Chapter 7 by Zeebop

More comfortable or less comfortable?

Less Comfortable

Lois Lane twisted her body, trying to keep Valeria in sight as she explored the handcuffs. The Latina stepped behind a screen, cutting her off from view, so Lois gave her attention to her predicament.

Fortunately, these seemed to be the typical adult-play models...not designed to close so tight as to cut off circulation, and Valeria cuffed them with her palms facing each other. That meant that Lois could access the lock. All she needed was one of the lockpicks she kept in an inner pocket, and she could be out of this in seconds.

Then she heard the creak of leather being cinched tight. The heavy clop of steel heels on the hard floor...and turned her head back around.

The corset exaggerated Valeria's already hourglass curves, cinching her waist so small that it pained Lois to look at it. The voluptuous tits jutted out like a shelf, jiggling in place, and her flaring hips and ass were shown off to good effect—all the moreso because of the three-inch spiked heels that made the olive-skinned woman loom taller than before. Her shaved pussy was bare, and an elbow-length black glove covered her left.

Yet what made Lois freeze was the gauntlet that now covered Valeria's right hand. Well-oiled blades moved against one another with incredible precision. Lois recalled how much the movie Edward Scissorhands had scared her when she first saw it, and Freddy Krueger on Nightmare on Elm Street—the image of those blades-for fingers struck some primitive cord in the reporter's brain. That they were no longer involved in fun and games.

"Sex and horror, chica," Valeria said. "Both are so titillating, no? I want to explore this feeling with you. The excitement, the exhilaration. I want to taste your fear."

The metal finger-blades down Lois Lane's lower back, just over her ass. The reporter's heart hammered in her chest as she felt the cold metal touch her spine...and then a snip. A swipe. With one effortless sweep of that razor-edged glove, the reporter's jacket, shirt, and bra each fell into two pieces, cut right along the middle of the back.

"Now...don't move a muscle," Valeria said.