The Blade's Edge

The Blade's Edge


Original fiction by Sitting on Satan


You may not use these characters for your own work without my explicit permission.


A little bit of fun, nothing serious here. Just some fantasy fodder to make the long nights pass a little more interestingly. Enjoy.


This is part two of a projected three.



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A while after Trent left, Neridia had managed to pull herself together. Her tears had dried; her only motions now were shivers from a draft blowing across her shoulders. She could feel her nipples hardening, and tried not to think at how she must look, spread out and tied across the bed.


As her body cooled, her temper heated. How could he just leave her like that? She twisted against the ties around her wrists, more out of irritation than any real belief that she could escape. He seemed to have been telling the truth when he said he'd tied up ladies before.


Neridia shivered, but this time it was not from the cold. It was obvious this man knew what he was doing and enjoyed watching her writhe at his hands. What had he said about tormenting her for days? She started absently nipping at her bottom lip as her mind supplied her with images to match that statement.


Trent wouldn't let her go hungry, she was sure, but he wouldn't let her feed herself either. No doubt he would make her take every morsel from his hands; hold a cup to her lips if she was thirsty; all while smiling that same beautiful -- annoying! -- smile.


And the rest of the time....


Memory of what he had done so far was enough to fuel her imagination of what he would do the rest of the time. Stroke every inch of her skin with his gloved hands. Tease her with the knife again. Just lean over and whisper everything he could do into her ear.


Neridia struggled against her bonds one last time, this time with an overwhelming urge to get free so she could touch herself. Damn Trent for getting her so worked up when he wasn't even in the room! Her hips arched, just a little, of their own volition and she could hear her breathing start to speed up again. It was suddenly too warm instead of too cold, and she could feel her chest heaving, and if only the ropes were a little looser she could clench her thighs and try to find some small relief....


"Damn him, damn him, damn him!" she shrieked, hands clawing at thin air as frustration and desire surged together into one overpowering wave of feeling.


"So eager to curse me when I hurried back just to be with you again?" Trent's amused voice came from the doorway of the room. Straining her neck, Neridia could see him leaning on the doorframe, wearing nothing other than a short bath towel tied around his waist.


Trent's hair was wet, dripping onto his bare chest and leaving a few gleaming trails of water across it. The towel barely covered him, yet he seemed completely unconcerned -- smile fixed into place still.


"I take it you missed me," he said, pushing himself off the doorframe and starting toward her in one graceful movement.


Neridia shook her head vehemently. "If I missed you, why would I be cursing you, you fool? I was angry because you left me tied up here and just wandered off."


Trent rested one knee on the bed beside her and leaned down to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. "Just angry?"


"Of course, just angry." Neridia decided that she would not be won over so easily a second time. However sweet his smile and beautiful his eyes, he was just a common guard, and an annoying one at that. She would have to provoke him into using her and then he would leave.


She shifted a little, arching her back and tilting her head to display her neck. "Well.... Mostly just angry." She faked the blush of a shy maiden -- though she was long past either maidenhood or shyness.


Trent nodded slowly. "That's what I thought." He slid off the bed and rummaged through his clothing, returning with his gloves and the knife.


Neridia's eyes darted toward the blade and she almost let a whimper slip out. "Please, don't use that on me again." She widened her ice-blue eyes and turned the full of her charm on him. "Don't hurt me, please."


It was impossible to judge how much he was moved by her acting, but Neridia thought she saw a softening in Trent's eyes as he gazed down at her.


Leaning down to speak directly into her ear, Trent murmured, "You haven't fooled me, lady."


"W-what do you mean?" Neridia batted her eyelashes, realizing that her eyes were wide with a slow, growing mix of anticipation and fear.


"Your little helpless act won't work with me. I've seen you in a fit of anger, and nearly senseless with passion, and you think you can trick me?" Trent chuckled, and Neridia felt the curve of his lips against her ear. "I will do exactly what I want, for as long as I want, and there's nothing you can do to change that. Do you understand, yet? You aren't just tied up, you are completely under my control."


A trail of warm wetness slid down her cheek, and Neridia realized she was both shaking and crying. "I... understand. I won't try to trick you anymore." She turned her face toward him, hoping that he would believe her this time.


Trent pulled back a little and looked her in the eye. Pulling off his right glove, he wiped the tears from her cheek and patted her head. "That's much better, my lady." He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers; slow, delicate movements that were so gentle Neridia relaxed almost instantly. "Can't have someone so beautiful crying, now can we?"


The kisses moved from her mouth to her cheeks, her nose, even her closed eyelids. Then then stopped, and Neridia felt a sudden chill as Trent moved away. Before she could open her eyes to see what had happened, she heard a slap and then a sting of pain across her cheek.


"While not trying to fool me is an improvement, you shouldn't have done so in the first place. Now, I'm feeling kind today, so that little tap with my glove is a warning. Do not attempt to take control again." Neridia opened her eyes to see Trent sliding his glove back on and picking up something else from the floor.


Trent leaned down and wrapped a thick scarf over her eyes, knotting it securely on the side of her head. "Let's see how you do without your sight for the time being."


Something slightly cold was placed between her breasts and Neridia jumped. When a thin, cool point of metal was pressed against the base of her throat, she knew that her tears were close to falling again.


"That's my knife resting right down the center of your chest, if you haven't already guessed." Trent sounded like he was enjoying himself immensely. "So don't lift your head, no matter what I do to you."


He leaned down and started speaking into her ear in a dark tone of voice that made Neridia squirm. "You can't see, you can't move, no matter what else happens. Even if I called all the other guards in here and let them take their pleasure of you, one right after the other. Even if do I decide to torment you for hours or days. You're all mine, now."


"What?" Neridia felt the knife's tip press a little harder as she spoke, but had to ask anyway. "But I belong to the emperor."


"Not anymore. You belong to me, and only me now. So I would suggest you forget about this being over with only one encounter. I have an entire world of sensations to inflict upon you, and I can do so at my leisure."


Trent moved away from her ear, trailing kisses down her side that were so light they almost tickled. He stopped at Neridia's hip and she felt his smile against her skin. "Hmm, what to do, what to do?" Trent mused aloud, "I want to make use of that lovely body of yours, but not until you beg me to, I think."


Indignation flared up in Neridia. "I wouldn't beg for that, ever!"


Trent laughed and patted her hip. "Oh, you will, and I won't listen until you beg with the crudest words you know." The weight of the knife was suddenly lifted from Neridia's chest, and she felt all her muscles tense.


The flat brushed around her navel for a moment, and she jerked against her ropes. She strained her ears, but there was not even the faintest sound to give her a hint of what Trent would do next.


"If you could only see what you look like...." Trent's voice was barely above a whisper, but Neridia heard every word. "Trying so very hard not to desire this, not to desire me." His voice moved closer, murmuring against her cheek again. "And yet, your breasts move with every little jump when I touch you, and your legs try to spread a little wider with every word I say." The last four words were punctuated with one gloved hand trailing down to rest at the bottom edge of her stomach.


There was nothing but silence for a moment, broken by Neridia's half bitten-back whimpers.


"Yes, I don't think I'll listen until you've pleaded with me quite sincerely. Since I am fairly sure this is your first time in such a situation, I'll even explain it to you." Trent continued speaking as he started tracing random patterns around her breasts with the knife's point. "You will address me as master, of course. Call me anything else and you risk another punishment -- and it will not be a simple slap, next time. As for what you wish me to do," there was a short pause and a chuckle, "I'm sure you know as many crude words as anyone else."


As Trent dragged the blade over Neridia's bare skin, she swore she could hear the smile in his voice.


"Let's begin, for real, shall we?"