Erotic Story: Cold Steel


Cold Steel

Author's note: Usual disclaimers apply, but a little looking online will prove that the bladeplay pics mentioned here do exist. The camera's operator is largely a creature of my imagination, even if there is something of an old acquaintance in her.

*

"Oh, you like having hard things in your mouth, you fucking slut?"

Lindsay Lohan grinned for the camera, shyly looking away as she bit down on a twelve-inch stainless steel carving knife. Her friend, ex-MTV veejay Vanessa Minnillo pulled down the left side of her black tank top and dragged a razor-sharp chef's knife back from the upper curve of her breast toward her shoulder. Lindsay shivered at its touch, her pussy dampening. Of all the little games they'd indulged in lately, bladeplay definitely was a huge-turn on for her. She'd "forgotten" to wear panties tonight at the direction of the camerawoman. Pretty soon her upper thighs would be soaked, and if she was lucky Vanessa would bury her head between her thighs and lick up the mess. She playfully giggled and nodded. Playing hard to get would be a dangerous game tonight, but she loved dangerous pleasures. But first they had to please the camerawoman enough to earn their rewards, and she could be a real bitch.

"Look at me, Lindsay, smile pretty for the camera." The camera clicked again. "Hold your knife to Van's throat, and look sexy. Give me a good pout. No, not the cutting edge, you fucking coke whore, the back side. You're liable to get the shakes and kill her by accident." The camera clicked again. "Now lean in, and pucker up. You know you want to kiss your little friend...." Another click. "Don't kiss her yet, wait for it, now you may." The two starlets kissed long and hard, their tongues sliding into each others' mouths like old friends. It was almost enough to make them forget about their current situation.

The snap of a riding crop across Vanessa's tightly packed jean shorts was enough to break the moment as their hostess snarled her displeasure. "That's enough. Now get in the back and get dressed properly. This isn't Casual Friday, you lazy bitches. You're lucky I don't whip you both bloody right now, and leave the whip marks where the paparazzi can't miss them."

Kristi Annison was one of Hollywood's beautiful also-rans, the sort who may appear anonymously in an issue of a men's magazine and never be seen again. She was a former prom queen, multiple pageant winner, and honor student from the Chicago suburbs, a dreamer gone bad. In a town where hundreds of beautiful teens and early twentysomethings show up every month looking for stardom, not all of them make it, no matter how great their natural 36Ds or how long and perfect their legs were. Even her blonde hair and green eyes were real. After refusing to blow third-assistant producers for walk-on parts as a bikini-clad extra, almost getting date-raped by her agent, and spending a lot of time in the wrong kinds of clubs, she had discovered a lot of rich LA men would pay a lot of money to be abused, and she liked doing it. Some of them were such human trash she would have paid to hurt them, but abusing women was something she did strictly for fun. She'd met Lohan at a fetish-themed house party at the home of a fiftyish male producer who secretly liked women's clothing and taking large toys up his ass. She'd liked the way Lindsay's eyes had lit up, and taken her home that night. Unlike Lindsay and Van, Kristi was already "dressed" for the night's fun. She wore a tightly packed leather bra with a matching garter belt, all in basic black. She'd skipped the G-string from the set, since Vanessa had already eaten her to orgasm once tonight just for the right to be there. Hair pulled back, dark makeup including Bitch Red lipstick, a cute little spiked choker, backseamed stockings, and five inch spike heels completed the look.

Lindsay shivered at the thought. She'd pissed Mistress off before, but she'd been so out of control in her personal and public lives lately she knew she'd have to concentrate on behaving if she was to get any pleasure at all tonight. Times like this were all too rare anyway. Sure the press expected her to show up drunk or high and occasionally crash one of her cars. Letting them find out her test flights of most every cock in Hollywood had left her unsatisfied and had landed her on her knees worshipping another woman's stiletto heels? Forget it. Her career would never survive that, and she didn't have enough money in the bank not to be waiting tables inside five years. Less, the way she and Vanessa had been putting Colombia's finest up their noses.

As they ran to the back bedroom and began unpacking their garb for the evening's games, she figured Vanessa had troubles of her own. Her boy-band vet Nick Lachey was spending more time indulging his own same-sex desires, sneaking in and out of Chinatown and paying big bucks to beat the asses and suck the cocks of Asian teenagers. That's probably why he liked Vanessa for public occasions. She had a tight little brown ass, probably enough to make him ignore her perky tits. What Lindsay liked was that Vanessa was such a D-list celebrity that she'd do anything to be allowed hang around at parties with the more famous. She was so eager to please that she'd taken Paris Hilton's finger up her ass then licked it clean on a dare in a nightclub's back room. Paris, never one for attention span, laughed and walked away in search of other entertainment, so Lindsay wiped her tears and took her home twenty minutes later. Vanessa had ended the night collared and leashed to the foot of Lindsay's bed. Two weeks later she'd been brought over as a birthday present for Lindsay's Mistress.

Lindsay was going for "fetish slut" tonight. She pulled out a red leather corset with garter straps, stockings, matching five-inch fuck-me stilettos, and her restraints. Mistress had given her a full set of stainless steel wrist and ankle cuffs and a heavy collar to be worn on play nights. She loosely buckled the corset, knowing Mistress Kristi would relace it according to her mood.

Vanessa was doing the schoolgirl thing. She was quickly yanking her hair up into pigtails, then threw on a white tank top, a cheap pink plaid miniskirt, white ankle socks, and a really ugly pair of black buckle flats. Lindsay wanted to roll her eyes at the pathetic effort, but there wasn't time. In a town with Syren and Trashy Lingerie, she'd done her prep at Wal-mart by the look of it. God, she wanted to see her pay for it, too.

They ran back to the living room for Mistress's inspection. As Linday had hoped, Mistress wasn't happy with Vanessa's "homework". "That is the worst schoolgirl outfit I've ever seen. Like any bitch in class who fucks up her homework, it'll cost you later." Vanessa didn't care. She was so wired from being in a scandal-worthy situation with Lindsay "Maxim's Hottest of 2007" Lohan that going home tonight with a sore ass would be a small price to pay for the thrill.

Mistress's attention shifted to Lindsay. "Not bad, nice effort. You obviously put more effort into it than Van here. But your stocking seams are crooked, and you know I'm going to cinch that corset down. Vanessa, while I'm adjusting Lindsay's corset, go get two butt plugs out of the drawer. The two biggest in fact, and don't worry about the lube. I don't think either of you sluts needs it." Vanessa paled at that, but ran off obediently. Lindsay wanted to laugh at her transparent effort to get back into Mistress's good graces, but kept her composure. "Lindsay, turn around, hands behind your head."

Lindsay turned around, keeping her legs properly spread and her back arched forward. She hoped Mistress would notice the juices running down her thighs, and the fresh Brazilian waxing. Vanessa's tongue would feel so good down there...Meanwhile her corset laces were yanked mercilessy. "Breathe out, slut, that's it, much better."

Vanessa ran back up, plugs in hand. "Good. Vanessa, Lindsay gets hers lubed a little, so start sucking on the little one." Vanessa stared into Mistress's eyes, obediently licking and deep-throating the two-inch thick plug. Mistress took it from her with a scowl. "Stop flirting, bitch, you're going to suffer tonight already. Lindsay, bend over the back of the couch and spread your cheeks." Lindsay complied, teetering on her heels, the humiliation of her pose making her even wetter. She felt the tip against her tight asshole. "Now beg for it, bitch. Make me believe you really need something in your butt."

Lindsay took as deep a breath as she could inside the corset. "Mistress, your little slut needs her ass filled. You know I need it, that I'm just not happy without your toys in me, reminding me what a fucking whore I am, what a good whore I want to be for you."

"Not bad. Too bad you weren't that convincing in Herbie." She shoved an inch in, Lindsay grunting a little before the waves of pleasure rolled outward. "Keep talking."

"That feels so good, Mistress. Please, I'll be a good slut for you, please give me what I need." Another inch, the tapered plug rudely spreading her ass open. "Please, more, give your little whore more, fill her ass up before you beat it." Another two inches went in, the fattest part of the plug. Mistress held it there, cruelly stretching Lindsay's asshole.

"You like that part, don't ya, slut? Your ass stretches so pretty. That's the good thing about shoving so many Hollywood cocks up there, you're good and loosened up. I bet you licked all of them clean, too, right after they shot their loads up your ass. You must be a dirty fucking slut to lick a nasty cock covered in cum and ass juices. That just makes me want to get bigger toys and try to hurt your pretty little asshole, then maybe wipe them clean on your face." The plug slid into place with the faintest of popping sounds. "Good job. Now what do we say?"

Lindsay didn't have to fake the sound of delirious pleasure in her voice. She was soaking wet, her clit was throbbing, and right now she'd let Mistress wipe most anything on her. "Ooooh, thank you, Mistress. Your little slut is so happy with her toy in her ass."

A cruel chuckle. "Not bad. Now hold that pose, but put your wrists together behind your back. A padlock clicked, trapping her steel wrist cuffs together behind her. "Now Vanessa, give me that plug and bend over the couch next to Lindsay. Spread those cheeks for me."

Vanessa nervously complied. This plug was a three-incher, not a two. It was bigger than anything she'd ever had up her ass, and she knew Mistress was pissed at her. This was only her third play-date and she knew Lindsay was getting off on being one rung up the ladder on her. Well, she'd show that dumb cokehead who the better woman was here. She boldly leaned forward, spreading her ass cheeks as wide as she could. "Mistress, your slut is ready."

She got a hard slap across her ass. "Did I ask you to say shit? No. I don't give a fuck if you're ready or not. Straighten up a minute." A leather-wrapped steel ring gag was shoved into her mouth and a strap buckled around the back of her neck. "There you go. The only thing your mouth can do tonight to interest me is lick the sweat out of my ass crack once I make you regret being such a lazy bitch. Stick your tongue out." Vanessa obeyed, blushing in embarrassment. Mistress clipped a clothespin to the tip of her tongue. Pain shot down her tongue and through her jaw, but her nipples and clit hardened. For all her little obedience games and dares with Lindsay, and that night in the club with Paris, she was scared at the fact that the more pain she took, the more she got off on it. "Hands behind your back", and police-grade steel cuffs ratcheted around her wrists. "There we go. Now the faster you take this plug, the faster I'll put your tongue to other uses and get that clothespin off there. Now bend over, bitch, show me that cute little asshole."

There was no slow tease, no relaxing of the pucker, just a building wave of pain as Mistress ruthlessly shoved the dry rubber toy into her asshole. The scant bit of pussy juice and sweat that had run down there through the evening were her only help as the thick rubber plug stretched her more than she'd ever though possible. She wanted to scream around the gag, but forced herself to hold it. Mistress picked up on her poorly concealed pain. "That's it, Van, You know you want to scream. Scream for me, bitch", but the best she could manage was an agonized moan.

Panting for breath, and feeling unable to stand, Vanessa felt like she had to take the biggest shit of her life, but the groove and flange kept the plug firmly in place To make things worse, a tiny click, and it buzzed to life. She hadn't noticed that Mistress had modified the plug's core with a pocket-rocket vibe. Her knees buckled with the sudden waive of pain and pleasure, her tongue stinging as the clothespin was yanked off. "Now kneel down behind Lindsay there, and stick that tongue out. Start licking Lindsay's sweet little cunt there. It's such a pretty pussy. Too bad it's been a cum dumpster for every asshole with a TV gig." A girl-girl rookie the night Lindsay picked her up, Vanessa loved the taste of pussy now. She would have loved shoving a couple fingers up Lindsay's cunt as she ate, but she was helpless. Even if she was uncuffed, it was a rotten angle to work at. Eating from behind, the clit was down, not up, and the base of Lindsay's butt plug kept banging her in the nose. The rhythm of her lips and tongue were taken away by the ring gag, but she did the best she could. She felt cold steel slide down the back of her wife-beater, and she slowed her licking at the distraction. Mistress savagely yanked one of her pigtails. "Keep fucking licking, bitch. You really need to learn where you stand around here." Chastened, Vanessa dove back into Lindsay's pussy like it was the only thing that mattered. She tried to ignore the tugging at her shirt as one of the razor-sharp chef's knives sliced her thin top off, but the mere touch of the blade to her skin made her dizzy. What kind of deranged freak have I turned into? "No matter what happens, hold that pose and keep licking." A black leather blindfold cut off her vision, then agonizing pain shot from first her left nipple then her right one as clamps were fitted. She was helpless to do anything but moan into Lindsay's pussy. Then more clicks as police leg irons locked around her ankles.

Lindsay, already wanting to cum from the time she'd walked in the door, was shoving her cunt back onto Vanessa's tongue, while Mistress laughed at her predicament. "That's it, you little fucking whore, eat my pussy. Lick all that juice up. Oh gawwwwd...Mistress, may your slut cum?'

More laughter. "Yes, you may. But you'll owe me."

For the way her mind was being roughly reprogrammed in weekly doses, that was all the urging she needed to get off. Her knees buckled, and she sagged back against Vanessa's face with a screech.

"Very nice, Lindsay. Now get your ass over here and return the favor. Van, rest up a minute. I'm nowhere near done with your dopey ass yet."

To be continued when I have the time.