Prelude 3 (ii)

Prelude 3 (ii)
She barely cared. Her eyes were closed and she was trying to go back to her calm zone. The lashes felt really painful. She focused on getting her breathing back to deep and regular. She wasn’t moving at all because even tiny movements meant a stretched skin here or there and triggered more pain. She remained quiet. 
She heard a door opening and closing. Someone came in but she couldn't see from her position. There was a noise of something being placed on the surface of something, then whoever it was left without exchanging a word with the man with her. There were a few more subtle noises before she started to smell the aroma of candle sticks which lights had started to alter the mood in the room near the bed. Someone climbed up the bed because it moved. The cloth was removed and cool air replaced it on her feverish skin. He held a cheek of her butt and softly squeezed it, then slightly slapped it with his open palm. Her whole body tensed, her teeth gritted, at the flame of pain that it caused her back.
“Bree?”
“Thank you! Thank you!” She felt his kiss at the spot he had hit. “Thank you…”
“It’s Liam. You can call me Liam.”
Her eyes got hot. Liam. She was truly grateful. “Thank you, Liam… you just don’t know how much I needed this.”
“I do, Bree. More than you know. Don’t worry… I’ll take care of you,” he said, sincerity and sympathy in his voice. “I’ll make it worth the pain.”
“Thank you…”
“Liam.”
“Thank you, Liam.”
“You’re welcome, Bree.”
He spread her butt-cheeks then, and a long finger slid between the wet cavity of her pussy. Her eyes went wide open. No prep. But she was ready. She had been dripping at the sixth lash of the whip on her back. Her eyes rolled as that finger withdrew from her, and almost moaned when they came back two. 
My god… the sensations that surged at her. Pleasure-pain, it was. She was moaning until her teeth caught her lower lip as his fingers started a rhythm of thrusting in and out her pussy lips. She started to flood. 
“You’re soaking, Bree,” Liam said. “Let me just taste some of this glistening honey.” And again, she felt his tongue on her and she just couldn’t control a moan that ended with a sob. “What’s my name?”
“Liam… Thank you, Liam… oohhh, Liam…”
“Hmmm… delicious.”
“Oh God…”
“Scream my name, not god’s,” he commanded, his voice and movement indicating he straightened up.
She did. “Liam!”
And her eyes almost crossed when she felt his hot, rigid cock penetrate her from the back, in that position that was just right for this kind of penetration. Thoughts flew out of her head and she was only aware of her body’s carnal reaction as he possessed her, stretched her quivering inner walls, invading her deeply until he had buried himself inside her to the hilt. She didn’t even know it was her cries that she could hear because as soon as he filled her so satisfactorilly, so perfectly and completely like that, she was cumming.
“What’s my name, Bree?”
“Liam! Thank you… oh, God, Liam, thank you!” she managed to cry when she could.
“You feel so good… so tight… Bree, you make me feel so good,” he groaned as he continued his hard and full thrusts. And after just a few more strokes, she was cumming again. She was again screaming his name, sobbing and telling him how grateful he was. Oh god, her back hurt so much but she had never felt that acute pleasure, too, at being rammed so well, and it was the only thing that filled her mind, her whole being, in the next moments, and the next hours, of the whole night. She had stopped counting orgasms, how many times Liam had brought her to completion, but she had never cum so hard and so much. A slight slap, the stretching of her back, sweat dripping off her skin, with him sliding inside her again, and she was quaking again with an incoming climax. It was everything… the aroma of candles, the lacerations on her back, the line up of soprano arias playing on the speakers, and his strokes and his voice and his cock, that had her tirelessly cumming. It felt like she had reached plateaus more than a hundred times, while blood trickled from her wounds, and pain shot up her body at every push and pull…
She remembered feeling so weak much, much later. She remembered crashing, or she might have fainted, in her exhaustion, to be awakened by the smell of antiseptic and the delicious smell of steak. Liam fed her, and then he was inside her again, making her quiver, and quake, and cum and cum and cum…
Until cum became trauma and she was throwing up from overuse. That was when he stopped, and doctored her, and drugged her so she would fall deeply asleep. Supposedly to completely heal.
But she could not heal from this fixation. She would be alright for a few weeks, and then she would need pain so badly that when it happens, she would be cumming for the sheer bliss of hurting. She would need this so badly that she would try to kill herself if she didn’t get to indulge her inner freak.
That’s why there was a Secret Sins Club, for people like her. 
For people like Bree who could never be free.

“AYYY… wait, wait. Let’s stop. Stop…” The overweight woman stepped aside from the jogging trail in the woods and leaned against a tree. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her right hand before fanning herself. “Haaaay. Whose bright idea was it to come here? Why did I get dragged into this again?”
Her jogging companion, a woman who had run ahead on the trail, jogged back with a grin. “Because you have a crush who only dates sexy—slim—women? C’mon, Betty. We’re almost done. Then you can have breakfast.”
“Breakfast? My tongue’s already hanging out, Lorna. I don’t know if I can make it out!” Betty wailed, almost in tears.
Lorna reached out and grabbed Betty's arm, trying to pull her along. But Betty was heavy, and Lorna momentarily lost her balance, bracing herself against the tree trunk. The two of them laughed.
“What about being really heavy can you not understand?” teased Betty.
Lorna was about to respond but suddenly stopped. She crinkled her nose. “Why does it smell so bad? Like something rotten. Ugh. Maybe a dead animal is around here.” She covered her nose and mouth with her hand while her eyes searched for the source of the smell.
“Oh, you’re right. Where is it? My god!” Betty now covered her mouth and nose with her hand.
“Because you moved these,” Lorna said, pointing to some rocks stacked at the side of the trail. The ones on top had rolled to the side. But then she froze, staring at where the rocks and sand had tumbled. “Be-Betty? Do-Do you see what I see…?”
Next to her, Betty was motionless. She touched Betty’s arm, finding it cold.
Because Betty was also staring at the ground–at the naked shoulder of a rotting corpse protruding from the dirt and dry leaves on the forest floor. Chunks of her—definitely female—long hair were entangled with the roots of the tree they were both leaning on, dirty and dry and coming off the rotting head that lay face down on the earth.
The friends screamed simultaneously before turning and running, Betty leading the way in sheer terror…