Belialwolf
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Joined: 8/17/2004
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Chapter 2
The conversation was excruciating, the voice coming out the other end of the phone was like some verbal form of Chinese water torture. The person who had called her was seemingly lacking all of the necessary elements a normal person would use to carry a conversation: namely clarity, brevity, and most importantly a point. As she listened, Betty became less and less interested in what the voice on the telephone was saying and more and more interested in how creatively she could cut the conversation short. "Oh I'm sorry, I have a phone call on the other line, gotta go! Oh I'm sorry, the building is on fire, gotta go! Oh I'm sorry, the aliens just arrived to take me back to the mother ship, gotta go!" Every so often she would look over at her computer, glancing at the story that lay there unashamedly on the screen, those vivid words beckoning to her silently. The lurid story had painted a vividly sexual picture in her mind and she simply couldn't stop thinking about that poor woman. What would it be like to be in that situation at that very moment, to be blindfolded and meticulously unraveled by a mysterious and controlling stranger? How would it feel, faced with the deadly certainty of a knife being waved in front of her while she was blindfolded. What was he going to do with a knife? Was he going to hurt her? Or did he have other, more sinister plans? Betty couldn’t stand the anticipation. She had to find out, the suspense was nibbling away at her little by little.
"Oh I'm sorry, I have a meeting that I have to go now. Can I call you back later?" Admittedly, Betty liked the alien excuse much better, but she figured this sounded a little more believable. Slamming the phone down with relish she turned back to the story eagerly, picking up where she had left off with hungry eyes.
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She shuddered, swallowing down what felt like a baseball-sized lump that had risen in her throat like a barometer for her terror. His words were stern and cautionary, their very tone imparting dire importance. "Stay very still." he growled at her, half warning, half demanding. The shockingly cold touch of metal against her neck made the importance of those words sink into her stomach like a stone, the weight pulling all of her insides down to her toes. She could barely breathe, afraid to at this point as she felt her pulse hammering against the edge of a razor sharp death. Goosebumps raced up her body as the flat side of a very long bowie knife was pressed into her delicate neck. As the flat of the blade slid smoothly across her skin, the threat to her safety that frightened her so badly was electrifying her at the same time. She had placed every last bit of her trust into this man, this stranger…effectively handing over her life for with a quick slash it was his to take. Slowly the smooth steel made its way down to her collarbone, the deadly edge of the blade dragging harmlessly along. Suddenly the blade began to lift away from her flesh, moving until only the very scorpion-like tip of the knife touched her. Slowly that focused point started to drag across her skin, a single cats claw that left a thin burning trail in its wake. She could feel the sharp stinging line being drawn into her skin, tracing down the edge of her v-necked blouse headed directly towards the sensitive mounds of flesh below. Eventually the knife came to a rest within the luscious valley between her breasts, stopped by the first button of her blouse and pointed right over her hammering heart. Below lay a white wall of silken fabric that would seemingly thwart the hungry blade’s quest for flesh.
She figured that was that, but was she ever wrong. She felt her blouse being pulled downwards for a moment before it sprang back to the sound of fabric being cut in two. With a nearly unnaturally loud tearing sound the knife sliced through her silk blouse, peeling her out of her clothing like someone would peel an apple. She could feel the knife’s progress as it slid downwards, buttons falling from her ruined shirt like little plastic raindrops. With a huge gash rent into her blouse the man let go of her hair and grasped at either side of the cut he made, sharply pulling it apart. With a wrenching yank her blouse was torn from her, the violence of the act nearly throwing her to the ground, tossing her back and forth like a toy boat in a storm. If she was scared before, now she was absolutely terrified, being shaken back and forth as if a wolf had grasped hold of her for the kill. She bleated like a wounded animal before the tight grasp of a strong hand wrapped around her throat, killing the very noise in her mouth. Nothing was said, nothing needed to be, being choked like that said everything that could possibly be uttered. The pounding of her pulse was like a bomb going off in her brain over and over. He let go of her just before the room began to spin, his voice rumbling, “be quiet,” as if the point hadn’t already been made by his wickedly decisive actions.
Quiet she was, but just barely because the feel of the cold air on her bare chest was assaulting her like a swarm of icy butterflies. Her nipples grew taut, stiffly pointing outwards as if pleading for even the smallest bit of attention. It was then, at this most vulnerable moment when she felt the tip of the knife once again, the needle like point pushing right into the tip of her breast, denting her nipple as if it was the bulls-eye of a target. She wanted to squeal at the sudden pain, but she bit down, her teeth sinking into the sound that wanted to leap past her lips. She could swear she was bleeding, but the stinging sensation that consumed her whole breast kept her from being certain. Slowly the pointed pressure eased but only enough for the tip of the knife to drag away from her nipple without cutting it in two. From that bulls-eye he struck, he began to move the knife outwards in a spiral, lightly clawing a line into her flesh just as he had done before.
He had not drawn blood where he had poked her, nor was he doing any real damage to her, but to her it felt like a monster straight out of a horror movie was dissecting her. The creamy white flesh across her chest was a pristine canvas upon which he painted with the sharpest of brushes. Around one breast and then the other he drew arcane patterns, ritualistically marking her as if she was to be the sacrifice for a lustful demon. Then, as if attracted by the burning fire that raged between her legs the blade streaked down over her belly, jumping over the waistband of her skirt. She shuddered out a breath as the knife passed right over her most intimate area, the sharp tip barely muted by the extra layer of fabric. Right below the sensitive triangle of her sex, the knife sank into her skirt, rending the cotton fabric apart with a scratchy howl as he pulled downwards. With a single pull from his hands her skirt fell to the ground in pieces, leaving her naked save the blindfold across her eyes.
That same cool air that had teased her before came back with a vengeance, slithering up her legs and swirling over the damp puddle of honey that covered her nether lips. She mewled like a baby kitten, blushing fiercely as she was assaulted by the humiliation of being so horridly wet. She could swear her honey was rolling down the insides of her legs, like a bitch in heat. It was madness that she would be so aroused by the treatment she was being subjected to. Even worse was that being like this dredged up the most unspeakable of desires, as if what was happening wasn’t enough, a part of her deep down inside craved more. At that very moment she wanted nothing more than to lose every remaining bit of her modesty and spread her legs open, begging him to finger her like he had moments ago. As if he was reading her mind, he growled, “Spread your legs.” This time there was no hesitation as her wet thighs parted open, ready to accept whatever touches he chose to give.
The point of the knife touching her outer labia nearly sent her through the ceiling, causing her to gasp as she lifted up onto her tiptoes to try and escape the bite of that metal fang. “Stay still,” he demanded, lightly passing the tip of the knife upwards along her freshly shaven mons, the little scratch left behind making her want to scream bloody murder. However, despite everything that was happening, she stood still and was quiet, praying that the softness of a finger would replace the harshness of the blade if she pleased him by doing what he bid.
After a torturous couple of minutes at the mercy of that sharp blade her prayers were answered with the feathered touch of three fingertips across her lathered lips. Back and forth he stroked her, his fingers glistening with her juices like he had burst an overripe fruit in his hand. Her hips danced as she rolled over each increasing wave of pleasure, getting closer and closer to the bliss she desired so single-mindedly. She could hear him chuckle with that same amusement as before as she began to moan, coaxing the sounds from her as he parted her enflamed lips open between two fingers. Being touched like this made her feel even more exposed if such a thing were possible, the tiny little pearl that was hidden behind her velvety curtain now exposed, vulnerable and throbbing. The instant his finger touched her there, her pleasure skyrocketed right up to the edge, a kettle about to boil over. “I have plans for this,” his voice rumbled as he circled around the little nub of flesh teasingly, keeping her perched there on the edge. The sound of her whimpering was the sweetest of music to the man’s ears, her angelic voice so sweetly pleading to him. However, the sound that she made when he left her to hang on the edge of orgasm was truly something to be cherished. She wanted to start crying with how he left her with her insides twisted up in need. He had robbed her of her release, her breath coming out in staggered moans of frustration. “Oh no…” he growled, the grin across his lips so wicked that she could see hear it in every word he said, “You have to earn that.” With a low chuckle that could only be borne from the darkest humor he added, “But don’t worry, I’ll be giving you a chance rather shortly.”
I hope you enjoyed the first half of the story. I’ll be giving you the next part once it’s done. Take care.
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As she read the last words of the e-mail, Betty sat there feeling exactly like the woman she read about in the story, denied of the verbal climax that the story was building towards. She slumped in her office chair, frowning because she dearly wanted to know how the story ended, but since this e-mail was obviously not meant for her she wouldn’t be reading the next part. It was the ultimate tease, showing a glimpse of a sinful world and then leaving her to hang right as she was hooked.
Standing up from her desk to stretch her legs, Betty’s eyes grew wide all of a sudden. She hadn’t realized it while she was sitting down, but when she stood up she felt all the wetness that had soaked her panties right through. The sudden realization that she was aroused made her cheeks blush a soft pink. A thought mortified her and she spun around to look at her chair. She had to giggle at herself after she checked the fabric of her chair in case ‘she had stained the chair right through her dress’.
The end of the day came quickly, her thoughts floating around in the fantasy world that the story had shown to her. Part of what fascinated her so was the fact that she reacted the way she did, becoming so aroused by a scenario that seemed so sinister. The darkly erotic imagery had hinted at a part of herself that she had never really explored.
The night came and the morning followed quickly on its heels. A new day of work was in front of Betty and so the drudgery began once anew. The dull roar of a busy office thrummed around her as she started to go through her day. As busy as she was, she just had to read the story again, thinking about all kinds of new details the second time around. She wondered what the stern man looked like, wondered how his voice sounded. She wondered what it felt like to feel the tip of a knife scratching over her skin so dangerously. When she reached the end of the story the second time, it was every bit as frustrating as the first, like watching the rerun of a TV cliffhanger that left you hanging until the next season aired. The day dragged as she plodded away at one report after another, going to meetings and going through the motions. The meetings she attended were about as interesting as watching glue dry, nothing but hour long ego trips for those who enjoyed hearing the sound of their own voice. Coming back from one of those lovely focus meetings she noticed she had gotten two new e-mails on her computer. Mumbling to herself about how they couldn’t even wait for her to get back to her desk she opened her mail program up to read what was sent. Looking at the subjects of the two mails the first read ‘Important Message – We need your feedback Betty’. She would have been annoyed about what the mail had to say, but she never opened it. The second e-mail didn’t have a subject…and she recognized the e-mail address. It was the same address that the first part of the story came from.
End of chapter two
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Story - Sonata (chapter 2) - 
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