Razors & Ruin (Rare Horrors #1)

Chapter 5

5

Sweeney

I can’t lie; it felt good to make that pig-man squeal. Strip away the social niceties and knowing-your-placeness, and you’re left with little more than skin, flesh, and bone.

Rich men, poor men, obsessed little girls: they all bleed just the same. There’s a straightforward justice that comes with a sharp edge, and that edge is me .

“There’s enough here to pay for good meat,” I say, waving the money at Nellie. “Where would you buy it if you could?”

“There’s no good meat to be had,” she replies. I notice a sheen of sweat on her brow, and it occurs me I may have scared her.

“The traders grind up whatever they find. Anything dead and unwanted goes in. The Lords and Ladies get their protein from places the likes of you and me can’t get near.”

Nellie needs to turn her business around. It’s a sow’s ear now, but with a little lateral thinking, it could be a silk purse.

“Why did you run him off?” she asks. “Wetherby, I mean. He was prepared to give me a regular income. If that’s all that matters, what do you care what I have to do to keep a roof over my head?”

The smirk on her face is as arousing as it is infuriating. How dare she ask a question like that when I fucked her raw less than an hour ago?

Nellie reads my face and leans into her theme. “In fact, I think you were too hasty. Like he said, what’s a fuck between?—”

My hand is at her throat before I realize I’ve taken a step. The razor, too, shimmering in the lamplight, pressed to her cheek.

“Shut the fuck up, Mrs. Lovett,” I hiss. “You don’t fool me for a second. I walked through those doors, and you surrendered your body to me like it was your life’s very meaning. You will not be giving an inch to anyone other than me, ever, even if I have to kill you to prevent it. Is that clear?”

Her pulse surges against my thumb as I wedge it into the gap between the tendons. I turn the blade gently, scraping her skin, and some of her delicate peach fuzz skims off, tumbling onto her bodice.

“Is that fucking close enough?” she whispers. “I don’t think so.”

Nellie’s bed is large and surprisingly comfortable. I sit on the coverlet, spinning my razor between my fingertips as she strips.

She’s so pale. Poor nourishment means the woman has no length of bone; barely five foot two in her stocking feet, yet somehow well-proportioned and not lacking in robustness.

She flips her dress over her head, and my mouth goes dry at the sight of her pussy with its unruly crown of tangled hair.

I point. “ That is going.”

She glances down, smiling, and I enjoy her blushing behind her smattering of freckles. “I was always too afraid to try.”

I sit back and gesture at myself. “I’m a barber, aren’t I?”

“So I’m in safe hands?”

“Not at all, treacle. Are you insane?”

She giggles maniacally and retreats to the vanity, returning with a water basin, a soft rag, and a tiny bar of soap.

“Bring the rest of my razors,” I say.

She returns to my side. “I don’t have good things,” she begins. “But?—”

“Shhhh.” I pull her to sit, encouraging her onto her back, and kneel between her thighs. “That will do just fine. I will do my part, and you’ll do yours.”

I lather the soap in my hands. Of course, it’s not as good as a brush, but I can pick up some good boar bristle tomorrow. Besides, feeling Nellie’s smooth skin is no hardship.

She closes her eyes and breathes a deep exhale of pent-up tension. “That’s nice,” she says. “Be careful.”

I decide not to reply. I can make no such promises; the blade twitches, lively and hot in my hand, ready to work. I tell myself I have control over it, but I’m unsure.

Something about this woman’s almost suicidally stupid devotion to me is making me want to hurt her, if only a little. Just to see what it’d take to make her turn on me.

I swipe the cold steel through her curls, holding the skin taught. Seeing the dark forest disappear is gratifying, leaving a fresh, soft pinkness behind.

I work quickly, rinsing the razor in between each pass until all that’s left is the lightly bearded area of her inner pussy lips.

Nellie hasn’t moved a muscle. I lean up and tap her nipple with the chilly metal razor handle, making her jolt.

“Hold your slutty hole open for me,” I say. “I must get in here. A close shave is warranted, don’t you think?”

She nods and does as I bid, and I feel a pull in my abdomen when I see the deep rosy hue of her entrance, still swollen from its first cock. My cock.

My hands are waking up now, remembering. Muscle memory is strange; every smooth stroke and tiny angle adjustment comes as though ordained, and not a drop of blood is spilled.

I will not make her bleed by accident, but otherwise, I can’t say for sure.

Nellie is breathing heavily now. Her clit swells and flushes as I work around it, and she nudges her thumbs closer, teasing herself.

I take the cold steel razor and hold it against Nellie’s clit, and she gasps as the icy metal touches her sensitive skin, her body tensing in anticipation. Goosebumps rise on her flesh as I press the razor lightly, just enough to make her feel the danger.

“You’d better hold those pussy lips good and wide, treacle, or I’ll cut you. Don’t imagine I’ll pull away.”

She opens her eyes and stares at me, her mouth working open and closed. She knows she should say something to stop me, but the words die before they can be spoken.

I trace the flat edge of the razor along Nellie’s swollen labia, watching as her eyes flutter closed and her breath hitches in her throat. She’s so wet, I can feel it on my fingertips, and I know that she’s aching for my touch.

I press the razor a little harder, letting her feel the bite of the icy metal against her sensitive flesh. She gasps and her hips buck involuntarily, but I hold her down with a firm hand on her hip.

I run the blunt side of the razor up and down the length of her slit, teasing her mercilessly, and she whimpers and writhes beneath me, her clit swelling and pulsing with need.

“You’re a sick little whore, Nellie,” I whisper. I bring the razor up to her clit, holding it still for a moment, and she tenses. “You shouldn’t let me do this, and you know it. I could slash your cunt to ribbons here and now, and yet, you’re ready to come, aren’t you?”

“I cut myself to ribbons for you already.” She flexes her elbows so I can see her scarred arms better. “I don’t care what you do as long as you only do it to me.”

Her voice rises as she speaks. “You hear me? Everything I have is yours, but you better give yourself too, or I’ll—I’ll?—”

I flick the razor quickly, just grazing the sensitive bundle of nerves, and she cries out, her body shuddering as she comes hard. I keep the razor pressed against her clit as she rides out the waves of pleasure, her juices flowing freely down her thighs.

“I’ll give you whatever I want to give,” I say, unbuttoning my fly. “You’ll take it, feast or crumbs, because I have the measure of you, girl.”

She looks up at me with heavy-lidded eyes, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. “Give me that,” she says. “Give me the fucking razor, right now.”

I know I should refuse, but this little hellcat won’t slit my throat any more than she’d slit her own. I hand the blade to her, jerking my cock as she sheaths and unsheaths the murderous edge.

“I just wanna hold it,” she murmurs. “While you fuck me.”

I nudge the tip of my cock into her dripping hole, and she tilts her hips, making room for me. “That hurts still,” she says. “Will it always?”

I grip her hips and pull her closer, giving her another couple of inches, and she rewards me with a gush of juice. “Not if your nasty little snatch is gonna be so keen, treacle.”

Nellie holds the razor up to my face as I bear down on her. “I wanna make you hurt, Mr. T. You went away for years. Abandoned me to a loveless marriage and nothing to look forward to but pining and poverty. Don’t you think that was cruel?”

I growl and sling my hips, bottoming out, and she clenches her internal muscles, squeezing my shaft.

God, she’s a pleasant fuck. Yes, she may be utterly deluded, and I may have to give her an outlet for some of her nastier proclivities, but I can bleed a little for her. Seems only fair, given that I plan to reduce her to a husk before I’m through.

“What do you want, Nellie?” I slap her cheek firmly, and her head snaps to the side. “To cut me? I can fucking tell.”

She stares at me, eyes wide. “You’ll let me? Oh my God. I’ve come again and again imagining it.”

“So do it low.” I glance down. “Not that you need it, but there’s no such thing as too much lubrication, and it’ll look pretty on your skin.”

I pull out, and she sits up, transfixed on the throbbing erection glistening between my thighs. “Shallow, fast, decisive,” I say, taking her birdlike wrist in mine and guiding her hand. “I mean it.”

I move her to the right place, the cutting edge of the blade resting against my lower stomach. She holds the handle, her hand shaking slightly.

“Now, Nellie,” I say, reaching between her thighs. “Quickly, theres a good girl, before I change my mind.”

A bright flash from left to right heralds a tight, searing line of pain. She did well; it hurts like fuck, but I can tell it’s superficial. Years of practice on the canvas of her own body served her well.

She gasps and tosses the razor to the floor with a clatter as blood runs in lines, matting my pubic hair and flowing over my cock.

The look of horror on her face is enough to undo me, and without thinking, I swipe my hand through the blood and smear it over my cock, coating the length in warm, coppery-smelling crimson. She screams as I ball my other fist in her hair, cutting off her cry as I shove myself deep into her mouth.

“Suck it.” I hold her steady and fuck her face, enjoying the sounds of her gagging as her throat constricts around me. “You wanted to give me pain? Well, you got it. But you’re gonna take your medicine.”

Nellie grips my thighs, but she’s not fighting me. She’s fighting herself, adjusting to and accepting what I’m giving her. My blood pools in her lap, drenching her already-wet pussy, and I can stand no more.

I put both hands on her shoulders and shove her backward. Then I’m on top of her again, fucking my blood into her tightness, and she squeals, her fingers flying to her clit.

Sweet Lord, what depravity. Sweeney Todd finally lands on his feet.

The pain in my stomach mingles with the heat of Nellie’s clutching pussy. It’s like she wants to envelop me, subsume me into herself where I can never escape her. My balls tighten, and I pin her by the neck again, my other hand over her face.

“I’m gonna fill this nasty cunt again,” I snarl. “You’re a slut, you know that? A dirty little bitch who’s only good enough for the likes of me.”

The words that should debase and humiliate only serve to hurl her over the edge. She convulses, her hips bucking as she rubs my blood in to her turgid clit, her climax scourging every nerve. I dump my whole weight on her, twitching as I pump her with come.

I pull out and sit up on my heels. My clothes are soaked with her wetness and my exsanguination, but a wash and a patch-up will see me right.

Nellie, on the other hand, looks freshly killed; she has a vermillion smear of death smudged over her face where I grabbed her, and her neck blooms with maroon finger marks.

But it’s her smile that’s the stuff of nightmares.