I watch her crawling along the hallway on her hands and knees, her hips swaying, the way her lace knickers are perfectly taut across her exquisite round arse. I follow behind her, directing her into the lounge, waiting for her to hesitate… But she doesn’t. Good girl.
To look at her you would think she was meek, timid, but I know how strong she is. I know how much courage it takes to crawl into that room ahead of me. I’m not in front of her pulling her in by her neck or her hair; I’m not forcing her to do this. There’s significance in the fact she goes first, that I am behind her silent, but I’m not sure she will realise until later.
She kneels in the middle of the room, her head facing downwards and I can tell she’s nervous. I’ve wanted to get inside her head since the first time we met, yet we haven’t played together yet. I’ve been figuring her out, getting to know her… there’s been palpable tension, I’ve seen her eyes stare into mine longingly as I’ve told her the things I want to see her to, make her do. Now this…
I gently lift her chin, I want to see her eyes, and I want her to look at me. Instead of nervous, wide eyes, she looks eager, hungry. I look at her and I see something wild in her, she’s fierce… and she’s giving that to me.
I seat her in the dining chair and stand behind her, I pull her hair back over her shoulders and caress down her arms. I gently stroke her, kiss her neck, make her feel at ease. I tell her to be still as I wrap the rope under her chest; I pull her arms up at her back, tightly, and secure them. The rope goes back around her front, above her lace bra, I pull the rope tightly so that her breasts and restricted and pushed together tightly making them swell. Another piece of rope runs down to her crotch, round each thigh and knotting again just over her knickers. I pull tightly on the rope to show her and she squirms. Finally I secure her ankle to the legs of the chair, spread wide apart and exposed for me. She’s breathing heavily now, writhing against the rope at her crotch and as she does so, her breasts move back and forth, tighter against the rope.
So fucking beautiful.
I can’t help but touch her, tease her by pulling the rope, moving the knot over her cunt and delighting in watch her writhe and moan. I pull her hair, and bite her gently; I want her to feel my grip over her soft skin.
I think back to when she first arrived, when I had made her strip, how nervous she looked. What a contrast to now, the noises coming from this small girl are animalistic.
I ask her if she wants to know what comes next, she nods fervently.
I tell her that what’s next is a treat… and if she finishes her treat then we will continue. The look on her face is that of confusion and intrigue. I turn behind me and reach for her treat, two items, presented on a glass tray. I bring it round to her face and show her what it is. More confusion.
The first item; a sharp razor blade. The second; a bright pink lolly-pop, perfect to suck on. With a razor blade perfectly enclosed in its middle.
This is your treat, my sweet girl. She stops moving, stops writhing as her eyes take in what’s in front of her. I can see her process the image, I can hear her heart beat.
I lift the razor blade from the tray and bring it up close to her eyes, I want her to look closely, see the sharp edges. I press it to skin on her neck; I want her to feel the cold metal on her skin.
I don’t want to hurt her, much. I just want to fill her mind and her senses.
I move away from her neck and down to her breasts. I lightly drag the corner of the blade across her breasts in a straight line… scratching softly as I go. Small specks of blood start to appear, like pin pricks on a dotted line.
Her eyes roll back in her head and her lips part more than a little. Her hips start moving, pushing her arse further down into the seat and then forward again.
The room is silent, apart from ragged breathing and pounding hearts, it feels as though the silence lasts forever.
I ask her if she wants her second treat. I’m staring intently at her, her eyes fixed on the glazed pink sweet. Silence.
Then, deep ragged breaths.
Eventually, she nods, as I knew she would.
Well done, I tell her as I stroke her face. I kiss her lips and draw away slowly, before slipping the lolly into her mouth and tell her to suck.
This beautiful girl does as she’s told, without hesitance. She sucks on as I watch intently. The pink glass-like circle in her mouth getting smaller, and smaller.
“Sweet isn’t it?” I ask her.
She nods, barely moving her head, but she nods and her eyes light up.
I look at her and wonder how she’s feeling inside right now – her body gives her away, the way she’s writhing softly in the chair – but I wish I could be inside her mind right now. As much as I can feel her fear and excitement, I want more.
The pink glacier starts to disappear around the metal edges; her widened eyes the main indicator. She’s scared. She should be.
I move myself so that I’m kneeling beside her, my face just by hers. I don’t know why but I can’t stop pressing my face against her cheek, taking in her scent. The whole room smells sweet.
Muffled little cries and moans escape her lips, the way someone cries when they don’t want something to happen… but it’s too late for her.
The sweet has disappeared. The white stick that was holding it has fallen from her wet lips. Her eyes firmly close, like she can’t bear to see me anymore. More cries and moans.
Shhhh, I tell her as I gently tilt her face forward.
Her chest is heaving and her stomach is twitching, I wonder if the metal is making her feel sick. If she will taste blood in her mouth and retch.
“Is it cold, sweet girl?” Small nods but frantic in motion.
“Keep sucking” I order her.
I can hear her terrified breathing through her nose, it’s like a stammer. She can’t quite get it right.
Saliva starts falling from her lips, messily landing on her breasts and dripping down her stomach. I know the chair will be just as wet when I take her off.
She hasn’t opened her eyes the entire time. When I ask her if she can taste her own blood she finally lets go and starts crying. She lets the reality of what’s happening sink into her mind and just… let’s go of herself and let the tears flow.
Still holding her head in place, I put my hand to her mouth and tell her to open her eyes and spit the blade out
She hesitates, a mixture of fear and perhaps not wanting it to be over… I can’t tell just yet.
Slowly she pushes the blade through her teeth, careful, I tell her, and drops it down onto my hands.
“Open your eyes, lovely”
Bracing herself, she opens her eyes and looks at my hands.
No blood, just her saliva. The blade wasn’t even sharp.