Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
All the other women were naked—and the other two on the benches identical to mine were getting spanked with wooden paddles. Was that to be my fate too? Would it hurt more or less considering I was wearing head to toe leather?
But before I could ask or try to twist my head to see what was happening behind me, suddenly a full leather hood was dropped over my head from behind and being secured to the leather collar of my catsuit.
“What are you doing?” I screeched. There weren’t any air holes at my nose, only creepy goggles at my eyes so I could see out. And what I saw—
It was some sort of gas mask they’d put on me. I scrabbled and yanked at the chains, sucking in the last bit of air before they finished zipping the gas mask hood to my collar. I thought the zipper on the collar had just been an aesthetic finishing detail, not—
In horror, I watched them attach a tube to the gas mask, and then the little bit of oxygen still inside the suit began to be suctioned out.
I screamed as all around me, canes began to pound.
16
WALKER
The room was cold, but I could feel the heat of desperation radiating from the desperate woman in front of me. Jasmine was tied down in the center of the room, her head bowed, her hands trembling by her sides. She wore a black leather gas mask-type contraption that covered her entire face.
There was no breathing hole. There was no way for her to get air other than from the tube hanging from the mask, which the man beside my father had clipped to a vacuum contraption that appeared to be sucking what little air she had from her rather than giving her more of it.
The leather was so tight against her face, it looked as though it would never come off again.
She was suffocating, the air being cut off from her lungs. I wanted to stop the Trial immediately, but I couldn’t move. I wanted to scream, but my voice was stuck in my throat. I was frozen. I was failing her.
A circle of secret society members, cloaked in their silver robes, gathered around her, their canes banging against the floor in a menacing rhythm.
Jasmine frantically gasped for air, her chest rising and falling quickly. I could feel her fear as I took a few steps closer. Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead as I tried to process exactly what was happening.
The members of the secret society continued to stand in their circle, their eyes never leaving Jasmine. The mask twitched with every shallow breath she took, and it looked as if it could completely swallow her up at any minute.
She was panicking. But so was I.
I took a step forward, my frantic brain trying to estimate how many of these fuckers I could fight off at once if they tried to stop me from yanking that fucking mask off her head. Because there was no way I could simply stand there and watch her struggle with life again. I would not allow the Elders to continue putting her life at risk, regardless of what Jasmine wanted or how we both wanted to complete the Trials. There had to be a breaking point, and maybe this was it.
Just as I was about to demand her release, consequences or not, the Elders hit their canes and one of them stepped forward. “Walker St. Claire. To complete this Trial, you must claim your belle’s ass in front of all. You must take what is yours while she struggles for life. Once we see your cum dripping off the leather of her ass, marking the belle as yours, then the Trial will be complete.”
These bastards actually wanted to watch me fuck her while she gasped for air? And not just fuck her, but fuck her ass while she wouldn’t even be able to protest because of the mask.
As if sensing my plan to scream at them all to go fuck themselves while I ripped the mask off, four men stepped up, two on each side of Jasmine. And I knew my father had arranged it ahead of time so they’d fight me if I reached for that hood.
Fuck! There was only one way out, and I was wasting precious time.
Jasmine was running out of air.
Snatching a bottle of lubrication from an Elder’s extended hand, I moved in between Jasmine’s legs that were already spread wide on the spanking bench. She was face-down on the spanking bench, ass up, her body jerking frantically with her efforts to breathe.
“Let her have a little air,” my father said, and the noise from the vacuum contraption changed for a few moments, reversing. Jasmine’s thrashing on the bench calmed as I watched her suck in breath after breath. So that was how my father was going to play this. He wanted the ultimate control. Sick fucking bastard.