Dangerous Game: Simple Surgery

"Fuck me," Asa swore beneath her breath, slouched slightly in her chair as she thrust her leg up and into the air, extending it as far as it would reach. "I feel so fucking tight tonight," she complained.

Laughing as he passed her by, Monroe was slow to shake his head as he stopped to check his appearance in the dressing room's mirror, hovering over the anxious young beauties shoulder. "How many times had I asked you to limber up with me?" he started in on her, a beautiful bit of a smirk curling up the corner of his darkly painted lips. "You knew this was coming up, they gave us plenty of time--,"

"I know I know..." she said, lowering her leg to fold comfortably in the chair. "There was just this party and this guy..."

"There will always be some party and some guy," commented Cidy as she eased her way between the two, lifting up a lace gloved hand to give a gentle squeeze to Monroe's shoulder. "And shouldn't you be meditating?" she asked, a light brow curiously arched as her brilliant sea-green hues met and reflected against Monroe's mirrored lenses. "You need to make sure your heart rate is steady and calm before going in and going under," she insist, lifting her fingers to caress his cheek. "We worry about you, ya know?" she said with a bit of a forced laugh. "You're the most delicate of us all."

Returning the heart-felt gesture, Monroe leaned in to the lovely pixie of a girl that still stood between himself and Asa, his dark lips brushing her cheek, just scarcely missing her lips and leaving only the most faint of a kisses mark in their wake. "Of course," he said simply, lifting a hand to push back what strands of black and red that had fallen into his sights and over his shoulder. "But then, I'm always the most calm of us all, am I not?"

Asa smiled as she lift her eyes to watch his reflection in the mirror, catching him as he winked at her before turning from them both.

Crossing the way of the small floor and pushing back the make-shift curtain of costumes and other assorted accessories as he ducked beneath the bar to make his way into the small room that lay beyond. No more than five by five in width and length, a second closet turned space for meditation and reflection, a good many candles already alight as Monroe took to lighting a few more as well as a stick of incense or two. Lowering himself down towards the floor, he folded his legs beneath him as he smoothed the fine, mesh fabric that he wore with the palm of his hand, minding not to mess its purity with whatever dirt that lay about the floor of the space. It was crucial, after all, that he remain clean, sanitary even, before he would go on. It was a critical part in the role that he was to play. Taking a deep breath, he allowed the tips of his fingers to trail up the length of his covered thighs and up and over the ivory colored leather and brass buckles that made up the bodice that just lightly hugged his petite middle. Hardly a restriction to his person, though it wouldn't be there for long.

Suddenly his heart skipped a beat, and he cursed himself for allowing it. So casually the both of them had spoke of it, referring to the act as nothing more than mere 'practice' between the two, even though they knew--they could feel--that it was so much more than that.

Breathing in through his nose, Monroe was slow to close his eyes as he allowed the scent of the melting wax and the incense to overpower him, intoxicating him, mind and body. His slight physique shivered beneath the cloth of what it was that he wore, his pale skin goose-pimpling at the base of his neck and about his breast as he could feel his heart rate increase by leaps and bounds. He was loosing all empowerment, bearing no sense of control. And though aware that it was something that he could not risk, not so close to show time, even still, he couldn't seem to help himself as he could feel himself growing erect beneath the corseted gown.

How shameful this was as he began to pant and swoon, his head dizzy with the very thought of all that Asa was going to do; over him, on him, to him. It was a glorious thought to say the very least, that nimble nymphet with the cold and callus eyes. Seated in gentle sway, he wondered what it was that she was feeling as she primed and puckered before the mirror, only a matter of steps or strides from where he now was knelt. Did she feel as he felt now? Was she just as excited as he? "What?" he managed to breath, his crimson colored nails gently clawing at his chest, his body set to shaking at the feel of his fingers and the fabric as it rubbing against his eager flesh. More than anything he wanted to know.

"What, what?"

Startled, Monroe gasped as his eyes were quick to open, his mind suddenly cleared in a burst of light. It was like an explosion in his head, the way her voice had shattered through his subconscious, breaking the lovesick trace he'd set upon himself and jerking him back into reality. However, sweet as his thoughts might have been, sweeter still was the feel of her gentle arms around him as she pressed her chest to his back, the soft palate of her cheek pressed lightly against his own as her long and fluttering lashes tickled the flesh of his temple. "Tell me," she whispered sweet into his ear, her full lips curled into a mischievous grin.

His body betrayed him then, just as it already had been, his voice speaking out of turn as it stammered his bodies want of her, his heart pounding so loudly beneath his chest that he was sure that she could hear it as what remained of him trembled against her as if he'd been tossed into a tub of ice. Again and again he confessed it, "I want you," he whispered. "I want you."

Softly she laughed in his ear, even nibbling at his lobe. "And you will have me," she said as she'd dropped an arm from about his wait, gentle fingertips, tender in the way that they brushed over his throbbing length through the thin cloth that covered. "You'll have me, just as I'll have you," she went on and kissed his cheek. "I'll take you and make you my own, and you'll not protest with words or movement. I won't allow it." Keeping her lips to his cheek she whispered finally, "But I will have you. I will, quite literally, hold your heart in my hand."

Cidy looked out with amusement at the great gathering of bodies bearing spectating eyes that had come for their grand event. It was a special night tonight; the first show of a grander scale for Monroe since his joining the CD sector.

Every color and creed of the different sectors and houses were about the audience, she could spot them from the littlest things of things that they wore about their persons, and the way in which each of their "toi's" -- if brought -- was dressed. So was the way of the Nation, the organization that housed so many different sectors of assorted pleasures and the tasty treats that were their living toi's. Each sector was unique, and she had come to learn them all; many from hearsay or word of mouth, though there was also a great much she'd learned simply from personal experience.

As for herself and those like her, they hailed from the sector known as Sector CD, or, Cool Devices; a sector that was so greatly renowned for the way in which they catered to the dark desire of incorporating medical instrument and practice with a surgical precision, with erotic torture to heighten the sense of ecstasy to the point of the tortured leaving with an experience that was nothing short of--euphoric. The perfect antidote for only the most strong of sadist or masochist as the dosage was always plenty high; even for the most simple of play. Under the strict care of their mistress, the lady Taylor, Cool Devices had thrived from a dark and shame-riddled taboo into a grand spectacle to be witnessed by any and all. It served a great many purposes, Sector CD, as many of the other sectors would watch the acts that they would perform upon one another such spectacles of unspeakable horror, and would then turn to threaten their fellow sectors most disobedient of servants with the nightmare of their being cast to the whims of the "forbidden sector" if they would continue to refuse to do as they were told.

And so they'd become the greatest of showmen, those of the "forbidden sector," their mistress receiving offers from all other sectors of the Nation that bid herself and those kept under her wing to perform and to dazzle and to instill into the newly acquired the fear of a very wrathful Nation.

This made Cidy smile all the more, to know that it was her sector that everyone had come to see; not a one of them late to their seats, not wanting to miss a minute of what all this special sector had in store. It made her proud to be such a familiar icon about the Nation, to know that her face was so easily recognized on the streets, her reputation forever preceding her, as well as any others from her sector. It was this outstanding reputation that allowed them to RSVP to gatherings of every sort. They were scarcely a sector to be trifled with--though there had been an unfortunate few who had, in fact, tried...however, there wasn't a one of them who had gone on to tell their tale, in some fashion or another...

From the door in which she stood, Cidy cast her sea colored sights to the far upper left of the arena's audience as she struggled to look deep into the ominous dark that masked the bodies and the faces of those who were known to hold rank over the Nation and all its sectors. It was the bodies who filled that box whose word was law, and not a being, living or dead, could contest it. They were that which made the Nation; its laws, its ways, and who held it all together and would surely tear it asunder, if they saw it fit. It was peculiar to Cidy how everyone knew of this--hierarchy that ruled, though there wasn't a one who knew any of their faces, not even the slaves that served them. Be they the most beautiful of creatures upon the earths face, or the most hideous of beings known to man, no one knew for sure. All that was known throughout the branches of the Nations was that their power was the only power, and at the mere rise and fall of a fingertip, a life could vanish from existence without as much as a second thought.

"We're ready," Cidy whispered as she ducked back and out of the doorway, clearing the way for her mistress.

In slow and steady strides, Taylor made her way down the length of the short and darkened hallway, never minding what few lamps were flickered or had already burned out. Not a one of them mattered as she paused just before the door, pressing the tips of her fingers to its cold, flat surface in preparation to push it open. Her other hand she lift to her face, running her index across her lip as she tipped her nose into the crook of her index and her thumb, inhaling deep and quick, sniffling slightly afterwards as she dropped her hand to the side again and took a moment to clear her throat before she moved to stand up straight, a twinkle in her cold, gray eyes and a smile upon frost painted lips. "Show time."

Cidy giggled as her mistress winked at her and pushed the door open wide to make her grand entrance. From the doorway is where she watched as the lady Taylor walked to stand 'center-stage' within the room that was allotted in the sizely, circular observatory, dropping low and bending at the waist as well as the knee to make a large and sweeping bow to the audience that stood and applauded from all around her. Though, the courtesy was more for 'royals' of the Nation, adoring as her public might have been. turning only a quarter of a step at the time, she would give another bow t the crowd, though only at the waist, making her rounds of the audience, now, in its entirety, thanking them for their having come. At this, Cidy slowly withdrew her own hands from the soundproof door, allowing it to close and to separate her from the crowd and her beloved mistress, turning on her heels then as she went to cue the two who were to perform.

Waiting for her mistress to finish with her introduction, Asa stood in the ill-lit hallway for her cue, her half-gloved fingers tugging at the lace of her short, little skirt as she bit at her bottom lip and fidgeted with her nurse's hat trimmed in lace. Her boot-clad foot tapping timidly at the floor at a last ditch effort to cure herself of any anxiety that she had left as she quietly hummed random bits of any number of songs that she could think of.

With his shoulder blades pressed to the wall, Monroe kept his sights cast away from the beauty that nervously tapped her foot, only half listening to the melodies--if that was what they could be called--that she hummed to clear and concentrate her mind on the matter at hand. She had a great deal more to concern over than he, when all that there was for him was to relax, to stay calm, and to experience the inevitable. "Asa," he whispered finally, his ear perking at the sound of her sudden cease in all her fidgeting and other random movements.

"Huh?" she asked, turning hr head to look at him, though still he looked away.

"Trust." he said it simply, and in an instant he could feel the sense of relief that radiated from her form. It was all that she'd been in need of to be reassured. It was, after all, the least that he could have done for the service she'd done for him.

"You ready?" she asked, stepping a little ways away from the wall as she half turned to better look at him, keeping the sight of her approaching mistress in her peripheral.

Pushing away from the wall, Monroe gave only a curt nod as he dropped his head into a bow, his meditations well underway as he heard the heavy door swing open, pulled open by the hand of their mistress as she announced them to the crowd.

With a sultry sway to her hips and only the most light of bounces to her step, Asa made her way with ease into the spotlight first, as if there wasn't a care in her world. Her eyes were alight, like flames as she paused just a few feet in and turned to give a beckoning couple of curls to her finger, calling for her patient to follow.

Though he'd risen his head upright, still his eyes remained downcast, fixed upon the shortened skirt that rode low about her hips and high about her thighs, scarcely covering a thing as she walked only a pace or two before him, carrying herself backwards in her steps as he followed her still crooked finger. All throughout his head music rang, bit and segments of songs, all of those that she'd been humming to keep her own composure; they were the tunes that filled his head now, keeping him calm as he focused on finding the words that went along, filling his head and making him dizzy...

(...You can't reject the whole world... you can't escape, you won't escape, you can't escape, you don't want to escape...)

From the cold or from the atmosphere of the observatory, Monroe wasn't exactly sure which it was that suddenly made him shiver so. All that there was, all that there could be was Asa; who he would follow to the ends of the world if he could, though, this was damn near enough. He followed her bouncing steps to the length of a gurney, of which she smoothed over its surface with her hands, gesturing for him to lay. Turning his back on the bed of metal, Monroe was slow to lift himself up, not wanting to quicken the rate of his heart so close now to the deed that would be done. In the distance he heard the door as it swung open again, their mistress now gone as it was Cidy who emerged from the dark, carrying upon her hand a small tray of assorted wants and needs for Asa.

Approaching him from the left, Cidy watched as Monroe took to lowering himself to lay upon the flat, metal surface, closing his mirror-lensed eyes to the bright light that shown from on high over them all. With ease, she rounded him about his head, reaching out with her free hand for her gloved fingers to caress against his cheek, reassuring him of her being there, and the audience of the 'patients' being genuine as his lips curled upwards in their corner to form a smile. For Asa she set down the tray, and helped to clean and glove Asa's hands. Silent as the grave is how the three remained as they went about each of their allotted tasks, Asa's eyes gleaming with an almost childlike excitement as she pondered over the instruments upon the tray, deciding which of them she should use first. Casting her sights from the other girl now, Cidy stepped away from the two and where they were as she fumbled with the small stand of equipment that stood seemingly on its own, taking into hand the small plastic mask with lines that ran back to both a monitor and a sizely, silver tank. Turning slowly on her heel, Cidy made her way back to the relaxed Monroe as she lowered and placed the mask over his face, speaking to him softly so that only he could hear. She was like the sweetest angel of death as she hovered over him, with dirty blonde ringlets framing the profile of her face, eyes of bright sea green shining as perfect pink lips smiled, lowering with a graceful precision to place one last kiss of well-wishes. As she lift her lips from his, she replaced her sweetened kiss with that of the mask, covering over his nose and his mouth, silently instructing him to breathe deep.

Turning from the table, Asa easily palmed her blade of choice. With only the slightest touch of her fingers tip, she tested one of the points of the blades serrated edge, puckering her lips in a wince to emphasize its quality to the crowd. Turning, she stood over Monroe, palming in her free hand one of the straps of the ivory leather bodice that he wore, taking the serrated edge beneath the strap just shy of the buckle as she pulled it taunt across the blade, breaking it with an easy snap. She did this, too, for the other four straps that remained until there wasn't a strap or a buckle to keep the bodice taunt about his form. However, unlike the callus nature that she had used to cut the straps, Asa took her time with the small clasps that lay beneath, taking the blade between her teeth as her hands worked to undo each of them separately by hand until the leather fell away from his form, leaving nothing more than the mesh cloth that was lay sheer against his skin.

Her right hand plucked the scalpel with the serrated edges from between her teeth, and gently set it aside, replacing it upon the small tray exchanging it for another. A blade with a more fine and traditional edge. Meanwhile, her left hand reached for the slightly plunging V neck of Monroe's attire, and she began her cut from the point of the V, going down the length of his torso, minding not to cut or mar his skin. Just about his pelvis she stopped in her downwards cut and went to either side of his hips, utilizing a reverse Y incision about the cloth to keep the cloth from folding in on her as she worked. With a careless air about her, Asa tossed away that scalpel, its sound a deafening clatter against the hard stone floor in contrast to the hush that had long since befallen their audience. Hearing a couple of scattered gasps from a sorted few, Asa dared to give an arrogant smile as she took up the scalpel that would be her third and final that she would use to work with. At long last, the fun and games were over, and now had come the time for what all the surrounding spectators had come to see. Lifting her eyes to Cidy, she gestured with only her chocolate colored hues to where next she wished Cidy to go. Moving with a single side-step, Asa took a step further up along the torso length of Monroe, smiling into his half glazed eyes as she took the scalpels point to his sternum, watching his eyes enlarge at the sudden, piercing pressure of the blade as it pierced his skin. Her ears were all in turned to the gasps and whispers of the crowd, a few mummers beginning amongst them.

And so it had begun.

Her fingertips were smooth across his skin, trailing from his cheek and down the length of his neck, to his shoulder and down his arm, stopping at his hand as she intertwined her fingers with his own. Her left hand reaching up to caress across his thigh. She could hear him take a breath, the sound of the monitor raising just slightly in its tempo in alert to the rate of his heart. Slowly up his thigh and to where his phallus lay, already thick in wanting. It was through the cloth that she caressed him slowly, pressing gently in all the right place to reveal to on looking eyes what it was that she felt.