This is not pretty, so be warned.
-------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------
A couple hours later, Grady gasped in a deep breath, and twisted on the table and tried to rise. When he realized he was restrained, he began to fight.
She bookmarked her page and rose, then leaned over him, smiling. “Hi, Grady. Sleep well?”
He grunted and looked at her. Saw those perfect breasts and soft skin through the raincoat’s clear plastic, untouched by ink. His eyes begged her for an explanation, even as he pulled at the restraints. He managed to grunt something like, “What the fuck?”
She ran her sharp fingernails from his cheek down along the lion-woman tattoo and across his crotch, toying with his dick and balls. “You’ve got a lot of color on you,” she said, continuing to trail her fingers down the Frazetta on his leg. “Beautiful work. Must’ve taken a dozen visits. Have I shown you mine?”
She lowered the raincoat, swept up her hair and turned to reveal the tattoo of a young woman’s face on her left shoulder, with a date below it. She turned back to him.
“Not as elaborate, but probably more meaningful. Notice what day I used?”
He looked and frowned, like he was trying to remember. Then he grumbled what sounded like, “I dunno what you’re talkin’ about. You got the wrong guy. I ain’t don’t nothin’ to you. I don’t even know you.”
“No, Grady. You’re exactly who I was looking for. You and a few others. Your tag-team buddies? Does that mean anything?”
He huffed and grunted out, “Who are you!? What do you want!?”
“Who am I? Carolina Vincenzo. Notice the pronunciation – Car-oh-leena. Carli, to my friends. But that’s not the important part. It’s my last name. Vincenzo. Touch any memory cells?” Then she groped his genitals. Dug her nails into them.
He grunted in pain then froze. Finally he looked at her. Understood. Let his eyes travel over the plastic sheeting everywhere. Started to breathe faster. Pulled harder at the straps.
She noticed he noticed and smiled. “Good. I hoped you’d remember. And that you’d be awake to show me how much you remembered. All this,” she said, motioning around the room, “it’s just a little something I learned from Dexter. Makes the cleanup so much easier.”
His eyes grew wide and he shook his head, terrified, and bucked as much as he could against the table.
Her smile widened. “Now…what do I want?” She picked up a scalpel. Ran it over his skin, sensuously. Flicked his nips with its glistening edge. Caressed his neck and chest and belly. Toyed with his pubes.
“What I want is simple. So easy. So perfectly easy.”
He shivered and strained to move away from the gleaming knife. Tried to watch her with it. Then closed his eyes and shook his head, muttering words of disbelief.
Her smile vanished. “I want you to suffer.”
She sliced the scalpel into his left thigh. Grady screamed and struggled and pulled and strained and wept from the searing pain and sharp, quaking fear as blood flew everywhere, but the restraints held him in place, And slowly, carefully, bit by bit, she peeled the tattoo of the Frazetta woman away from his skin.
It was not a clean job. He could still squirm away from the scalpel, not much but enough to make it harder for her. By the time she was done, chunks of his flesh were still attached to it. She laid the tattoo on the broiling tray. Aside from a couple of wrong slices, the artwork was intact. She smiled, pleased with herself.
Grady finally lay back, gasping in breath, whimpering. Carli took bandages from a drawer in the medicine cart and tended to the raw leg, like a mother. Blood soaked the gauze.
He grunted in pain and looked at her, confused.
“I’m not doing this to be merciful, Grady,” she said, ice in her voice. “We’ve got four more tattoos to remove, and I don’t want you to bleed to death. I want you to feel every one of them.”
His head rocked back and forth. He begged her with his eyes. Grunted, “No, please, no.”
She finished the bandage then stood and faced him, blood smeared over the raincoat. Drops caught in her hair. A heartless expression on her face. She moved up to position herself over his chest. Pinched his tit.
Grady choked and fought, like a madman, lost in terror…as Carli began peeling away the lion-woman.
His choking shrieks filled the garage and echoed into the dark, empty desert.
She bookmarked her page and rose, then leaned over him, smiling. “Hi, Grady. Sleep well?”
He grunted and looked at her. Saw those perfect breasts and soft skin through the raincoat’s clear plastic, untouched by ink. His eyes begged her for an explanation, even as he pulled at the restraints. He managed to grunt something like, “What the fuck?”
She ran her sharp fingernails from his cheek down along the lion-woman tattoo and across his crotch, toying with his dick and balls. “You’ve got a lot of color on you,” she said, continuing to trail her fingers down the Frazetta on his leg. “Beautiful work. Must’ve taken a dozen visits. Have I shown you mine?”
She lowered the raincoat, swept up her hair and turned to reveal the tattoo of a young woman’s face on her left shoulder, with a date below it. She turned back to him.
“Not as elaborate, but probably more meaningful. Notice what day I used?”
He looked and frowned, like he was trying to remember. Then he grumbled what sounded like, “I dunno what you’re talkin’ about. You got the wrong guy. I ain’t don’t nothin’ to you. I don’t even know you.”
“No, Grady. You’re exactly who I was looking for. You and a few others. Your tag-team buddies? Does that mean anything?”
He huffed and grunted out, “Who are you!? What do you want!?”
“Who am I? Carolina Vincenzo. Notice the pronunciation – Car-oh-leena. Carli, to my friends. But that’s not the important part. It’s my last name. Vincenzo. Touch any memory cells?” Then she groped his genitals. Dug her nails into them.
He grunted in pain then froze. Finally he looked at her. Understood. Let his eyes travel over the plastic sheeting everywhere. Started to breathe faster. Pulled harder at the straps.
She noticed he noticed and smiled. “Good. I hoped you’d remember. And that you’d be awake to show me how much you remembered. All this,” she said, motioning around the room, “it’s just a little something I learned from Dexter. Makes the cleanup so much easier.”
His eyes grew wide and he shook his head, terrified, and bucked as much as he could against the table.
Her smile widened. “Now…what do I want?” She picked up a scalpel. Ran it over his skin, sensuously. Flicked his nips with its glistening edge. Caressed his neck and chest and belly. Toyed with his pubes.
“What I want is simple. So easy. So perfectly easy.”
He shivered and strained to move away from the gleaming knife. Tried to watch her with it. Then closed his eyes and shook his head, muttering words of disbelief.
Her smile vanished. “I want you to suffer.”
She sliced the scalpel into his left thigh. Grady screamed and struggled and pulled and strained and wept from the searing pain and sharp, quaking fear as blood flew everywhere, but the restraints held him in place, And slowly, carefully, bit by bit, she peeled the tattoo of the Frazetta woman away from his skin.
It was not a clean job. He could still squirm away from the scalpel, not much but enough to make it harder for her. By the time she was done, chunks of his flesh were still attached to it. She laid the tattoo on the broiling tray. Aside from a couple of wrong slices, the artwork was intact. She smiled, pleased with herself.
Grady finally lay back, gasping in breath, whimpering. Carli took bandages from a drawer in the medicine cart and tended to the raw leg, like a mother. Blood soaked the gauze.
He grunted in pain and looked at her, confused.
“I’m not doing this to be merciful, Grady,” she said, ice in her voice. “We’ve got four more tattoos to remove, and I don’t want you to bleed to death. I want you to feel every one of them.”
His head rocked back and forth. He begged her with his eyes. Grunted, “No, please, no.”
She finished the bandage then stood and faced him, blood smeared over the raincoat. Drops caught in her hair. A heartless expression on her face. She moved up to position herself over his chest. Pinched his tit.
Grady choked and fought, like a madman, lost in terror…as Carli began peeling away the lion-woman.
His choking shrieks filled the garage and echoed into the dark, empty desert.
No comments:
Post a Comment