[Calyxa]

“Open your fucking legs, Calyxa.”

“No.”

The first shock detonates straight into my clit like a lightning bolt driven by pure spite.

My entire body seizes. A scream tears out of me (raw, animal, unstoppable) as every muscle locks and my back bows so hard the silver chains on my wrists scream against the headboard. The piercing in my clit hood feels like it’s glowing white-hot. My thighs slam shut on pure reflex, but the collar around my throat tightens, a living warning.

Zevryn lounges at the foot of the bed, shirtless, moonlight carving cruel silver lines down the ridges of his abdomen. In his hand: a thin black leash clipped to the collar. He tugs it once, lazy.

“Legs. Open. Or I let it kiss you again.”

I’m panting so hard my ribs ache. Sweat cools on my skin. My cunt is already swollen and dripping, traitor that it is.

“Fuck you,” I rasp.

Zap.

This one is longer. Meaner. It rolls through my clit in vicious waves, curling my toes, making my vision white out at the edges. A broken moan spills out before I can choke it back.

“Language,” he murmurs, voice velvet and venom. “The collar doesn’t like profanity when it’s aimed at me. Try again.”

I glare at him through tears I refuse to let fall. “Take this thing off and fight me like a man, you cowardly—”

Zap. Zap. Zap.

Three in rapid succession. My hips jerk helplessly, thighs spreading wide on their own just to escape the next one. I’m making sounds I don’t recognize (high, desperate, wet).

Zevryn crawls onto the bed, slow, predatory. “Do you know how it works, darling? Every refusal. Every no, stop, don’t, never, can’t, won’t. Every single one lights you up right here.” He flicks the silver ring piercing my clit hood with one cruel fingernail and I jerk like I’ve been shot. “And the more you fight, the wetter you get. Look at you. Dripping for punishment.”

I try to swallow the next word. I swear I do. But it claws its way out anyway.

“I hate—”

Zap.

This one doesn’t stop. It rolls through me in building, building waves until I’m thrashing in the chains, tears streaming, cunt clenching on nothing like it’s begging.

“—you!” I finish on a sob.

The shock cuts off. I sag, trembling, chest heaving, slick running down my thighs in shameless rivers.

Zevryn kisses the tears from my temple like he’s proud of them.

“Again,” he whispers. “Tell me no again.”

I shake my head frantically. “I—I won’t—”

He waits, thumb stroking the collar like it’s a favored pet.

I clench my jaw so hard my teeth creak.

Silence.

He sighs, mock-disappointed. “Silence is its own kind of no, Calyxa.”

Zap.

This time I come.

It rips through me like a blade (violent, humiliating, total). My whole body locks, hips bucking against air, a broken wail tearing loose as I squirt messily across the sheets. The orgasm goes on and on, the collar pulsing in perfect, evil rhythm with my clit until I’m sobbing from overstimulation, thighs shaking uncontrollably.

When it finally releases me, I’m limp, wrecked, tears and spit and slick everywhere.

Zevryn unhooks the leash from the bedpost and clips it shorter, forcing me onto my knees.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, brushing damp hair from my face. “Now. Crawl to the mirror. I want you to watch what happens every time you disobey.”

I try to find words (any words) that aren’t no or stop or please, but my tongue is thick, useless.

He tugs the leash. “Crawl, mate.”

I crawl.

The marble is freezing against my knees and palms. Every shift drags the clit ring, sends sparks shooting up my spine. When I reach the floor-length mirror, he yanks me upright by the collar so I’m kneeling tall, thighs forced wide.

“Look,” he says, crouching behind me, hands sliding down to spread me open for the glass. “Look how pretty denial looks on you.”

My reflection is a ruin: lips bitten swollen, eyes blown black, cunt flushed dark and glistening, silver ring glinting through the hood like a brand.

“Don’t,” I whisper.

Zap.

Another orgasm, instant and brutal. I scream, head falling back against his shoulder as my cunt spasms so hard it hurts. He holds me through it, arms banded around my waist, cock hard against my ass.

“That’s two,” he whispers against my ear. “Let’s see how many times you can come just from telling me no before you start begging for my cock instead.”

I’m still shaking when the next word forms.

“No,” I sob.

Zap.

I break all over again.

He laughs, soft and reverent, and starts counting.

“Three,” he says as I shudder through the aftershocks. “Say it again.”

“No—no—no—”

Zap-zap-zap.

I lose track after six. My voice is gone, reduced to hoarse whimpers. My thighs are soaked, the marble beneath me a puddle of my own shame. Every shock forces another climax, smaller but sharper, until I’m floating in a haze of pain-pleasure that feels like dying.

Zevryn finally drags me back to the bed by the leash, flips me onto my stomach. My cheek presses into the wet sheets that smell like sex and surrender.

“Still fighting?” he asks, voice husky. He spreads my ass cheeks with both hands, thumbs tracing the rim of my hole. “Because I can keep this up all night.”

I try to push up on shaking arms. “Don’t you fucking—”

Zap.

This one is different (lower, deeper). The collar must have a second node, because the shock slams straight into my ass at the same time it fries my clit. I scream into the mattress, whole body convulsing, squirting again so hard it splashes his thighs.

He groans like I just sucked his soul out through his cock.

“Seven,” he rasps. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

I’m crying openly now, tears dripping off my chin. “Please—”

He goes still.

“Please what?” His voice is suddenly careful, almost gentle.

I bite my tongue until I taste blood. I will not say please stop. I will not.

He waits.

I shake my head.

Zap.

Eight.

I’m barely coherent when he flips me onto my back again, spreads my legs wide and kneels between them. His cock is flushed angry red, dripping at the tip.

“Tell me no one more time,” he says, dragging the head through my slick folds, nudging my pierced clit until I sob. “Tell me no, and I’ll shove inside you raw and fuck you through the next ten shocks. Or say yes, Calyxa. Say yes and I’ll take the collar off and let you come on my cock until you forget your own name.”

I stare up at him (beautiful monster, empty eyes burning with something that looks like worship) and I hate how much I want to say yes.

My lips part.

“No,” I breathe.

His eyes flare eclipse-black.

He slams into me in one brutal thrust.

The collar detonates at the exact same second his cock bottoms out.

I scream until my voice shatters.

He fucks me through it (through nine, ten, eleven) each shock perfectly timed with his thrusts, forcing orgasm after orgasm until I’m speaking in tongues, until my cunt is fluttering helplessly around him, until I can’t tell where the electricity ends and he begins.

At thirteen, I break.

“Yes,” I sob, clawing at his shoulders. “Yes—fuck—yes—”

The collar goes silent.

The sudden absence of pain is its own kind of agony.

Zevryn rips the collar off with shaking hands and throws it across the room like it burned him too. Then he’s on me, in me, kissing me like he’s drowning and I’m air.

“Calyxa,” he groans into my mouth, hips snapping harder. “Fuck—say it again—”

“Yes,” I cry, legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his ass to pull him deeper. “Yes, you bastard—yes—”

He comes with my name on his tongue, flooding me so deep I feel it in my spine. I follow a heartbeat later, clenching around him, milking every drop as tears stream down my temples.

We stay locked together, trembling, his forehead pressed to mine.

After a long time, he whispers against my lips, “Tomorrow I’ll make you say it without the collar.”

I laugh (wet, wrecked, furious).

“Tomorrow,” I whisper back, “I’ll make you beg me to put it back on.”

He kisses me again, slow and filthy and possessive.

The leash lies discarded on the floor.

But we both know this isn’t over.

Not even close.