(2/3)

She was still very much on edge as the next client finally entered the room, then entered her. Her whole body was tingling. She felt alive, more alive than any other time in the week. She whispered “Release”, adding just the tiniest bit of voice to it. Still not enough for Greg to hear. She was still safe. It was still fine. She didn’t want to die. She wasn’t going to die. “Release.”

“Oh shit, dude, this bitch fuckin’ said it,” the man moaned, and she felt the thrusts of his orgasm.


Chelsea bit her lip. Deep breaths. Don’t come. Not yet.

“I didn’t hear it,” replied Greg.

“Come on, man, she said it.”

“Sorry, dude. She’s got to say it louder if she wants it. Those are the rules.”

Chelsea’s body was on fire. Still, she held it down. She wanted this feeling to last. The feeling of being on the edge. This had happened a few times before, where the man fucking her heard her. It always sent her into overdrive. She had to be careful, it was addictive. She’d started out being very careful not to make any noise, not to say anything that even resembled the word.

But a year or so in, she’d started mouthing it for that little extra thrill.

Then a year after that, she’d started whispering it. She certainly wouldn’t say it any louder than she had been, though, to be safe. 

After the man left, Greg marked the room as offline and helped Chelsea out of her restraints and into the bathroom stall. Her legs were pretty wobbly.

—

Tomas: Hey, do you know where my red hoodie is?
Chelsea: I think I saw it in the kitchen

Chelsea’s body was still flooded with endorphins as she sat on the toilet texting her husband.

Tomas: Found it. Thanks. Having fun at work?
Chelsea: Oh, you know it. Nonstop thrills.

She loved her husband. He was amazing, kind, handsome. They didn’t have their own kids, not yet, but he was great with other couples’. Everything a woman could want. Almost everything.


Chelsea: It feels like customers have been riding me all day.
Tomas: Aww, poor bby. I’ll give you a nice long massage when you get home.
Chelsea: You’re the best. I don’t deserve.
Tomas: YOU’RE the best. Kisses!
Chelsea: Kisses!

Tomas thought she was at her normal job, her Sunday-to-Wednesday job. He didn’t know what she did with her Thursdays. The tips she got here were far more than she ever made at her regular 9-5. It was a nice little bonus. Of course, she didn’t do it for the money.

After she flushed, she took a moment to look at herself in the mirror. At 27, she was starting to notice the first hints of age, but she was still taught and tight in all the right places. She and Tomas had been married for five wonderful years. She’d been coming here for four. The sex with Tomas was amazing. He was vigorous, consistent, never selfish. She always achieved orgasm.

She always thought about the guillotine.

She’d caught herself whispering “release” when Tomas was fucking her on more than one occasion. Of course, he didn’t know what she really meant. He’d never come to a place like this. He was faithful. Plus, he would barely even spank her in bed, much less get off on fucking a random woman who might ask to have her head lopped off at any moment.

Sometimes she thought of Tomas while she was strapped down. Imagined him having a secret dark side. Imagined him flying into a rage seeing her spread and dripping with other men’s come, overpowering the doctor attending her, and pressing the button himself. She imagined him calling her a whore, a cheating slut, a filthy cunt. She imagined him lifting her head from the basket and giving her mouth one last good fuck.

She took a long drink from one of the little water bottles the company provided in the bathroom. It’s important to stay hydrated. Stay hydrated, stay healthy.

—

He was in her ass, her legs up on his shoulders, his whole weight leaning into her.

“Say it. Say it, bitch.”

Her mouth was moving. Forming the word at his command. Sometimes regulars did talk to her. 

“Fucking piece of meat. Tell him to release the blade. Tell him you want me to be your last.”

Most guys just wanted a warm willing hole to stick their dicks in. Some guys, though…

“Say it. Say ‘release’. You know you want to. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want it.”

She saw herself at the edge. He was the devil on her shoulder. He was the call of the void. She’d heard his voice before, on more Thursdays than she could remember. She’d also heard his voice in her head, with Tomas, commanding her in a way her husband never did. He’d heard her voice too. It was why he kept coming back to her, why he learned her schedule. She’d never seen his face, but they’d heard each other’s voices. “Release,” she said, barely audible, just barely.

“Louder. Louder girl. Shout it out.”

“Release.” Quieter. Just a whisper. She didn’t want to die. She was in control

“You little tease. I want to feel that ass of yours grab my dick when your head pops off. Say it!”

She bit her lip. She was close. So close. Deep breaths. So close.

“You KNOW you WANT it you WHORE you FUCKING SLUT you CUNT fucking SAY IT.”

His thrusts punctuated his sentence. The guillotine shook with each thrust. Zero point oh two. It could just come down. It could fall at any second, regardless of what she said or didn’t say. Deep breaths. Her lips moved. She said the word. Quietly. Oh so quietly. She said it for him. Just loud enough for him to hear. Quietly. But… louder. Louder than she had ever before.

He came.

“Worthless fucking cunt. Filthy cock tease cumdumpster. I fucking hope your worthless meat ends up in the fucking dumpster.”

She heard him putting on his pants. 

She heard a rustle of money.


He was always one of her best tippers.

The door opened and closed again.