Page 30 of His Dark Vices

My little cry of surprise and the sound of the rattling chain echo through the room, too loudly. There must be microphones amplifying the sound on the stage. The crowd around us murmurs, and I swear I hear a giggle I've heard before. I keep tottering in place, trying to balance, and look around for Sam, expecting him to use the remote to lower me.

But he's just watching me, the mask hiding his expression.

"I-I can't—" I start, but Sam cuts me off.

"I know." He waits a beat longer before settling me with his firm grip. "Bear with it as long as you can."

I nod, but my body is already starting to shake at having to perch on my feet like this. Can Kitty and Mouse see metrembling? Did they tremble like this when he tied them up? Or did they do something different?

As I grapple with thoughts of them all together, Sam walks to the edge of the stage, sinks down to retrieve something, and comes back to me. Under the dimming lights, I can still catch a glint of steel as he comes nearer. I suck in an unexpected breath when I catch the sharp point and twist in place. I'm thrown off balance yet again, and Sam tut-tuts softly.

"If you don't keep still, this will be more difficult for you."

Sam steadies me with one hand, showing me the sharp shears in his other hand. My eyes don't leave the instrument for a second, and he seems to know this, as he moves it back and forth in front of my face. His hand smooths down my front carefully, deliberately not disturbing the balance I've managed to find again. Then his fingertips start walking to the hem of my dress, taking a hold there as he lowers the shears.

"Don't make a sound," he warns, anticipating my reaction.

I bite down on my lip, stifling the protest that almost left my mouth. He's about to cut my dress, but I don't want Kitty and Mouse to hear me complain. I swallow hard, acting like this is the most natural thing in the world, and nod meekly.

"Trust me," he says, so low that only I can hear it.

I nod again, acutely aware of my trembling form.

The shears bite into the bottom of my dress crisply, parting the material with ease. I flinch as it glides up, my stomach sucking away from the cold metal. With each snip, more of me is exposed. I know no one can see my skin, but standing here, growing gradually more exposed with so many people around, it's like I can feel their eyes picking me apart.

I hear myself struggle not to whimper as the dress falls away and hangs limply at my sides before Sam frees it from my body with a few more snips, leaving me in only the long sleeves. Theuseless material pools at my feet with a whisper, and the crowd stirs as if they can feel the coolness suddenly assaulting my body.

Can they also feel the growing apprehension? The vulnerability creeping across my stomach? I toss my head back and accidentally let another muffled whimper out. My arms are beginning to ache from holding this position, so are the balls of my feet.

But we're just getting started.

Sam's warm hand braces me again before he comes close again with the shears, hooking the cold metal beneath my black bra. I flinch hard at its touch and stumble in place, eliciting another restless shuffling from the crowd. He snips away the bra, then snips through my tights and the band of my panties before setting the shears on the ground and kicking them away to the far end of the stage.

With a speed and force that make me cry out, he grips my tights and rips them down my thighs, the splitting sound so sharp that it leaves my ears ringing. I try desperately not to spin out, and Sam isn't making things easier for me like he did before. He reaches out and grabs my panties, trapped between my thick thighs, and rips them free.

"Look at you now," Sam says, speaking normally as he circles behind me and pulls me to his body. "Do you like how it feels, your tits and pussy out for all to see? Want me to raise these curtains so everyone can get a good look?"

The crowd responds for me, not with words but with low hisses and excited shuffling, like they aren't people but animals.

I shake my head with a whimper, my wrists twisting in my restraints. Even if I say no, he still could. I'm completely at his mercy here, bare with nowhere to go.

There's nothing for me to do, nothing I can do right now.

And there's nothing I want to do right now but hang on Sam's every word. His tone is hard, which sends a shiver through me. I can tell that exposing me like this is doing something to him.

Something I like.

"No? But look at your nipples. They're hard as rocks, my little Bunny." He squeezes a nipple for emphasis and gives it a tug, making me gasp. "Are you getting excited at shamelessly baring yourself like this? You asked for it, remember?"

I hang my head forward, my arms trembling with the pain burning down to my shoulders. I want to bear this. I want to see where it goes.

I nod, and without warning, he strikes out at my bare ass, making me cry out against my will. Fuck! My head snaps up as I search the crowd.

They heard me. Are they laughing at me?

"I asked you a question, little Bunny."

"Yes!" I reply quickly, my muffled voice surprising me. It has a desperation that I know everyone can pick up on.

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