Continued from here.
Penthouse tied me down to his bed, pushing my shirt up and tugging my pants off. He slapped my face and I groaned into the gag, feeling the spit start to build up behind the ball. My arms tugged hard at my bonds and I glared up at him as he slapped my breasts through my bra.
“Are you going to tell me where my wallet is?” He asked. He had passed the threshold of annoyance into sternness.
I shook my head and he reached down, slapping me once more.
“Ivy,” he squeezed my nipples. “Where is it?” I shook my head and he reached to the side of the bed, grabbing his knife and flicking it open. Almost instantly, I grew still as he started to run it over my skin. “Are you ready to tell me?” Despite the goosebumps that rose on the back of my neck, I shook my head once more.
He brought the knife down to my stomach and, pushing just hard enough to just leave a mark, wrote the word “whore” on my stomach in thin, capital letters. I’ve never been written on with a knife before and having to hold still through the entire thing was insanity.
“Now, let’s hear where that wallet is,” he said. I just smirked around the ballgag and he shook his head before getting up and walking over to one of his cabinets. “All right, let’s see what I can do to persuade you.”