Chapter 11: The Pit’s Whip
Dice Doom – Lashes Fade
By Restrained4U
Leo sat with Ryan’s leash slack, having traded any potential rewared for Jamie’s two veto cards and burned all three to dodge his last dare. Ryan knelt, cuffed and collared; head bowed beside Leo’s chair. Jamie perched in soaked briefs, eyes glinting with restless hunger.
Marcus, shirtless in jeans, snatched the black velvet bag from Leo, boots planted firm. (Pit’s mine to bend.) He reached in, fingers brushing the thick cards, and pulled a black dare – white text slashing against the dark.
He read it slow, jaw tightening, voice a rough drawl – “Everyone rolls the dice, you roll a dice – whoever rolls the same as you gets to choose a previous dare or punishment. If no numbers match, you take a punishment.”
He slapped the card down – ROLL OR RULE – its thud sharp against the scarred table, eyes glinting with a predator’s edge. (Leo’s cane, Ryan’s clamps, Jamie’s shred… someone’s picking – or the pit’s got me.) His mind ticked fast – (Match, and they choose. No match, and it’s the red bag… could be anything.)