She beckoned him onto the bed and he quickly placed her clothes over the chair and scrambled up.
“On your stomach, spread-eagle”, she commanded.
He stretched out on the bed face down and waited. She moved around the bed, gently putting the heavy leather cuffs on him and attaching them to the bedposts, hardly touching him, silent, the only sounds his breathing and the gentle clink of the buckles and clips as she attached them. Then she stepped back from him. He lifted his head to look around at her and she shook her head at him without a word. He obediently closed his eyes and lowered his head to the bed and he waited. She watched him, he was almost imperceptibly trembling now and small beads of perspiration formed on his back and neck. She knew the silence was scaring him a little and that his mind was racing, trying to anticipate what was coming, worried that she was just going to make him lie there.
She let him wait, eyeing off her toys, trying to decide what she was in the mood for. She moved around the room silently, restless.
Finally she took off her g-string, bunched it up into a ball and approached the bed, still scanning the room for inspiration. She almost absentmindedly brought her panties to his lips, his mouth opening automatically so that she could shove them in, pushing them with her fingers until she knew they were sitting in the back of his mouth. She traced his lips with her fingers, feeling their softness while she dismissed each of her whips and paddles as not fitting her mood.
Finally she got onto the bed and lay down full length against his back and he sighed as the weight of her anchored him. She wriggled against him, making contact with his skin from her feet to her pussy, to her breasts, to her cheek against the back of his head. She lay there still, feeling his heartbeat against her chest, breathing into his ear.
She lifted herself up and licked his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck, kissing the soft skin, he shifted to give her better access to the sensitive skin there. She increased the pressure of her lips, the intensity of her kisses. He shuddered as she sucked and nipped at his neck and she felt him start to writhe under her. She felt the pull in her stomach as she started to draw his skin into her mouth and clamp down on it, hunger rising.
She pulled, back, straddled his arse, pushing her wet pussy against him as she bared her teeth. And then she began to bite him.
What started as nips and nibbles at his neck grew quickly, turning into vicious animal bites all over his exposed flesh. She pulled large chunks of skin on his shoulder, his back, into her mouth and closed her teeth on it as if she would tear it from his bones. She felt him trying to pull away from her, but there was nowhere to go, and his wriggling and his soft grunts spurred her on.
Her mouth moved all over his back, every part of him, leaving large red marks that would surely bruise. She travelled down to his arse, biting his cheeks, she felt like she was grinding his skin between her jaws. She felt his hips rocking against the bed as her mouth moved over his arse. She heard herself making a low growling sound as her mouth found unmarked flesh. She wanted to swallow chunks of his flesh, to own it, to eat it. He had started to whimper softly as she moved across his body, and the whimpering was soon accentuated by grunts of pain as she relentlessly continued. She wanted to mark him all over, and she continued for a long time until barely a spot on his back or arse was untouched.
She knelt back on the bed beside him when she was sated and studied her handiwork, his back and arse a series of red, angry looking teeth marks. She touched them, feeling the indentations, stroking the redness, gently feeling the heat of the angry skin, and he moaned softly as her fingertips travelled over the damaged skin.
Her hand skipped down to his bitten arse, and her fingers trailed down to his balls. She stroked him gently. “Lift up for me boy”, she said, and he obediently lifted his arse up to her as much as his bonds would allow. She touched his cock; it was rock hard. She ran her fingers along the hardness to the tip and felt him move his hips to try and increase the contact with her hand.
She smiled, ‘Let’s turn you over, I’m not done yet’.
.
6 comments
Biting. Oh, god. <>Biting.<> How I love it.>>That was a terrific story. Jesus, to be that guy…
I almost daren’t ask: what comes next? More precisely, what gets bitten next? >>The feel of those bites – like the feel of lashes on the back – would blend so well with the feel in my cock as I turn over and look up at her. Even more so when I orgasm inside her.>>Who was it who described orgasm as a “painful joy”? >xxxx
thumper: “Biting. Oh, god. <>Biting<>.” >>I love this comment little rabbit! Comments that take the lord’s (and jesus’) name in vain are always winners with me. I’m so glad you enjoyed it.>>Ferns
anonymous xxxx: Lovely to hear from you again. >>You can ask, of course, but if I tell you everything, what would be left?>>“…when I orgasm inside her.”… you are just living in a dream world aren’t you xxxx? I think it’s sweet.>>Ferns
Mistress and i had a similar encounter a few nights ago. It started with me begging Her to bite me and ended with me curled in her arms. Some of the most meaningful mementos Mistress gives me are the injuries i feel the next day when we're not playing but that tickle memories of a kinky encounter while i'm in the vanilla world. This was a very comforting story to read after reading “No More..”
Secretive Slave: “Mistress and i had a similar encounter a few nights ago. It started with me begging Her to bite me and ended with me curled in her arms.”
Oh, that's lovely. I just adore biting because it's so so incredibly intimate. Yummy.
Ferns