If nobody wanted this. . . how come her body was so desperate for his touch?
How come her hips moved in sync with his fingers when all she wanted was to stay still?
Audrie was not supposed to enjoy this—she convinced herself she didn't—but her body hungrily devoured the small amount of pleasure he fed to her. It even longed for more. His niece was trying so hard to hold back the whimpers her body wanted her to express, but she could not stop them all. Perhaps it was the pleasure, perhaps it was the pain; whatever it was, it made her vocal cords sing. And she hated every sound she made. Her moans weren't loud by any means, but they indicated that she liked this when she clearly didn't. How come it was so fucking difficult to keep her mouth shut? Why couldn't she be screaming in pain instead? At least then she wouldn't be so embarrassed.
But despite how much she wanted to hate this, disappointment washed over her when his fingers stopped moving. It was right before she opened her mouth to beg him to continue when the pain she'd suppressed started to overwhelm her again, bringing her back to reality. "I don't like it," she gritted out, sounding almost out of breath. Now that she didn't have any pleasure to distract her, the pain from the clamps and the clothespins was almost unbearable. And his smug face and calm voice certainly didn't make it any better.
"Are you even listening to me?" she said, her voice getting louder. "I don't—ahnngh!" For some reason she didn't quite understand, the removal of the clothespin hurt more than it just hanging there. Wincing at the pain and squirming against the cross, Audrie tried to adjust to the new, sharp pain radiating from her pussy, but when he started pulling another pin, it became too much. "No, stop!" she cried, panting as she looked at him. "Please just stop." Of course, her uncle did no such thing. He just slowed down, prolonging her suffering. She knew the pain would come the moment the pin was released from her flesh, but it was nothing she could prepare herself for. The pain that followed the last pop was so intense she thrashed against the restraints holding her in place. "Please!" she begged, her breathing shallow and her eyes glistening with new tears. "Just take them off!"
She was swimming in a sea of pain when he offered her a way out, her ears barely registering his words. What exactly was he saying? What could she offer him? She grimaced as she tried to come up with something clever, but the pain was making her foggy. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice bordering panicking. "What do you want? I've already told you I won't tell a soul, and that I'm not gonna do it again. So, what more do you want? I'm bound—" She rattled her wrists to prove her point, "To a fucking cross. You've—" She had to pause to draw in a sharp breath before she continued, but she didn't need to speak the words for him to understand what she was referring to. "Please, tell me. What more could you possibly want from me, Jeremiah?"
Forcing herself to calm her limbs, she blinked away a few tears. Perhaps she had to change her strategy, offering something he had to refuse. "Do you want to fuck me? Is that it? Hm?" Her voice was calmer now, more deadly. "What's stopping you? Me?" The hatred in her eyes was real, but so was the fear. "Go on then," she taunted him, not really believing he would do such a thing. She was his niece, after all. And he'd already seen—touched—parts of her he shouldn't have. "If you want to fuck me, fuck me. Go on, Uncle. Show your niece how you like to fuck." The way she said it was as much of a warning as it was a challenge. There was no way he was going to take her up on the offer; he wasn't that fucking stupid. He might have slapped her, spanked her, masturbated her, but. . . He wouldn't stick his dick in her. Just the thought of his dick being anywhere near her made her shiver. Jeremiah had already crossed a lot of lines, but this was a line she knew he wouldn't cross. And that was exactly why she was rubbing it in his face.
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