He hadn't needed to tell her his name and normally he wouldn't do so. She should know it. After all, these women found him on his webpage where he wrote these sort of details. She wouldn't be any different. It wasn't unusual either that he only met up with the male part in the relationship when they agreed on the final details. It happened 8 out of 10 times. Most of these women wanted the ultimate experience of their fantasy, meaning they wouldn't wanna meet him first. However, Halina seemed different. He couldn't put his finger on it but something seemed different. Maybe even a bit off. Probably nerves. Maybe her first time into this sort of game even though most of these women had already played with their boyfriends and husbands. So telling her his name was just a simple way of him trying to put her mind at ease. He was the man from the webpage, he was Dean Ambrose.
He put the blade of the knife between his teeth so both his hands were free. He grabbed her jeans and started sliding them down her legs. This was the part that always set the women apart. The annoying ones would have a hard time not smiling and would even lift themselves up to help him, in general not playing their part at all. He never called them out on it. It was their money, it was their fantasy. Most of the women would play the part though and they would cry, beg, scream or even try to fight him.
Halina did neither. She just froze. He had never experienced that before. The jeans made a loud sound when he dropped them on the floor and for a few seconds he just stared at her. She was still frozen. He held a sigh within. Maybe this game was too much for her but there was a way out if she wanted it to stop. She did know the safe word. It was written on his webpage and her boyfriend John had said it out loud to prove he had read it. All she had to do was say it if she wanted out.
With the knife still between his teeth, he reached up and removed the blindfold. Maybe she would relax a bit if she saw with her own eyes that it really was him. Not that he wanted her to relax. He wanted her to fight or at least use her words or show some tears. Anything but being frozen.
She stared him directly in the eyes before dropping the gaze to the knife. John had specifically asked for that part and as always, he would deliver whatever the client wanted. He reached behind to take his wallet from the back pocket, opened it and took out a condom. He watched her carefully as her eyes followed his movement as he dumped the wallet down on the table and put the condom down as well.
That's when the tears started to flow. Finally, a reaction, something he could use. She was there, she was present, she knew what was happening, although he would have liked some words or at least some change in her breathing along with those tears.
He took the knife in his hand again, ran the tip of it down her stomach, careful not to actually cut her, and stopped when he reached her panties. He hooked one finger inside them, lifted up the fabric as he had every intention to cut them off her.
She turned her head to the side, stared into the boring brown colour of the back of the couch, completely frozen again. So maybe it was the knife that scared her. Maybe she had thought she would like it a bit more hardcore than she actually could handle.
"I don't think I need this," he said and put the knife on the table.
She didn't even turn her head to see what he was talking about. She just kept staring at that ugly brown colour right in front of her. He hooked her panties again but something stopped him from actually pulling them off her. He always followed his guts and something felt very wrong to him.
"Hey," he said as he grabbed her chin.
He forced her head back up to look at him, breaking character in the process.
"Use the safe word if you want out," he said.
"What safe word?" She asked in a whisper.
"Did you forget it?" He asked as he put on a little smile.
She kept looking at him with fear printed all over her face and he could see it right away. She didn't forget it. She didn't know it to begin with.
"John said it when I met up with him. He said..." He started.
"How do you know John?" She asked.
And that's when realisation hit him.
"Fuck!" He bawled.
He grabbed the knife again and she instantly froze completely by the sight of it. He moved it up and cut the rope holding her down before yanking her up to sit. He grabbed her bound wrists and moved the knife careful in between them to cut the remaining rope of her.
"Shit!" He hissed and ran his free hand through his hair. "Shit, fuck, ass!"
She sat completely still, too afraid to say or do anything. This strange man next to her was having some sort of fit and she was scared to be on the receiving end of it. He finally looked at her again and saw the fear still painted all over her face. He reached down, grabbed her jeans and placed them in her hands.
"Get dressed," he said as he stood up.
He started pacing the floor while she quickly got back into her jeans.
"Your boyfriend's a real ass," he finally stop pacing and looked at her. "He set you up. Damn, he set us both up. I can go to jail for this shit and I probably should. Do you wanna call the police?"
"I just wanna go home," she said.
The tears were slowly starting to run down her cheeks again.
"Shit, Halina, I can't tell you how sorry I am. I'll take you home," he said.
"No, I can walk," she quickly snapped.
She wanted nothing more than to get far away from this man and it couldn't happen fast enough.
"I need to show you something first," he said. "Please, sit down. It'll take two minutes and I promise you you'll be free to go afterwards."
She sat down on the edge of the couch, uncomfortable and really not wanting to stay in that house for another second. He grabbed a laptop from a shelf near by and sat down next to her while opening a webpage.
"I need you to understand that this is what I do. It's a job. I never intended on hurting you for real. It's usually you women who picks me out. I've never had someone do this," he said with a sigh.