Sadist's Memoir

(Heads up, this is SMUT with a wicked plot twist at the end! Enjoy!)

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Avenue Amor.

The infamous street of pleasures was one I was quite familiar with, seeing as I’d been there quite a lot of times. Was I a regular customer there? Perhaps it would seem so to other customers. Just another anonymous fellow in a three-piece suit and coat here for a good time.

Which I was, by the way.

Lucille’s body was something I could not think about without the stirring in my loins overriding all reasonable, logical thought. The soft rise of her plump breasts, her small, handy waist, her appreciably plump ass and those long, shapely legs…

I digress, and I am aware of it. Surely you’d understand that some things are too good to just overlook or talk about casually. From the first day I had become hooked to her, and luckily for me, she had too. It was a queer relationship we had; I had really wanted her to leave that godforsaken street and move over to ‘a more decent’ residence – my apartment.

It was quite obvious to both of us why I wanted to do that. I was stricken with envy laced with white hot anger anytime I was alone at work or home, thinking about how some other person was sampling her ‘goods’, revelling in the beauty and wonders of her body, moaning and groaning in the throes of ecstasy.

And Lucille, the she-devil! She really knew what she did to me. No, point of correction – she loved what she did to me.

The teasing, the hinting at a ‘promiscuous’ encounter and the assurance of her belonging to me alone – accompanied by the sly, sultry smile that left me guessing. I was angry, yet happy, yet pumped for more.

Yes, if there was really an art of seduction, then Lucille would be the Da Vinci or Michelangelo. And then it got better when she finally let me in on her tastes. Her carnal tastes which more not very much unlike…

I digress. I’ve become so excited, I’m getting ahead of myself.

I arrived at her place today, and I was greeted with a familiar sight.

All the apartments in the avenue were occupied by various ‘call girls’ seeking to give interested customers a good time. For better advertising – you couldn’t just put a porn commercial on TV – they all had huge see-through glass windows. Girls trying to entice customers would pose in various degrees of nudity and do all sorts of things. It was really all in the presentation, and for some reason, it made their work a lot more respectable.

Many of the men who came here were regulars, so they’d have seen most of it. To be creative enough to bring something new each day to make the b*st*rds keep coming back with their fat wallets.

A salute to the diligent ‘staff’ of Avenue Amor. By now, you should n=know me well enough to know what I’m going to say now. Yes, I digress!

As I was saying, I looked at Lucille’s window and the mouth-watering sight aggravated my desire to have her.

Simply wrapped in a huge robe and wearing three-inch heels, she was the most clothed of all the girls. Yet, the robe rode every hill and every valley, every rise and every fall, all the contours, all the ridges, accentuating her body and leaving so much to the imagination that people would almost lose their minds trying to know what was under it all.

Damn it, I knew and yet I was still as curious as each one of those hopeless men each time I came here.

And then I just walked in like I owned the place.

Which I did, since I owned the owner.

She had moved to the dining by the time I got there, her hands already in the oven, drawing out a cake from the oven. She bent down and grabbed a tube, applying concentric towers of whipped cream while she arched her back, her derrière shooting out to my approval.

I walked over, held her down by placing my right hand on her waist and spanked her, the thundering sound reverberating in my ears. I could feel her butt cheeks getting warmer… a tad moister too. She moaned lightly and turned to lock our lips in a fierce kiss.

She was as eager as was I, something I reminisced on while I sucked on her lower lip. It seemed we had gotten a good catch today. Something that made the stirring in my loins graduate into an enraged member.

“He cannot wait?” she asked, stroking me lazily.

“No,” I said, turning her around and arching her back. She nearly crashed into her cake, but she shifted it aside quite absentmindedly. “We’ll eat that when we’re…”

I was inside her, effectively cutting her off before she could finish her statement.

When we were done, I paused to catch my breath before nodding as we dressed up before makin our way down into the soundproof basement.

It was the room where our fantasies came to life, and we enjoyed the most part of our relationship, fulfilling our carnal desires every damn day. The ropes, harnesses and stakes were all there. And then in the centre, a young man tied to an X-shaped crucifix, his naked back and buttock open for me to see.

I turned towards her with a smile as we locked lips once again.

“Who the hell are you freaks? Please-please let me out. I’ll never…”

We ignored him as was our habit. “What are the tools we’re using toady?”

“The barbed-wire whip. The scissors and the shears,” she said, a wicked glint in her eyes as she mentioned the words.

“Hmmm. There’ll be a lot of blood then, since we’re scourging and muting,” I said, grabbing the whip from the table. Its blades were caked with blood, testament to its frequent, gory use. “I assume you’ll be doing the castrating, or is that not what the shears are for?” I said, proceeding slowly towards the shouting man’s back.

“You know it’s what I love to do,” she said, picking the razors.

As the man rambled on, I swung the whip back and wiped it diagonally across his back. The screams, oh permit me to digress once again, but the screams caused vibrations that ministered to both Lucille and me. From the look on her face, I could see she was just recovering from an orgasmic encounter.

As the man shouted, I thought “This is just the beginning”. The whip deeply embedded in his skin, I slowly dragged it out, lacerating his flesh as he screamed even more, sending me into overdrive.

“Calm down, mate, you came here for my girl. Surely you’d be able to stand much more than this if you were interested.”

“I…” he said, half crying, half shouting. “I don’t want her anymore. I don’t! Just leave me, I won’t report. I won’t tell…”

“Of course you won’t,” Lucille said, forcing his mouth open with a speculum. “You’re making so much noise, it’s irritating. Aside dead men – a brotherhood you’ll soon be joining - do you know who else tell no tales?”

The stark look of fear and realisation hit him.

“Dumb men,” she said, forcing the scissors and knives into his mouth and cutting up his tongue.

Need I mention, the screams didn’t stop, so we were able to enjoy the rest of our activity without his being able to utter much.

@Ozzyy @Hanzell @Leo_kitti @gertu13.

I find it hard to write smut without including a bit of crazy, psychotic horror