Friday, January 11, 2013

Scene: Mouse II

She swam slowly up out of sleep. The first thing she was aware of was warmth and softness. Then she realized she was nude, bound, and blindfolded. She gasped and pulled on the restraints that held her wrists fast. The sound of his amused chuckle made her still. Despite her predicament, she couldn't help the annoyed expression that crossed her face. “This is not funny,” she grumbled, pulling harder against the cord bound about her left wrist.

“Hilarious,” he retorted. She stopped fighting and fell back against the bed. She heard the rustle of his clothes as he walked closer from her right. She turned her head towards him, listening intently. He lightly brushed the trailing end of the scarf about her eyes away from her shoulder. As the fabric whispered over her skin, she shivered.

“Now, what shall I do with you?” he said. Tension shot through her like electricity and he chuckled again. His hand moved away from her, though he seemed to to remain close, a looming presence that just had the brooding potential of a thunderhead. He stepped back and she heard a soft clicking noise. She frowned and tipped her head slightly towards the sound, trying to puzzle out what he was doing.

The sound of the fabric of his clothes adjusting themselves as he moved told her that he was walking around to the other side of the bed. He stood near her right foot and gripped the corner of the blanket hanging off the edge of the bed. In a single, snapping gesture, he pulled the blanket off of her and gathered it into a ball. As he tossed it aside, he could hear her take a surprised breath in.

Compared to the warmth of the blanket, the room was chilly. He watched as a wash of goosebumps marched over her flesh. As he walked around the foot of the bed again, he watched her turn her head slightly. He picked up the candle he had lit and looked at the hot pool of wax forming about the wick. He took the candle up in his right hand as he took a piece of ice from the bowl sitting beside it.

He brought the candle over to her. The scent of the hot wax took her by surprise even as the heat from the flame made her eyes go wide as he brought it close to her bound arm. “Don't move, little mouse,” he said, holding the candle inches from her as he moved it down her arm, along her ribs and to her side. She gave a shiver and he pressed the ice against the spot closest to the candle.

In her shock, she gave a cry. She tried to pull away, fooled for a moment into thinking that she was burned. When she registered that his hand covered that which was pressed against her side, she began to relax. As that first sign of the tension going out of her body passed through her, he tipped the candle over her stomach. The burning of the liquid wax hitting her stomach made her shriek.

He said nothing, continuing to drip wax onto her drop by agonizing drop. She arched and writhed, her control shattered by her surprise. When she realized that she couldn't escape, she gave a whimper. She tossed her head as a renewed burst of effort had her straining hard against her bonds. What little slack was in the rope only proved enough to allow her to tension herself enough to arch against the bed. She gave a soft sob of frustration as he stopped dripping wax onto her.

He put the candle on the nightstand and stood. Shivering and apprehensive of more hot wax, she gave a loud gasp of shock when he put a piece of ice against the arch of her foot. He moved it slowly up the inside of her ankle and along her leg up to her sex. Again, she arched with a cry of protest, this time as he slipped the bit of ice deep inside her.

Holding it in with his fingers, he watched as she mewled in discomfort. He knew that she wasn't ready for such an intimate touch, but he also knew that she craved the pain more. Slowly, he rubbed deep within her, smiling as she wept even as her body yielded to his touch. Soon, she was gasping and shuddering, tossing her head as her first orgasm rolled through her. With a bit more effort, he brought her to the edge of her second.

He stepped away from the bed as she whimpered and squirmed. Soon, he was close by her again. In a voice that was almost icily implacable, he said, “Not one twitch, mouse.” She gave a sob of frustration. When she felt the cold kiss of steel against her skin, she gasped. A tiny shudder shook her from head to toes and he smiled. He dragged the butter knife's blunt edge over her stomach, catching the wax as it passed.

Unaware of the nature of the blade against her skin, she shivered. Despite his admonishment not to move, her head lolled to the side. He picked up the knife and put it against her throat. She went rigid, her eyes opening wide beneath the blindfold. “What did I tell you?” he said in that wintry tone. She made an inarticulate noise that was the cross between a sigh and a moan. He pressed it harder against her skin. “Would you prefer the edge?” he said.

She gave a strangled sound as she shuddered hard. He made a slight sawing motion with the knife. She said in a choked tone, “Oh god.” He smiled at how her entire body seemed to vibrate with her effort to remain still. He repeated himself and she gave a small sob of arousal laced fear. “I.. I don't remember,” she wailed, “oh! I'm sorry. I.. I..” He repeated his teasing threat of cutting with his blunt weapon. Words gave way to a throaty groan.

He said quietly, “You don't remember or were you not listening?” She whimpered as he moved the butter knife so that the flat was against her chin. Lightly, he moved it from her neck up to the tip of her chin and back down. “I don't think you were listening to me, little mouse,” he said, his voice rich with amusement and dire implications.

“I was listening,” she said anxiously, “I was. I just don't remember.. I can't think.” He made a thoughtful sound. “I'm sorry,” she continued, “I...” His mouth covered hers as she went to babble her contrition. Startled by his kiss, she tensed. He broke the kiss and moved his head lower. As he caught her nipple between his teeth, she shuddered and mewled. He dropped the butter knife to the floor before gripping her other breast hard.

He rolled her nipple between his teeth as she wailed softly in pain. His nails bit into her skin and her hands balled up into fists. His tongue moved, warm and soft against her sore nipple. He grinned as she tossed her head and threw it back against the bed. He moved his hand down from her breast to her stomach. With a feather light touch, he caressed her skin.

“Oh...” she moaned, unable to help the shivers that went through her. He began to leave small bites over her breast as he slid his hand lower. As his fingertips brushed through her pubic hair, her eyes rolled and she shuddered. Lightly, he teased her sex. Wracked between the pain of his teeth and the pleasure of his touch, she orgasmed hard.

He stood up and stepped away. His clothes rustled again and then there was the soft sound of fabric hitting the floor. As he made his way between her legs, she made inviting noises. He knelt between her thighs and dipped his head. He brought his face close to her pussy and took in a deep breath. The rich scent of her arousal just made him ache even more with need.

With out any preamble, he thrust his turgid cock into her. Her surprised cry dropped down into a sensual moan as he thrust into her industriously. As her body convulsed around him, he made an almost pained sound. He rocked harder against her, forcing little gasping cries out of her. With each thrust, she shuddered and strained against her bonds.

Rendered all but mindless by what felt to be a continuous orgasm from the moment he thrust into her, she made incoherent animal sounds of pleasure. He stopped for a moment and she gave a long, keening cry of what sounded to be pain. “Please,” she begged, “Oh god, please.” He struggled with the urge to keep thrusting and the white hot pleasure of listening to her frantic plea. Inspiration struck him and he grinned.

“Beg for it,” he growled, unable to keep the husky notes of hunger or pleasure out of his voice. At the sound of his voice, she shuddered from head to toe. “Beg and I'll give it to you,” he said. She wailed and he began to pull out.

“Oh, no,” she gasped, “No, don't stop. Please, don't stop.” He grinned, moving slowly deeper into her again. He gripped her hips hard as she babbled an incoherent plea for more. As she made her pained, desperate pleas for more, he rewarded her with a hard thrust. She threw her head back and arched her back with a wordless shriek. He dug his nails into her ass and she made a throaty groan, hardly able to think of the words he wanted to hear.

When nothing more happened, she said in a pained voice, “Please. Oh please, more.” He pulled out and thrust into her again. Somewhere in her lust fevered mind, she made the connection between her begging and his fucking. Soon, she was writhing beneath him, breathlessly whimpering for more. Enjoying how she made pained noises of pleasure with each slow movement, he fucked her as slowly as he could manage.

With each passing moment, she became more frantic with her babbling. Soon, she was weeping and wailing, struggling against her bonds and nearly shrieking with need as he brought her to the edge of her hardest orgasm yet. Unable to resist the temptation any longer, he began to ram into her with all his strength. She screamed wordlessly as her orgasm broke over her like a wave.

Her continuous shriek of pained pleasure left his ears ringing but he didn't care. Riding her with all the fury of his own need, he forced her through her pleasure with his almost savage thrusting. As his orgasm built, he pulled her hips up hard to meet his. The slap of their flesh mingled with her cries to push him over the edge. He thrust deep into her and closed his eyes against the almost painful pleasure of his orgasm.

He smiled at how she collapsed bonelessly against the bed when he pulled out. He bent his head and placed a kiss on her chest, feeling the wild pulse of her heartbeat beneath his lips as she fell into sleep.

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