Sindy
I buried my face against the bedding, my cheek pressed to the rough quilt as my breath came in uneven bursts. The sting of every strike seared across my skin, burning hot, then spreading deeper, until I felt like I was unraveling at the seams. Each time I thought I could brace myself, that I could grow used to it, Lorenzo's hand found a new place, a new nerve, a new way to remind me that resistance was useless. He wasn’t just punishing me—he was claiming me. My body was his canvas, and each bruise, each mark, was another reminder of who I belonged to.
But gods, the pain was intoxicating. It licked through me like fire, a slow, cruel flame that only grew hotter each time his touch returned. Somewhere between the agony and the pleasure, I lost myself. I no longer knew if I wanted to
