Page 7 of Damaged
Leaning my head back against the wall, I look down my nose at him with a sneer across my face. He moves closer, still with that damn blade in his hand. My eyes jump from his to the blade and back again. He thinks that he’s threatening me with that knife. Little does he know, I’m into knife and blood play. Like I said…masochist with a high pain tolerance.
Lifting the shiny blade, he rests the tip at the hollow of my throat. He presses it into my skin before letting it drift down to one of my nipples. He circles it with just the tip, making the areola constrict even more at the touch. The reaction makes him chuckle, like he thinks he’s turning me on. My glaring eyes focus on his face. He could probably be classified as classically handsome…if he wasn’t such a dick.
He moves the blade to the center of my chest, where I have a mandala tattoo that spans under both my breasts from one side to the other with a sweeping piece peaking up between them. He moves the cold blade to the center of my tattoo, pressing the blade in, making me grit my teeth as I feel a drop of blood run down over my bare stomach. He watches how the blood trickles down my flat abdomen.
“Motherfucker…if you fuck up my tattoo, I will fucking end you,” I grit out. Not worried about the pain, just the fact that I would have to get my beautiful tattoo fixed. My words make him finally glance up to meet my eyes. He makes a shallow cut wherethe knife is, making the blood stream down slowly, giving me a menacing smile.
Laying the blade flat against my skin once again, he sweeps it back and forth, smearing the blood all over my stomach slowly. My eyes never leave his as he trails the blade through the blood.
“You’re not in charge here, slut. You’re here for whatever I want. And right now, I want to watch you bleed.”
The side of my lips lifts in a deadly smirk, with thoughts of what I’m going to do to him.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
The blade falters on its trek down my abdomen, but is then removed from my skin, and for a quick second I can see something change in the set of his eyes. Anger crosses his face at my words and is now etched in the furrow of his brow. Closing the knife with a loudsnapin the quiet room, he stuffs it in his back pocket. My eyes follow that movement quickly before coming back to connect with his dark ones.
Stepping up to me, he grips the sides of my loose-fitting pants, yanking them down my legs harshly, bringing my underwear with them, but just to the middle of my thighs.
Pulling the pants completely off, he brings both of my legs up with them. I grunt at the pain in my wrists from having all my weight on them and the scraping of the material along my outer thighs from him pulling so forcefully.
I know I look ridiculous with my panties only halfway down my legs. Working to get my feet back under me to take the strain off my arms, he roughly tosses my pants to the ground.
“Fucking asshole,” I grit between my teeth. I'm just happy I still have my socks on to keep my feet somewhat warm on this cold cement floor.
His eyes roam my body, landing on the white cotton panties. He grabs them in both of his greedy fists, ripping them from my body, making a hiss leave my lips. Grabbing my naked hips, hepulls the bottom part of my body out from the wall, flipping me around to face it. My arms are twisted above my body now, and he pushes me violently against the wall, making me grunt from the movement. My nipples scrape against the rough cement, making my body try to pull away from it.
Stretching my legs wide, he secures each ankle to the manacles near the floor, restricting me from moving at all, making me go on my tippy toes in order to keep the pressure off my wrists, which are already throbbing from being twisted in the way they are. My calves tighten, and I feel a muscle cramp coming from how he has me twisted and stretched tight.
“Let’s see who has a good time now. You…or me?” he says with a little laugh.
With my arms twisted, my head is also restricted in its movement. I hear him moving things around on the metal table again for a moment, but then the room goes quiet again. I can hear him moving behind me, but otherwise, the only thing heard is the cold air whooshing in from the vents, chilling the room even more.
My body shivers uncontrollably from the cold and the anticipation of what’s to come. I think that is the most unnerving part. Not seeing exactly what he's doing. Not knowing what he plans to do to me.
Will he cut me again?
What does he have planned?
The seconds move by slowly, causing my heart to race. My breathing escalates. I try to calm both, because like I said, I fucking hate surprises.
I feel the sting of the leather before I even register the sound. Pain erupts from my upper back over my shoulder blades across my intricately tattooed gray scale angel wings. My wings span all of my upper back down below my waist. The tips of the wings touch the two small dimples above my ass.
I grind my teeth, not letting a sound escape. I refuse to give him what he wants. He wants to hear me scream, but he will have to do a lot more to get that out of me.
Another slash erupts across my upper back, but from the other side, damn near in the same place as the last one. This one makes me suck in a harsh breath and grunt as I press into the wall. My body is trying to escape the brutal attack.
I can hear him getting frustrated at my resilience. Two more quick strikes, this time along my lower back, and these make me cry out slightly because whatever he’s hitting me with whipped around my waist to the soft skin there. That area is sensitive, and the force with which he put behind those hits I felt in my spine.
“There you go, little slut. Give me what I want,” he says with a smile in his voice, slashing once again in the same place but from the other side.
“Fuck. You.” I grit out, panting as I feel a little blood trickle down the curve of my ass. This fucker broke skin on those last hits.
I’m sweating now. My body is soaked, which isn’t good with this cold air and the leather whipping device. The moisture on my skin is going to make the strikes even worse.
I'm going to fucking ruin him before ending his pathetic life.
Walking up to me, he rubs his fingers harshly over the new abrasions, smearing the blood all over. The sting from his touch over the open wounds makes me hiss loudly, gritting my teeth and jolting my body trying to move away from his vile touch, even though I can’t get far, being shackled to the wall.
