The spy (3)

My fantasy is cut short when a leather whip makes contact with my skin, and my body jerks forward from the unexpected pain. Dang! I guess they are really serious about doing things the hard way. But this pain is nothing to me. I know I’ve got this.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the walking Thirst Trap says, folding the whip in half and running it on my thigh in a way that makes me swallow involuntarily. “We are the Petrov brothers, but from now on, you address us as sir. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Another whip lands across my back.

“Yes, sir,” I shout, curling my toes as pain spreads across my body. He hit me good. But as soon as the pain subsides, a wave of heat washes over me in a way that has never happened before.

“Good girl,” he praises, running his fingers along my neck and squeeing my throat lightly. Heat rushes down between my legs, and my breath hitches. This is new. I’ve never felt anything like this. Out of instinct, I try forcing my legs closed to contain the new sensations I’m feeling, but I can’t move. My legs are strapped wide open to the chair.

Snap!

Another whip lands on the top part of my bum where it meets the chair, and a scream escapes me. First Guy is doing the whipping this time, and he must have gone all out because the pain makes tears prickle my eyes.

“Tap out is your safe word,” he says, squeezing my chin in his hand and tilting it up. “Once you say that, all this stops, and you tell us everything.” As he speaks, the pain fades as heat rushes back with the same intensity. Moisture starts to gather between my legs. My confidence falters, and for the first time, I’m unsure of myself. He smiles at my inner turmoil as Thirst Trap trails a finger up my bare thighs. “Do you want to tap out now?” the First Guy asks, leaning down to nibble on my slightly parted lips.

“No!” I reply way too fast for my liking. Shame washes over me because I don’t want to tap out, not because of my work ethic, but for other reasons. I don’t want this new sensation to end.

“No, what?” A whip lands across my back.

“No, sir,” I correct myself as a mischievous smile tugs my lips. I’m loving this game. If they think they are getting information out of me this way, they are dead wrong. “Is this all you’ve got?”

“No, sunshine, we are just getting started,” the First Guy says, and excitement courses through me. I want to see how far they can go. He turns to Thirst Trap, who seems too engrossed in the feeling of my smooth skin under his fingertips. “Set the mood.”

Thirst Trap takes his hands off me and gets up, making me whimper at the sudden loss of contact. I want his hands back on my bare thighs. He smiles at my reaction and spanks my ass. “Easy, princess. We have all day,” he says, tugging at my already taut nipples before disappearing behind the door.

The First Guy trails his hand along my inner thigh, making me feel goosebumps all over. How did I not know this could feel so good? His hand stops right at my center, making me gasp. He strokes my little bean gently, and my toes curl at the pleasure that rushes through me. I tilt my hips forward, wanting to get more of his finger in the place I’m itching for him the most, and I can barely stifle a moan.

“So responsive,” he says, removing his hand from between my legs, and I bite back a protest at the loss of him, too. I want this. I’m itching for relief, and he isn’t giving me what I want. I’m on the verge of begging, but not yet. I’m stronger than that. He smiles at my reaction, and I want to slap that smug smile off his face. This is turning out to be torture I had never imagined. He is intentionally teasing me and, from the look on his face, he’s enjoying it.

He takes a step behind me and wraps his hand around my neck, tilting my head back such that I’m looking at his face while he towers me. My mouth involuntarily opens, and he sticks one of his fingers inside while his other hand finds my boob. He kneads and squeezes it, tugging at my nipples hard. I maintain eye contact as a wave of pleasure spreads through me and heat concentrates between my legs. He presses himself against me, and I can feel his fairly hard cock in his pants on my back. God, I’m turning him on as well.

Thirst Trap returns carrying a bunch of things that look like sticks, but I quickly recognize those as a special type of incense. I’ve seen those in the black market while I was on a mission. I don’t know the specifics, but I do know they’ve been used for centuries as mild aphrodisiacs. Why are they doing this, though? I’m already longing for them, and I’m doing fine without this type of assistance. Why would they need it? Something tells me this is not as simple as it seems.

He places the incense sticks in specific locations and, with a flick of a lighter, each one comes to life. Small tendrils of smoke rise into the air, and a pleasant smell drifts into my nose. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the sweet scent of sandalwood and something else I can’t name.

But with each inhale, the tension in my muscles eases, and everything relaxes. Not a very good sign when you are in enemy territory. Do I care right now? No. Warmth spreads on my skin in a pleasant way, and all my senses are heightened. Every little sound, touch, or smell is magnified in a way that has never happened before. I close my eyes and lean more into First Guy’s touch as my chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. Whatever is in that incense is working. And fast.