Page 17 of Writhe (Wellard Asylum)

T he first thing I register is the ache. A deep, relentless throb that pulses through my limbs like I got hit by a truck—no, scratch that, a freight train driven by Satan himself. My fingers twitch, instinctively seeking warmth, but instead of comfort, I get restraint.

Oh.

Leather cuffs bite into my wrists, keeping them bound above my head, forcing my body into a stretch that would be sexy if I weren’t the one suffering through it.

My back arches slightly off the mattress, straining, testing—useless.

A sliver of panic flickers through me, but the silk blindfold over my eyes keeps me from seeing, keeps me from confirming the reality of my situation.

I’m exposed. Completely bare.

Not ideal.

The air is cool against my damp skin, and my body betrays me instantly, breaking out in goosebumps. Oh, perfect. Like I need to look any more pathetic. The towel I had been wrapped in last night is gone. Wasn’t that nice? A little post-torture hospitality. Five-star service, really.

“I am so sorry he did that to you. No one will ever touch you like that again, pup.”

The Doctor’s voice is warm velvet, each syllable wrapping around me with practiced care.

Manipulation . It unfurls inside me like a sickness, curling around my ribs, whispering things my traitorous body wants to believe.

He could make poison taste like honey, and I’d drink it just to see if he were lying.

I swallow hard, my pulse skittering. There’s movement. A shift in the air. Someone else steps closer, radiating heat—solid and familiar.

Theo.

I know it’s him before he even opens his mouth. He’s a furnace, always burning, always pressing. His presence is like a shadow creeping over my skin, electric and restless. He smells like sweat and sin.

“She just came back to us. Are you sure we should be going so hard today?” His voice slithers over my nerves, poking at something deep and feral. A shudder wracks through me, unbidden .

The Doctor hums, his touch ghosting over my ribs. I jerk instinctively, but there’s nowhere to go. The restraints hold, the blindfold stays in place, and my options remain exactly where they always are: nonexistent.

“She needs to learn that pleasure comes through submission. I think you can help with that, can’t you, Theo?”

Pleasure. Submission. Right. And next, they’ll tell me pain is just a friendly hug from the void.

Theo makes a sound low in his throat, something wicked. His hands follow the Doctor’s, skimming over my hips, squeezing, his touch firmer, hungrier. He’s not playing around, and neither is the Doctor.

“I’ll make her beg for it.”

Oh, fantastic. My own personal hell, now, with double the tormentors. I should be scared. I should be furious. Instead, my lips part, and the only thing I can think of is game on. Fingers trail down the center of my chest before brushing against my stomach. I flinch.

“Your body knows us now. No need to fight,” The Doctor says.

I huff a breath, tilting my head even though I can’t see him. “That so? My body must be giving some very mixed signals, then.”

Theo’s hand grips my thigh, spreading me wider. His amusement is unmistakable. “She’s still tense,” Theo notes, like I’m some experiment on a lab table.

“Well, maybe it’s the whole ‘restrained and blindfolded’ thing. Not exactly a spa day, boys. ”

“Then we’ll have to help her,” the Doctor murmurs.

My breath catches, betraying me. Heat licks up my spine, shamefully. My mind knows I should resist, that I should hate this, but my body—my traitorous body—leans into their touch.

The Doctor’s thumb skims my lips, tracing them slowly before pressing between them.

“Open.”

I hesitate, because, really? I might be tied up and blindfolded, but I do still have teeth.

The Doctor doesn’t push. He simply waits, his thumb resting right there, his other hand smoothing up the inside of my thigh.

I grit my teeth, pulse hammering. This is a game.

A test. And I hate that I want to see what happens if I fail.

My lip’s part, instinct winning over logic, and the Doctor slides his thumb into my mouth.

“Good girl.”

Theo exhales sharply, and I know he’s watching me. Watching the way, I take the Doctor’s thumb between my lips. Watching the way I don’t pull away.

“Fuck,” Theo mutters. “She’s going to look so fucking pretty with your cock in her mouth.”

A sharp pang of humiliation burns through me, but it’s drowned beneath something dangerously addictive. The Doctor finally pulls his thumb from my mouth, wiping the dampness across my collarbone like he’s marking me. “I think it’s time we begin, don’t you?”

I lick my lips, flexing my fingers against the cuffs. “Oh, by all means. Don’t let me stop you.”

Theo grins. I feel it, even without seeing it .

“Oh, I’ve been ready, Doc.”

And with that, they begin to break me.

“Slowly, Theo,” the Doctor murmurs, his voice silk-wrapped steel. “Let her come apart properly.”

Theo makes a sound of frustration but obeys, his touch shifting from reckless to calculated. Now he’s tracing patterns over my skin, studying how I react, how I twitch beneath him like some fucking wind-up toy. A sharp nip in my hip makes me jump.

I gasp.

His mouth follows, his tongue sweeping downward with a sinful certainty that has my stomach flipping.

A breath escapes before I can stop it.

“Yeah.” Theo chuckles. “She’s ready for it.”

I jerk when his mouth descends, heat and hunger dragging over my inner thigh. My stomach clenches. I hate the way my body betrays me. I hate that I’m already trembling.

“Relax, pet,” the Doctor soothes from somewhere beside me, and it’s almost funny. As if my body is supposed to go boneless under their hands, as if this is something I should want. And then Theo bites. Hard.

“Oh, she liked that.” Theo’s breath is warm against my skin, his tone smug, delighted. “I can feel her shaking.”

I grit my teeth, refuse to answer.

But he’s already tilting his head, already pressing his lips right there. His tongue flicking out, teasing exactly where I don’t want him to.

A broken sound leaves me. A sound I hate .

“Oh, that was pretty.” Theo sounds far too pleased with himself. “Think I wanna hear more.”

And then, he devours me. His mouth is a crime scene. A massacre of pride and resistance. He licks, sucks, fucks me open with his tongue, his hands tightening on my thighs when I try to twist away. I thrash, uselessly. The cuffs bite into my wrists.

I’m drowning.

“Such a pretty little thing,” Theo murmurs, voice thick with sin. “Gonna, make you come on my tongue.”

I shake my head. No. No.

“You should thank him, Eliza.” The Doctor’s voice slithers through my haze, amusement laced with control. “Thank him for making you feel good.”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip. Fuck. Off.

“Say it.”

I turn my face away, my chest rising and falling in ragged pants.

A sharp slap lands against my inner thigh.

Pain flares, quick and bright, chased by the slow bloom of heat.

I yelp, jerking against the restraints. Theo only chuckles.

“C’mon, don’t fight it, dollface. You know you love being played with. ”

The Doctor tsks, a sound full of mock disappointment. “Still so stubborn,” he muses. “Perhaps she needs more . . . encouragement.”

A shudder tears through me.

Then . . .

Metal against metal. A drawer opening. A selection being made. Something chosen just for me. “I think this will do. ”

The mattress dips beside me. “Theo, lift her hips.” Theo obeys instantly, his grip sliding under my waist, dragging me up, spreading me open. The Doctor’s hand presses against my lower stomach. “This will make it impossible for you to keep your composure, little doll.”

A slick, cool sensation nudges against me. Realization slams into me a second too late—the vibrator. A gasp rips from me, but the Doctor is already pressing it inside, slow but relentless.

Then . . .

There’s a low, insidious hum. I gasp and Theo’s hands tighten on my thighs. “That’s it,” he croons, grinning against my hip. “Already making such sweet little sounds.”

The Doctor’s fingers press the toy deeper, hitting the perfect spot with surgical precision. My vision blurs. “There we go,” the Doctor murmurs, satisfaction thick in his tone. “Feel how your body reacts. How easily do you fall into it.”

I shake my head, a weak denial. But they know the truth. The vibrator inside me pulses higher, sending a violent shudder through my limbs.

Theo laughs. “She’s already dripping, Doc.”

I go still, humiliated. I want to tell them to fuck off, but before I can?—

Theo devours me again. His tongue flicks over me, merciless. His mouth consumes, while the toy inside me thrums with devastating intensity.

I thrash my fingers, curling them into fists above me .

“That’s it,” the Doctor coaxes. “No use fighting it, pet. You’re going to break for us, whether you like it or not.”

Theo hums against me, the vibrations of his mouth and the toy combining, turning my world to white noise.

“She’s close,” he murmurs, dragging his teeth against my inner thigh before returning to his work.

I hate him. I hate that I’m shaking, that my body is already betraying me.

And the Doctor knows it, too. I hear the smile in his voice when he says.

“Stop.”

Theo pulls away instantly. A sob breaks from me—a sound raw and desperate and humiliating. Theo laughs. “Oh, that was cruel, Doc. Look at her shaking.”

I feel furious. Desperate. But before I can spit curses at them, the Doctor’s hand finds my throat, tilting my head up. His touch is gentle. His grip is iron. “You’ll come when I allow it,” he says, his voice a silk-lined menace. “Not before. Not unless you earn it.”

I bite my lip—hard. Theo cages me in, his breath hot against my ear. “You wanna come, babydoll?” His fingers slide up my trembling thigh, teasing. “Say please.”

I refuse. The Doctor’s grip tightens. just enough. “Say it, Eliza.”