Your guilty pleasures

Your guilty pleasures

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Alone in a basement with a stranger, a knife, and a blindfold. What's the worst that could happen? New and improved.

Summary

Alone in a basement with a stranger, a knife, and a blindfold. What's the worst that could happen?

New and improved.

Content

Submitted: December 09, 2015

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Content

Submitted: December 09, 2015

A A A

A A A


"Help me.." Your voice called out, echoing around the halls. It was no use; no one could hear you scream but me, and that was a sound I wanted to hear. Walls of white, ceramic and floors of a strange, ceramic black were all that you could see over the top of the blindfold: and the pain, the crimson that blurred your vision. Your desperate murmurs were music to my ears. Such delightful sounds. Your skin, so cold but.. seering with heat from the pain coursing through your veins. So hot. So fucking.. hot. The sight of you so helpless only made me want more. More of you. There was nothing you could do about it: just the way I liked it. Much more fun when I had the control. "Shutup.." I barked, sharply. The scream that left your lips as I lashed my spiked, studded belt over your abdomen made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Your white flesh tinged a pretty pink. The noises you made when I abused you.. they did things to me. Your back arched, straining against the blindfold as it struggled to stay on that pretty, terrified face. I couldn't help but to stand and stare, grinning at you. Fucking beautiful. No one else seemed to partake in what I enjoyed: cutting people up, making them squirm and beg for the oncoming pleasure, and pain that I was capable of giving. With you, I assumed you'd rather be the getting the latter, at first. It had taken you a little while to get used to it, but you'd adjusted to it nicely. Your skin, even risen by the welt I'd left with my belt, was beautiful. Like a porcalin doll. So white..smooth, and flecked with absolutely gorgeous scars from our last session. Of course, you didn't know who I was: you were always blindfolded. Particularly, my favourite spot was your navel, and your inner thighs. Scars looked wonderful on a pretty thing; such a pretty little thing. Of course, you enjoyed it, secretely. I knew that. You wouldn't come back for more if you didn't. I lowered to your face, gripping your jaw with my fingers and thumb, firmly. Firm and authoritive, just the way you liked it. Oh, you little slut, you. Your hips arched into the air, wanting more, and more. Whether I wanted to give you what you desired was a different story, though. So far, I'd dragged a blade down along your hip and across your panty line, leaving a white line along the line of the white, cotton panties: bleeding beautifully down onto the starch white material, cotton that covered your throbbing heat. I'd chosen them myself: a good choice. White never stayed clean. You writhed beneath me, and I idly sat back, watching you while you moaned, groaned, and begged for more like a desperate whore. "Please, Sir.." You murmured, your voice dripping with lust; oozing with desire of the most primal kind. Basic instinct. I smiled to myself, finally giving in, but not fully. No fun in that. Bending over you, I took a small, surgical blade from a table at the side of the room: footsteps echoing as I did. The attic of a brothel: the best place to do it. No one would suspect a thing, and you were guranteed privacy if you slung a tie over the doorknob. You were mine. All mine. Oh, the things I was about to do to you.. Your skin rippled beneath the cool of the blade that inwardly hissed at your heated flesh. Blade pressed sideways against your pulsating navel; skin heated so much more in your instinctive response to the thrill of the blade pressed down against you. I could see the way you inhaled when I lowered the blade and slipped it beneath your panty line: sliding it up against your bare, damp folds. Of course, you would freak out if you knew just how far I was going to take this: but it would be worth it. Such a darling: a dramatic disaster. There you were, blindfolded, clothed in nothing but the fine lingerie that was a treat yourself when you got this job. A shame it would be torn to shreds tonight and strewn all over the walls, just like your squirming form latched to the bedposts. Your lips parted into an "O" as I dragged the blade further down: between your heat and firm little rump's entrance. I pushed the point forward, watching you begin to slowly wriggle your hips in attempt to get away from the pain you weren't sure if you wanted. I soon withdrew the blade, taking my time in doing so. Silver glared between moistened panties as I slid it back up, sure that the tip of the lust kissed metal brushed it's cool surface over the erected nub of flesh between your legs before it finally became free of your underwear. You whimpered under your breath, pulling your hips back. Oh.. how darling. Ringlets of blonde hair fell over your shoulders as you moved some, still trying to figure out where you were. Who I was. You'd never truly know: that was the fun part, for me, at least. A game of cat and mouse. One that I'd always win.


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