9.28.2004
- I walk into the room, warm and barely dry, hair sopping wet, dripping down my back, cooling off my skin, a welcome change from the steamy shower. He is on the bed, eyes closed, waiting, drifting, waiting...
I climb up the bed, over him, letting my hair drip over on the sheets and his cool skin. He gasps as I tickle him all over with it. I gasp as he grabs me and rolls over onto me, pushing me down into the mass of pillows and blankets, kissing me gently, nibbling my lip, then nipping harder. His hands wander over my neck and shoulders, then lower, caressing the outsides of my breasts, down over my ribcage and belly, then back up to cup my breasts again, as his mouth moves lower, lower, licking along my collarbone, sucking hard, nipping, trying to break the skin, then kissing gently, kissing the pain away. I feel his warm breath on my nipple, first one, than the other, back and forth, never touching, just warm, hot, so hot. Then, fiery pain as his teeth capture one, hard, grinding sensitive flesh against hard, unyielding metal. I cry out, shocked.
His hand leaves my breast to cover my mouth, as his mouth stays firmly clamped on my nipple. I moan and writhe, body fighting, fighting, fighting to turn pain into pleasure. Suddenly the hand is gone, and his mouth replaces it, roughly demanding, hard kisses, teeth, tongue, demanding. The sudden lack of pain is worse than I can imagine. I whimper, wanting it back, needing it so badly. I can feel him reaching for something, but can't see what it is. Then, oh, blessed relief. The pain returns, twice as good, ten times as bad, relief. I feel the cold of the chain the connects the nipple clamps. As he moves slightly to clamp the other nipple, I scream, the intensity of pain in a second spot almost too much. Lost in the my world of pain/pleasure, I almost miss him saying "good girl, good girl, shhhh" as he strokes my belly, sides, thighs, breasts.
Slowly, I come down, body tingling, alive, almost vibrating, waiting for what will come next. I shake and gasp, world dark as he gently pulls a corner of the sheet over my eyes. He never bothers to blindfold me, knowing that I wouldn't dare move that sheet, no matter how much I need to know what's coming. I whimper, waiting, hearing him breath, feeling his weight hovering above me. I can tell he's watching me, almost touching me occasionally. I can feel his amusement as I flinch when I imagine I can hear him raising his hand. Suddenly he grabs my hand and pulls it to the top corner of the bed. No rope, nothing to hold it there, nothing but the knowledge that he wants it there. The other hand follows, pulled to the other corner. My legs are left free, he loves to see me squirm and writhe as I try to sense what is coming next. He strokes my face, slipping a finger into my mouth, letting me suck it as I shake, whimper, crave his attention. He must sense how much I need the pain, how my body is burning for more, more, release from this torture, my nipples shining bright behind my closed eyes, bright with the glorious pain/pleasure. I feel the cold of the second chain as he drags it down to my below my waist, I feel the third clamp, rubbing on my thigh. I open my legs and strain up, please, please, please, I need it. He rubs me, calming me "Soon, darling. Soon..."
I moan and beg, body shaking. Then, the first touch. With one finger, he touches my hot lips, sliding in between them, opening them up without touching anything inside. He blows on me, cooling me with a breath that seemed so hot before, now so cold. He traces my lips, my every fold with the clamp, warming it up before tenderly setting it on one lip. He leaves it there for a second, watching me shiver with the blessed pain, but it isn't enough, and he knows it. With a sharp tug to the chain, it comes off, leaving a sharp blossom that, for a moment, is enough. I sigh in relief, then beg for it again. Please. Please, I need it.
Again he touches me, soft gentle touches that do nothing to relieve me. Then, for a second, both hands are off of me. I hold my breath, knowing that it is coming.
Again, I scream as the harsh clamp finds my clit without warning. He slaps my thigh and demands silence, then sits back to watch me shake and moan, careful even in my ecstasy not to move my hands or dislodge the cover over my eyes. My hips move spasticly, thrusting against the air, making the clamp bounce up and down, intensifying the enormous pain blasting through me.
Finally, I am able to stop moving, and lay there gasping for breath, moaning, begging. I feel him sit up, then move off of the bed. Then I hear the door close. I can't hear his breath, I can't feel him. I cry out. I know better than to move from where he left me. How long would it be?