Chapter 10: The Big Date (F-solo, MF rp nc viol)

Thirty minutes before her date, and Sonja found herself wandering around her house. Her heels clicked against the wooden steps as she mounted the stairs again. She peered into her mother’s rooms before sighing and trailing back down the staircase. The empty hall surrounded back at her and she sighed again in annoyance. Her eyes glanced up at the clock which ticked another second in defiance.

A feeling of illness squishes her stomach as she frowned. The urge to lock the door and crawl back into bed rose up inside her and she almost submitted to the cold sensation. Fighting it, she wandered into the living room and sat down heavily. The couch wheezed with frustration as she straightened the narrow dress wrapped around her body. It was black, with red trim, with hints of Japanese in its style but all American in how much it showed off the smooth skin of her cleavage, legs, and arms. Stretching out one leg, she peered at her trim leg with muscles rippling perfectly underneath it. Months of frequent cheer practice and sports events forged her body into a shape that rivaled many of the models in her fashion magazines. All without the unreasonable starvation.

That thought brought a smile to her lips, the taste of the lipstick suddenly reminding of her date. Her smile faded as she set down her leg, folding her fingers in her lap as she tried to wait. Her eyes peered over to the mechanical clock which a glass clock with brass gears spinning underneath. Barely a minute had passed since she last looked and she still wasn’t excited about her date.

With a supreme effort, she forced herself to hold still, waiting for Rick to whisk her away to her date. Her face dropped into a frown as she replayed the conversation with Betty, pushing her into the date then Rick repeating almost everything Betty said. Finally, her thoughts drew to the conversation in the bus. The sickness in her stomach redoubled as she felt guilt gnawing at her.

“Why didn’t I say yes? Yes, Meris was my friend.”

Her guilt-filled voice filled the living room, but no answer came. For a moment, she thought she would hear one, a strange sensation of being watched crawling along the hairs of her neck. Unconsciously, she reached up and brushed her fingers against them, feeling each one standing up. Her fingers trailed up to the French braid, expertly done by a local salon.

Impatience finally peaked as she sat there and she stood up just as the doorbell rang out through the house. Surprised, she let out a tiny shriek and stared at the clock, twenty-five minutes after Rick was suppose to pick her up.

Startled that he was early for once, she straightened her dress and strode out to the hallway door. Unbolting it, she opened it and jumped again as she saw a FedEx delivery man standing there. He smiled at her, then his jaw dropped slowly as she watched his eyes trail down her body. A faint flush filled her cheeks as his gaze turned into one of temporal lust.

The flush grew as a silence stretched between them. She broke the silence with a curt question. “Yes?”

He shook his head, holding out a large box for her.

“Delivery for Sonja Bremus?”

Still startled and flushed, she nodded and took it. It was heavy, heavier than she expected. Setting it down, she signed the clipboard and smiled faintly as he held it front of his crotch, hiding the growing bulge in his pants. As she closed the door, she felt a feeling of triumph, that she was gorgeous enough for Rick, even if she wasn’t sure about the date.

She started to bring the box to the table, but her shoe slipped and pinched her toe. She kicked it off before entering the dining room. Setting the box down on the table, she inspected the label. It was from her mother, to her. Frowning, she wondered what it was as she tore open the box using the strip and pulled out its contents. It was large and metal, a plate about two feet long and very heavy. Her finger caressed the edge of the plate and found a flare on two of the edges and a pair of holes along the third. The final edge angled sharply, with a strange swirl of brushed metal along the very edge.

Shivering sightly, she reached out for the strange edge and felt the very sharp blade along its length. Setting it down on the table, she stared at it for a long time, trying to figure out why her mother would send her a metal blade the size of a guillotine-

Gasping, she grabbed the blade and sprinted down the stairs, leaving her heels by the front door. Her bare feet slapped against the heavy wooden stairs before throwing herself into the workshop. The guillotine stood in front of her, towering about her with the polished warmth of wood.

A twisting of excitement replaced the sickness in her stomach as she set the heavy blade down on the plank for the guillotine’s victim. Her hands worked quickly, removing the wood that kept it in place. Grunting, she set the blade in and replaced the frame. A flush of excitement rose inside her, not to mention a tingling of pleasure deep in her sex, as she saw the blade fixed in place, completely covering the hole where a neck would go. The excitement spiked as she imagined herself on that board, tied down with that shimmering blade above her.

Panting, she staggered over to the bench and found some heavy rope. Threading it through the hole of the blade, she strung it up. The blade rasped softly as she lifted it up into place, straining slightly against the weight as it slowly rose up, then clicked into place. The dampness grew between her legs as she stood next to the guillotine, looking up at the blade and her fingers caressing the wood.

It was perfect. The guillotine was done. Deadly elegance in her basement and she built it from scratch. An overwhelming sense of pride filled her as she leaned up against the stand, pressing her crotch up against the outer edge of the wood. The delicate material of her dress didn’t even catch or stain on the burnished wood. Her fingers wrapped around, caressing the metal channel the blade would slide down. She pressed her lips to the wood, barely tasting wood and sawdust as she felt an incredible surge of heat throb inside her, filling her sex with a forbidden lust of death.

Against her will, she felt herself grinding up against the wood, rocking her hips against it as she felt the unyielding power press against the fabric over her sex. Her fingers gripped tightly as she moaned, a tiny sound that rippled through the workshop.

Then a flash of heat rushed around her. A click snapped out and she felt the entire guillotine vibrate. Her eyes caught sight of movement and she yanked her fingers back, just as the heavy blade rattled down. Her body, pressed tightly against the wood, felt every vibration rocking through her senses as it plummeted, crashing down hard on the wood and sending a bolt of power through the wood. The vibrations triggered an orgasm as she screamed out in pleasure, the adrenaline of fear multiplied by the pleasure of her grinding. Her palms gripped the edge of the guillotine, her fingers well out of the way of the channel, as she felt the final spasms of ecstasy ripple away.

Gasping for more, she felt the heat surging inside her and started to pull up on her dress as the doorbell rang out through the house. For a moment, she stood there, her fingers caressing her inner thighs as she contemplated not answering it.

It rang out again and she felt the pleasure dripping away. Whimpering to herself, she pushed down her dress and straightened it. The edge of pleasure remained as she padded up the stairs and she paused at the top, fingers holding the icy-cold handle, to catch her breath. The doorbell rang out again and Sonja was finally composed enough to answer it.

Rick was impatiently waiting, wearing a neat shirt and jeans, but nothing as fancy as her dress. He looked like it barely changed his outfit after working out, the faint smell of his sweat clinging to her senses. He smiled, a sloppy smile, and flexed his muscles as he held out his hand. Sonja watched as he moved, a sense of power without grace in every motion. She only had dull feelings for him, no love or even lust. Her disinterest was magnified by his lack of effort to dress up for their first date.

Rick, on the other hand, continued to smile as he shoved his hand around her waist, pulling her close to him. “Fuck, you’re sexy.”

Sonja, despite a growing feeling of unease, let him wrap her tighter, but managed to slip away from his heavy-handed attempt to kiss her. His cologne was almost overpowering as she was pressed against his muscles.

“Aw, come on. Its our first date.”

She looked up at him, he was a few inches taller than her, “Then the kisses happen at the end, not the beginning.”

His mouth worked for a moment, then his grin widened.

Sonja felt sick as he drew her down the porch and to his car. The throb of the stereo, the base too loud, vibrated the gravel in the drive as he released her in front of his car. Instead of opening the door for her, he just dropped his body into his seat and waited for her to get in. Sonja gave him a very brief glare and stepped around the car, feeling the waves of sound exploding from inside.

Barely managing to get into the car, she shrieked as he dropped it into gear and spun out of the drive, grinning like a fool. Sonja yelled at him to slow down as she buckled her seatbelt, but the stereo was too loud. As the car plunged into the road, she reached out to turn down the stereo, but he batted away her hand.

Shocked, Sonja started to yell at him, but a pressure on her thigh stopped her. Looking down, she saw that his motion stopped on her thigh, his thumb pressed against her outer leg and his fingers creasing the fabric between her legs.

Frowning, she picked up his hand and tossed it off.

Rick just grinned at her.

Sonja turned away and watched her reflection in the tinted glass as houses and trees sped past. She didn’t need to look at him to see that he was staring at her, nor did she need to look at the speedometer to know he was going at least thirty miles too fast. Holding her arms around her waist, she just continued to glare out the window.

When the car stopped in front of a Denny’s, she finally stirred. “You have to be kidding.”

“What? What’s wrong with here?”

She turned enough to glare at him, her eyes flashing, “Do you see anyone here with a dress? Or on a date?”

Rick peered out of the window, at the restaurant, his brown eyes scanning. Sonja’s glare grew darker when she counted to five before he finally responded.

“Uh... no?”

Feeling like she was talking to a five year-old, she pointed to the steering wheel, “Why don’t we try the Anvil Club? You can get into there, right? I heard it was good.”

Rick frowned, “The Anvil Club, why would I want to go there-”

“Rick....” she let her voice trailed off.

“Fine, the Anvil Club.”

The car lurched out of the parking lot and Sonja’s knuckled whitened around the seat belt as she ground her jaw together. Rick ignored her, his lips pressed tight, as he punched his car through town, to the upscale area of town before stopping in front of a nondescript building with an anvil in front.

Shaking from the car ride, Sonja let herself out of the car as Rick crawled out. A valet took his keys, ignored his demand to keep his baby safe, and drove the car to the valet parking lot. Rick wrapped one arm around Sonja’s waist and almost pushed her to the door. She followed, moving quickly to keep on her heels.

Inside was a dark, quiet restaurant. The suited man in the front gave an appreciative glance to Sonja which faded as he stared at Rick. “I’m sorry, sir, we do have a dress code here.”

“What? What kind of code?”

“Suit and tie... sir.”

Rick snarled and tugged at Sonja.

“Come on, let’s find a different place.”

Sonja stared at him, not moving. She didn't want to go on the date, she didn't want to be there, but she was damned if she was going to Denny's for a date.

His arm bunched up, about to yank her out, when a voice, a dreadfully familiar voice cut through the entry hall of the tiny restaurant.