Chapter 28

Despite time’s relentless ticking, I stood in silence, fixed on Mandy’s swaying figure. Tiny whimpers escaped her as she twisted on the toes of glossy black stilettos. With arms stretched taut over her head, the shackles on her wrists glimmered.

The tiny triangles of black lace lingerie did nothing but enhance sleek, enticing curves. In the one stretched across her pelvis, glittery darkness adhered to the outline of a perfect seam. The upper pair were damn near lifted from both jiggling pert cones by twin stiff points.

She was mine. Trusted me, her lover, and, yes, her master. With a final gulp, I raised my hands. Time to push another boundary.

No sooner had my fingertips skimmed shaking ribs than a desperate groan rushed from ruby lips. At each gentle snag of lace on sleek hips or the taut straps of the straining bra, her breathing sped. She twisted and thrust, trying to stay under my gliding palms, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. By then, I’d become quite the expert at binding someone, human or not. The ropes and shackles groaned, declaring her struggles were in vain.

“Pl-please,” she uttered before flicking that tongue over glossy, parted lips. “Mmm, please.”

A smile slid onto my face as I glimpsed a camera. Ka-ching, ka-ching. The more begging, the more she’d earn. One of the hard rules of porn; at least the flavor we were about to attempt. The sexy vixen had said to push boundaries.

When I left her moaning to pull out a genuine imitation piece-of-shit Bowie knife, my grin widened. It was huge, gaudy and so dull it was better used as a hammer. However, the weapon was an amazing prop, with all but a two-inch section of its blade dulled. Even that portion was nowhere near razor sharp.

Yet, it could slice through lingerie.

As I stepped towards her, my smile broadened further. The gleaming metal tip landed between her heaving breasts, and she gasped. I checked the sound monitor. Rapid green spikes. Perfect. The sudden shaking in her bound limbs also meant even more money for her.

With the blade’s sharp section aligned, a quick jerk and both halves of the bra parted before flailing from her chest. The owner of both jiggling freed cones yelped, and the chains creaked as she swayed forward.

“Plea—”

Her voice ended in a yip when the flat of the icy blade tapped a stiff nipple. As each was mashed and nudged in turn, she could do nothing but groan ever louder. The bindings strained as she torqued, trying to avoid the chilly metal. A quick poke of a rubbery stem with the dull tip got her to shiver.

“Oh, God!” Her breathing hitched. “M-master. Mmm, please. Ah, nuh-uh. No, mmm.”

Words failed her as the giant blade wandered her ribs. With each camera location locked in my mind, my movements ensured they caught every forceful twist of her shaking body. After two swift slices cut away the rest of the bra, I stepped clear, letting the cameras capture the slow tumble of torn lace onto the rubber matting.

For a while, I stood out of frame, leaving her to sway, displaying wobbling tits to the watching lenses. Her moans serenaded each powerful shake of those lean muscles. At last, I dodged closer and snatched the silver chain dangling between those perky cones.

At my sudden tug on the collar, she groaned louder. After pulling her toward me until those gleaming curves made the bindings creak, I slapped the flat of the knife upward between her thighs. At the soggy splat into her panties, she yelped, and I chuckled.

A glittery dribble slithered along the broad blade. The sweet scent of leaking desire filled my nose. Yep, flashed one helluva smile at the cameras. Pity they hadn’t invented smell-o-vision yet; she’d have made even more money. The bound woman moaned as I pressed the metal upwards to mash dripping lace.

“No! Mmm, master. No, please.”

My heart froze. My glance whipped from the camera to her. Did she really mean it? Or was she playing a role? Her glossy lips smacked. In slow motion, her pelvis twisted into the blade.

Ah, had me a sexy actress.

With a grin, I flicked the knife to her waistband. One swift slice and half the soaking lace peeled away. Another and the ruined panties tumbled to the floor between quivering legs. Unleashed, two trails of glistening fluid raced down shaking inner thighs. With a hand on the collar to keep her from jerking too much, I ran the dulled steel along a weeping slit.

“My slut?” I whispered.

“Um-hmm,” she murmured. “Always.”

Although I’d expected a reaction, the first nudge of the Bowie knife’s icy back into her prominent crimson clit got me a full-throated cry. Her figure bucked, and the straps creaked. On every limb, the shackles rattled as her cries and shudders continued. Between the screams, she huffed as ever shinier metal rolled the angry little bud.

At last, I stepped away. Sweat twinkled on her flawless, sun-kissed skin. Swift flicks of my wrist sent silvery droplets from the dulled weapon to the floor. While my footsteps circled her, staying clear of the cameras, she continued to contort and sway in the creaking chains as aftershocks battered her. Both shuddering legs were coated in rivulets of sweetness.