The smacks are still burning on my ass as my gaze locks on the reflection of me trembling in my lace panties, the hem already damp and clinging. Surrounded by towering masked men, every one of them watching me like prey.

This is everything I used to imagine in the dark. Now it’s real, and it’s so much more brutal, so much more perfect.

A hand slides down my spine slowly, making me arch. Another brushes over the lace of my bra, pulling the strap down until my breast spills free. The cool air makes my nipple harden instantly.

“She’s sensitive,” one of them murmurs, pinching lightly.

I whimper, the...