Page 7 of Brandishing Balance (Devil’s Psychos MC #3)

Maya

I groaned in pain, my vision blurring. I didn’t even try to blink to try to focus my gaze. I didn’t need to see what was going on. I’ve seen enough in the last forty-eight hours. Felt enough.

The lights, the camera, and the toys that had filled and fucked each of my holes. My ass and pussy were sore, my throat scratchy from screaming and pleading. But the worse part of all were the drugs that he kept pumping into my system. A little prick of pain and I was floating above it all.

Dax had started filming me while he fucked me with all sorts of different toys, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he grew bored.

He had been live streaming my torture sessions, saying I needed to earn back the money I cost him.

Money that he apparently had been getting from President Buckley, but that had dried up when he’d been killed.

I was living in a nightmare. I lost count of how many orgasms he’d forced out of me.

Not only did I have the pain of being raped by his toys, I also had the pain of the unhealed gunshot wound in my shoulder.

I had a feeling it was infected. It would be just my luck too: kidnapped, shot, an infected wound, and filmed in a revenge-porn plot.

All because Buckley didn’t like me taking Marcos’s, Jason’s, and Nico’s attention away from the club.

So much pain and heartbreak over the years, all because of greedy fucking men. I had endured so much pain. I just wished for it to be over. The years of psychological torture had worn me down, and now that he had his hands on me, I didn’t want to give him any pleasure in my torture.

Not for the first time, I wished he would kill me.

Just end it all.

I would be free.

I didn’t even feel guilty anymore as I thought of Luke. He had his father and Jason and Nico. He had a full family unit that would take care of him. He would be ok without me.

Fire erupted in my shoulder and I screamed in agony, jerking against my bindings. White hot fire raced through me as someone poked and prodded at my gunshot wound. “Stop!” I yelled.

“No can do, little whore,” Hillcrest crooned, laughing lightly like my pain amused him.

“This wound is looking mighty nasty. We’ve got to get that bullet out of there.

” He dug around in my wound again and I screamed and flailed against my bindings.

“That’s it, little whore. Scream now for the subscribers, they’re asking for blood. ”

Dread barely registered in my mind as the brutal pain overtook me.

Maya

When I woke again, the pain in my body had dimmed. There was a floating feeling again, and my pussy throbbed with need. My pierced nipples ached, a clear sign that clamps—weighted this time—were fastened to them again.

I looked around and realized I was no longer on the medical gurney. Instead, I was draped over U-shaped steel pipes that rose from a floor stand. The pipes came up to waist height, forming a sick and twisted version of monkey bars turned BDSM rack that was meant to exploit and torture.

Between the two metal pipes, my breasts were firmly clamped, with my shoulders and ribs bearing down on the cold steel.

With my legs dangling, my hips were uncomfortably supported by a third pipe that pressed painfully into my hipbones.

With my arms outstretched across the first bar supporting my shoulders, my wrists were fastened to the steel.

When I tried to move my legs, I found there was a spreader bar holding them apart, and it only slid wider the harder I struggled.

“Well, well, well,” Hillcrest said as he walked over to me, holding a hand-held camera.

“Our little whore is awake again. Smile prettily for the camera, whore.” The camera zoomed in on my face, getting a close-up.

I was grateful he hadn’t used my name, but I knew it wouldn’t last. This man was out to ruin me.

I closed my eyes in shame.

Hillcrest laughed obnoxiously. “Our viewers have been asking for more. And we’re here to give the people what they want.”

I didn’t make a sound. I learned early that Hillcrest enjoyed my whining and crying and begging.

He wanted to break me. He wanted my blood and my tears—it made him more money.

I prayed to God that whatever dark website that he was uploading to or live streaming on, that my guys never saw them.

I didn’t want them to see the pain and torment Hillcrest was putting me through. Nico especially. It would break him.

Hillcrest set his phone into the holder on a ring light tripod, and I glanced up wondering what his plan was.

He flashed me a wicked grin that made me quickly look away.

“Time to up the ante, little whore.” He strode around behind me, and I heard the metal clicking off his belt.

“Should I just plunge straight into this cunt dry? Or should I make you suck my cock first?”

“Dry,” a deep male voice spoke from behind me. There was someone else in the room. That was new. “Get her screams on camera.”

I couldn’t see whoever was speaking, but it didn’t matter.

They clearly weren’t going to help me. He laughed, “The audience agrees.” I heard the click-clacking of what sounded like a keyboard before he spoke again.

“Oh yes. User TruckerDaddy84 will pay extra if you make her bleed on your cock and then make her lick it clean.”

Hillcrest’s nasally laugh was the thing of nightmares and it would be sure to haunt mine for the rest of my days. His meaty palms gripped my hips before his heavy cock slid over my ass. “Make it bloody? We can certainly do that, right little whore?”

I squeezed my eyes shut tight. I bit down on my lower lip and dug my fingernails into the metal bars supporting my chest, trying to brace myself for what I knew would be an onslaught of pain.

The scream he tore out of me when he shoved into my bone-dry pussy ravaged my throat. Agony ripped at me. I could feel the tissue shredding as he pulled out and forced himself back in. Every single thrust drove my hipbones harder against the steel pipe they rested on, bruising me bone deep.

Tears poured down my face as I screamed.

Hillcrest laughed as he pulled out, “Look at that blood.”

The other man chuckled. “Have her clean it now, then fuck her some more. Here we’ll get a close-up.”

There were footsteps as the man rounded the rack I was trussed up on. All I could see were baggy blue jeans and heavy work boots. He must have grabbed the camera, light and all, and moved it closer as Dax grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head up from where it had been dangling.

Dax pressed the head of his cock against my lips and I whimpered, but kept my lips closed in a firm line, my teeth clenched behind them. “Oh little whore, you want to be difficult? We have ways around difficult.”

He dropped my head and shuffled away momentarily, before he returned.

He shoved a pair of hooks on to one side of my cheeks before a rubber band wrapped around the back of my head.

I tried to struggle, to no avail, as he yanked my head back by my hair and shoved the other two hooks of the Claw Hook mouth spreader into my mouth on the other side.

I cried out as he tightened the strap behind my head and my cheeks were pulled open wide. No longer able to close my mouth, I cried earnestly as Dax shoved his cock into my awaiting mouth. He was rough and gripped my head hard, “Clean it, little whore.”

The other man laughed as Dax thrust his cock deep into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat, gagging me. “Choke on that cock, whore.”

I tried to zone out, tried to force myself to dissociate, but the pain was too great. The laughing, the lights, the taste of fucking iron in my mouth as I was forced to clean my blood from his cock would stay with me for the rest of my life.