The two guys made a big thing of you go first, no after you, I insist. José took a step back with a little bow and a flourish, so Juan stepped up to the table. He took a moment deciding before selecting the filleting knife.
'Be careful, that thing's sharp,' José called out from behind him.
Juan grinned and leaned in towards her. She tried to back away but her bottom half was rock solid on the stool and any movement just increased the ache in her arms. Over by the wall José told hold of the rope and pulled it taut. Ellie gasped into the rag as her whole body was stretched tighter than a nun's chuff. Juan's grin grew bigger still as he looked down at her breasts straining against her blouse, the buttons stretched almost to breaking point. One by one he hooked the tip of the knife under the buttons and cut them off with a quick flick of the wrist until they were all gone, her blouse hanging open. He took hold of the material and pulled it up around the back of her head and cut it away until all that was left was the collar and a few tattered shreds around her outstretched shoulders.
He stood back and admired his work—and her breasts in her sheer brassiere of course. 'Mmm, mmm. Nice. What a shame,' he said, shaking his head. He walked behind her and ran the tip of the knife slowly down her bare back and all the way up again, up her neck, coming to rest behind her ear. She saw Chico give a small nod and tried to pull her head away but Juan took a great handful of hair at the nape of her neck and pulled it upwards, forcing her head forward, exposing the back of her neck.
'Just a trim, madam?' Juan said and sliced off the clump of hair in his hand before she knew what had happened. Everybody laughed as he put the knife back on the table and dropped the hair into her lap.
She knew it was all just to humiliate her and felt a strange thump of hope in her chest—maybe that's all it would be. They weren't really going to cut her after all, they just wanted to scare and humiliate her.
Okay, job done, guys, you can stop now . . .
Then it was José's turn. She didn't need to see the bulge in the front of his pants to know he'd have liked to carry on what he'd tried to start in her hotel room. He circled round behind her and she knew what was coming before she felt it, the repugnant hardness as he rubbed himself against her back like a badly trained dog dry-humping the pastor's leg. He bent over and reached round her and cupped her breasts in his filthy hands. She felt sick and helpless, violated, and tried to cling to the hope she'd felt a moment before: it's all about the humiliation; all about them and their sorry, sad, misogynistic lives; you're just a piece of meat and a piece of meat doesn't care.
She could think it all she wanted, but she couldn't stop the shudder of disgust as he slid his hand inside her brassiere, gripped her nipple in his fingers and squeezed it hard. Really, really hard. She bit down on her tongue, determined he wouldn't get the satisfaction of a cry or a gasp.
He put his mouth to her ear. 'I'm gonna hang this on a chain 'round my neck,' he whispered, the loathsome piece of misogyny slipping from his mouth as if there was nothing more natural, and gave her a last, spiteful tweak.
He stood up and hooked a couple of fingers under her brassiere between the cups and yanked hard. The clasp at the back came apart and her breasts fell free, although they couldn't fall very far, of course, since her arms were stretched so tight over her head. He picked up the secateurs and opened and closed them a couple of times like an alligator's jaws. Ellie's shook her head violently, her eyes bulging in their sockets. She tried to scream but all you could hear was a desperate, muffled noise in the back of the throat. José gripped the brassiere and pulled it so that the shoulder straps pulled tight around the back of her arms, pulling her forward on the stool, arching her back like she was offering herself to him. He snipped first one, then the other cleanly in two, the straps putting up as much resistance as a blade of grass. Her body snapped backwards again and he dropped the secateurs back on the table and walked away.
'Do you like gardening?' Chico said to her, picking up the secateurs. He opened and closed them a few times like José had done.
Ellie just shook her head. She didn't even try to say anything. What could she say, even if she didn't have a filthy rag stuffed in her mouth? And all she could think was: maybe it isn't just about the humiliation.
'These are made in Switzerland, you know,' he said waving the secateurs in front of her face. 'The best you can get. Used by professionals the world over because of their strength and durability. See the shape of the handle'—he held them out for her to see—'that spreads the force required evenly over all the fingers. Not that we're going to be cutting anything that needs much strength today.'
There was an appreciative murmur from behind him. The main event was getting under way.
He opened and closed them a few more times. 'And see that'—he pointed to a groove on the blade—'that's a sap groove so that the sap, or any other fluid for that matter, flows away and doesn't gum up the blades. So you're ready for another quick cut.'
He turned to the guys behind him. 'Anyone got a pencil?'
José fished in his pocket and handed him one. She couldn't start to imagine why he was carrying a pencil around in his pocket.
'Watch this,' Chico said to Ellie. He put the end of the pencil in the jaws of the secateurs and snipped. The blade sliced through the wood like it wasn't even there, the end of the pencil dropping to the floor. He made a couple more quick cuts, the blade looking like it was eating up the pencil, little round slices dropping to the floor one after the other.
'Impressive, eh?' He smiled at her and she felt the whole of the bottom half of her body go weak. She had a horrible tingling sensation in her bladder and knew she was about to wet herself.
'What else have we got that's about the diameter of a pencil?' he said, staring at her exposed breasts. 'But softer.'
'Hey, Chico,' Juan called from the other side of the room.
Chico pulled his eyes away from Ellie's breasts and turned to face him. He raised an eyebrow as if to say: this better be important.
'You're never going to get a good grip on those nipples. They're way too soft.'
Chico made a show of taking a closer look. 'Damn. You're right. What are we going to do? You need to get a good firm grip if you want a nice, clean cut. We don't want any ragged edges.'
'Leave it with me,' Juan said with a grin.
He disappeared out of the room for a minute. Ellie heard a faucet running and then he came back in with a paper cup full of water.
'Let's see if this helps,' he said and threw the cold water over her breasts.
Ellie tensed as the water hit her and knew without looking down that it had the desired effect. Please let it be about the humiliation.
'There you go,' Juan said. 'Always works.'
'Much better,' Chico said. 'Much easier to get hold of.'
'Just one more thing,' Juan said, as Chico was about to take hold of her nipple. 'Is it okay if I video this on my phone?'
Chico nodded and slapped the secateurs against his palm impatiently while Juan got his phone out and tried to find the video icon.
'Is it going to spurt or just sort of dribble out?' Juan said, once he'd located it. 'The blood I mean.'
'Hell, I don't know,' Chico said.
'Spurt, I think,' José called from behind them, although they both knew he was guessing.
'It's just I don't want to get too close if it's going to spurt,' Juan said. 'I don't want to get blood on the phone. I only got it yesterday.'
'You should have got some of those peel-off screen protector things,' José said.
Chico had had enough of this crap. Juan would ask to do a sound test in a minute if he didn't get on with it. He turned back to Ellie and gripped her nipple hard between the fingers of his left hand and pulled. She felt her bladder release its load and felt a warm, almost comforting, wetness soak into her jeans, a dark stain spreading out from her crotch. Her whole body started to shake. He carefully placed the open jaws of the secateurs around her nipple and closed them ever so slightly until they just held it but without breaking the skin. Ellie stopped making the frantic noise in the back of her throat and went rigid, not daring to move or even make a sound. Chico pulled her nipple harder still making her gasp and adjusted the position of the jaws as if he was trying to make up his mind about what was the perfect spot for the cut.