187 — Estela POV
I think… I lost count after the fifth time.
I don't even know anymore.
My wrists are aching, shoulders sore from pulling. The restraints dig into my skin, damp from sweat and tears. The silk tie over my eyes is soaked through, my lashes clinging to it. My thighs? They're trembling so badly they barely feel like they belong to me anymore. My entire body is a mess—sticky, sore, utterly wrecked.
I don't even know who I am anymore.
I think I was a person once.
Now?
Now I'm just… this desperate thing tied to a bed, too far gone to care.
"D-Daphne… I… I can't do it anymore…" I gasp, voice shaking, nearly a sob.
I'm broken. Surely. This time… surely…
She hums. Soft. Devious. Right by my ear.
"Okay, okay… this is the last time," she croons, palm caressing my thigh.
"That's what you said hours ago!" I cry out, voice cracking.
A warm chuckle.
"It's different this time, I promise."
Liar.
Beautiful, evil liar.
