#dark tea

Your throat was unbearably dry, and no amount of swallowing was helping in anyway. Perhaps you had already cried out all the spare water you could.

“Move.” Another slash to the back of your still extended leg made you wince and quickly do as you were told, kneeling fully on the two thin benches in front of the stockade.

Feitan didn’t say anything else for a moment as he locked cold shackles around each of your ankles, causing your naked body to tremble from the chill and fear while you waited for his next instruction with growing anxiety. A speck of red on the neck rest of the stockade caught your eye and you shook harder.

Was that blood?

Your eyes trailed the rough wood noticing several spots of red. Several larger pools of red on the leg benches caught your attention before the dark-haired male appeared before you. Just as several times before, you hadn’t heard him move at all.

Grey eyes stared at you, no trace of human remorse to be found in them, as he lifted the stockade top open. Half circles waited like open mouths in front of you, and you shook your head. “No,” you finally managed, the one word harsh in your throat.

A single eyebrow raised at your defiance. Your lips trembled as Feitan stared hard into your eyes. The thought of what he would do if you kept him waiting much longer finally spurred you into action. Unwillingly, you leaned forward. Each hand gripping the wrist slots for stability as you slowly lowered your neck into position.

“Good,” Feitan praised, though it didn’t make you feel very happy. It just made you feel slightly less fearful of his wrath. “Wrists now,” he instructed.

It was agonizing to move your fingers and rest your delicate joints into the little divots. Your legs had to take all of your body weight so that you didn’t push down too hard on your wrists and neck. As Feitan brought the top of the stock down into place you bit your lip already feeling the wood bite into your knees. Nothing about this situation had been comfortable before, but now you were in actual slow building pain.

The click of a lock made your legs tremble again as you carefully lifted your head to glimpse Feitan in an attempt to try and read what he had in mind. But as before, it was impossible to get a read on the man. His high collar hid most of his face, and what you could see of it was so stone cold that there was nothing you could even hope to gleam off of it.

A swish cut the air and you tried to turn your head more in an attempt to see what was in Feitan’s hand that disappeared just out of the reach of your vision. The stockade blocked his entire arm, and looking back into his face you could now read something in his eyes. Glee.

The nothing was better, you decided. The childlike glee you could feel coming from the way Feitan looked at you while you shook with fear was too horrible.

After your next blink he was gone. Erratically, your eyes shifted around the mostly empty room, trying to catch glimpses of the man. Then, a red hot ache sliced through your side. This was nothing like the feeling of the switch that you had been hit with before. It was sharp and you could feel blood well up on the wound.

He had cut you.

Feitan had actually cut into your flesh.

“No scream? Impressive,” Feitan muttered, the sound of his voice hard to pin-point in the small room.

Taking your lack of scream as a challenge, Feitan touched the cold tip of a knife to the side of your breast. You sucked in a mouth of air, clamping your teeth together tightly as he slid the knife down in an arc. Still you didn’t scream, but you hissed as the especially thin cut burned against your skin.

“How much, until you scream?” he asked with a curious tone in his voice, his cruelty somehow still clear despite his slightly awkward words.

Warm breath against the fresh cut made you shake again. “Curious,” he muttered before the feeling of a wet tongue slid along your breast.

“Stop,” you whimpered, wrists straining against the stock as you squirmed with discomfort.

“Stop? Why?” Feitan sounded almost genuinely curious as he ran a finger against the bleeding wound in your side. “Are you not having fun?”

You almost yowled as a finger slid into the wound. It wasn’t wide enough for Feitan to prod too deeply, but the invasion into your body was still striking and you groaned to keep from screaming.

As his finger rubbed the wound, another hand cupped your sex. Expertly, he palmed the outside of your pussy to the same rhythm he prodded your wound. White spots formed on your vision as you struggled to keep silent. “Having fun now?” he asked, an amused tone in his voice now.

The finger left your wound, and one finger slipped into your folds to brush against your clit teasingly. You groaned again, thighs shaking from the sensation of being toyed with as your knees howled in strain from the prolonged weight on rough boards. “Should have known. This is the only excitement a slut can have.”

You wanted to reply, to tell him he was wrong, but your words were cut short as the feeling of Feitan’s blade slid along your inner thigh. Without more than a second of pause it slid against the opposite thigh at a different angle and you had to bite your lower lip to keep quiet as possible, only the low groan occasionally escaping. You didn’t realize it until that moment but you were determined to not let him have this one thing. He already was free to take whatever he wanted, do whatever he wanted.

This was the only thing you could keep from him. The only thing that you could deny him fully.

But somehow you got the sense that Feitan wasn’t bothered at all as his hand continued to work your clit with more pressure and vigor while his other hand went between your thighs and rubbed against the open wounds that were trickling blood.

The pain was only offset by the strange sensation of wet on your thighs that you had never felt before. Some part of your brain thought that perhaps you had pissed yourself, that being the only other comparable thing it could equate the sensation to.

Feitan slapped your ass with the hand that had been rubbing your bloody thighs and you gasped. You hadn’t been expecting such a normal sting in this moment, and it shocked you enough you almost let your voice go free from the surprise.

‘No, I gotta focus. I can’t let him have this one thing,’ you thought with determination as you tried uselessly to shift your legs as more of your body throbbed due to your awkward position.

“You’re wet.” His finger slid from your clit to your opening with ease and you sighed at the pleasurable sensation. “Maybe it is fun now?”

“N-no,” you replied, words becoming harder as your breathing was growing more labored.

Your thighs were in such pain from the bleeding cuts that the pleasure you gained from Feitan’s fingers barely registered.

He slipped a curious finger inside of you and you groaned, pulling against the stockade and making your wrists ache from the effort. Interested, he put a second finger inside as well. You held your breath as he pumped his fingers in and out of you a few times, whimpering but keeping the sounds as quiet as you possibly could.

If you thought the assault of his fingers was horrible, the absence of them was somehow worse you realized as he slipped them back out. But it gave you a pause to try and breathe. It was harsh against your dry throat but it helped refocus you as Feitan walked casually to your face once more.

His coat was gone, exposing his muscular chest and arms. It could have been attractive, if he wasn’t cutting into you like a madman and finger fucking you.

“See?” he asked, bringing his fingers close to your face for your inspection. Two of them were slick with your juices, and when he spread them you could see the fluid stretch between the digits. You felt sick and embarrassed at how your body betrayed you. “You lie,” he said, cupping your face with the hand that was covered in your blood. The wet sticky feeling against your chin was nauseating.

“Scream, and maybe I’ll let you go,” he offered with a nonchalant shrug.

If you had any saliva in your mouth, you would have spat at him. But as things were, you could only glare.

“Fine,” he said, releasing your face. “I enjoy challenge.”

Every muscle in your body tensed as he ran the blade against your inner thighs over and over again. You bit into your lip, trying to fight to keep your last whisper of dignity as Feitan made a mess of your poor legs.

When he finally stopped you let your lower lip go to pant, not realizing you had been holding your breath the entire time. Blood dripped off your lip and you wanted to cry real tears as you tasted copper in your mouth. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as your thighs, but it felt like a final straw on what your mind could take.

But Feitan wasn’t done pushing your mental limits.

The moment for you to breathe and recollect was too quickly over as the benches your legs were strapped to were pushed together suddenly. The feeling of your burning thighs being pushed together was horrible, but what was worse was Feitan’s erect dick slipping easily between them.

Your blood provided enough of a wet lubrication for Feitan to thrust into your thighs without issue. The friction of his skin rubbing along your wounds was somehow worse than the initial pain of each cut. The mixture of angles at which the skin was sliced guaranteed that each thrust into your thighs pressed some open and rubbed excruciatingly along others.

A quiet cry escaped before you could clamp down on your lower lip again, hands balled into fists as you tried to focus past the pain. There was a tiny amount of pleasure in his action as his dick slid against your clit from time to time, and with nothing else to focus on this became the thin string of sanity to cling to.

With eyes squeezed tight, you focused on that single sensation as he slammed his hips forward again and again. More often he was slipping upward and brushing your clit and you drank in each and every tiny bit of pleasure you could get from it.

Meanwhile Feitan’s dick was growing firmer. You could feel it as your bloodied thighs squeezed down. ‘Please,’ you asked no one, ‘Please just let him cum and it all be over.’

Your sense of time was completely messed up as you endured the agony. Each time he slid through your thighs was like a second and a minute at the same time. And when a new feeling of warmth splashed onto your thighs you thought it would be over. But he continued to thrust as he came, rubbing the cum into your wounds and you finally screamed.

The pain that shot through your body was undeniable as the invasive body fluid was rubbed into several of your wounds at once and you could no longer control your voice.

If your body could have gone limp, you know it would have as Feitan pulled away from you. Every part of you felt used up and exhausted, but your position on the device ensured no rest.

Feitan sighed, sounding as if he had been forced to put forth more effort than he had anticipated or wanted. A hand ran down your bloody and cum covered thighs and you whimpered at the feeling.