***
Between the pure goodness of light, and the pure evil of dark, lies the beauty of the realm of shadow. Pain, when inflicted properly, can lead to indescribable pleasure; pleasure, when pushed too far, can cross pain's threshold. Come, my friends...Let's throw away the safety of remaining in the light. Let's avoid the terror of walking in complete darkness. Come, my friends...walk in the shadows with me.***
Terror.
Pure, unadulterated terror freezing her muscles, freezing her lungs even as they begged for another breath, freezing her protests in her throat so that the only thing issuing forth were frightened little whimpers. Her mind was screaming in denial until her inner voice was hoarse with the effort, but all she could do was whimper. She knew her eyes were open, but all she could see was blackness. She could hear, but the only thing she'd heard thus far was the stranger's voice and the sound of her own frantic heartbeat thudding in her ears.
When he'd first spoken, her heart and breath had gone still. The timbre of his voice was so deep, it had pulsed through her like a heavy bass at a rock concert, tracing her nerve endings and teasing them to life. His voice was musical, its cadence and rhythm lulling her, soothing her, calming her. Then, her mind had processed his words; it had dawned on her that this wasn't a dream, she wasn't going to wake up, she wasn't going to be rescued by her husband who was detained in another part of the facility. For the first time, Zhanna had no control over what was happening to her; she was going to be sexually molested against her will, and there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it.
Her heart racing, she felt the heat of his hand slowly trace down her body. She couldn't feel his hand against her skin, so thankfully it appeared as if she were still clothed. Or at least, she thought she was until she felt his hot fingers trace over her hip, the shock of feeling his skin on her flesh searing through her system when his fingertips traced slowly over her bare cheek. Her heart started thudding hard in her chest as his fingers crept lower, and her breath exploded in a shallow scream when she felt his fingertips pet her smoothly shaven pussy lips. Each second seemed an eternity as he drew his fingers between her folds, searching for her hidden entrance as his wonderful voice chuckled softly and told her to scream as loudly as she wanted.
Her body stiffened as she felt one of his thick digits trace around her honeyed hole. A quiet sob escaped her as she felt his fingertips press into her channel with unbearable slowness. She was mortified to feel how easily he buried his fingers in her, horrified by her traitorous body that seemed unable to resist being aroused, regardless of the circumstances. Her husband's face flashed in her mind, as she remembered how he'd joke about her "always being ready for him." For the very first time, she felt riddled with shame at how easily her body could be fooled into willingness. She felt the despair welling up inside her as she wondered if she'd ever even be able to lay eyes on his beautiful features again, if she was going to survive this place. The tears began to fall as the fingers violating her private places pressed against her inner walls, slowly stretching her and exploring her.
Unable to see through the blindfold that had been placed on her, she strained her ears to listen for his movements, but she could barely hear the whisper of his clothes as he finally moved away from her. She waited for several agonizing moments fearing the worst, restrained and helpless as she was there in the total silence. Feeling the terror creeping over her again, she inwardly cringed as she made out the telltale sounds of him softly padding beside her, drawing his warm hand over her hip again. She drew in a deep breath, but wasn't prepared for the tickling sensation, as something long and thin dangled against her bare bottom. She tried to squirm away as the tickling continued, feeling several strands now tracing her left cheek before dancing onto the right one. Back and forth the torment continued, until she felt like her nerve endings were going to explode from the stimulation.
She breathed a sigh of relief as the sensation ended, but was caught completely off guard by the explosion of pain that followed. Her shocked yelp was quickly followed by more as Sarge brought the whip down across her sensitive ass, carefully and methodically working one side before moving to the other. When her wails finally began to lessen back into defeated little whimpers, he stepped back to survey his handiwork. Gently, he traced the intricate pattern of red welts with his fingertips, feeling her muscles flex tautly under his fingers as she struggled to move away from him. "Stay still," he said quietly. As she continued to flinch away from him and fight against her constraints, he removed his fingers from her skin and stood back to his full height.
The whip descended on her bare skin again. She'd thought the first few lashes were harsh...until he gave her something to compare them to. This one single lash was so excruciating that it shocked her into complete silence, unable even to cry out. She could feel the tears pooling in her eyes as his fingers again gently traced the lines he'd just made. "Stay still," he instructed her softly. Her body jerked involuntarily as he touched the newest mark. Again, the lash took her breath away, this time descending on the other cheek. The barest of whimpers escaped her throat as his fingertips ran softly over her hip again, outlining the last angry red mar on her beautiful alabaster skin.
"Stay still," he repeated, the soft huskiness of his voice sending heat pulsing throughout her body. Her entire being screamed at her to flinch away from him, to move as far away as possible. Her mind, subconsciously connecting the horrible pain to disobedience, forced her to hold perfectly still, although, she trembled with the effort. She couldn't control her whimpering as his rough fingers traced her pussy lips again, although she was mortified as she felt her traitorous womanhood pulse in response to his caress.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His throat aching from shouting curses at the unresponsive glass in front of him and his muscles straining almost beyond their limits as he tried to break out of his restraints, Ash finally stilled. He'd been screaming his wife's name and struggling against the leather bonds holding him so viciously that his body was simply exhausted. His voice finally silent, he glared fiercely at the woman standing just to the edge of his sight. He watched as she pushed another button on the wall, and was surprised to see several tracks lowering from the ceiling in front of him. As each track reached its end, a medium sized TV lowered into place, clicking softly as it locked into position. One by one, each of the five screens clicked on, each showing a camera zoomed in on different parts of Zhanna's body.
Elle watched his responses carefully, monitoring the myriad of emotions that flashed across his face. Her gaze flicked quickly to the screens to make sure the cameras were all zoomed in properly. She glanced back at him when she heard his sharp intake of breath, and watched as his face turned into a visage of stone. His eyes, however, were slowly roaming over the screens, taking in the images of his beautiful wife bound and blindfolded. His gaze traveled over her tear-stricken face, and lingered on her trembling lips. As he finally reached the one showing her abused ass, his gaze narrowed and his jaw clenched as he watched Sarge's fingers tracing delicately over her smooth pussy lips. He noticed that as the man's fingers forced their way inside her tight channel, they withdrew soaked with the evidence of her unwilling desire.