Chapter One: Stevie
She gazed down on the struggling young man as she straddled his hips with her spread naked thighs. Her eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the gleaming blade's tip embedded in the man's upper torso. Spread-eagled across a blood soaked dingy bed, nylon cords secured the local college jock's wrists and ankles.
"That asshole, that mother fucking, two-timing son of a bitch, bastard of a husband!" she hissed, her words dripping venom. "I can't believe he is cheating on me!"
The young man's eyes were wide with terror and pain as she drew the blade slowly downward slicing a six inch crimson line on his left breast. Muffled screams attempted to sound their anguish through the thick cotton sock jammed in his mouth, the sock swollen from his saliva. The angry woman lifted the knife up from the fresh wound, a scarlet river streaming from the scored flesh, a small liquid ruby hanging precariously from the blade's razor tip.
"Just wait until I get home, Lawrence... just... you... wait!" she screeched as she jammed the cold steel into the soft flesh of her captive's right inner thigh. A high pitched wail struggled to force its frenzied voice through the sodden cloth while she quickly removed the knife creating a wet grisly sound as the blade slid from the deep wound.
A loose strand of hair, the color of dark strawberries, hung across her damp forehead over her right eye. Still holding the dripping knife, she slid the back of her left hand across her brow removing the offending lock from her sight. A single drop of her victim's blood fell from the blade onto her right breast, above her engorged nipple.
"Roy, I'm so sorry but...we're almost of time. I don't think we can continue with this intimate part of our date...do you?" She looked into two impossibly wide blue eyes their pupils contracted to the size of a needle. "What do you say?" she asked as she caressed his forehead and ran her fingers through his matted blond hair now stained a dark crimson.
The young man's muted words were beyond comprehension, not from the gag but from hysteria. His head shook back and forth as his twenty-three year old body trembled over the drenched sheets, a wet sucking emanating from the agitated movements.
She knew he was beyond understanding; his awareness vanished into the quagmire of his mind. His body was merely reacting to the agony of millions of nerve endings crying for an end to the torture.