Flickering Memories

Chapter 39

A/N: The image above does not belong to me. It belongs to the person who uploaded it on the internet.

Also, there will be some mature content in this chapter, so if you're below 18, or a sensitive adult, please skip this chapter, sorry.

Kimmon's POV

When Copter's shirt got halfway opened, he slowly moved towards me and started to unbutton my own shirt.

His eyes were fixed on me as if searching through my very soul.

His tongue was slightly sticking out from one side of his mouth.

"Emily,,," suddenly his ex partner's name went through my brain.

In his relationship, he was the dominant partner. Was he going to dominate me in our relationship?

Or was this just going to be a one time episode since he was the one who was going to be using the "paraphernalia" on me?

Wait, but he had whispered to me earlier that he was expecting me to use the feathered handcuffs and the rest of the paraphernalia on him.

I decided to wait and see where this seductive game of his was going to lead.

The soft seductive music started to have its effect on me as I felt him push my shirt open after he had gotten to the last button.

Then he turned around and got one of the long leather belts and started walking back to me.

My heart was in my throat as he slowly tied the belt around my neck.

I winced a little when I felt the cold buckle touch my warm skin. I winced some more when I felt him tighten the belt around my neck.

Holding the other end of the belt, he tugged at it. The force almost made me stumble towards the couch.

When we reached the couch, he cleared it of the rest of the paraphernalia by making one sweep of his hand and making them fall to the floor, except for the feathered handcuffs and an item that had gears with sharpened edges and a handle, much like that of a pizza cutter except the gears were bigger.

He made me lie on the couch, my wide open shirt still on my body.

I protested when he handcuffed me.

"I thought you wanted me to use these on you!"

"We will be taking turns, sweetheart," he whispered in my ear.

I watched him as he looked around the walls of my study.

Then his face lit up. He had seen the metal hook on the wall from where my trench coat was hanging.

He took the nylon rope from the floor, and started to uncoil it.

He tied one end of it on the metal hook and raising my handcuffed hands above my head, he tied my wrists with the other end.

"Don't look so scared, sweetheart," he whispered in my ear as he bent and took my handcuffed hands and gently rubbed his nipples against the feathers.

I heard him moan softly.

I was still too anxious to feel turned on by anything.

He walked to the side of the couch. I could tell his nipples had hardened by the feathery feel of my handcuffs.

Then I saw him raise his right arm.

Oh, shit, I had forgotten about the "pizza cutter" that he was still holding with his right hand.

He climbed the couch and straddled me. His smile had a naughty wicked gleam.

"You know, Kimmon," he said, bending slightly forward, his voice barely above a whisper, "when I was taking my surgery class, I had always fantasized using something like this instead of a scalpel."

"That's enough!!!" I screamed, "Bernard! Help!!!"

"He can't come in, sweetheart," he whispered in my ear, "I locked the door of your study, remember?"

My chest was heaving now, my breathing labored and uneven.

Suddenly, Copter broke out in hysterical laughter.

"You started it, P'Kim," he said between laughter, "you tried to scare me with this stuff."

"You sonfabitch!" I yelled at him, "untie me right now!"

"Not yet," he said, "let's have a little fun with these paraphernalia before you stash it away. I promise I won't do anything to hurt you. You can always tell me when you've had enough. I will respect your wishes, how about that?"

"Okay," I said, although there was still some hesitation in my voice.

I felt the cold sharp metal against my skin as he pressed it against the side of my neck, lightly at first and then a little harder. I tried not to wince at the pain. I nervously expected to feel some blood trickle down the side of my neck.

Then he let it roll down to my throat and downwards to the middle of my chest.

He let it run sideways back and forth against my nipple. The erotic action made my nipple harden. He did the same with my other nipple, with the same effect on it.

He had a triumphant smile on his face when he felt my hardness jab right into his back entrance.

He slid a little backward toward my thighs as he unbuckled my pants and zipped it open.

He could see my manhood straining against the fabric of my briefs as he pulled down my pants all the way off my thighs and my legs and my feet and then tossed them to the floor.

"If I hurt you in any way, just say "stop!" and I will," he said as I felt him running the pizza cutter across my lower abdomen, over my navel and on to my hardened member.

The sharpness of the steel somehow served to make it grow even harder.

I was well and truly turned on now.

I wanted so much to seek release. The hardness was bordering on pain.

I wanted badly to jerk myself off but I was helplessly handcuffed and tied.

"Copter, help me," I said in a voice that was a combination of moaning and begging.

I desperately hoped that he would give in to my plea as I searched his face piteously.

"I will, sweetheart, I will," he said, "... in due time..."