Page 12 of Bloody Savage God
“You look like you have more in store than a bit of whipping. Perhaps that switchblade you’ve got strapped to your upper thigh might come in handy if you gift me some of your time.”
Damn. He certainly paid attention.
Heat is crawling up my thighs from where the metal of my blade is nestled into a small holster. I don’t go anywhere without one, and right now, the sharp blade seems to be sending electric currents to my core.
“You’re into blood play, are you?” I ask, taking my time, as if his offer isn’t making me want to drag him to one of the back rooms right now.
“I can be into whatever pleases you, Mistress.” He offers, and with this guy, I’m thinking he might actually mean it, despite the utter lack of subservience in his stance or manner.
Raising my chin, I give him another slow perusal. “Fine, but you better prove true to your word, otherwise you might find my knife will slip and cut off something you still need in the future.”
The blaze that lights his eyes is confirmation enough that he is as turned on by the whole conversation as I am.
Without looking back to make sure he is following me, I head past the bar and through a short hallway to the two private rooms on this level. One door has an in use sign, so I choose the other one, stepping into a bedroom-style playroom that will do just fine for our purposes.
“Take off your pants and lie down on the floor.”
Something urges me to see him on the ground, where he’ll be forced to look up at me. I almost expect him to make some snarky comment, but I hear him pull down his shorts and go down on the ground right away. When I turn to look at him, I know exactly why. He’s looking at me with total confidence, even though he’s now sprawled out, his cock jutting out impressively.
Well, I guess he does have big balls. I’ll give him that.
And I’ve played right into his hand, because he wants my hands on him.
Holding eye contact, I close the distance, pushing his legs apart with my heels so I can walk between them until I’m standing right between his upper thighs. That need for violence I always feel is humming through me with renewed excitement, and the anticipation of seeing if this guy can truly keep up with me is thrilling.
The Ronaldo kid was a weakling. But this guy? He just might be a challenge.
I lift my right foot and press it down on his large cock, forcing it against his rock hard abs. It really is a nice body to play with.
“What’s your name?” I ask, fairly certain he’s going to give me some pseudonym.
“You can call me Mike.” He quibs, undisturbed by my foot on his hard length.
As I thought. Not his real name.
“Well,Mike, let’s see how you hold up.”
I can’t be sure, but I suspect he’s grinning under that mask, which only makes me more determined to give him the pain that’ll teach him not to challenge me.
Except, a bit of a challenge is nice. Unlike Benny, who went down oh so easily.
I lift my foot off his cock, only to kick him in the balls.
Some air escapes his mouth, but he doesn’t groan or whine. It makes me want to see if he can take another.
I pull back and kick my heel into his scrotum again.
Turns out, he can take another, and his determined stare means he just signed up for a very fun evening indeed.
Chapter Five
Gianna
Thebedintheplayroom has quite a number of restraint points, including a couple at the bottom of the legs. Perfect for my purposes.
Having recovered rather quickly from my kicks, Mike is leaning up on his elbows, his eyes sparkling with humor as he watches me. As if the pain has only fuelled his enthusiasm for being here.
A real masochist for once. Not one of the male subs who like to think they have a high pain tolerance.
