped back, admiring the job he had done like I was his masterpiece, like he’d just unwrapped his favorite toy.
A fulfilling smirk playing on his lips as he whispered, "Perfect." he let out, and sothing in my stomach dropped, hot and low.
That complint did sothing dirty to .
I was shaking. Legs parted, tits out, pussy literally dripping down my thighs. I looked like a slut hanging there and he loved it. I could see it in the way his eyes darkened.
"Daddy..." I whispered, voice barely holding together.
His gaze dropped to my cunt instantly.
"Fuck," he muttered, stepping closer. "You’re already begging and I haven’t even touched you."
A pathetic little whine escaped , high, needy, humiliating.
He smirked, slow and cruel.
"Such a ssy little slut you are."
My knees almost gave out.
"Open your legs wider," Donico ordered, voice was a pure sin.
I did, instantly, helplessly, baring
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