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‘He loved to brag. I heard him often enough. He’d tell people about how much a woman cost, and what he’d done to them. After the night of your party, I was handed around. Touched, hurt and intimidated by nameless men. He knew them well; they were comfortable together in their delinquency. He kept me for less than a week before I was sold along. I’ve gone back and extinguished anyone whose name I remembered. I was too late to get to see your father choke on his guts, but that group were the instigators. The ones who had women go out and recruit others under false pretences to use before making a quick profit from them.’
Harriet jutted the blade of the knife into my stomach, only shallowly, but enough to bring a well of blood to the surface, pooling around the metal.
‘Fuck,’ I cried out, trying to keep myself still. ‘Stop. I don’t know who they are.’
Her brow furrowed as she slowly removed the knife, her eyes delighting at the red path that trailed down my side. Standing, she yanked my trousers down, examining my dick. ‘It’s caused you and me so much pain, hasn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ I admitted.
‘I should just get rid of it. Save you the trouble of it in the future.’
‘No,’ I breathed. She stroked the tip of the bloodied knife over my length, it clanked against the piercings on my cock. The sensation brought my cock to life. I’d still not had release since my capture. Silently, I begged it to go. To not give her the satisfaction of being able to arouse me so easily.
My eyes widened as Harriet pulled down her combat pants, kicking them and her panties off before climbing on top of me. My dick was fully erect within seconds. I wanted to strangle the fucking thing. Even with blood oozing out of a cut on my stomach and the insane bitch standing beside me, it was still eager to please.
‘How much do you think it would hurt for me to remove it?’ she asked, walking her fingers up the length. Her voice was light and conversational, completely alien from the threats she was making.
‘Please, just let me go. I don’t have any information for you.’
‘It’d be a shame not to experience those piercings before I cut your fucking dick off. This time it’ll be on my terms, and the only thing you’ll be excreting is blood.’
Writhing my hips, I tried to stop her, but the moment her hot cunt settled against the bulbous head of my dick, I was a goner. Her pussy lips spread as she sank down on top of me, the piercings disappearing one by own.
‘Fucking hell,’ she moaned, her knife-wielding hand resting against my bloodied stomach as she took what she wanted.
After the weeks of torment, she felt like fucking heaven. My eyes fluttered closed as I took a moment to just feel. The heat of her, the slick wetness that engulfed me. Her warm thighs against my hips.
‘This is how I’m going to remember you,’ she gasped as she rocked her hips. ‘I’m going to replace the memory of that night with this one, seeing you bleed and struggle as I end your life, just like you ended mine all those years ago.’
The klaxons going off in my head warred with the intense pleasure she wrangled within my dick. Each arch of her hips had me on edge. By God, she looked beautiful even with the unhinged rage that filled her face. My breath hitched as she slid to the head of my dick before sinking fully back onto me, my piercings hitting her clit with every inch she stole. Her blonde hair tipped over her face as she picked up speed, and I lost all control. So close. She brought me to the edge, and I fought to hold back, believing her threats to dismember me.
Right as tears sprung, knowing I couldn’t hold back any longer, she sunk her knife into my stomach, sending a shooting pain through my system. My strangled cry made her giggle as she removed her knife and stuck her finger into the small hole it left. The whole time, she kept me fully seated within her. The stabbing had chased off my orgasm until she began moving again, forcing me to descend into a mad pleasure, pain cycle.
I had no doubt she was going to kill me one way or another.
And enjoy every fucking moment of doing so.
TWENTY-TWO
HARRIET
I hated how good he felt inside me.
I hated the way he moaned as I rocked my hips, crashing my clit down over his piercings.
I loved the way his face contorted in pain every time I punched a new hole into his stomach. It took an enormous amount of restraint to only let the knife sink in a little. What I wanted was to turn him into a soppy red mess begging me to stop. But I didn’t want him to die yet.
Just to suffer.
‘Look at you whimpering, Alfie. Not even a knife in the gut stops you from trying to fill me up with your disgusting cum, does it?’
‘No,’ he groaned, his muscles contracting as I stabbed the knife into his side. Only a centimetre or so. I’d tortured enough men to know how much I could give and still let them live. Or that with one cut I could kill them outright. Knowledge was power, and I’d learned the trades of death and pleasure well.
Pressure was building between my thighs from the feeling of his thick, pierced dick spreading me open. It was a delicious sight. And hating him almost made each jolt of pleasure more heady.
‘Give me a reason not to kill you, Alfie.’ I shifted against him, quickening my pace as I chased down my orgasm.
‘I want to help you. I don’t have names, but I can help.’
