For The Bound

I can see your eyes flash as I enter the room. You look exquisite, as always. The sight of your naked body sends a thrill through me, amplified by the sensitive position in which I find you.

Your hands are shackled together, and chained to the hook above you, straining your arms. You are seated, precariously balanced on the edge of a high stool, your toes barely touching the ground. The delicate rise and fall of your breasts, the subtle straining of your arms in bondage, the slight twisting of your body as you struggle for balance. . . all of these things make my face flush with heat, and my cock harden.

I remove my robe, and let it fall to the floor. I wear nothing underneath—no barriers to interfere with our rituals. Slowly, I walk towards you; you watch me the whole way. You almost smile at my approach; you’ve always loved these tests.

Reaching you, I lean in, and gently kiss your lips and eyes. Our tongues play together as I stretch out my hand to touch you. You shiver slightly as I run my fingertips along your right breast, and gasp as I stroke your nipple. Your gasp turns into a moan as I pinch your nipple between my finger and thumb. I roll it slightly, my tongue still dancing against yours, and lower my other hand to your cunt. I slip a finger inside you—you are dripping wet, and burning hot. The scent of your sex reaches me, and I tremble with lust. I draw out my finger, and suck your fluids off of it.

For the first time, I look into your eyes.

I’m waiting. You know the word.
Your gaze is defiant.
Your lips are silent.

Returning my hand to your thighs, I find your hardened clit. I grasp it, and pinch hard. I have the fleeting satisfaction of hearing you cry out in pleasure and pain, and feeling you writhe under my touch. For a brief moment, you almost lose your balance, but you recover yourself quickly.

I release your nipple from my grip, still applying pressure to your clit. I bow my head, and take your sore nipple into my mouth, gently sucking. I alternate the pressure on your clit and the suction of my mouth. After a few moments, I move to your other nipple, working it with my lips and tongue. I give equal attention to each of your luscious breasts, increasing the pressure on your clit. I can hear your breathing grow ragged and rushed. Quickly, I yield the pressure on your body. I dip two fingers into the folds of your cunt, feeling an impossible wetness under my hand, and wet your clit with your own juices. I let my fingers fly lightly over your clit, rubbing it, and watching you as you approach orgasm.

But I know your body as well as you do. As you near the edge of climax, I grip your legs with my hands, and hold them apart, spread wide. You rock your hips in vain, trying to find some chimerical friction, some sensation, anything that will take you over the edge. There is nothing there, though, except for your throbbing clit, and your hungry, flooded cunt, open to the world.

Gradually, you calm down. Your body is flushed and covered in a thin sheen of perspiration. I release your legs, knowing that you have passed the imminence of orgasm.

Again, I look into your eyes, and wait.
Again, you are defiant.
Again, you do not speak.

I kneel down, and pick up the razor sharp scalpel from the floor next to me. It is your toy of choice; you like the elegance of the handle, and the flexibility of the thin blade. Tonight, you will be the subject of your own tastes.

You hold very still as I straddle your hips. I know that the strained position of your arms must be making your task difficult, but you are it’s equal. Gently, slowly, with an almost imperceptible pressure, I touch the tip of the knife to your left breast. With caution and care, I push down, and am rewarded by a welling of blood under the point of the blade. Slowly, with indescribable pleasure, I draw the tip down the curve of your breast, leaving a long line of red along your immaculate skin.

The sight of the blood makes my vision cloudy with desire. I force myself to remove the knife, and I bend my head to your breast. I run the tip of my tongue up that exquisite line of red, tasting you. Wetting my lips with your blood, I kiss you, letting you share with me.

After gathering myself, I turn to your other breast. Again, I ply the knife, and draw forth a delicious streak of red. You have remained silent and still during my tender caresses, though your glittering eyes betray pain and ecstasy. The look you give me makes me weak.

The blood has started to drip down your body. I watch the progress of a single drop as it gently rolls down your stomach, and snakes down to your thighs.

And still you are defiant.
And still you do not speak.
And now I am trembling.

I move from you, and kneel down between your legs.

I press the flat of the knife blade to the smooth, shaven skin above your cunt. The cold touch makes you start slightly. My own breathing is rough as I again press the point of the knife into your body, just breaking the skin. Again, blood drips from under the blade. This time, I make three short cuts, and watch as the three crimson lines of blood drip together into one thin trickle, slowly wending it’s way down to your sex.

I place the knife on the floor, and lift your legs so that they are on my shoulders. I watch the drip of blood run over the lips of your pussy, an intense red against your lovely pink. I am shaking with anticipation now, and I press my lips to your cunt. Your mingled blood and juices reach my tongue, and the taste sends shocks through my body, from my mouth to my hard, straining cock. Eagerly, I devour your sex, sucking and licking at your pussy and clit, overwhelmed by the taste and scent of you. The pleasure is too intense; tears fall from my eyes, mingling with your wetness. I lick and suck and drink from you, on and on, until you start to cry out in pleasure. Hearing your moans is enough to bring me to my senses, however briefly. With whatever will I have left, I tear myself from your cunt, and stagger to my feet, to look into your eyes one more time. I know that I must be a fearful sight—face red with your blood and wet with your juices, cheeks stained with tears, eyes half-crazed with lust.

And still you are defiant.
And still you do not speak.
But now, I am broken.

I finally yield. With a dry voice, I say the word that brings it all to an end. Hands shaking, I undo the manacles, and set you free. You throw your arms around my neck, kissing me hungrily. I pull away, and again drop to my knees. Once more, I push my face to your sex, licking the length of your soaking slit, sucking on your clit. This time, I have no intention of stopping, and I feel your hands in my hair, pushing me into you, urging me onwards. You are screaming now, crying out, gripping me with your thighs, until you finally convulse in orgasm, dripping a cascade of fluid into my waiting mouth.

Immediately, I stand, and move between your legs. With a hard thrust, I push my cock into you. You wrap your legs around my waist and your arms around my neck, as I take your full weight. I use my hands to support your back as we rapidly rock back and forth together, each motion pushing me deep into your pussy. You pull yourself up to me, your arms wrapped tight around me, so that your breasts are pressed against my chest. I can feel the wetness of your blood mingling with my sweat, our slippery bodies sliding against each other. You bite down on my shoulder, hard enough to draw forth my own blood. The pain is an exquisite release; with a scream, I snap my hips into you, ready to burst. As I approach my climax, you lean back slightly, and use one hand to rub your clit frantically. You orgasm just as I erupt into you, flooding your cunt with my fluids.

Slowly, you untwine your legs from my waist, and stand next to me. I am exhausted. Carefully, we sink to the floor, lying side by side, still holding each other. You smile at me, and kiss my face as I did yours.

We pass all tests. I am bound to you, forever.