Page 53 of Ruining Vanessa

“Hey, Jules?” I say casually, glancing at him. “Why don’t you finger her while I cut her up a little? She’d probably appreciate the distraction.”

I want to be the scary one, not Giulio, and I don’t like that I’m not.

“Sure,” Giulio says casually. He pulls one of the stools over so he can sit next to the table. Vanessa whimpers when Giulio puts his hand on her thigh, drumming his fingers. “It’ll be hot, watching her orgasm while you’re making her bleed. Ooh, like that one guy, what’s-his-face. He really didn’t like me jacking him while you opened him up.”

I smirk at Giulio. “That’s because he was straight,” I point out.

“So are you,” he mocks me.

My smirk turns into a glower. “Careful, or I’ll turn this on you,” I threaten Giulio, even though we both know it’s a fucking craft knife. It would only be a real threat if I had the karambit out… but Vanessa doesn’t need to know that.

She still seems just as terrified, and really, for a craft knife, it’s pretty fucking sharp. It splits skin with ease, though it won’t scar as badly as the curved blade would.

Will.

She’s not getting out of this without her blood soaking my favorite knife.

“Please don’t,” Vanessa whispers, and I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or to Giulio. If I had to guess, I’d probably say Giulio, because she hates it when we make her orgasm while doing shit like this.

Giulio’s fingers go between her legs, and he looks almost bored while he starts massaging her clit. Vanessa tries to close her legs, but Giulio brings his other hand down on her thigh to keep her in place.

“What part turns you on more, the blood or the cutting?” Giulio asks me, completely ignoring Vanessa’s pleas.

I don’t pay them any more attention than he does. “The blood,” I say. “But the cutting is fun, too. Mm. It’s a good thing she’s clean.”

As my misgivings start to wear off, I’m getting more interested, more excited. My cock throbs in my pants, and I haven’t even made the first real cut. I do it then, slicing into the skin just beneath her small breast, and I’m rewarded with a little cry of surprise.

The real pain won’t set in for a few seconds at least, but the sharpness is something new for a spoiled, pampered thing like her.

It takes a moment to well up with blood, and I lean down to lick it as it forms little bubbles. It doesn’t drip blood; it isn’t deep enough for that.

The next one is. It takes a few seconds to fill with blood and start to slowly trickle down her ribs, and the third is even sharper, harsher. She’s crying out, sobbing and begging me to stop, and I roll my eyes. “It’s just an x-acto knife,” I tell her. “Just be glad I’m not using something bigger.”

“Do you even have anything bigger?” Giulio asks cheekily. “Don’t worry, Vanessa, Damien’s not around.”

I glower at him, but my attention doesn’t stray long from the pretty, writhing woman atop the counter I use to dress my kills. I want her blood there, to know it was there with all the rest, and the next few slices are a little deeper.

But they aren’t enough.

I wasn’t going to scar her, because I don’t want Damien bitching at me, but this just is too little for me. Trickles of blood are nothing.

I toss the small knife onto the table near Vanessa’s feet, yanking the karambit out of my back pocket and unsheathing it. As my fingers close around the hilt, I feel so much better. This is more familiar.

Usually, I don’t give a fuck about leaving scars—the wounds will never heal anyway. I can use just enough pressure to break the skin without leaving permanent marks, more cat scratches than anything else like I had the last time, but no.

I swipe at her thigh in one swift motion, and this time, the wound immediately blossoms with blood. It rolls down her thigh, and I groan as I watch the flow. “That’s more like it,” I say, gripping myself through my pants with my other hand as she cries out.

Giulio trails one finger through the blood and leaves a long smear on Vanessa’s thigh. “It’s always hot watching you do this.”

Vanessa’s sobs get louder. It always takes a second for the pain to kick in, especially when I’m using such a sharp blade, and this is the part I revel in—flowing blood, tears, begging…

“Make her come,” I say, my voice ragged. “Then fuck her, Jules. I want to watch you fuck her while she’s all bloody.”

“Keep cutting her,” Giulio orders, his own voice unsteady. He shoves one of her legs up, giving me a great view of her cunt, then he shoves his bloodied fingers inside her. He thrusts aggressively, as if he were fucking her with his cock, and Vanessa starts whimpering and shaking her head back and forth.

“Does that feel good?” I ask Vanessa, who looks at me with wide-eyed shock on her expression. For all we’ve done to her, I doubt it’s ever been this intense. I smile at her as I slide the blade across her other thigh, where it will leave a matching scar. She screams this time, as though it hurts so much more than the last time.

Maybe the mixture of the cutting and Giulio’s fingers inside of her makes it worse, but I don’t care. I fumble with my jeans with my left hand, freeing my cock from the confines of my pants with a sigh of relief.

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