Page 10 of Razors & Ruin

She’s so pale. Poor nourishment means the woman has no length of bone; barely five foot two in her stocking feet, yet somehow well-proportioned and not lacking in robustness.

She flips her dress over her head, and my mouth goes dry at the sight of her pussy with its unruly crown of tangled hair.

I point. “Thatis going.”

She glances down, smiling, and I enjoy her blushing behind her smattering of freckles. “I was always too afraid to try.”

I sit back and gesture at myself. “I’m a barber, aren’t I?”

“So I’m in safe hands?”

“Not at all, treacle. Are you insane?”

She giggles maniacally and retreats to the vanity, returning with a water basin, a soft rag, and a tiny bar of soap.

“Bring the rest of my razors,” I say.

She returns to my side. “I don’t have good things,” she begins. “But?—”

“Shhhh.” I pull her to sit, encouraging her onto her back, and kneel between her thighs. “That will do just fine. I will do my part, and you’ll do yours.”

I lather the soap in my hands. Of course, it’s not as good as a brush, but I can pick up some good boar bristle tomorrow. Besides, feeling Nellie’s smooth skin is no hardship.

She closes her eyes and breathes a deep exhale of pent-up tension. “That’s nice,” she says. “Be careful.”

I decide not to reply. I can make no such promises; the blade twitches, lively and hot in my hand, ready to work. I tell myself I have control over it, but I’m unsure.

Something about this woman’s almost suicidally stupid devotion to me is making me want to hurt her, if only a little. Just to see what it’d take to make her turn on me.

I swipe the cold steel through her curls, holding the skin taught. Seeing the dark forest disappear is gratifying, leaving a fresh, soft pinkness behind.

I work quickly, rinsing the razor in between each pass until all that’s left is the lightly bearded area of her inner pussy lips.

Nellie hasn’t moved a muscle. I lean up and tap her nipple with the chilly metal razor handle, making her jolt.

“Hold your slutty hole open for me,” I say. “I must get in here. A close shave is warranted, don’t you think?”

She nods and does as I bid, and I feel a pull in my abdomen when I see the deep rosy hue of her entrance, still swollen from its first cock.Mycock.

My hands are waking up now, remembering. Muscle memory is strange; every smooth stroke and tiny angle adjustment comes as though ordained, and not a drop of blood is spilled.

I will not make her bleed by accident, but otherwise, I can’t say for sure.

Nellie is breathing heavily now. Her clit swells and flushes as I work around it, and she nudges her thumbs closer, teasing herself.

I take the cold steel razor and hold it against Nellie’s clit, and she gasps as the icy metal touches her sensitive skin, her body tensing in anticipation. Goosebumps rise on her flesh as I press the razor lightly, just enough to make her feel the danger.

“You’d better hold those pussy lips good and wide, treacle, or I’ll cut you. Don’t imagine I’ll pull away.”

She opens her eyes and stares at me, her mouth working open and closed. She knows she should say something to stop me, but the words die before they can be spoken.

I trace the flat edge of the razor along Nellie’s swollen labia, watching as her eyes flutter closed and her breath hitches in her throat. She’s so wet, I can feel it on my fingertips, and I know that she’s aching for my touch.

I press the razor a little harder, letting her feel the bite of the icy metal against her sensitive flesh. She gasps and her hips buck involuntarily, but I hold her down with a firm hand on her hip.

I run the blunt side of the razor up and down the length of her slit, teasing her mercilessly, and she whimpers and writhes beneath me, her clit swelling and pulsing with need.

“You’re a sick little whore, Nellie,” I whisper. I bring the razor up to her clit, holding it still for a moment, and she tenses. “You shouldn’t let me do this, and you know it. I could slash your cunt to ribbons here and now, and yet, you’re ready to come, aren’t you?”

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