Page 6 of Tainted Wings of Failure

My shoulders cramp and a sharp pain shoots up my neck as he pins my hands behind my back, followed by the sharp sound as he ties me up with zip ties. Wiggling my hips, I push against his erection as it bores into my ass, drawing a low moan from him.

"What a needy little thing you are."

"Did you find my little present?"

"You mean this?" His hand shoots in front of me, holding my dripping underwear.

"Yes," I moan out loud.

"You're such a naughty slut." He growls, "Leaving your filthy panties as a trail for me." I shut my eyes as his hand holding my underwear collides with my face, forcing the fabric right up against my nose and mouth. The scent of my own arousal fills my nostrils and I hold my breath. His thumb traces the curve of my lower lip before pressing against it, causing my mouth to fall open and allowing him to force my underwear inside. The taste of myself spreads across my tongue as he shoves it deeper.

With my nose free, fresh air rushes into my lungs and I moan around the fabric stuffed into my mouth. I open my eyes again, but the glimpse of moonlight is short-lived as I am swallowed by complete darkness as a piece of fabric covers my eyes. Every muscle in my body tingles in anticipation, my remaining senses gradually heightening as he blindfolds me.

"Let's see how much of a slut you really are," he says in a low voice. One of his hands slips under the puffy skirt, pushing the fabric up and exposing my damp skin to the chilly night. A cold shiver runs down my spine, goosebumps rising on my skin at the sensation of the brisk air and his rough fingers trailing over my soaking cunt, parting my sticky folds before teasingly flicking over my aching clit. I let out a muffled moan as two of his fingers slide inside me without any resistance, my body eagerly welcoming him.

"So fucking wet for me." His chest vibrates as he growls and forces his fingers deeper. My breathing picks up while my moans turn into high-pitched whimpers as he pumps inside me in a forceful rhythm.

But out of the blue, he stops. I want to scream the moment his fingers slide out of me, but before I can even beg for more, he lifts me off the ground and throws me over his shoulder.

The smell of lavender fills my lungs and a rush of relief drains the tension from my muscles. Instead of taking me to an abandoned hut like last time, he took me home. Which I'm thankful for, because as exciting as the hut is, last time I got a UTI and was miserable.

With a bounce in his step, Noah carries me up the stairs. Not long after, my body lands on the familiar surface of our soft sheets, the fabric soothing against my skin. Unable to see or move freely, I squirm in the sheets, kicking my feet in an attempt to find a more comfortable position with my arms still tied behind my back. His fingers wrap around my ankle, and I gasp as he drags my body to the edge of the bed.

"Stop that irritating moving around," he snarls in a threatening tone and I swallow the lump in my throat and freeze. Letting him push my leg up, and as if on autopilot, I move the other one, exposing myself to him. "That’s it, good girl.”

At the sound of his pocketknife snapping open, my heart rate quickens, drumming against my ribcage. My breath stutters as the cold blade touches the heated skin of my inner thigh. A soft whimper slip from my lips as the sharp blade scrapes across my skin, trailing down towards my aching cunt. My eyes fly open beneath the blindfold, my lips parting in a silent moan as the sharp edge of the metal flicks against my folds.

"No…ah,” I choke out his name, muffled by the fabric stuffed in my mouth but he shushes me before sliding the dull back of the blade between my folds, drawing a moan from me as the cold metal passes over the small slit of my opening. My muscles stiffen, my whole body trembles as he mimics the motion of cutting, repeatedly sliding over my sensitive clit, sending waves of pleasure through my body.

The moment he withdraws the knife, I relax into the sheets. Only to tense again at the sound of the fabric being torn, followed by the sensation of the dull end sliding up my stomach, up between my breasts, slicing the dress off my body, leaving me completely bare in front of him. This is something I will never understand. He buys me the most beautiful dresses, worth thousands of dollars, only to destroy them at the end of our little game.

"Noah…" I call to him again, barely audible.

"Huh?" he hums, his free hand colliding with my face, forcing a finger into my mouth and pulling out my thong. "You want to say something?"

"Cut me loose, please." I wince.

"Not yet," he says with a devilish tone in his voice. "Can you believe how beautiful you look right now? So flawless and perfect…”

Beautiful? Sure, who wouldn't enjoy this view? I'm at his mercy, tied up, blindfolded, stripped of my dignity and willing, eager for him to devour me. A cold shiver runs down my spine as the sharp tip of the knife brushes the skin of my inner thigh, dangerously close to my cunt. "Maybe I should carve my name into your skin."

"God, yes," I moan out loud at his proposal. I would love for him to mark me, to brand me as his. Countless times I have begged him to do it, but he refuses every time, not wanting to spoil his spotless dove.

He hisses in disapproval, his flat hand colliding with my cunt in a series of punishing slaps, drawing several loud gasps from me, only to choke at the sound as the cold blade returns to my beaten cunt, soothing the burning pain. The sharp tip flicking against my folds, poking my clit before it’s twisted around and the dull end slips between my folds. One, two, three, four…I count each time he slides the knife along my clit, imitating the act of cutting, before he slides it far enough and I feel the rounded end of the handle press against my tight opening.

My breathing picks up, my chest heaving in a frantic rhythm, as he thrusts the handle into me. A long, throaty moan falls from my lips as he drives it deeper into me. My muscles tense at the intrusion of the solid object.

"Good girl, relax." He hums as he continues to push the knife into me, until the cold metal of the rounded edge of the blade that connects to the handle hits my opening. "If you could see how well your sweet pussy swallows the knife."

My whole body quivers as I force myself to relax. With one deep breath after another, my muscles loosen around the intrusion and my mind begins to clear. The reality of the situation is beginning to sink in, and I realize what dimension this little game of ours has taken on. The images of him holding the knife by the blade, his hand covered in blood, dripping onto my cunt and coating me in his blood flash before my inner eye.

A loud, guttural moan rises from the depths of my stomach as he withdraws the knife, only to plunge it back into me with force. It stings, but it's so damn sweet at the same time. This isn't the first time he's done this, knives, guns, or other questionable objects he likes to shove up my pussy; he gets a thrill out of it. We’ve tried a lot and as long as he cleans everything or uses condoms to protect me from infection, I'm fine with whatever he wants to put inside me because I know I don't have to worry about him choosing objects that would cause me too much harm.

His free hand lands on my pubic bone, his thumb pressing down on my clit, rolling the sensitive and swollen bundle of nerves. He picks up the pace at which he drives the knife into me, and I throw my head back into the sheets. "So beautiful, you were made for this, made to take everything I offer you." My legs are quivering and tears sting in the corners of my eyes at the oncoming orgasm. The perfectly curved handle penetrates that one precious spot inside me while his thumb circles my clit.

"I-I can't," I whimper when my stomach cramps and my muscles tighten.

"Come for me, baby bird…come all over the blade your cunt craves so badly," he croons and with another deep thrust of the knife, I reach my orgasm. A loud moan, similar to a scream, falls from my mouth as my muscles grip the handle tightly, immobilizing the object. I try to squeeze my legs together, but Noah stops me, his free hand slamming into my kneecap to keep me spread. "No, bad girl," he growls. My muscles strain from the intensity of my orgasm and the refusal to do the one thing to help me ease the sensation. Every pulse of my muscles pulls on the knife, trying to draw it deeper. The cold metal of the blade prickles against my aching opening, the sharp edge tickling my folds as Noah holds on to the blade to keep it from entering me and slicing me open from the inside out.

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