Razorwire Roses Pt. 02

PAUL LED FAITH through the store to get the next items on her list while Faith chatted amiably and Paul's mind reeled, attempting to make sense of what he read on the list; duct-tape, mousetraps, alligator clips.

"Mousetraps?" He asked, interrupting her. "What are mousetraps for?"

Faith stepped in front of and turned to face him before she replied.

"Here," she said, looking to see that they were alone in the aisle, then putting a fingertip on each of her nipples. "They'll go right here."

Paul's face paled as he formed a mental picture of her nipples pinched between the hard wire bails and coarse wooden bases of the rodent traps. In his mind he conjured up the setting for Faith's photo session.

A ramshackle steel bedstead with a tattered, stained mattress stood in an otherwise empty room. Large lights, some with oversized reflectors, some with diffuser panels, painted a circle of bright light in the otherwise dark room. A disorderly pile of items were jumbled on the mattress; ropes, rolls of tape, an assortment of wood and metal clamps, bars and chains, along with several menacing hand tools.

Faith sat upright on the bed, her back against the hard metal bedstead. Her arms were spread wide, and her wrists were bound to the metalwork by short lengths of the red braided rope they had selected. Her eyes were covered by a blindfold of crimson fabric and streaks of mascara ran from under the blindfold and down her cheeks. Her beautiful lips were parted wide, prised apart by a ring gag, with its leather thong tugging at the corners of her mouth as it stretched behind her head.

She sat there on the filthy mattress, exposed and immobilized by her bonds. Small, quiet sobs trembled through her slim young body.

She wore an emerald colored lace brasserie, which had been pulled down to expose her round white breasts. Her nipples, each one cruelly caught up in rodent traps, were an angry red color. Each of her pitiable sobs caused the mousetraps to swing back and forth from her abused nipples, adding to her distress.

Her panties had been removed and her legs spread wide, held by more of the braided red rope looped around her ankles and tied to the bed frame.

Her legs were long, white and shapely, and Paul's eyes followed their length from her rope-wrapped ankles to the place where the sensuous curves of her thighs met.

The red rope ran through the thatch of curling ginger-hued pubic hair that framed the entrance to her womanhood, pulled taut between the tender lips of her sex. One end

was cinched tightly around her waist, the other was pulled between her buttocks, under the cinch at her waist, then looped and tied around her long, regal neck.

He watched, transfixed, as the tremors that ran through her delicate figure caused the cruel clamps dangling from her nipples to shake more and more. He was startled by a touch to his arm, and by a voice that seemed to come from far away.

"Earth to Hardware Man! Earth to Hardware Man!" Faith taunted. She held his forearm as she continued. "Are you OK? You drifted off somewhere." She was holding a pair of mousetraps by their tags, shaking them in front of his face. "I've been trying to get your attention. Are these what we're supposed to get?"

"Yes," Paul replied, running his hand across his face in an attempt to clear away the vivid picture he had formed in his mind. "That's everything on the list. Let's get you checked out now."

She was looking intently at his face and recognized the look that flickered behind his eyes. She knew that he was imagining what she would look like naked and bound with the rope she now carried loosely over her arm. She could sense his arousal, but she sensed something else, as well. He seemed confused perhaps, or unsure, as if he had ventured into uncharted territory.

She continued to observe him as they made their way through the store toward the cash register. She watched his demeanor change, and she knew that he had come to terms with whatever it was that he had discovered about himself.

She paid for her items and as the cashier bagged them she turned to speak again with Paul, but he was nowhere in sight.

"Probably off helping someone else," she thought. She looked around for him as she headed out the door and wondered if they would meet again.