The Sacrifice: Chapter 45
I yank on the rope, but it’s useless. She didn’t tie them incredibly tight; I’ve just got whatever she gave me still in my system. So I’m going to have to get out a different way.
Bending over, I pick the back two legs up off the floor and slam them down, breaking them in the process, and the rope falls off my wrists. The room still sways a little, but I’m able to stand and have full function of my limbs.
I run out of the formal dining room just as she looks over her shoulder, hearing me. She screams out as I grab her hair and yank her to me, spinning her around to face me.
Holding her hair, I shove her face into my cum-covered chest, smearing it all over her. Then pull back on her hair. “That’s more like it.”
Her eyes are closed, face scrunched. I drag her back into the room and shove her facedown over the side of the table. Reaching down, I grab the rope and double it over, making a quick single-column tie along her forearms, her arms parallel to each other. I allow the excess to fall down her back, knowing I’ll need the extra rope. If done correctly, it’ll look like a snake head with a hissing tongue—a loop at the top—that I will also need to use.
I slap her ass hard enough to leave an instant print. “My turn.”
I wish I could say I didn’t like what she did to me. I’m not a fan of not being in control, but my cock has a mind of its own, and when she dropped to her knees, I couldn’t stop how hard I got if I tried. It had been too long. Almost three weeks and I couldn’t hold out anymore.
She knew exactly what she was doing. And I’m going to remind her who’s in charge.
I walk out of the formal dining room and back to my study. I open the safe and grab something that I’m going to need and head back to the formal dining room.
Walking around the table to where her head is, I gather up all her hair and some sticks to her wet face. I gather it at the back of her neck and tie it with a rubber band that I grabbed off my desk to get it all out of the way. I’m going to use it. Reaching into my pocket, I remove the shorter piece of rope, making a slip knot and wrapping it around the rubber band in her hair, and then separate the two pieces, wrapping it around it again to tie it off. I yank on the rope, lifting her head in the process and making her hiss in a sharp breath, and I tie it off to the rope around her arms, securing her head in place and up off the table.
I lean down, lowering my face to her level. She’s breathing heavily through her nose, her eyes still closed. “Look at me,” I order.
She keeps her eyes closed, and I reach up, slapping the side of her face. Not hard enough to leave a handprint but definitely enough to sting. She whimpers, opening them up and then closing them just as quickly.
“I won’t say it twice, Lake,” I warn.
Prying them open, she blinks rapidly. Cum covers her lids and lashes.
“I hear cum burns the eyes,” I say. “Let me help with that.” I take the napkin off the table and wipe both of her eyes roughly, wiping some of it away but not all of it off. “Now look at me.”
Her eyes flutter open, and they land on mine. They’re red, irritated. I reach up, grip her chin, and squeeze, forcing a whimper out of her lips. “Leave them open,” I order, then wipe what little cum covers her nose to clean the area. I need it dry for this to work. Lifting the metal clamp, I place it over her now clean nose, blocking her air.
Her lips part, sucking in a breath. “Tyson,” she cries. “I’m sorry.”
“You will be,” I tell her, and she sobs, fighting the restraints.
I shove two fingers into her mouth, moving them around, and she sticks her tongue out. “I’m going to fucking remind you who I am, Lake.” I’ve been soft on her. Taking it easy, forgetting why I married her in the first place—to make her my slut.
She gags when my fingers reach the back of her throat, her body jerking.
I stand up and grab one of the candles out of its holder and then lean back down. I slide it in her mouth, and her eyes widen as I hold it in place. It’s not quite at the back of her throat, but it’s close. “Bite down,” I order. “Gently.”
She closes her teeth around it, spreading her lips wide open in order to breathe around it since I took away her ability to breathe through her nose. “Do not bite through this candle, Lake. Or I will punish you.”
She whimpers, tears forming in her eyes.
I stand and grab another candle that hasn’t been lit yet. I run it along her cheek, picking up the excess cum, coating the end of the candle, then walk behind her. I hold it in one hand while the other goes to her pussy, running my fingers over it. She moans, and I easily slide two into her cunt. “Look how wet my little whore is. Did sucking my cock get you all worked up, darling?”
She whimpers, and I remove them before opening her wide and running the cum-covered candle over her wet cunt. Then I very slowly push it a couple of inches inside her. “Don’t let that fall,” I order and watch her thighs tighten, knowing she’s holding it in place.
She’ll remember this lesson for days to come. I’m going to make sure she’s sore as fuck. Every muscle clenched and well aware of her punishment.
I undo my belt from around my slacks and yank it free of the loops. I fold it over and slap it across her ass, making sure to avoid hitting the candle sticking out of her pussy.
Her body tenses, and a cry fills the room. I do it again in the same spot watching the red mark cover her flawless skin. I do it again, lower this time across her thighs.
She’s sobbing around the candle now, and I drop the belt to the table next to her and pick up another candle that is lit.
“I love that you brought home the candles from our wedding,” I inform her. “We can put them to good use,” I say even though I know her mother sent them with her stuff. Bringing it to hover over her ass, I tilt it, allowing the wax to drip where I just smacked her. Letting it burn her already irritated skin.
She screams, legs jerking.
I tilt it again and let it drip over the other cheek.
She’s shaking, her cries filling the room, and I lower the lit candle under the one inside her pussy, lighting it.
I plop down in the chair and watch her body shake, watching the flame grow higher. It will start dripping down her legs and onto her skin. It’s going to burn like a bitch. They make candles for this specific reason—wax play. But that’s not what this is about. It’s supposed to teach her a lesson.
LAIKYN
I taste the wax from the candle in my mouth, my teeth leaving bite marks in it. I try to concentrate on not biting through it like he said, but it’s so hard not to. My ass is on fire from his belt, and my pussy is clenched as tight as I can, trying not to drop the candle. It’s lit. I can feel the heat. I’d rather not burn my legs if I drop it.
I told him I was sorry, and he said I would be. I should have never thought I’d get away with what I did. It’s not like I was going to run away. I have nowhere to go. It was just to show him that I could be a dick too. Guess he’s proving me wrong.
My neck is pulled back at an odd angle by my hair, I have a headache, and my shoulders are screaming from how tight my arms are secured behind my back.
Blinking, I see him come to stand in front of me with a knife in his right hand. He leans down, eye level with me, and he holds the tip to my cheek. Drool slips out of the corner of my lips from how I have to hold my mouth open.
He slides the blade down the side of my face ever so gently. I feel the sharp edge cutting away his cum from earlier. “I wish you could see how pretty you look with my cum covering your face while you cry.”
I hate that he tells me I’m pretty when I know I look the worst. It makes me feel special. Something that I know I’m not.
I cry out when I feel the first drip of wax from the candle that is in my pussy fall onto my thigh. My legs shake.
Standing, he walks out of sight, and my pussy clenches when he pulls on the candle inside me, trying to hold it in so it doesn’t fall and burn my leg. But when I realize he’s removing it, I relax a little.
The tip of his cock pushing against my cunt makes me whimper. His hand slaps my ass that is already on fire from his belt, and my body jerks, fighting the restraints.
He pushes into me, hard and fast, shoving my hips into the side of the table, making me scream around the candle that’s still in my mouth. He doesn’t take it slow or gentle.
He’s brutal, fucking me as a punishment. I’d beg him to let me come if I could, but instead, I just take it like the good girl I want to be.
His body slaps mine, hitting my burned and reddened ass. It hurts in the best way. My pussy is dripping as much as the wax on the end of the candle that hangs from my mouth. If I could beg him, I would, but I’m unable to. Fuck, I’d crawl to him right now if he’d give me the chance. Anything to show him how devoted I can be. A promise that I’m going to willingly be his.
Men like Tyson Crawford need a sacrifice, and he’s made me realize that I’d willingly be that for him. I’ve become addicted to his touch, the sound of his voice, and the way he fucks me…Goddamn, it’s unholy. But I’d gladly kneel for my Lord and let him use me however he wants.
He shoves his cock into me and lowers his body over my back, pinning my tied arms between us. The action makes me arch my neck even more since my hair is connected to them. I cry out around the candle and watch the wax start to run down from the lit end that is now up in the air.
He removes the clip from my nose, and I suck in a deep breath just as his hand grips my throat. I can hear his heavy breathing in my ear. It makes my pussy tighten around him, and he growls, his hand tightening, taking what little air I had away. I don’t try to fight him. No need to. I live for my Lord, and I trust him with my life. “You feel so good, little darling.” Pulling his cock out, he shoves it forward, the table rattling from his force. Tears slip from my bottom lashes while I feel the drool run down my chin. “Goddamn, Lake.” He does it again, and my vision starts to blur from his hand around my throat.
He begins to fuck me hard, slamming my hips into the edge of the table while I start to feel light-headed. My skin tingles, every muscle pulled tight, and my mouth starts to go slack, the candle slipping from my lips.
Tyson’s voice is in my ear, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. The room is spinning, my eyes growing heavy. I’m floating, and heat rushes over me, making me shiver.
Just as my eyes fall closed, he lets go of my neck, and I’m soaring as the orgasm takes over me. I’ve never come so hard before. It’s euphoric. Dots dance in my vision, my body shakes uncontrollably, and I’m gasping when I come back to reality.
I don’t have the strength to open my eyes, but I feel the rope being removed and my husband lifting me off the table and into his arms. I lie in them, a smile on my face and wondering what I can do to be punished again. Because I’ve come to terms with being disobedient so he can remind me that he owns me.
We’re lying on our bed and he’s softly running his fingers along the red marks on my ass. “Where did you get the drugs?” he asks.
“They were the drugs you were going to use on me,” I answer honestly. Don’t want him mad at me for buying drugs. If he hadn’t had them, I wouldn’t have found them.
His hand pauses, and his eyes meet mine. “I was never going to drug you.”
“I found them in the bedroom.” His frown deepens. “Here in the spare room. They were in the bag from our honeymoon suite.”
He lies still as a statue, eyes on mine.
“What is it?” I ask, sitting up.
“Nothing,” he answers softly.
“Tyson?” I ask as he gets up off the bed.
“Lake, I never had drugs with me that day or since then.”
“The basement…”
“I have them in the basement in case I need to use them on someone, but I’ve never purchased any type of drug that I planned specifically to use on you,” he growls.
“So how did they get here?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he answers.
“Quit lying to me.”
“Lake—”
“God, do you think I’m this fucking stupid?” I get to my feet as well, ignoring the tightness in my muscles from what he did to me in the dining room. “Do you really think that I’ll believe everything you say?”
His jaw ticks, and he looks away from me. I slowly walk over to him and cup his face. “Tell me. I can handle it. Promise.”
His eyes search mine, and I hold my breath. “Luke.”
I frown. “What does he have to do with this?”
“He was there at the hotel earlier that day before the wedding. They must have belonged to him.”
My hand drops from his face, and I take a step back, my breath catching in my throat. “He was going to drug me?” I whisper. “How…” I swallow. “How do you know he was there?”
“I followed him,” he says truthfully. “Watched him for days leading up to the wedding. He was there that morning when he dropped off your bag that your mom had made for him.”
I go to open my mouth to ask if he killed Luke, but I decide not to. Of course, he did. It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s long gone. Men like Tyson don’t have competition. They eliminate anyone in their way.