Chapter 24
I can’t remember if every single prisoner takes a turn earning me a whipping, but I feel like they did. Very little work gets done that day, as many of the women opt to nap or rest while watching my many whippings. The show keeps them occupied, barely paying attention to their work, so by the end of the day we’re far below quota. I get punished for that too.
When it’s over, my body is so sore, Reed has to carry me. Every step reawakens an ache that had finally subsided. My ass bears the worst of it, of course, but the pain feels like it’s coming from everywhere.
Then there’s the throbbing in my warmth, the itch I haven’t been able to scratch, the hunger that refuses to be ignored. Enduring my need for release has been just as difficult as the whippings. Wherever Reed is taking me now it better be to give me some release. As we get closer, I recognize the area: it’s the wing where Jefferson’s private room is located.
“Can you stand?” he asks me as he opens a door to one of the rooms. Like Jefferson’s, it reminds me of a hotel, a very nice one: spacious, warm and decorated with stylish, modern furniture. The queen-sized bed, covered in fluffy pillows and blankets, calls to me.
“No,” I grunt, though I could, I just really don’t want to.
“Are you okay?” he asks, carefully carrying me inside and shutting the door behind him.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, cringing as he sets me down on the soft, cream-colored bed. Lying on my stomach helps alleviate some of the pain, but it’ll be a long time before it goes away completely. Carefully, he slips his hands into my pants and pulls them down to my ankles. Exposure to the room’s cool air feels good as I bury my face against the floral-scented linens.
Reed opens up a cabinet drawer and takes out a bottle of some kind of liquid. He squirts some into his hand, then rubs the bruises and welts on my ass. Soothed by the ointment, I sigh in relief.
“Better?”
“A bit, thanks. I’m still really sore.”
Grinning, he takes hold of my thighs and spreads my legs. “Maybe I can distract you from the rest.”
It’s about damn time. My engine has been idling for hours.
“Damn, you’re so fucking wet, Quinn. It’s been like this all day, hasn’t it?
“Mostly,” I admit, my cheeks flushing.
“Freak,” he chuckles.
“Screw y-” A gasp ends my retort as Reed’s tongue invades my crevice. I cover my mouth with a hand, moaning into it with abandon. After what I’ve been through today, this feels so good, especially since all I have to do is lie here and enjoy it.
Electrifying my senses with long, hard strokes, he pins me down tightly, ensuring I can’t squirm too much. At first I don’t mean to, but when he starts working my clit, the overwhelming euphoria makes me wrench against his grip. His tongue circles the sensitive spot first slowly, then quickly, driving me wild. Reed varies his speed and technique, stimulating me close to the point of climaxing, but always pulling back before I get there.
“Oh, please let me come,” I groan, undulating my hips.
Reed grunts in amusement. He takes one of his hands off my thighs and grabs my ass instead, squeezing my cheek and eliciting fresh surges of pain. The sting feeds my already intense arousal, increasing my desperate need for release.
“I’ll tell you when you can come,” he says.
Moaning, I nod in agreement, though I don’t know if he’s looking. I couldn’t string together a sentence right now if I wanted to, I’m so blasted by stimulation.
Reed uses both hands to spread my swollen lips, then dances his tongue across my clit. The orgasm welling up within fights to be unleashed; I struggle to keep it at bay, though I don’t want to. Reed has never ordered me to suppress an orgasm before — he’s never dominated me in such a tantalizing way. The pleasure of obeying him makes my need for satisfaction even deeper. He didn’t say what the consequence would be of coming without permission — perhaps there isn’t one. But maybe, if I do as he asks, he’ll reward me in some way. I definitely want to find out.
Yet, my screams are rising higher and higher, and I know I won’t be able to hold out much longer. Reed’s tongue doesn’t stop for a moment.
“Please!” I beg. “I can’t-”
“Hold it!” he says, barely interrupting his rhythm.
I moan, twisting in place. Grasping the blanket in my hands and teeth, I scream into the fabric, wetting it with my tears.
“Okay, Quinn. You can come.”
I let the dam break, an eruption of ecstasy that drives all the pain from my body. Reed keeps stroking my sensitive flesh, lifting me higher and higher. An entire day of nearly unending torment evaporates in my mind, replaced with bliss, and the joy of complying with Reed’s demand.
Lost in subspace, I lose my composure for a time, drifting in and out of consciousness. When I come to, the afterglow still fills my body with an intense buzz, though I can feel soreness creeping back into the periphery of my perception.
“Welcome back, Quinn.”
Reed sits up on the bed next to me.
“Hey,” I groan, relishing the many varied sensations awakening throughout my body.
“So were you suitably distracted from the pain?” he asks, tapping my backside and grinning.
“Oh, I was,” I reply. “It’s starting to come back though. Maybe I could use a little more?”
Reed chuckles, pulling off his shirt. “Is that so? Your ass still hurting?”
“Big time.”
He leans down and kisses one of the bruises. “Better?”
I laugh. “Not really. Got anything else?”
He nods. “Yes. Get on all fours, and close your eyes.”
My pussy clenches, eager to comply with his orders. I can already feel my juices gathering, ready to start building another explosive orgasm.
I hear Reed open a drawer and then return to the bed. Then I feel a sharp new pain coming from my erect nipples. Opening my eyes, I see he’s attached a pair of clamps to my breasts, pinching hard.
“What’s this?” I groan.
“A distraction. Now you won’t think about your ass as much,” he explains, smirking.
“That’s not funny,” I whimper. “I thought you meant-”
He kisses me, holding my face to his.
That’s better, I muse, enjoying the touch of his lips. Tasting my sex on his tongue, I tremble in place, consumed with need. More importantly, though, is the need I feel coming from him, in his embrace. It’s easy for me to forget Reed is capable of tenderness. He doesn’t show it much. Considering the nature of his job, he’s probably not revealing that side of himself very often. Considering the situation we find ourselves in, it’s likely wise he doesn’t.
“I know what you meant,” he says at last. “Don’t worry, I think you’ll like this next distraction.”
I smile, feeling my toes curl in anticipation. He doesn’t tell me to close my eyes again, so I watch as he picks out from the drawer a thick, black rubber buttplug and a bottle of oil.
“Oh fuck,” I huff, both excited and nervous. I’ve learned to enjoy the sting of being penetrated there, but judging by the tent in Reed’s pants, the plug isn’t all he has in mind.
Reed oils up the toy and my tight hole, then presses the plug to my tight tip. I relax, letting the toy sink in without too much resistance. Now that I’ve learned I can tolerate and even enjoy having my ass filled, I don’t tense up at the prospect. Despite this, Reed still presses it in rather slowly, allowing me time to adjust as it sinks deeper. Once the widest part of the plug passes through my tight muscle, the rest slides in easily.
After wiping the excess oil from his hand with a rag, Reed unzips his pants and climbs onto the bed behind me. He caresses my pussy with two fingers, sliding them into my folds.
“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” he asks.
“Yes, sir,” I purr.
“Then I’ll make you a promise: if you keep getting punished all day, I’ll make it better every night.”
“I can live with that,” I say.
“Good.”
Then Reed withdraws his fingers and guides his cock up to my drenched entrance. My inner walls close hungrily on his thick rod as it plunges inside. His cock presses against the plug in my ass from within, evoking wave after wave of exquisite rapture.
Groaning in his own pleasure, Reed thrusts into me like a machine, hammering harder and harder. His cock feels like a steel rod, filling me completely. He grips my shoulders, using his strong hands to keep me still as he bucks his body into mine. Being taken from behind, I feel utterly used, but I love it.
As his pounding gets faster, I start to howl, my voice rising in pitch and volume like a boiling kettle. My shriek hits a crescendo when Reed reaches around and tugs on my nipple clamps, reminding me of their presence with a renewed burst of pain. Laughing at my reaction, Reed smacks my ass a few times, which inflames the bruises from my whipping and impacts the buttplug, eliciting too many sensations for me to process all at once; it all becomes a blur of pleasure and pain until I can barely tell the two apart.
“Can I come?” I mumble, rapidly approaching the brink of my next orgasm. “Can I-”
“Sure,” Reed grunts, raising his rhythm even faster.
Grateful, I dive into the tide of ecstasy that flows out from my core and into every part of me. I start to scream, loudly and without any self-awareness. For some reason, Reed stops for a moment; when I turn to look, he’s reaching over the side of the bed for something: my panties. Grinning, he stuffs the sodden garment into my mouth, then seals his palm over my lips.
Oh, fucking hell!
Musty from hours of pent-up arousal, the overpowering taste repulses me. Yet, my orgasm rises even higher, spurred on by my helplessness in this moment — dominated by Reed, totally in his control — all of my holes in use, a well of pain hiding in the background… it’s fucked up, and it’s perfect.
Reed plows the length of his massive cock all the way in and tugs at the buttplug, and I can’t take any more. My orgasm hits such a high peak that I climb back into subspace. In the back of my mind I can still feel every source of pleasure — every touch, thrust, tug and slap — but now I’m above it all, fed by its seemingly endless energy.
I’m so high on bliss I barely register Reed’s climax, but I feel his hot seed burst inside me, and I hear his euphoric grunts as he milks out every last drop. He turns me over and lays me down against his body, holding me against him as we ride out the pleasure. Silent aside from our breathing, we feel at peace — as though the whole world is this room and none of the misery outside it can bother us.
As soon as I think about it, though, it all comes back. Prescott and Byron and Jefferson. Edwin and Hunter. Jacqueline and Amber. All of them living out this moment somewhere else, and none of them experiencing the same love and pleasure as Reed and I. Guilt claims the remainder of my satisfied glow, wishing the other women could have some hope for our futures. They don’t have Reed to comfort them — if anything, they see him the way I see Prescott and the others.
“Reed, can I ask you something?” I could use a glass of water and some more ointment for my skin, but I’m too exhausted to move.
“Anything,” he says, giving my body a soft squeeze and kissing my neck.
“How do I know this is for real?” I ask, thinking about Amber’s warning. “When we’re together, what we have feels real, and I want to believe that it is, but how can I be sure? You’ve been working here for years, and what you’ve done to the other women…”
Reed nods and rubs my shoulders. “I understand, Quinn. My actions in the past… I felt I was doing something just. I was tormenting killers and criminals, and ensuring they can’t hurt anyone else. That’s what Prescott told me, and I believed him. But now, I’m seeing things differently, thanks to you. I don’t know if what I’ve done can be forgiven, or what I’m going to do about Prescott. My world doesn’t make a lot of sense right now.”
Prescott? What else is there to do but either kill him or expose his crimes to the world?
“What do you mean? What doesn’t make sense?”
Reed sighs and brushes back my hair. “I’ll try to explain.”