Taboo Unchained(16)

I spin the blade around in my fingers, drawing my silicone cock up to my mouth. I don't make a habit of sucking on dick, but sometimes it's necessary. I run my tongue along the toy, letting my blood and saliva coat the surface until it gleams. Not that Lauren really needs it. Her pussy is soaking wet, the juices still glistening bright on my stiff cock. I touch my fingers loosely to my shaft, sliding the tips along my rigid flesh. A shudder passes through me an instant before I shove the toy into Lauren's eager cunt, slamming it right down to the base and the faux balls.

“You always did like it hard, didn't you, bitch?” I whisper, running my fingers up her perfect ass and giving it a sharp slap. Lauren groans and arches her back, body twisting and thrashing in pleasure. I leave the cock where it is and move up to Mrs. Houssard's face, cupping her jaw in falsely gentle fingers. Her brown eyes search mine with an eager desperation and a flash of darkness that chills my soul to the core.

“Do horrible things to me,” she whispers. “Before I do them to everyone else. Please. Please, Lucas.” I smile softly and bend down, teasing her mouth with mine. But I don't offer my lips. I'm not opposed to kissing my clients; I simply don't enjoy it. I stand up straight, spinning the blade around where she can see it.

“I'm going to cut you, Lauren. Bleed you all over this floor. And then I'm going to let you go, and you're going to clean it up on your hands and knees.” I grab her hair and squeeze until she screams and the silicone cock falls to the floor, pushed from the tight walls of her pussy with the tensing of muscles. “With your tongue,” I whisper and release her, taking the blade in my shaking fingers and slicing a neat three inches down Lauren's upper arm. It's one of the four places she's designated for me to cut. Her work attire covers her skin in that particular spot, and her worthless, limp dick husband never bothers to remove his wife's blouse when he's fucking her. Mr. Houssard is a selfish lover, the kind of man I love to hate. I've always been under the assumption that I'm straight simply because I prefer a woman's body, but there's a sneaking suspicion in my mind that I just hate men for being men. A self-hating man. It would not be my worst offense.

Lauren's deliciously delectable flesh splits, giving me what I so desperately need: the hot rush of red down her arm, the cry of pain from her lips, the clenching of her muscles as they rally, trying to get Lauren to defend herself. But she doesn't want to. Oh, no. Dr. Houssard is a very willing participant in this duet.

I step back and enjoy the trickle of blood down her arm, admiring the way it falls. There's just something about blood. So perfect. So artistic. This, this is my medium.

“What a work of art you make, Mrs. Houssard,” I say, emphasizing her least favorite word in the English language. Poor Lauren. She fell for the age old trap of marriage. People like her, like me, we don't do well in that sort of situation. It simply doesn't behoove us to join a partnership, particularly not one where the partner doesn't share our same affliction.

My mind flickers briefly back to my wife. To Mrs. Carter. Who was only such for a single day. Oh, Isadora, you stupid fool. How could you not have seen this demon inside of me? Didn't you once say that the eyes were the window to the soul? How did you miss the darkness staring back out at you?

I sigh and flip the knife again. My second slice is much slower than my first, a shimmer of blade dragged across Lauren's flesh as she screams, partly in pleasure and partly in pain. I take her shoulder from unblemished perfection to a blight of red agony. My breath hisses out between my teeth. My shaking hands get the better of me, and my third cut is a slash, drawn messily through Lauren's skin with splatter of red across my face. Two marks on her shoulder now, like an X, etched in her flesh.

I drop the blade before things go too far and move around to her spread eagled legs and the notch in the cement between them. Just enough room to step up to her cunt and insert the toy back into Lauren's heaving flesh.

I'm sliding the condom onto my dick, getting ready to fill her ass with my nearly painful erection when I hear the creak of stairs behind me. Lauren doesn't hear it, but I do. An instant later, my cock is back inside my pants and I'm tearing up the stairs behind a second set of footsteps. My first thought is that it's Mr. Houssard come home early, but that doesn't make sense. That fool would run at me, not away.

The front door cracks against the wall, and I catch a hint of pale flesh and black flats on perfect feet. I swing around the doorjamb, my fingers catching on the white trim as my eyes take in the massive driveway and the orange Mini Cooper roaring to life on it.

Audra Holiday's red hair shines brightly, catching the sun as she peels away, tires spinning on the pebbles beneath her car. I'm breathing so heavily, I hardly process the screeching from the basement. My hands curl tightly around the door frame, my tongue struggling to wet my lips as I glance down and catch some bloody smears on the floor. My eyes flick up one last time, watching as Audra disappears down the driveway and out the open gate at the end of it.