41. Chapter 39
Chapter 39
Emery
“Walk forward.” Hunter’s voice is low and rough in my ear.
His fingers are still playing with my clit as I shuffle forward, one-hundred-fucking-percent aware of the knife pressing against my throat.
He wouldn’t actually cut me, would he?
Ravenous hazel eyes flash in my mind as a phantom sting fills my lip.
My heart pounds, and I feel a little lightheaded because, yes. Yes, I do think he will cut me. Is that the plan for this scene? Am I going to bleed for him? Am I going home with more than just the bruises I have been gifted so far?
A streak of pleasure shoots straight up to my belly button as Hunter pinches my clit, causing my steps to falter and the knife to send a tiny little zing across my skin.
I gasp and reach up for the knife. “I—I think you cut me.”
Hunter pauses, and that’s when I feel it. His cock twitches against my ass. Is this turning him on?
Well, obviously, otherwise he wouldn’t have set up the scene like this. But is my fear or the thought of his knife drawing my blood the reason for his pleasure?
Could it be both?
A thrill runs down my spine at the idea of my fear turning him on. And him loving the sight of my blood… How far will he go? Another nip to my lip? Or are those knives going to slice through my skin?
Then it dawns on me. I’m alone with him. The others all made sure they had their scenes before Hunter.
Holy shit, is there a realistic chance that I’m actually going to be chopped up into little pieces and tossed into the river? I’d been joking with Oakley when I had asked her to tell the police if this exact thing happened.
My skin flushes hot and my breathing increases.
I don’t get a response on the potential cut to my neck, just pressure to the back of my leg with his knee. “Keep moving.”
The heat from his body lines the entire length of my back, and it’s the only thing that is providing me with any direction. I have a feeling we are moving toward the huge ass cross, since that’s the last thing I can remember seeing before the blindfold cut off my vision.
We keep the shuffling gait that we have established. My hands feel useless as they tremble out in front of me. And my brain is completely fucked up right now because my clit keeps shooting sparks while the skin at my neck burns.
I have no idea which way is fucking up or down right now, but the heat in my pussy is starting to take over the fear.
My fingers bump into something firm but soft, and it takes me a second to fight through the fear clouding my brain to realize it is the padding over the center of the cross.
Here we go .
His cheek presses into the side of my face, his hot breath flowing down my neck and raising goose bumps. “Spread your legs.”
The pressure on the knife eases, slightly, and I shuffle my feet apart.
“Wider.”
Swallowing, I go as wide as I can manage without my muscles screaming.
The hand in my panties slips free, and he grips my wrist, raising my arm and then pressing my palm into the wooden arm of the cross.
A wave of relief floods my system as the knife is removed from my neck, and I feel like I can take an actual deep breath, but it stutters in my throat as both hands return to my panties and the cold steel of the knife slides against my skin beneath the waistband. I’m frozen in place as the knife is positioned point down into the crotch and Hunter’s hands leave my panties.
My stomach clenches with tension, causing the knife to jostle against my pubic bone.
“You will not resist when I move you,” he murmurs in my ear. “Wouldn’t want to risk any more unintentional cuts. Do not move otherwise.”
The way he says unintentional causes my heart to crash wildly around in my chest.
Hunter doesn’t give me a chance to respond or protest. He raises the yet-to-be-positioned hand the same way the first is, but instead of needing me to hold it in place, a thick padded fabric is wrapped around my wrist.
The handcuffs.
He never once stops touching me. Fingertips trace lines up and down my arms, across my back as he transitions to the other wrist. Then down my side as my ankle is given the same treatment.
Something happens down near my free foot, but the restraint doesn’t come. The noise of the chains clinking, like they are being dragged together, starts, then shifts from the ground to up near my wrist.
There is a loud clank, and I feel the vibration through the padding against my chest. Then a hand curves around my thigh and gently pulls until my foot comes off the ground. The knife shifts in my panties, and panic flares as I feel an edge start to press into me.
“Wait, I can’t.” My wrists and shoulders instantly take the weight of my body as a thick strap wraps around the lower part of my thigh near my knee.
Hunter’s body heat disappears from behind me, and I’m left strapped to the cross, partially hanging, partially holding myself up.
I don’t know if my heart can race any faster.
I have no idea where he is, not until fingers pinch my cheeks hard enough to make my lips part. I flinch, but his grip on my face is so tight that I can’t dislodge him.
“Stick your tongue out.”
With only the tiniest amount of hesitation, I force my tongue past my lips and immediately regret it. Something sharp bites right into the tip, shooting fire into my mouth. I choke on a gasp, but that is swallowed as his mouth closes over mine.
Our tongues mingle, a metallic flavor filling my mouth, before he sucks on my tongue, an animalistic growl ripping from his mouth as he pulls away. There is the clank of metal landing on metal, and then I’m alone again.
The seconds stretch. My shoulders start to burn, and I try to shuffle the foot on the ground in just a little. The chain pulls tight after only about an inch, which isn’t nearly enough to help the pain in my arms.
A whole minute passes in complete and utter silence.
The knife against my pussy is feeling heavy in my panties.
“Daddy?” I call out, not at all surprised to hear the tremor in the word. My heart feels like it’s going to explode.
I’m scared. He isn’t really going to hurt me, is he? This is all just a part of the scene, right?
But then I remember, at the beginning, he said I could say red and the scene would end. Yes, this is all a part of the scene. I just need to trust him, like how I trusted Darcy this morning. I need to give in to the fear, like I gave in to the ropes. And even if the others have left, and I am only here with Hunter, there is no way any of them would leave me in danger.
I’m safe. Mostly.
Just as I start to relax and lower my head to see if I can reach the padding there, a warm body presses against my back. Arms come around me, slipping between me and the padding.
I jerk in place and the knife shifts. “Oh, shit.”
The hands work my shirt away from the handle. I stay completely fucking still as the knife is removed from my panties, the pointed tip dragging up and over my pubic bone. My throat aches as he takes a step back from me, until I feel the back of the shirt shift. The tip of the blade is placed at the base of the back of my neck.
It starts to slide down my spine, and a sting like a paper cut follows in its path.
I jerk away. “No, don’t.”
But he doesn’t listen. Instead, he braces his forearm against my neck, forcing me against the padding, and places the knife over the shirt again. He begins tracing down my spine over the shirt this time, and the sting is lessened, but it’s still there.
“Daddy, no,” I cry, not wanting to feel the pain. Sweat is breaking out all over my skin, and I’m trembling, fear having burned away any pieces of pleasure.
When he lets go of me, cool air rushes along the skin of my back as the shirt falls to my sides, only attached to my body via the sleeves. I sob with relief when I can’t feel anything more than a slight sting.
A shuffling noise, and very quiet pings of metal shifting, come from behind me, and I recognize it as the roll of blades shifting.
Then I hear a snap, and a familiar buzz fills the room, and for one terrifying second, a flash of an electric carving knife fills my mind, but then something firm presses against my panties right over my clit. With one leg raised and the other spread out wide, the vibrations hit me hard, and I curl my pelvis away out of shock.
As soon as I do, there is a sharp object poking into my shoulder blade, and I flinch away from it, forcing my clit up against the vibrator.
Oh, shit.
The sharp point feels like a pin, and the thinnest of the thin blades from the roll comes to mind. A line of fire is dragged diagonally over my shoulder blade and stops before it crosses to the other side of my back.
I cry out, sharp and shrill, and I struggle until the forearm reappears across my shoulders. The vibrations against my panties are creating a small tentative fire, one that can’t seem to actually catch a light, but I am too caught up in the streak of pain radiating from my back.
The knife returns to almost the same spot and draws a new line that feels parallel to the first. I scream and try to pull away, but it only forces me harder against the vibrator.
As suddenly as both sensations started, they disappear, and I’m left panting and sobbing, with a clit that throbs and a back that burns. My head hangs down and I shake my head. I can’t do this. I can’t.
But my mouth doesn’t open and say the one word that could make it all end.
The snap of the vibrator returns, and I brace myself for the cutting to begin again. It’s on the other shoulder blade, and two lines are drawn as heat pools in my core. My struggle to get away from the line of fire only grinds me up against the vibrator. My orgasm is building, even with the burn in my back, and my brain is going to that confused place it did with Daddy’s scene.
It hurts in that one spot, but everywhere else feels good.
I shift against the vibrator as the second line is drawn, chasing the pleasure that is already dulling the pain. My boobs feel tight, and directly under the vibrator feels hot and needy.
Again, it all stops, but this time, I cry out. “Noooo.”
The break between is less this time.
More cuts are made down and across my back over and over. They cross over, run parallel, streak down my ribs, trace my spine. They are everywhere. Something wet runs down a few spots on my back, and it stings as it slips over cuts.
I hazily wonder if I am bleeding, but with the bite of the blade keeping my orgasm at bay, it’s honestly too hard to care. My entire being is on fire, and all my focus is on the vibrator as it is dragged up and down my panties from my opening to my clit. The burn on my back has turned to a quiet hum, and I wish there was nothing between me and the toy.
My pelvis thrusts against the vibrator. I’m so fucking close to coming that I’m crying, gasping wet sobs. Heat burns through my veins, my tits ache, and my core is on fire. I’m fairly certain I’m begging. I have no idea if I have permission to come, and it’s honestly way too late for me to care, because it’s right there.
But then, it’s not.
The vibrations have stopped.
“Please,” I beg, thrusting my pelvis forward, trying to find the vibrator again. “Please, I need more. Please.”
Something firm brushes the inside of my upper thigh, and I jerk in place. Then fingers run down the edge of each side of the front of my panties, pulling the wet fabric away from my pussy.
With my knee raised, my pussy would be on full display to Hunter if not for my panties. It takes my hazy brain a few seconds too long to understand that the sharp thing biting into my skin next to the wet crotch is another one of his knives.
The tightness of the black panties around my raised thigh loosens just before the blade bites into the underside of my bikini line.
A whimper escapes and tears soak my blindfold. “Please don’t cut my pussy, Daddy. Please.”
There is no reply.
Why is he ignoring me?
I feel the very tip of the blade as it passes over my lips, but it feels like only my panties are being cut. The crotch, specifically. But then, I feel the nick of the blade as it cuts through the elastic on the other side.
I cry out.
This time, I know I’m bleeding. I have to be. My suspicion is proven correct when Hunter’s mouth closes over the cut, his tongue lapping at the burning flesh.
His beard brushes against my pussy and my sobs turn to a gasp. He turns and gives the other thigh the same treatment before burying his face against my pussy.
Open-mouthed, he laps and sucks at my entrance like a man dying of thirst. I squirm, my mouth hanging open at the sensation. His tongue thrusts in and out, then lathes, soaking up all the wetness he is making.
Then, finally, he turns that mouth on my clit. Teeth graze and sparks fly. My orgasm builds once again, and because I was so close before, it doesn’t take long for me to get close to the edge.
But I need more. My pussy is empty. I need something, a finger, a cock. Anything.
“Daddy, please, I need you. I need you inside of me.”
But he ignores me again.
I sob. “Daddy, please, I need to come. Fill me up, Daddy. I’m empty, please.”
His mouth never stops, but then I feel something thick at my entrance. A finger. Thank fuck.
But no. That is not a finger.
It slips into me smoothly. Too smoothly. It has absolutely zero texture, but it’s thick. It is fucked into me over and over, almost perfectly in time with his mouth, but then his mouth releases my clit.
“Come on the handle of my knife, little dove. Make it wet for me.”
The words startle me. His knife? Holy fuck, has this asshole put the handle of his knife inside of me?
It’s impossible to think about it too much because he has gone back to eating my clit, and now that there is something inside of my pussy, there is no stopping my orgasm.
Fire burns everywhere, and I clench, screaming as my orgasm tears through me.
My pussy clenches around the knife, but Hunter doesn’t stop licking my clit. Slowly, he pulls the knife out of me, but before I can catch my breath, a naked body presses against my back and a dick surges into my pussy.
“Oh my god,” I wail, as someone starts fucking me while Hunter’s mouth is still sucking on my tortured clit.
Whoever is fucking me reaches up under the tatters of my shirt and tweaks my nipples.
My lungs burn as I try to breathe.
Everything is tingling.
Everything is burning.
It’s all hazy.
The mouth leaves my clit.
All my muscles burn.
The man fucking me makes a grunting noise and then stills, pumping once, twice, more before pulling out and stepping away.
A mournful noise leaves my lips as I’m left empty, again.
But then I feel him. Hunter. His pierced cock rubs at the entrance to my pussy, then he thrusts into me, brutally. His piercing rubs the entire way in. His hands press down on my shoulder blades, forcing me against the padded cross and lighting up the burn of the thousand cuts again.
He doesn’t take his time. He fucks up into me with intent, never once pausing for me to catch up. His hands snake over my shoulders and his fingers lace around my throat. He pulls me back against him and squeezes.
A touch of fear flickers, but my next inhale tells me I can still breathe. But my consciousness flickers as blood pounds in my ears, the palms of his hands applying pressure to either side of my neck.
I start to lose the battle to the fuzziness as I gasp and struggle to understand why the noise in the room is fading.
The last thing I hear before everything goes black is a rough male voice mumbling “mine” over and over again.