Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 46803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
I resist the urge to obey as hard as I can. Every second I spend outside the collar’s allowed range, I feel my cheeks getting hotter and more sore, responding to the electrical pulses which hijack my nervous system. I know I should go back, probably. But I don’t. I take another step away, even though I can barely do it. My muscles are tight and the pain is getting even more intense, and the surface of my skin across my ass and even the tops of my thighs feel like fire ants are running across them. But I’m fucking stubborn. I’m not going to stop until something stops me.
Another step.
I grunt. Sweat is starting to run down my forehead and into my eyes. I wasn’t even aware of it until this very moment. This collar is activating every potentially punitive system in my body, and I know there’s a limit to what I can take. It really feels as though my ass is being beaten now. There’s a steady pulse, a thrum that works its way through me every other second or two. I feel an impact that isn’t there. I feel pain that is all too real from a strike that never happened.
“This won’t stop hurting when you finally give in, stubborn little thing,” he growls, watching me from just outside the door. I’ve gotten three steps away from him. This collar is definitely going to slow me down, even if it doesn’t stop me.
“I… don’t… care,” I grunt.
“You will,” he says. “If that collar keeps doing its work, then your muscles will be cramped and aching for days.”
“I…. Don’t… Care,” I repeat. I mean it.
“You won’t even act in your own best interest,” he says. “You’ll hurt yourself, and for what? To prove a point to yourself? To me? Is this how you got yourself shot? By refusing to notice when you are making a terrible decision?”
Being lectured while I am in pain is worse than being in pain. It’s one thing to be getting hurt because I refuse to submit, but it is something else to be observed and have my rebelliousness commented on while it is in progress.
“I can stand here and watch you fight your way through this as long as it takes,” he says.
“Fuck you,” I curse, pushing through the pain to take two more steps.
I scream out as that additional distance makes all the difference. The alien tech fixed around my neck is now producing sensations that feel like a cane making rough contact with my tender ass. I can’t move back toward the safety zone, because now I can’t move at all. I’ve overloaded my body. I’ve put myself into a position where all I can do is collapse from the pain.
I hear him make a sound that really seems a lot like a human tut.
“Silly girl,” he growls, even as he takes pity on me.
He scoops me up from the ground, one arm around my waist, the other hand curling into a thick grasp at the back of my head. The latter grip doesn’t seem to be for anything other than making me feel his strength and how much he has me under control. He must know what that grip does to a woman. Even in my pained state, I feel that flush of sensation, endorphins and dopamine and whatever other chemicals are rushing through my body at the curling of his alien digits, the tips of his claws scratching across the hypersensitive skin of my scalp.
The moment we pass through the door, the pain subsides significantly. New stimulation is no longer being added to the burden I have saddled myself with. But it is not over. True to his word, the pain I have accrued continues to seep through me. He lets me slide down onto the floor and stands over me as I try not to writhe embarrassingly in front of him. I fail in that mission immediately. Squirming around on the ground in an effort to make myself comfortable in a situation that does not allow for any level of comfort whatsoever is about as humiliating as anything in my life has ever been.
“Sadist,” I curse him.
“Brat,” he replies.
I don’t have the energy to argue any more than that. I have to use all my energy to keep myself in check and to stop from being a complete mess. I’ve never felt so weak and pathetic as I do right now, and his slight smirk of satisfaction makes it all that much worse. I take deep breaths, trying not to gasp as I do my best to get my body’s reactions under control. It’s hard, lying here absolutely buck naked, no semblance of modesty. I feel less human than I ever have been and so much more animal.