Page 62 of Their Cruel Love

In the meantime, we get to play with Phoebe.

My cock is happy with that. Even if, inside, I’m freaked out, just a bit.

How can I keep her safe if the whole island is a trap?

Maybe it isn’t?

Maybe.

I check the pile of things I’ve placed on the floor then I pick up the scissors and advance on her. I open the blades, close them, over and over.

She wriggles in Razor’s arms, trying to escape the inevitable.

“Snicker-snack, little girl. Punishment time.” Then I shiftRazor’s hand and kiss her, finger her below, pushing her dress into her pussy, until she’s whimpering and panting in cute little gasps around my mouth. Then Razor muzzles her again. Wide-eyed and looking out from behind his cage of fingers, she is so defenseless and edible.

Maybe I should eat her. Get her off, then show her off, with her arousal dripping from her cunt. Sometimes I wonder why I’m like this, and then I meet a woman like her, like Phoebe, who wants it. Then? I don’t give a fuck.

“Do you want to keep your nipples? Then stay very,verystill.”

Her dress is made of thin white material, and I easily pinch up a fold over her left nipple. She’s breathing hard and fast, staring at where I have the scissors ready to snap closed and slice off a circle of the fabric.

I wait for her to stop moving, to stop twitching when I look at the scissors. Her shoes have been kicked off ages ago and lie on the floor to the side. She’s only trembling now, stops pushing at the floor with her bare feet.

“Ready?” Slowly, I close the scissors, and they make the distinctive sound of metal shearing through cloth. They snick shut. The circle of cloth flutters to the floor then I go to the second nipple. This time, I make sure to grab some of her along with the dress and she shrieks.

“Tsk.” I let her flesh slip through my fingers and grab only cloth, though I’m sure that nipple is still smarting with hurt.

Quickly, I snip through the dress, ignoring her anxiousmmmpfnoises.

“You’re fine. I missed.” I move away and pick up the two clover clamps connected by a chain then return to her, slowly, admiring the girl with the dress with convenient holes.

“Nice,” Razor says, playing with one of her tits, squeezing it as I descend.

I suck on them both, dampening her and the fabric. Once I have her moaning, I squash each nipple between finger and thumb, then clamp them, and her noises of pleasure turn into chaotic, desperate breathing.

When I straighten, she’s staring at me; her eyes flick their focus from my face then downward to her breasts, and she whines and sucks on her lip, as if she cannot believe what I’ve done.

I tap the chain connecting them. The weight of the metal will make the clamps hurt, randomly, as she walks.

“Below too?” I cock my head, considering this, then inch her dress upward. “I do have one more.”

“Temporarily only,” Razor suggests. “We don’t want her clit falling off.”

“Hmmm. No. We don’t.” I play with the scissors again, regarding how Razor holds her captive with that face-smooshing hand and an arm below her pretty, partially bared breasts. “Might make a mess of the dress.”

He laughs. “It’s not going to be wearable after what you did.”

“Truth.” So I kneel and start snipping, cutting a section away, making it easy to see, touch, and lick her pussy. Making it easier to place a clamp on her engorged clit. I’m still aiming, still thinking about it when?—

When I get kicked.

“Fuck!” The clamp goes skidding.

A glint of merciless glee is in her eyes, or in what I can see of them.

Rubbing my chest where she kicked me with both feet won’t help, and Razor is laughing.

I go to my bag, retrieve another item, then return to her and bag her head with the leather mask.

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