Page 72 of Brutal Game

“Quiet.” The word smacked against the ice, echoing in the huge arena.

Shocked, she shut up.

I stroked my right hand up her hips, the sides of her ribs, to the front of the jersey that still pissed me off. Locating the Swiss Army knife in my pocket with my left hand, I opened it, gripped the front, and started cutting.

That got her talking again. “Jack, what the actual fuck, I swear to god I’m gonna?—”

Nope, couldn’t have that. I quickly sliced through the tough polyester, all the way down, careful not to cut her pretty skin, until it hung open over her arms.

Bending down, I sliced through the leg holes of her panties. Once they were free, I balled them up and shoved them in her mouth. She tried to talk around them, to spit them out, but I’d stuffed them so deep, all she could do was mumble around them.

Much better.

Returning to my original task, I finished cutting thejersey, slicing through the sleeves, until it fell off her body, revealing another high-necked tank top. Mostly satisfied, I picked up the pieces, walking around to the other side of the net, facing her.

Time for the next step.

Anticipation filling me, I stood in front of her and slowly sliced the jersey into ribbons. The knife slipped, cutting my thumb. Blood dripped onto the jersey, and my thumb burned where I’d cut it, the copper scent making me slightly nauseous, but I didn’t care. My eyes were on Aviva’s, which flashed a brighter fire than they had before.

“This is what will happen if you ever wear someone else’s jersey again. From now on, when you come to my games, you wear my jersey, and only mine. Disobey me, and I’ll slice up something worse.” Like the player whose number she wore. “Got me?”

She yelled something through her balled-up panties, but they were an effective gag.

I let the warning sink in for a moment as the tiny pieces of nylon and polyester fluttered to the ground. She fell silent, watching as they gathered in a pathetic heap. Finally satisfied, I flicked the Swiss Army knife shut and dropped it on the ice.

Time for lesson two.

Picking my stick up off the floor, I tested it, taking a few practice swings. I’d never used it for this purpose before, so I had to make sure I got the angle and momentum right. I wanted to bruise her, not break her.

That was new. Before all I’d wanted was to break her.

Shaking my head, I zeroed in on my target. Her ass was round and juicy, framed by the dimples on her thighs. Pale, pink, and just begging for what came next.

“This is going to hurt, princess,” I warned her, and then swung.

Thwack.

The blade heel made direct contact with her ass. The sound it made was satisfying, but nowhere near as satisfying as Aviva’s shocked scream.

I pulled back and swung again.

Thwack.

Another shriek, partially muted by the gag.

Thwack.

Thwack.

Thwack.

My cock, already stiff from seeing her bare body, grew so hard it hurt. Seeing her cheeks turn red, hearing her cries and screams, was maybe the hottest fucking thing I’d ever experienced in my life so far—and I’d seen her gagging around my cock.

Thwack.

Thwack.

“Jack, no, no, stop, please—” she tried to beg around the panties.

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